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Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies

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Of Cloudless Climes and Starry Skies

Post  Wynnsaren on Mon Jul 06, 2015 9:27 pm

The sigh that rolled from her throat came from the innermost parts -- the very depths of her soul.  There was nowhere on this or any other world where she could find such peace!  Home, that sigh sang as clearly as the starry host above.

Wynnsaren tucked herself a little more deeply beneath the arm curled about her shoulders and decided that if she had any say in the matter, that she would quite like to spend her next lifetime just so.

"I am close," she murmured softly to the man reclining beside her on the orchid petal divan, "so close.  Answers I have found and yet there remains something just out of reach -- something scrawled beneath the madness, but I am seeing beyond that now with greater success.  A riddle I think, is slowly piecing itself together."

The aasimar turned her head to the side to find Rasven Winter peering back at her, those piercing onyx eyes filled with warmth and serenity.

"There is something I must confess to you, my love," she revealed, though sensing he already knew what she was about to say.  

He leaned his head against hers and breathed the words, "tell me," against her forehead.

"I am terrified."  Wynn ground her teeth against the admission.

"This path I have been following. . .  All of these clues I have been seeking out.  All of them lead me to the Dreamer and all this while I have believed that I am being led there by the gods to stop what is about to happen.  I still believe this.  However. . ."

"Rasven, I suspect that they are not the only ones leading me on this path," she choked in quiet horror.  "What if the Dreamer himself guides me from the space between the stars?  All this while we have been working to stop lurkers and cultists and alien creatures from trying to wake him. . .  

"What if I am the one born to wake him when the stars come into alignment so that Matsuro Shi might have the chance to end him before all falls to chaos?  Is it possible that the Dreamer and the gods call me down the same path?"

She rattled in a breath to avoid a panic.  "Much will be answered on Luthunar I hope. . .  I fear," she corrected, leaning her head back to raise her eyes to the moon hanging above them.

"Either way he awakes," came the familiar but oddly resonant voice beside her.  "Either way the Dreamwalker will come and what will you be willing to sacrifice?

"My life."  Wynnsaren stated without hesitation, her eyes on the heavens.  "All of them for this purpose."

A dry, crackling sound could be heard within the Merchant Prince's voice as he wheezed the response.  "Too easy.  Your life is too easy to give.  Too easy to take.  What about theirs?  Thaddeus, Paido, Sarala and Zastrun. . ."

"They have been born for this purpose as have I," she frowned against such reality.  "The risk has been made known to them as well as the cost should they fail."

"And this one?"  

Rasven's shaking hand slithered beneath her chin, forcing her to face the thing that was emerging at her side!  The half elf's aristocratic features contorted in agony as the muscles beneath his skin writhed and rippled, before finally being shredded as dozens of black tentacles burst from arms and legs and torso, tearing him to pieces!  The appendage that emerged from his throat splintered his jaw and wrenched his head up, separating it from his shoulders with a sickening crack and ripping of flesh.  Speared upon this enormous, writhing tentacle, his eyes never left hers.  Sad and accusing, they looked down upon her as the life drained out of them.  

"Did you ever really think he was yours?" The now disembodied voice rasped.  "Fear not, diviner.  You will see what comes for you!"

It was her own shriek of ineffable terror that finally woke her.  Wynnsaren clutched at her throat and found beads of sweat had pooled there in the hollow, while the metal dome of the great cathedral upon which she'd made her bed for the evening, slowly cooled the heat from her dream-feverish skin.  A nightmare. . .  Tears of fear and relief spilled from her eyes and ran in silver rivulets down the grooves of the dome.

But was it a only a nightmare?  Tomorrow she would lead Matsuro Shi to the Somal Gate and from there -- for better or for worse, answers as to how to wake the Dreamer.

Carpe DM

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