When the storyteller came to, she did not immediately open her eyes, for everything around her felt unlike the comforts of her rented inn room. Her body felt light, and though the silence was a welcome change from the clamor of enthusiastic tavern patrons, this felt rather oppressive in comparison.
Iridescent light coated her eyelids and beckoned her to wake fully, and Rael obliged the call of the unknown, welcomed by the sight of a wave of colors and shimmering hues in the distance glittering in and out of existence like forgotten constellations. Voices then brushed gently against her ears, too quiet for her to make sense out of the words, but the intention behind them was made clear as a single thought formed inside her head: walk.
And walk she did, step after careful step taken with her arms tucked behind herself, marveling at details that were yet to fuzzy for her to understand.
Amidst a nebulous expanse of figures blending together and shifting in ways she couldn't quite discern from where she stood, there remained a creature unlike the rest. Colors pooled at his feet the same way they did hers, the only other person with a counterpart in Terrasphere's waking world now with his back turned to Rael, a dreamer yet unaware of the world created within his sleep.
This, too, was unfamiliar. Rael had heard of the gifts elves were possessed of - how they became visitors within the minds of others as soon as sleep took them, with little regard for familiarity and other such niceties. The etiquette to follow, the consequences of wandering the depths of one's dreams, to wake the dreamer up... Possibilities kind and unkind swirled within the confines of her mind, doing little to deter her from speaking the words out into the space that was never to be hers, thus inviting whatever outcome would be born of her meddling.
Blue eyes parted slowly, drifting left, and then right, and then left again. He fell asleep in the game again - evidenced by the way his eyes felt tired even while resting. Though maybe not. He looked up at the 'sky' of this dream. The violet, shifting to a flat, contrasting white and grey, all of the lines and depth stolen from it. In another instant, all of the shading came back, now a cyan and blue color to it all. Then back to the bland, colorless stillness. Shifting back again to a new color, in a cycle it flowed. Washing in and out like waves. Each shift made the last one harder to recall. They didn't form tangible memories, any thoughts to anything more than a few seconds ago was more like an an imagined vision that was open for interpretation, and susceptible to cacophony of fleeting thoughts in the man's head.
A look down at his hands to see what was there gave any less answers. Opened palms would be gloved, and follow the shifting hues. Only for it to wash grey, and show barehands. Without a mirror, it was impossible to tell what was happening, or if he was seeing this through the eyes of Zelrius or Markus. Was there even really a difference?
He looked forward, staring off into the space in front of him. Nothing came of it, no scenarios of past anxieties, or mistakes. Not like the dreams he was used to. The ones that bubbled and kept him just barely below the surface of being conscious. He was conscious here, atleast, in a way that was definable. Sort of like a lucid dream.
There was a voice, a sharp breath took in as his spine straightened in surprise, and turned to the source of it. Eyes immediately drew to the pool at her feet, as though she was walking on the surface of a painted pond. This wasn't someone he knew; she was shrouded almost by the landscape. Yet, her actual silhouette was given more detail each time the vibrancy was stolen, leaving him with the desaturated view of her, that shimmering pond being more like spilled water in those moments.
"Zelrius." He answered effortlessly. There wasn't even a moment where he thought to introduce as the person he really was. Just as the name left his mouth, it was though a switch flipped. The moments where there were color drew on longer than those without. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" his voice called back, fighting the tides of whatever this place was.
"...What do you see?" the dreamer followed up with, asking the invading entity. Looking for something to latch onto, something to ground the fog of thoughts that clouded his memory.
A distinctive silence descended as a third party come to settle between the two beings within the dream, spanning many seconds as if she were testing the weight of the question itself rather than deciding what answer she should give. For what purpose it was, if she should be careful with her response so as to not hurt the dreamer, if her words would be forgotten the moment their consciousness drifted apart from one another.
"Zelrius," his name fell quietly from her lips, spoken as a greeting and a relief both. Her voice was alive with a dreamy lilt, and the smile which drew itself upon her lips as she approached the red-haired knight pointed only to a kindness befitting of a long-forgotten acquaintance. "Are you a hero? ...You dream like they do."
Or so she thought. Chin tilted skyward, the space above the pair spoke to her of a vision where hues shifted to lighter tones before the colors were drained of them, a monochromatic wave surging through the expanse of color and leaving nothing in its wake but the hope that one day, they would return. For the storyteller who had made it her mission to write of others' exploits in a world of make-believe, was this not the embodiment of what a hero was? To enact change and bring the colors back to a world of gray?
When had those intentions been buried underneath the flashy displays of power and zeal? Buried under the adoration and love received from the masses?
This, too, was saving something. However minor it was.
Beside him, she lowered herself to a kneeling position above the shimmering pools of water gathering at their feet, hands cupped to pierce the ground underneath and bring some of those waters into her palm's embrace. Waters trickled down her forearms and returned whence they came before long, spilling from her fingers and onto garments she cared so very little for.
"Rael," she offered her own name in one timid exhale, resting her hands atop her lap as her gaze passed from the man, to the waters that pooled around them. Though the circumstances of their meeting were leagues beyond the ordinary, it somehow affected her little if one could judge her by the way the twinkle in her eye grew brighter with each vibrant wave washing over the dreaming world. "Would you believe if I said this was not my intention?"
She relished in the unknown, in not knowing the causes for the events unfolding around her person, because there was something worth discovering behind those questions she didn't know the answers to. Together, perhaps, with the one whose dreams she could now witness.
"I see... Change. Beauty. Resignation. If the colors are what I am to interpret, then... An array of wonderful memories and ideals washed away by periods overcome by something, I cannot quite put my finger on it."
He couldn't help the smile that tugged on her lips, the embarrassed laugh at the soft question of him being a hero. He considered for a moment simply saying no, and leaving it at that. He wasn't a hero - not a true hero. Not like others he knew. It'd be a lie to compare himself to those he considered to be described as such. That wasn't the whole truth, though. The reason for the way the invader simply assuming him to be one would make him smile the way he did. For once, Zelrius decided to be truthful with someone, and with his once. "I'd really like to be." Heroes were stoic, steadfast, daring. They stood for justice, they were loved by many. They faced their problems and fears with a smile. The colors were bright as he followed wherever it was the silhouette had now looked up to.
But that wasn't him, the real him. The him that was laying in a bed somewhere in the heart of Boston going on nearly thirty hours or so now. Who would only move to sustain a meager existence, waiting for all of his problems just to solve themselves. The landscaped floating back to an unsaturated state. He looked back to her. Watching the pool of water stain her form with light as it dripped and dropped from between her hands. The moment she said her name, it was as though a switch had flicked. Starting from her abdomen, and spreading out, detailing all of her features to him. The first thing to notice by the man was the way she seemed immune to the grayness, always remaining a vibrant, color landmark, standing tall.
"I see." He answered flatly with the way this Dreamt up Elf answered his first question. This was not by her design, meaning, that it was of his own. That concept was too difficult to explore further than that, as each second seemed to drift away into the sparkling sky by itself.
Change, Beauty, Resignation. He couldn't help but let those words rattle in his head. They were something of a reading, even if he didn't fully understand of what. "That makes two of us." He answered, not able to grasp the exact specifics either. He looked forward now, ahead. Toward the horizon that was being shrouded by the peaks of the landscape. Rael was the only thing permanent in his mind right now. Maybe she could help? They could find answers together, before she too drifted and faded away. He needed to keep her anchored, in a way, keeping himself anchored. His hand reached out to the invader with the pool at her feet. "Want to see more, then?" The man offered a deeper delve into wherever it was they were.
Their first clue would illuminate itself in that moment. A twisting and winding marble path in front of him, one that's path was predetermined. Others ran parallel, filled with shadowed figures that glided and stepped along easily. The other paths visible were treaded by detailless husks, with their vague face shapes shifting in and out of focus. The only constant being the color of their 'eye's. Ovals and squares of singular colors that would all blend grey with the color being sucked out of the world, before refilling. They'd all continue to move forward with ease, sharing the trait of twisting their necks to stare right at the pair for a few seconds, before looking forward again. Only to twist and untwist again in a cycle.
Zelrius took his first step on the empty one carved out specifically for them, immediately met with why its difference. A pair large blocks jutted from the marble below, leaving only a small gap between them. Without hesitation, the man was urged forward, tightly squeezing himself into the space, and shuffling along uncomfortably. "Sorry," He immediately wheezed out to the his current anchor. Already concerned that this was too much trouble for her. Yet, he didn't want her to leave due to the inconvenience.
Crystalline eyes held the man's gaze with the full force of the unabashed sincerity that she poured into every interaction, because she had no reason to lie. No reason to flatter him or inflate his ego. She spoke the words because she believed them, however unreasonable it might seem for a first encounter.
Rael had nearly jumped to her feet at the question, half wondering if the thinly veiled emotion had escaped his notice as a gentle breath tumbled from parted lips. Two specters of light, lost amidst a vast sea of unknown origins, a stranger to the concepts of limitations and ordinary situations. It answered to neither of their spoken words, speaking a language entirely of its own. A more experienced dream diver would've warned her to stay her course, to turn back and leave the man to the visions crafted by his mind, but she was not one to listen to reason. Not when so much remained to be learned and experienced.
She took the role of the Guide.
What better way to accompany the dreamer, the sole master of the realm through which the two walked, without disturbing his sleep? If she were a Guide, able not to seize control of the dreaming world, but able to steer him in the direction that would allow for Zelrius to take in the sights brought about by his own subconscious, wouldn't that be better?
Her fingers delicately, and ever so carefully, wrapped around his ring and pinky fingers. She tugged, her touch faint. One would barely notice it there if not for the occasional pull she gave, leading the pair onwards to where her curiosity took them next. Almost too gentle that it gave away the impression that, with the slightest amount of pressure exerted onto it, it could fade away as quickly as it had first manifested.
A path spiraled forward, ill-defined figures dotting the edges of her vision in a blur of motion that disappeared off into the distance. The hand that did not hold his fell onto his forearm, pinching a bit of the fabric as she called for his attention to present yet another question, "Do you like people's eyes the most?"
It was a curious observation that she had made, one probably best not to dwell on too much. Unconsciously, she had let go of him, too enraptured in the disappearing ovals and squares that looked away from the pair. Regaled them with their attention one second, then turned away to continue down their paths in the next.
And the monochromatic waves never took the vibrancy away from their eyes.
If they walked away from him, would he still remember the color of their eyes the most?
A comforting, distracting thought. When the woman had come back to her senses, reminding herself of the presence of another whom to keep company, she was met with the immediate changes made to the road they were meant to walk. More than that, she had to crane her neck up a little to watch the red-haired individual.
"No need," she replied, no visible change in her demeanor as she took a step backward, and then another, and another, the gap between the two growing larger with each movement of hers. "Make room for me."
Fully intent on catching up to him, she broke into a small run, momentum carrying her up the steps of the path-turned-staircase and into his personal bubble, although she would not stop there out of an obvious lack of room where the two could fit comfortably.
Rael put herself forward, gaze downcast to ensure she didn't slip off of the steps, her head buzzing with a swarm restless thoughts.
Lips pulled up, the corners curling as he fought the instant reaction Rael's words sent toward the dreamer. He couldn't help the way his face would turn away, trying to hide the shock of happiness that came just from the mention that he was perceived as one. "No, no. Like the ones you hear about in fairy tales, or as the main characters of RPGs." trying to dismiss her statement as having not communicated it well enough. She'd perhaps be quick to change her mind once he actually described what a hero was, and that way, it'd be obvious that he wasn't there. Not yet, maybe not ever. Heroes don't lie in bed for days on end, and fail at even the simplest of adult work.
Yet, when he finally looked up again, all he found was her eyes looking back at him. Locked into that statement. Was she inspecting his temporal, shifting form in this dimension? Getting the measure? He turned, and shied away. Actually letting those thoughts and doubts be among those that escaped his mind with every passing second in wherever the hell it was they were currently in.
An already aflamed heart felt weak, simultaneously beating like the wind, yet distant, as though he could only feel it through someone else's body, was made more so at her gentle grasp of his two fingers. That wasn't quite what he was expecting, yet in a way, it filled in unspoken details about this strange, pointed-ear woman who was in a landscape of neither's intention. For Zelrius, this hold would suffice, if she was willing to follow where his outstretched arm lead them. It wasn't the warm hold he was used to when clasping hands with another, but felt like the way a child might hold onto helium-filled balloons, unaware that they could float away. Higher up the steps, cramped and shifting. Each one passed, another was created. Sometimes requiring large steps, or for the pair to squeeze through.
He nearly jumped at her question, his blue irises now sweeping across what they could see to meet those very eyes. In a melting pot of memories that flew away like birds, it was easier to remember core things. Things about oneself. "You can tell that just from them?" He asked, staring one of the husks down, it's haunting, violet eyes scowling back across the blue and purple colors, before the grey flattened the land again, then returned to a bright green. It was true, whenever Zelrius met or spoke to people, it was the thing he tried to focus on the most. Trying to read their intent, their wishes. To find what amusement they were getting out of him, or to find the boredom he was used to seeing in so many.
He hadn't even noticed she was gone, with how airy her touch was. Having continued up along the path before her distant voice called out, and the dream-invader rushing to catch up, seemingly eager to come along. Another stifled smile, whoever this woman was, she was interesting, to say the least. Where did she get all that curious energy?
Further along they went, along the path that was more difficult than the others. Climbing and scraping by each of the physical obstacles. Zelrius couldn't help but notice the coincidence in each successive one. Every time he thought of what the next would look like, and tried to imagine its difficulty, there it was. A mirror image of the one in his mind. Blocking their way forward, manifested out of seeming pure magic. Like someone was toying with him, intentionally holding him back. Or, unintentionally.
Up and up they went, with the twisting necks and peering eyes. His gaze avoided all of them, either downcast, or turning to look back at the only other being of substance here, with her pink hair and pooling colors at her feet. She didn't have eyes like that. Only ones that searched, constant tiny movements, trying to drink in every detail. What was it that they were trying to find? His own eyes looked away before she could ask too many questions, or catch him looking for too long.
"Is this all there is?" a voice not dissimilar to Zelrius's called out. One of the shades had appeared on their path, the dark blue, desaturated hues narrowing. This one's neck was not twisted, rather, it stood. Cloaked in their path. The Adventurer was stunned for a moment, blinking. An answer came to him instinctually. "Yea. This is it, no way out." the dreamer answered. The world awashed in the muted blues, as though they were drowning in the depths of the ocean, though without the weight or pressure of actually present water. Then, silence. Both seemed to migrate to the Anchor, the Guide, wondering what her answer would be.
"These are your dreams after all. If they aren't manifestations drawn from that head of yours, then by whose design are we wandering through these bizarre sightings?" A deliberate action was taken then by the Guide, who, upon asking her question, could not help the chuckle that bubbled inside her chest as she spoke the words into being, obscuring the thoughts that weren't meant to be spoken at present.
The shades' wounds, so repetitive, the only other detail to remain about the people whom they drew their colors from... Had someone close to him, perhaps..? Rael's eyes observed him through the periphery of her vision, slowing her ascent throughout the entire time Zelrius looked down, inspecting the figures in amazement at her earlier observation.
The initial quest to seek the destination that Zelrius' mind drew him to culminated on a dead end, the pair joined by a third who was utterly distinctive from the man whom she had been accompanied by thus far, and at the same time, entirely different by virtue of qualities she could not yet name. Undetailed, as other previous shades had been, yet this one spoke with a resignation befitting the underwhelming finale that awaited them at the end of their path.
It wasn't as if she knew the man, after all. She knew the confines of memory restricted to the bounds of the vision the two shared, and such would dissipate the moment he awoke, probably returning to life as the Knight who never knew the Guide.
Should the realization sadden her? If they ever stumbled upon each other again, would he remember her as the Guide whose steps caused the pools at her feet to ripple with shimmering colors, or would he remember her eyes? How he avoided them, as if to meet her gaze would be an admission of his defeat in a game neither knew they were playing?
"Why should it be?" The dream-delver countered the dreamer's affirmation, taking full advantage of the silence which had been laid out for her in anticipation of her answer. Such a gesture did not go unnoticed, surprising as it had been, yet she said nothing and stuck to her assigned role. Rael held out a gentle hand towards the figure, urging it to inch closer upon that platform with barely enough room for the three who stood on it.
Her other, rather than turn to hold Zelrius as it had previously done, reached out to the vast, starlit expanse which denied them advance any further.
"There is a place where I go that no one else knows,
Her index finger caught a stray fragment of light in its touch, holding it as if it were the most delicate of things, because at that moment, if she so desired it to be, it might as well be. Wasn't such the capricious nature of dreams?
Where I am free so long as I let sleep hold me close.
The pink-haired woman nested the star within her palm and wrapped her fingers around it, as one often did with a wish, and held it close to her chest. Within the minute, she lifted it to her lips and whispered for an incantation to allow her magic to manifest in that instant, subtle, careful not to disturb the dreamer at her side.
A place of wonder and hope where even a shade
A familiar would not be born from the weave as she willed her intentions upon the star, stretching the same hand outwards to let it slip from her grasp and drift away from those gathered to witness its light. A star that would not be welcomed back home amongst its brethren as it struck a seemingly solid, unseen force which separated it from the rest of the universe that composed Zelrius' dreaming world.
The smile that crossed the elf's lips was telling of her intentions, a brilliance emitted from the space where the star had collided, growing into a tear in the space. From that tear, growing before their eyes, would in due time emerge the continuation of their journey - an imposing doorway several times their size that had not been present a moment before, intricate patterns carved into the material as some form of puzzle or code barring entry to the unworthy.
may find that out of starlight it is made."
Both of her companions' wrists were then seized by her hands, bringing them ever closer to the doorway so that she could rest both their hands against the patterns, meant for them since the very beginning. Made for this purpose, no sooner had the Shade and the Dreamer made first contact, the patterns ignited in the same wave of vibrant hues which colored and discolored everything around them.
It was an interesting insight. One that begged the question, one of the validity of her statement. It's true that dreams were completely artificial, made from the inside of one's mind. But, were they deeper images than that always? Zelrius - Markus, had always had trouble sleeping in the last few years. Haunted by his own regrets, but things that used to embarrass him happening again. Was that truly what they were, or what they were reasoned to be once the dreamer had woken up, and filtered them through his own memory and perceptions? Did any of the things they had seen really mean anything, or were they merely images thought up by his imagination?
Questions that he left in his mind, hiding the doubt from her. He didn't need to show her that side of him, the trait that caused the sneering, peering looks, and searching gazes in so many others in the years.
A Blink in amazement at her solid statement, a challenging question to his own easy surrender. Realizing only now that it such a surrender, and not merely a fact. He opened his mouth to answer, yet, the Guide's words separated the blue hues, like smoke being blown away, and clearing their path to the other, intertwining colors. Stopped by her outstretched palms, and the way one of the pins of light floated down. He could feel his heart rate rising, in something. Unsure of what that feeling was, what was making it rise quicker, though weakly. Getting the urge to call out to her to be careful with it, but stopped by not wanting to startle the pointed-ear invader of his dream world.
Her weirds echoed against the otherwise dark and empty landscape, bouncing from every rock, and carrying further into the distance. Only by the second line, did he realize that it was a song, or a poem of some nature. Told by the structure of its score. As quickly as it had come, it had left, floating upward. All of the colors of the world becoming a warm, welcoming hue of pink. His blue eyes following her extended hand, releasing the star back out to the land beyond. The resulting rift was one that made his eyebrows raise, there was a moment of hesitation at the door, with its ominous runes and odd symbolism.
"Rael?" Was all he could muster up when her hands suddenly found his wrists, wanting to ask what that was, how it is she knew that would happen. Where did she get the poem, what did it mean? Yet, despite her lithe form, and being nearly a foot shorter, her tug and pull was persuasive, almost compelling. Willing him to come with her to the door. Subsequently nonverbally commanding it open. There was a sense of accomplishment on his end. Having deemed it now wise, the initial offering of his hand to take her along. Anchor, Guide, Dream and Vision Expert. This Other was all of those things, and it really helped she seemed as genuinely interested in all of this as he was.
No longer was he a passenger, as the door creaked. There was resolution in his movement now, in the way his body steeled itself. That's what the rising heart rate was. Thrill, the only thing that made him feel like a winner. Not like the loser, wasting away in some apartment bedroom in central Boston, but like a Platinum-Ranked Adventurer. One who charged into battle and showed monsters no hesitation, or mercy. This door, and what lay beyond couldn't scare him.
His wrist bent up, to return the grab, firmly tugging her along noe into the next stage of his dream, one they now shared. The world was replaced by a sludge of black, and then a sea of spoted, twirling paint-like drops of liquid. Threatening to drown them both in its thick viscosity, holding Zelrius back, as he continued to sink downward ever more.
Suddenly, it was all gone, his shoes gently clicking and crunching into the gravel and crushed up stone below. A look around would show he was now at an elevation above their previous, perhaps on one of the mountains on the previously distant horizon. To the opposing side, were slopes and peaks that lead further up the pleateau. Most too steep or surrounded by rocks, making it largely impassable. The only visible direction was the few platforms he could see in the color shifting landscape. "Not as dramatic as I was expecting." he admitted, and half joked. throwing her a smile for it. He spun quickly around and began to slide down one of the nearby slopes, and between the rocks just below them, making his way swiftly to the rift between two of the platforms they could access. His dynamism and practice giving swiftness to his already fleet footwork. Stopping only to see a trail of bright, sky blue water eroding the rocks in front of him. A vibrant, glowing chroma to it, in between the washes of grey.
Ahead, on the other platform, a mass of shadows and black tendrils. There wasn't even a thought of running away. Not now, certainly not in front of someone else. But more importantly, never in the face of danger. It was just a dream, afterall, what's the worse that could happen?
"Can you see a way across?" He called over his shoulder to her. There were more questions, things he wanted to say. To have a moment and just talk to her. But that would need to come later. Zelrius could feel the mounting excitement, as he began to theorize the width of the rift, silently wondering if he could make it as he reared back slowly, intent to do just that after giving the elf a moment to answer.
For this Cycle, Movement is free range. Rael can go anywhere and inspect the landscape, though must come up with a plausible reason if she is intent on finding a way across the river in the center, currently being impassable terrain. Or, she can elect to inspect around, and next Cycle, Zelrius will use Carry and take her across with him when he uses Dynamism + Pyromancy to jump across the Rift.
It was akin to watching the rebirth of an entirely new creature.
His hand, though it had made no attempts to escape her grasp, hadn't gone along with her initial plan either. So stuck in the lands between all that defied what he knew thus far: resignation, and acceptance. If you tore apart both sides of a person, and discovered them through the cracks that had been carved by the middle, would you be in the presence of the same person you once claimed to have known? Or would you simply witness the reality of their inner self coming to the surface, as if liberated from a weight it didn't know it had been holding onto?
For her, it was the latter.
Rael felt it first not when he pronounced her name, but when his pulse quickened under her fingers, when his posture changed and he raised his chin to welcome the change he, and no one but the red-haired Knight, was able to bring. Bathed in starlight Zelrius was, facing the endless expanse of space in all his humble ignorance, undeterred in his path forward as if he had finally remembered himself.
He didn't seek her out for advice or guidance, even when she was prepared and more than able to provide it for the Dreamer should he need it. While one might regard such dismissiveness of her role with a trace of bitterness in their gaze, there was none to be found in the elf's, whose whole being gladdened at the continuous metamorphosis of a man now unsure of himself, now turned to lead them out of their prison of make belief.
Bound to each other by that single point of contact, the pair continued onwards, leaving behind the shade whose neck remained intact, unlike the rest. Rael offered it one last farewell in the form of a wave of her hand, the soft click of the heels in her boots melting into the silence that would remain after the two were completely absorbed.
The thud of stone underneath their forms made her open her eyes, which had remained tightly closed ever since the viscous element had touched her chin and then swallowed her whole. One first, then the other, astonishment made evident on her features as the change in surroundings opened the world to countless possibilities of which they were barely scratching the surface of.
"For such a fancy doorway, I would've expected a banquet of sorts and maybe something... Brighter! This is not any less fascinating, however." Who broke contact first was something that not even she knew, but by the time he was nearing the edge of the platform they stood upon, Rael had taken to the higher reaches of the stone. Hesitant after hesitant step carrying her upward, revealing more of the landscape's secrets to her than they would for someone without the ability to perceive it from this vantage point.
"Zelrius?" She called for the man, the smallest wobble in her voice echoing across the distance as the Guide's seemingly unfaltering determined disposition cracked under a pressure that grew the longer she stared at those radiantly colored waters. "I do not know how to swim, and that looks like quite the jump would be needed to make it to the other side... Perhaps if you went down the slope some more, to your left."
The entity before watched the two of them leave. Merely giving a wave back, and a large grin to Rael as she made her gesture of farewell.
---
He looked in wonderment over the landscape, his neck straightening when he was able to hear the guide's voice distantly behind him. There was something about her tone, the way she had insisted that they make it to the other side using a more cautious route that made him heed her qords. Take her small guidance. This person - whoever she was, was a friend. An ally. In a way that was difficult to explain. He felt like he was being led by her in some sort of way, the same as to the door when their hands touched. Being brought to a specific path. The thought was gone as quickly as it had come. Lost like the sensations of moments ago. It was difficult to concentrate, focus on who she was. Only, the feeling of trust persisted through the washing waves of time. Zelrius would hold onto that, and trust her. This entity in his psyche would not be one to lead him into danger, would she?
Left he went, skulking along the cliffside, and looking over. Going down the narrow slope further from her. His blue eyes searched until he could make out her form atop of the rocky elevation. The way she oozed colors, and glinted with light. Almost angelic - could she see him so clearly too? This distance now would make it hard to communicate. He'd speak to her with one of the only ways that Zelrius was certain of himself in. His hand lifted, letting out a plume of fire to tower above his head. A signal of his presence, and of the fire that still burned inside of him with excitement. Now, at the narrow gap, he reared back, placing the bottom of his foot up against the rockface behind him. Before a rush of flame came, and the dreamer bolted. Intent on using his determination alone to leap across the ravine that separated him from whatever was on this mirror plateau. It seemed impossible, almost, yet he could imagine himself landing on the otherside.
Whether it was this subconscious want to land and make it that influenced this realm to play along with that desire, or if his speed from Dynamism really was enough to make the jump, the dreamer skidded to a halt on the other side, kicking up dust behind him as he the landing stuck. No sooner had he landed than he tried to look for the elf again. But, the air shimmered, almost like was looking across the land through rotating glass of some kind. One that reflected the light of a sun that didn't exist. His anxiety spiked, now looking toward the slope that led up on this platform. Something was there, its presence was visible through the sea of distortion that separated him from it, a blessing of his sight in this world. Able to see essences like this through all the visual noise. The dirty ground seemed to both stretch and shrink in front of him with every step, becoming both a small walk, yet seeming like an endless sprint.
"There's something here." He spoke quietly at first, then realized she probably couldn't hear him. Speaking up again to shout, hopefully his echoing voice was enough to discern for the Dream-Invader. The adventurer climbed up the rocks, wondering now what it was that lay ahead.
Feel free to freeform actions, since FL is a bit defunct. Summon things to give Rael extended range or sight, use masteries creatively. Surprise me!
Rael lowered herself upon the elevated ground and sat with her legs hovering over the descent, swaying back and forth as she awaited word of confirmation from Zelrius' safe passage to arrive. Flames rose in the distance, and though nothing was ever spoken, she cheered for him by clapping and continuing to await his return from the survey mission.
His colors, once vibrant and easily distinguishable from the space they traveled through, diminished the further away he went from her, until they became no more than the stars she had summoned earlier. Distant, a mote of light shining through the darkness, always out of reach.
"Zelrius, did you find a way across for me?" Rael cupped the sides of her mouth and yelled, as if truly to say: I'm still here! You forgot about me!
. . .
The Dreamer's guess was correct, for his screams reached not the elf's ears, but further stirred the beast from its slumber as the redheaded knight treaded alone on grounds that had gone unexplored before. However, the enemy that the dreamer would find would not be so threatening in appearance as the countless monsters he had fought during his travels.
A shimmer caught his vision, light given form, and form given purpose from before the two had dared to enter uncharted territory. The fluttering of thousands upon thousands of wings was what caught his attention, however.
Myriad butterflies, woven from magic, woven from love and loss and all that could be and no longer could, surged at the invader all at once. They blurred his field of vision, drowning him in their iridescent colorations as they surrounded him, yet none ever brought him harm.
It wasn't before long that the noise of their flight invoked not only an annoyance from the swordsman, but feelings, thoughts... All brought to the light they seemed to grasp at.
No matter how fast you could run.
No matter how long you could pretend to ignore it all...
You always knew it would all catch up to you.
(✦) Swarm of Butterflies
❰ 300 / 300 ❱
❰ 11 / 11 ❱
DC 90 Retal 0
Denial.
This realm, once so beautifully and carefully crafted by your subconscious, no longer answers you for the duration of the fight.
Additionally, no matter how much you move, or the direction you turn to, you can't seem to visualize anything beyond 20ft. of you, and you can never escape the swarm's embrace. It is endless, just as the earth you walk.
Anger.
Useless, useless, useless, it's all useless... Are you useless?
You lash out. You are hurting, and you can't help but want to dish it back, even if the fluttering of these ethereal wings never touches you.
By using AoE actions, you defeat multiple Butterflies even if you don't meet the DC. Increase [ Depression ] by 1 per enemy killed, without rolling a 1d2.
Forfeit the usage of any offensive actions, allowing for a butterfly to rest on your being. Submit yourself to the pain, to mend what has been broken. The Butterfly immediately dies upon doing this, reducing 1LP. Increase [ Acceptance ] by 1, without rolling a 1d2. Using Supportive Actions increases this number to 2.
Bargaining
You grasp at what you can, believe in what you must, so that anything might deliver you from the pain you keep locked away in your chest.
Instead of diminishing the swarm's LPs, you may try to reduce its SP to 0. Careful, for if you do so, the swarm will instead regale you with a vision of the "what if" you have always dreamed of, crafted by none other than yourself. Alternatively, you may also craft yourself a vision, stealing the swarm's power... But know you cannot run from these feelings forever; one day, you will be made to answer for them.
Reminiscence.
Whenever you reduce the enemy's LP by 1, roll a 1d2.
On a 1, your [ Depression ] meter increases. Visions of memories you'd rather forget begin to flash right before your eyes. Nonsensical, bits and pieces you struggle to piece together at first, but unmistakably yours, if the weight seizing at your chest is anything to go by.
On a 2, your [ Acceptance] meter increases. Visions of memories you have long since neglected begin to flash before your eyes. Peaceful thoughts, confidence, and self-worth are ignited like a bright flame within these visions. These are the memories that once helped you move forward.
Grief.
If your [ Depression ] meter is higher than your [ Acceptance ], the bounds of the dream become distorted, a mixture of elements that call your memories to unpleasant situations and thoughts. It wraps around you, seemingly endless.
If your [ Acceptance] meter is higher than your [ Depression ], the dream takes on a kinder visage. A peaceful atmosphere shifts and changes everything you see, offering sanctuary and respite to your battered soul.
If both meters are equal... Have you truly learned anything?
x2 Depression
x1 Acceptance
Not having a good time
Had he been able to hear Rael's call distantly behind him, the dreamer would have turned around swiftly and gone and gotten her. Perhaps in retrospect, he should have insisted she take his hand again, and ferried her across with his use of Dynamism. It was too late for that now - the man was thoroughly entranced by what lay ahead. Something calling to him, beckoning that he walk forward, to face a reality that he created.
"Butterflies?" He choked out in a fleeting thought in the moment before they were everywhere. His arms instinctively went up, and crossed in front of his face. Looking to shield him from their wings and bodies made of light. Even if their touch was delicate, these insects made of dreams and nightmares still had a way of instantly telling him that they were enemies. Or maybe that was his own mind that forced that idea on him. So used to everything not human in a game to be a monster. It was easier to fight fantasy monsters than to acknowledge that they might be more than that.
He breathed in deeply, turning away sharply, only to now see the endless swarm around him. Every movement was mimicked by the mass of starlight creatures. Every step, they shifted with him. This was some kind of trap or trick - like in those dungeon instances. It was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain a grasp on a single reality. Assaulted by a mass of nonsensical, disjointed thoughts and concepts that blended together, yet in their brevity, made so much sense to Zelrius. The way that one would distort their own thoughts in the brief moments right before falling asleep. That location in between being awake and resting. The inability to escape didn't frighten him, so much as tug on that short fuse of the knight's. Sending him already down his usual spiral. The kind that brought tears to his eyes when he was alone in his bed at night.
Are you useless?
No.
Why do you still live with them?
They're blocking my vision and escape.
Another excuse.
Just do it - It's not that hard.
Why can't I? Why does nothing ever go my way?
Because you're a loser.
His eyes stung already from what was welling up there. His hand clenched, his face scowled. In an instant, the man's body became the center of a spherical eruption of those thoughts. Manifested by that emotion of anger. The fire spread out, dissipating as it got further and further out before the heat was too thin to feel anymore. He could have sworn that he had let the fire lick and scorch away at the butterfly bodies. Yet, here they still were, all around him.
He couldn't even get this right. Tears formed and disappeared the moment they left his eyes. It was like this every day. There was no direction, he always chose incorrectly. The brief moments he found happiness or success were always ripped away. The memories tainted by small failures at every turn. Why? Is this just what destiny had planned for him? To never truly succeed or get anywhere? At anything? All these hours into this game, and he can't even beat an enemy that doesn't fight back.
It didn't start with her. It was his fault she was gone - he should have never taken her out on that first date. He had already been losing by that point. He knew better than to try and bring someone else with him. It was selfish to propose, to think that was going to somehow anchor her, and erase all of the inadequacies. It was stupid. Is this all there is? The thoughts of the visage from behind the door had come back to him. His own resolute answer feeling more like the truth than ever before.
The world turned a deep blue, shifting between that and grey. Trapped in by these dream creatures, and holding him hostage now. He needed answers, guidance. But to impose on others? To beg for help - as a grown man. They'd just laugh anyway, have private jokes at his expense.
His hand unclenched, his tightened jaw slacking to a bitter, sad frown. It was all pointless anyway. No one could help him. It wasn't anyone's job or purpose to do so. And he lacked the inner strength to help himself. Maybe that was the problem. Wishing for things that can't come true. Seeing shooting stars, and wanting to be one of them. Wanting nothing more than to burn brightly in the sky, for others to wish upon.
His sleeve went up to wipe tears that weren't there out of habit. Fingers relaxed and straight now. By some cosmic coincidence, his arm pulled back away from his face at the same moment that one of the creatures came down, and rested. Slowly erasing itself into the air around him. It's gentle touch was comforting, and, although it was gone, that very fact was something that had placated the man's thoughts. Feeling like some kind of sign, a sign that told him something he already knew. Those thoughts and feelings were his own.
He did it to himself.
(-1 LP for the Swarm, +1 Acceptance)
Yet, that understanding didn't stop the attack of 'Why Me's and self-loathing. In a way, they made it worse, and only reinforced the idea that this was a course he could not divert from. Otherwise, he'd merely be running from who he was inside.
If Rael could see all of this, he wondered for a moment if she'd simply disappear, or become one with the swarm. Or watch and take copious notes. Some subconscious part of him hoped that she was close by, and would be able to help him somehow. This was nightmarish, and Zelrius desperately wanted it to end.
Zelrius wept beyond her sight, a fact that she would not yet come to realize, but she would still suffer the consequences of it nonetheless. Color gleaned from the neverending expanse of gray above, binding it to the whims of blue hues that were nowhere as relief-inducing as one would think when they first saw the sky after being deprived of the simple pleasure of it against their choice.
Melancholy saw the picture distinguish itself from the beautiful tones of a clear sky and take on more pressure than the swordfighter himself could, waging a war against his own psyche by no other design than... Hers? His? Had she, by mere chance of appearing in his dreams, caused his subconscious to react in a way that thought of her as a threat? These colors sitting above, overtaken by gray, and then reclaiming the upper hand yet again, invoked feelings not of tranquility, but of loneliness and...
Loss.
The earth beneath her shook to its very core as flames erupted way up ahead, her once secure footing now becoming a growing cause for concern as the Storyteller pulled herself from the spot where she awaited the knight's return, decided to look for herself rather than become a nameless victim of what was pulling the strings here. Another tremor saw her fall to her knees, hands brought up to her head in protection as she waited for it to pass.
Looking up, reflecting upon the clouds that escaped the wrathful flames and the swarm's movements, was a reflection of the memories he blamed himself for, openly in display for the world, for her, to witness. The visages of a life, torn asunder by the greatest tragedy that countless others could not escape from in the world outside Terrasphere, even if they so defiantly chose to chase after it within the limits of the game.
Vestiges of love, loss, guilt, and all those emotions meant for the one left behind to carry them within his breast. And her, the Guide to know of these thoughts by virtue of happening across them by accident.
Flames erupted, this time more erratically as the one burning sought to bring it all down with him, a pillar of light cutting across the distance by sheer will of force, the area around Rael growing more and more unstable the longer he remained unable to escape.
Perhaps she didn't possess a right to intervene. What had triggered the breakdown might as well have been her presence, after all. Maybe he had the situation under control and it was her sheer inability to discern the truth behind this space between reality and fantasy that kept her wondering if she should come closer.
But Zelrius...
Zelrius was a hero.
Was he not?
In her moment of need, would he come to her aid?
Would he leave her to her woes? To weep alone?
His desire for change, for resolution, for hope, would not be abandoned.
"Where are you?! I can't see you!" Rael's voice cut across the distance, followed by the echoes of hurried footsteps as she followed down the path he had traversed prior. Every now and then she would stop, a small shriek escaping as the earth underfoot threatened to give in.
"I'm here, I'm coming for you! Just... Hold on!"
(✦) Swarm of Butterflies
❰ 300 / 300 ❱
❰ 8 / 11 ❱
DC 90 Retal 0
New Ability Unlocked!
Support.
When was the last time you ever stretched out a hand, and held another with that same warmth burning fiercely within your chest? When was the last time you ever allowed yourself not to be alone?
Forgo the usage of your BA. When doing so, you may reach out a hand to seek another's aid within this dream. You will know when you need it.
Usage of this ability allows Rael to reach Zelrius faster.
x2 Depression
x2 Acceptance
"Is anyone out there?"
The tightness in his chest felt more and more like it was winding up. Twisting underneath his ribs, threatening to crush his heart. Butterflies would land on him, their thin, delicate touch being a slight tickle on his skin and clothes. Quickled he'd try to wave them away, the same one would do if any bug had found rest on their body. It seemed Zelrius couldn't move fast enough to keep them all away without flailing around frantically. Something he truthfully didn't have the energy for. This was an emotiona rollercoaster; seeing the vistiges of his late-lover. her back toward him, or the glint of her smile. Gone again, ripped away over and over. He could no longer muster the harsh movements, or the spheres of fire to burn away his enemies. Simply left to trying to flick them away one by one, only for each to take flight for a short moment and try to rest again.
Their shining, crystal blue bodies had parted enough to reveal another shade. The expedition into the tangleweaves with the rest. Faceless bodies with only eyes on carts that charged, yet remained still. The color among the depressing blue backdrop contrasted by glaring red blaze of a fireball that rocketed around. Without needing to see who it belonged to, the Dreamer was able to recognize himself. To see this moment. For it to be replaced again with a similar scene, except the floor was green now, instead of brown. A shade falling off its horse when struck by a blade thrown through the air like a javelin. His blue eyes met with the glowing specks of the shadow who threw it, once more seeing himself again.
There were these moments that he had forgotten. Where he had done something worthwhile, and others had seen. On their way to save a king, or scout out a new land with an infesting swarm controlled by demons. Moments that made his heart pump, that seemed to both slow time down, and rush through it at once. He lived for those moments. Even now, he could feel the sting of adrenaline in all of his muscles. His body trying to replicate those feelings, to let him feel alive again. It worked - in a sort of way. But, just as it had began to remind him of thrill and success, these were the same feelings that accompanied humiliation and anxiety.
The chaos and turmoil made all of those resting butterflies take flight again, mimicking this response. Fluttering around, absorbing his form once again in a tornado of their bodies. Again, again, again, again. His mind found the pattern, and instantly began applying it to the memories. Showing over and over the disappointment in his father's face, a flash of still images that overlaid each other. Replaced suddenly with that of those he called friends.
"Stop..." His shaky voice came out. Repeating everything, like a broken cassette tape, spinning through its cycle over and over. "Stop!" came to begging now. A demand that wasn't heard. He saw those looks before. Had convinced himself that he was imagining things, or that he was applying malice where it simply wasn't. Giving people words that they never said. Or perhaps they did? It was hard to deny memory, even if that was imagined in place of apathy. Which was worse?
He heard the echo of the feminine voice cut through the air. A distant call out, miles and miles away. Yet, still reaching out to him. He didn't know how to stop this - but maybe she did? She had already guided him once before. The feeling of her gentle, warm grasp on his when they had entered the door faded in and out of his mind. A new memory, one that he didn't want to let go of. The possibility of help, of any of this going away. The hero could not pass up the chance.
What was her name, again? It felt like an eternity ago that she had introduced herself. The beauty of color pooling at her feet. A light when the world was a dark violet hue.
"Rael..." the name came to him suddenly. His didn't echo. It felt dampened, suffocated. Weak. Was he really going to ask for help from this girl?
He needed the help. The dreamer cleared his throat, taking a step forward, calling for the Guide once again. "Rael!" Shouted with conviction. Resolved to trust her, to hope she was genuine in her meaning. "I am over here - somewhere." Shouting again, hoping that she'd be able to hone in a little on the sound of his voice. How would she be able to find him in this swarm of butterflies? His hand reached out into the endless voice, looking to give her atleast something to see, or bump into, or grab onto.
Waiting in silence as the specters of the past haunted him. The phantoms of his own psyche that both pushed him forward, and held him back. He stared at his outstretched hand, waiting, listening to the thumping of his heart. Hoping she'd be here soon...
(✦) Swarm of Butterflies
❰ 300 / 300 ❱
❰ 7 / 11 ❱
DC 90 Retal 0
+1 Acceptance from no offensive action.
Bonus Action - Support: "Is it true? That I am not alone?"
Aspects of sorrow made manifest clung to him like parasites of which no cure would ever get rid off, the ache set deep within his chest since time immemorial caught up to the one who ever ran from them. In the waking world, in the world made of starlight and heroic legends, and now in the world where he was to be lord - his own dreamscape.
Was she to remain idle? To ignore his cries for aid? Instants ago, Rael had recognized the pain within his voice and thought him injured, prey to a monster unlike those the two fought during their days on Arcia, but the truth was much more complex than that.
She understood, much more so than she had the right to, that this was a fight to be settled by the stranger whose dreams she had invaded. The Hero, the Knight, would not protect others if he wasn't to confront the truth about himself first and foremost.
Memories are gateways to the soul, as indicative of one's worth as eyes were to a vast majority of the population. To look upon one's memories, upon one's eyes, and see the kindness, the cruelty, the pain within them was to truly know a person and see them for the first time, no matter how long the two might've known each other prior.
If, upon witnessing the true parts that encompassed anyone, you could accept them - truly, fully, honestly accept them - then you would've found the greatest gift there was to be received: a friend.
Rael saw then more of the memories ignite about the growing expanse of his dreams, his spoils and victories celebrated, triumphant echoes of distant voices heard over the eerie silence that besieged the space between Dreamer and Guide.
Kind visages, vestiges of what made up the person he wished to be more than anything in the world, more than himself, even.
But wasn't Terrasphere a doorway of sorts, too? One to show who the person behind the mask worn in real life, allow others to glimpse at a truth too impossible to name in as complex a world as the one they belonged to.
If upon removing that mask, he was trying his utmost best to change the world around him, to be better, to make others better... Wasn't he then the person he couldn't view himself as?
Right on cue, the flame-born knight's torn emotions led the direction of the dream astray. Glimpses of his past, the cruelty, and sadness he had known exposed in a way that made his cries for help all the more understandable. A loved one's fate, the complexities behind interpersonal relationships, people that weren't worthy of the kindness that was shown to them - all of it.
A heart polluted by the mixture of their woes and sorrows, their joys and hopes, would never know peace. Not until they laid one or the other to rest, and here was a person who desperately clung to the worst parts of himself and thought nothing of the rest.
"Zelrius!" The Guide called in response each time he yelled out her name, the chorus of their voices united as she ran towards the tumultuous hurricane made up of beings of light.
And as she approached it...
She stood at the very edge and did not budge from the spot.
Rael reached a hand forward towards the butterflies who did not mind her, their purpose not to pester one who didn't rightfully belong. She was to be a witness, and nothing more.
This matter was to be resolved by the one who most needed it. The only one who could confront the specters of his past was in the eye of the storm.
The Guide would offer her support in ways that didn't give the answer away. He had to make a decision, and she had to respect it. Nudge him in a direction, however...
"Can you hear me?"
A butterfly settled on her finger, its warmth eluding her. The elf smiled kindly, blurred features reflected in the mesmerizing flutter of its ethereal wings as it kept her company. When he was ready, he would find her hand outstretched, ready to receive his within its grasp once more.
In the meantime, she would stay where she could be found. Melodies would form from her throat, coalescing into words spoken in the language that all elves in Terrasphere spoke, their meaning no less comforting or helpful because of it.
The melody resonates within the confines of the dream, all-encompassing, without direction. Zelrius will have difficulty knowing where her voice is coming from, but her singing is a comfort. It is a reminder that he is not alone.
Zelrius' abilities are enhanced by the song. He may take 2 actions, as if under the effects of [ Twice ], and double the results towards the [ Acceptance ] or [ Depression ] tallies.
x4 Depression
x3 Acceptance
"I see that nothing has changed."
It was, strangely quiet in this swarm, when one really thought about it. Casting away the stressful chaos of whirring thoughts and insecurities of inadequacy, disappointment, and grief. Their wings hardly made a sound; little more than tiny beats of air as they came close by, ones that oscillated in the dreamscape, and ended as they continually tried to land on Zelrius's body. That moment of peace once again erased by the visions. There were none at this moment; struggling to find whether he should accept his thoughts, or if he should continue to press down on himself. To keep beating on the same points that floated around and landed in his mind for years now.
There were no visages, no kindly or mean spirits. Only the butterflies.
His name tore through the silence of the air. The voice of the guide, calling him by the identity he most identified with. The one that sough heroism. Was there an answer to give her? What was her name again?
No answer was needed, it would seem. She had her own, by way of an ethereal voice. One that began a hymn of sorts. A Language he didn't understand but that spoke memories into existence. No longer were the peering eyes of dark shades on his mind. But a more fantastical world. With trees tall enough to reach the clouds, and ivory snowcapped mountains. Where creatures large and small wielded magic. These visions were fleeting, they did not encompass the landscape like those of the past. Though their message was communicated.
The sky shifted, taking on a crimson hue, warning of the inner thoughts of the dreamer. Where it was that he found strength, and how it was he had learned in these recent years.
The flames spread, much more controlled in their purpose. Spreading from his hands and legs, outward and finding the bodies of the butterflies. Gripping at their fragile forms, and using them as fuel, spreading to the next. One by one, each became a small pile of ash, before falling to the ground. The storm reacted accordingly, now fluttering around in a mixture of fear, and curiosity. Reacting to the heat by getting away from it in every direction.
"No," The dreamer complained softly. He could feel it, the crimson hue began once more to be drowned out by a deep, dark blue. Their parting bringing images into this physical realm. Inescapable, unavoidable.
Two shades. One with blue eyes, the other with green. They quarreled wordlessly. Their body language stiff, the one with blue eyes holding up something - a small container? Empty. The two's vision narrowed at each other, before the one with green eyes began using their form to try and physically push the blue-pupiled one forward. Neither budged, or moved forward an inch.
"You deserve better. Someone who actually wants to progress..." Zelrius said, unable to separate himself from his shaded reflection of that moment. That was always a trait of his; this inability to do anything. A lack of ambition, and surrender to fate. The container was always going to be empty, what was the point in trying to fill it? Even if one could find the coins that belonged in it, they'd be gone as soon as they came. The world was cruel like that, and he wasn't born well-enough off to ever change that.
So why even try?
his gaze fell to the ground in equal parts shame and self-loathing. This hadn't started with her being gone. It was always there. She was an excuse.
As Rael's song continued to resonate and echo throughout the landscape, the loser had to wonder if she could see these things too. Even if she was just a figment of his imagination, something not real, the man still wondered what the elf would think of him.
It is true in this moment that he wasn't alone. But did that matter? Even with her presence, and assistance by way of comfort, he was still stuck here. Forced to face the past, and still succumbing to the thoughts they had always given him.
It was useless - futile. Just like the container, his life was empty. Devoid of meaning. Everything he tried ended up mediocre at best.
