The night wakes

[Zaniel]

In the darkness of his bed chamber he woke, screaming. His olive skin was dark with the tar sweat of his people, an unusual thing for him to allow to occur. Still the nightmare had drawn him in so deep that he had been unable to urge himself to wakefulness. It had run its course without his leave, and kept him driven under its darkness for the entire night. The sun now creeping to the horizon outside his window, the world now barely awake around him.

His bed was empty. It had been for some weeks now, for reasons he was not sure he understood. Sitting up he threw his legs over the edge of the bed, a bed far too large for one thin young man, his shaking fingers drawing a small bone box from the drawer, as well as bottles of clear fluid and squares of silk. He set about his calming ritual. The strange taste of dark blood on his lips for no reason at all.

[Galacia Tarin]

At the very edge of the shadows of his room, she smiled darkly. There were many benefits to the Dreaming. One of which was the ability to draw the threads together, no matter how small, to bring the influence of one to another. Her dream came crashing into his, and neither was any the wiser. As she watched him shake and curse, watched the black sweat gather on his skin no matter how many times he wiped it clean, she smiled. More than smiled. As she vanished from the shadows she laughed. The sound ringing against the wooden walls like the echo of a dream.