By: Spudd Posted on: November 23, 2007
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|| In the year 457, War intruded upon the Mesmerium. ||
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|| Attempting to awaken His Son, ||
|| who sleeps within the Eileithyian Tree, ||
|| the Lord of War gathered His armies ||
|| to pierce the Veil of Sleep, ||
|| and trespassed upon the Realm of Dreams. ||
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|| For this transgression, dreams were displaced. ||
|| From this violation, horrors were unleashed. ||
|| Amid the destruction, the Dreamscourge was born. ||
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|| You who seek sanctuary in halls, know this: ||
|| Dream's favour has been withdrawn. ||
|| Sleep's blessing no longer abides. ||
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|| Beware of that which lies beneath, ||
|| for the darkest nightmares have become reality. ||
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Flashes...
Flashes of friends. Flashes of the past. Flashes which reveal our very soul.
Such is the brief mortal brushing of the world of Sleep and Dreams - Realm of
Valnurana. A black swan on a lake will experience naught but a tiny portion of
the body's vast volume, and likewise, we only have the smallest taste of the
Dream Realm when we sleep. Yet even this mere glimmer can prove to be
treacherous, as was exhibited to many in 465 AF.
My mother's twinkling eyes watching over me with a smile. The Flame of
Yggdrasil beckoning me closer. Darting through the water as a silver fish.
Being caught on a fishing hook.
I open my eyes and stretch languidly. Juliet was right - sleeping recharged my
body as well as any elixir could. Smiling at the sight of the sunny forest
before me, I reach over and scratch behind the ears of
my faithful fox, sleeping soundly beside me.
"Yeah, you've got the right idea," I say, yawning, "Just a few more hours..."
Blinking blearily, I rest my head once more on the mossy forest floor, and
succumb to sleep's warm embrace.
Swords clash and screams echo across the lands, as I realise I am in the midst
of a great battle. I see one of my allies fall to the ground, a disgusting mass
of blood and broken bones. Shocked, I look up, and find
myself staring into the eyes of a dark knight. Cold and unfeeling, his eyes show no compassion for my slaughtered friend.
I jerk upright in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. Convincing my mind to accept
that is was just a dream, and that my friend was not just ruthlessly cut down, I
lift my head. In a gut wrenching sense of deja
vu, I once again find myself staring into the cold eyes of a dark knight. Adorned in sleek black plate armour, the eight foot behemoth slowly draws his blade as I crawl backwards. In one swift movement, he lunges his blade deep into my gut. Instead of searing pain, all I feel is a deep chilling which rapidly flows through my veins. In an instant I am wracked with shivers, and can only watch helplessly as the
knight prepares to finish me off. Closing my eyes and anticipating the cold blade once more, I instead hear the roar of thunder. I open my eyes in time to see the knight shimmer and fade, to reveal a green dragon brandishing an elemental staff behind it. With one quick nod, the dragon moves it's bulk off through the trees with surprising grace, while I am left speechless on the ground.
For what seemed like days, I sat shivering on the lush forest floor,
contemplating what had just happened. It was clear that our dreams were no
longer disconnected from reality. They were coming to life, though how or why I
could not say. My fox was also missing, no doubt scared off by the knight's
appearance. I could not muster the resolve to summon him back for fear of his
life. A breath of wind wound through the branches, and I realised I was still
shivering. One application of caloric salve later I stand up and set off for
Thera, in the hope that I would hear word of what was transpiring.
Surprisingly, my thirst for information was sated as I passed by Lake
Vundamere. Each voice echoing out from the Archway may have been jostling to be
heard, but their message was clear - I was not alone in what was occurring. The
common thread of fear troubled me further. It gripped the land with its icy
vice, and many were too scared to close their eyes for a moment, lest they be
set upon by these horrors. Thinking of only one place of safety, I pray to the
Pantheon for deliverance, and am instantly teleported to the Ring of Portals. I
let out a content sigh, thinking that the haven of Loom Island would surely be
immune to the plague which had befallen Sapience. Turning expectantly, I am
greeted not my the beaming faces of Guides, but by two vacant thrones. Scanning
the ground, I discover that Murgatroyd is also unaccounted for. My stomach
clenches, recognising the danger even if I have not. Forcing my body to move, I
shuffle over to the couch and sit with my arms wrapped around my legs, willing
myself to stay awake.
Time ticks away slowly, as my eyelids get steadily lower. My head feels like
lead on my shoulders and every time it nods down to my chest, it takes more and
more effort to raise it again. My chin touches my chest,
but as I lift my head up this time, I see a girl standing before me. She looks hungry.
"Hello little one, are you lost?" I ask kindly.
She says nothing, but stares at the food stand with hunger etched on her dirt
stained face. The anomaly doesn't register. She lifts a bony arm, feebly
pointing at the stand as she gazes intently at me.
"Oh you poor girl, when was the last time you ate?" I ask as I take her hand,
preparing to lead her to some nourishment.
The sovereign drops as my hand passes right through hers. As I turn, I see not
the Ring of Portals, but a bustling marketplace. I was dreaming!
The girl turns to face me, and sadly says, "Won't you buy me some food? I'm
ever so hungry..."
I step back, unable to pull my gaze from her eerie glowing eyes. With force
belying her frail form, she kicks me solidly in the shin. As pain burns like
fire up my leg, I am shocked into consciousness. Once again upon Loom Island, I
prepare to fight the little wench, but before I can act, she writhes in pain as
gangrenous growths bubble on her skin. Standing behind her was a young Siren
Occultist -my second saviour today. However, the tables were quickly turned in
the dream's favour. She brushes gently up against the Siren, who is compelled
into a deep sleep. As I stare, the air about the sleeping Occultist blurs
strangely out of focus, and a dove of purest white materialises. I gape in
horror as the dreams make short work of the young hero. I try to run, but I am
rooted to the spot in fear.
"Gods save us!" I yell, as I scurry to cower behind the couch.
Before I make it howver, a man clad in plain brown robes suddenly pops into
existence next to me. With a quick and complex movement of his hands, the two
dreams freeze in place, shimmer for a second, then
dissolve into nothingness, just as the knight did. I gape in awe at this figure, but he snaps his fingers and disappears once more. For a moment, I stare at the space which was just vacated, before I hear movement behind me. The young Siren had been returned to life, no doubt by the benevolent man who saved my life also. With one glance down at her restored body, the girl darted off to the North without a word. Heaving a sigh, I prepared to set off too, before a booming voice resounded from on high.
"No longer shall the lands of Minia, Lodi and Loom Island play host to the
dream horrors. The young adventurers of Achaea shall now sleep in safety."
echoed the nameless voice.
Relief flooded through me, as the words reached my ears. The chains of fear
were broken. As if on cue, there was a flash of light as the Romeo the Guide
appears.
He turns to me with a grin and says, "Greetings young one! How are you today?"
I blink at him for a moment, then smiling wryly, I respond with, "Great, but
right now, I need sleep..."
Answering my body's call, I drift once more into the loving embrace of my
dreams, resting well in the promise of the mysterious old man.