Dreamwaking: The Third Degree.

[Tolleson]

It is a dream.

Knowing this alone is frightening. But James, so tangibly beside her, is enough to slow the adrenaline, to pause, to look, to smell, to touch the reality of it. This is not her dream, it cannot be. James was so near and not even Zilliah could break the barrier put around her.

But it must be. The place is not a real place. It is her room in the Dagger lined with hundreds of volumes from floor to ceiling, it is the bed from the palace in Thessilane; it is a place where the corners recede forever into shadow and windows that each face a different scene, some day and some night, none geographically possible. Yet, all of these were hers – the way she remembered each in turn. It was the memory of summer at the beach as a child, it was the Dagger in winter when she’d first come, it was Myrken Town.

It was perfect and beautiful, perhaps even a gift. And though James slept, her slender hand would so gently brush his cheek. She didn’t dare wake him, but they had never shared a bed, not like this.

And then came the smoke. Trickling in at first, just a hint that gave her cause to sit up and find a source. The windows righted themselves and when she looked to the town she saw it ablaze.

“James,” her heart rose in her chest as she stood and fled to the window, “James the town!”

But when he didn’t respond she turned to find the bed was gone, books had begun collapsing in, the walls licked with flame were melting, oozing with blood colored honey. Books fallen open on the floor began to scream and sing, cacophonous as it all burned.

No, no. This had been a real, proper dream. One always woke from dreams.

Her palms planted firmly over her ears, Genny ran across the room and headfirst through the glass into a wintery Myrken night. With a hard landing, glass in her hand, blood everywhere, and realizing quickly she had caught on fire Genny frantically rolled in the snow. But it didn’t burn. It was her hair; flickering and flowing like flames, illuminating her path. Where? Anywhere.

The trees here moaned in pain, the snow was like razors, and a wolf lurked. It took everything in her, within this familiar nightmare, to put one foot in front of the other. And still she wept.

And when, if ever she woke, at whatever late hour; tears and blood streaming from her face and her ears red from pressure, she would go straight to James. There was nothing more urgent, no excuse for another night alone.

[Caile]

Kyme..

She awoke. Or rather, she thought she awoke. It was one of those wakenings that happens in dreams where a part of you knows you are still dreaming but the rest of you isn't quite so sure. She awoke to the smell of olives on the night breeze, the sweet sound of the surf and the luxurious feel of silk sheets against soft skin.

And then she awoke and opened her eyes.

It was still night, she was in her tent with the glow of the lantern dancing over the canvas and the answering flickering light from the fires outside. This was right, she wasn't home she was in..what was this place called? Myrken, that was it. The fire outside grew brighter and she could hear screams. What was this? Had they been attacked? Why had no one come to tell her? She stood, buckled on her weapons and pushed through the door into the burning night.

And then she awoke and opened her eyes.

This wasn't a dream, it was a nightmare. She was in the tavern, she'd been there that very night listening to the chatter and watching the chaos but she was alone here now, not even a staff member to see to her needs. The room echoed as she called out and the sky outside, glimpsed through the windows, danced with the same flames as she'd seen from her tent. But wait..there was someone just there, unconscious by the hearth. She frowned, approached cautiously. The flames jumped from the fireplace as if a living thing and she jumped backwards. They writhed over the form laid out as if on a pyre and cackled as the cloth that had covered the face was devoured. Hair caught, skin caught and the smell of roasted meat filled the air.

Kyme stifled a shriek, her hands covered her mouth as if to hold back the roiling of her stomach and she turned and ran, fleeing through the open door into the burning night with the image of her face being devoured by flames chasing after.

[Kylerryth]

OOC Note: As of this post, this thread is closed. No more characters will experience the dream, and if you replied, you're free to play as though the dream has occurred. Thanks to everyone who wrote a reply! See you when Chimera starts!