• Mature • Rota Fortunae

[Llyr Llywelyn]

Previous
Saun 3, 719; Trills after Midnight

Hands firmly held, Llyr guided Sybil and by his connection to the student, he led Kasoria as well. Through the light-filled portal, the three exited out of Sybil’s dreamscape and entered into the Veil.

Once Llyr stepped across the threshold, what had been calm and unaffected in the biqaj turned keenly focused. He forced Sybil farther into the Veil with a rough yank of the student's arm, almost throwing the two initiates the rest of the way into the thin border-world. As soon as he was certain that Kasoria no longer had any part of him lingering in the dreamscape, Llyr let go of Sybil's hand. Ether rushed around the pair, to encourage their momentum, to swiftly distance them away from the portal.

Llyr turned his fixed attention, with eyes of vivid scarlet, onto the ingress he'd created. Tendrils of light flashed around the space as it attempted to widen. The undying construct remained despite Sybil’s lack of presence, the dreamscape scaffolding remained in some twisted form. He blocked the others from the portal with his lean body. The young mage placed his palms on either side, grabbed hold of the tendrils, and moved them back inward.

As forcibly as he’d opened it, he closed the portal. He ground his heels into the floor of the Veil. Sparks of ether flew up around him. Strong scents of heavy rain and thunderstorms emanated from the etherist. The blond stroked his hands side to side, a dance of his arms and he laced the portal with strands of ether twisted around his long fingers. He tied it shut, tightened the ether until the portal disappeared as if it'd never been there.

He exhaled lowly, relieved that he'd managed to close it in time.

Have to be more careful, can't have that thing finding its way here.

Llyr turned back around and forced a thin smile onto his pale lips. He outstretched his arms in a wide sweep of their surroundings. “Welcome to the Veil, Malach.”

What he saw… he knew the other two couldn’t also see. No matter how massive the towering screws that perpetually turned in ramp and staircase-like formations. No matter the non-euclidean glass that sparkled, reflections in warped figures and odd shadows. No matter the churned wheels that moved along each other in jagged perpetual motion, made of coppers and silvers and gold and other materials, embedded with all sorts of gems. Neither Sybil nor Kasoria would see any of it. Only he would.

So he began, “The Veil is the place that exists between the waking world and the dreaming world. Between Idalos and Emea. It is a map of minds. It will lead you to wherever you wish to go, given enough time and cleverness. Both in spirit and once you've journeyed enough, in body as well.”

The young mage glanced at Kasoria, with eyes of ice-blue, and wondered if the Etzori had figured out how to bring himself physically between the worlds yet. He didn't ask though. He would later, perhaps. There were other pressing matters to attend to, such as Sybil's adjustment to the new place. He continued, “The Veil does not appear identical for any two walkers. It builds itself from the very fabric of our thoughts, feelings, and beliefs. Specifically, our perceptions toward what we see as... freeing, or as passage, or such things. Even as my initiates, brought to this controlled waking state within a place that it should not be capable in, you likely perceive something else than I.”

Llyr gestured for them to follow him, and he walked along the flat glass of the Veil. “Keep near. So, therefore, I must ask... both of you, for that matter... if you are able to describe what it is you see and sense around us?”

[Kasoria]

Kasoria had found that it helped to keep your eyes closed, when crossing between worlds. Which was exactly what they were doing. Whether it be a mind or a place, in the Dreamscape, they were the same thing. Minds made worlds here, separated and freed from messy and tedious bodily functions. An idiot who could not dress or feed himself could imagine worlds vast in endlessly complex; a prisoner could be liberated every night, visit every corner of Idalos. So to travel from such places into the... relative stability of the Veil, well-

Ain't no little thing.

Fortunately, it was a quick thing. Fast as stepping through a doorway. Only the thin expanse of the opening was chill as a blizzard and baking as the deep desert, all in the same moment. The paradoxical feeling shuddered over Kasoria from his hair to his toes. The shock alone was enough to make him blink in surprise. He never got used to it. There was nothing... physical, about it. The crawling, crackling sensation seemed to start within his body, and work its way out to his skin. But by the time he'd registered it, his eyes were open again-

-and there were in the ocean. Or just above it, to be precise.

Something angry, hungry, indignant and persistent moved behind them. Kasoria didn't need to ask what it was. He just quick-stepped a few more paces ahead before turning. A muttered curse escaped his lips before Zarik shut the portal closed, slamming both ragged edged together like one would curtains to an unpleasant scene. The tear in reality mended itself and as the Quacian stepped away, Kasoria could see naught but more ocean in the space they'd stepped through.

He huffed out a breath. If he prayed, he would thank a god or two at that moment. So he didn't, and instead did something far more meaningful: he tipped his hat to Zarik, and thanked the being that had actually done something.

"Thank yeh fer that," he said, speaking words that came so hard and so rarely outside this place. Kasoria had come to quietly marvel at how different he seemed to be here... then choke back the bitter irony that it was only here. In a place not real, or at least not lasting. "'orrible fuckin' thing..."

His teacher started to give them a lesson, and Kasoria listened. He was one of those odd little boys that rather enjoyed school. Learning new things. Making the mind do things it couldn't before. Seeing maps, reading books, burning new images and ideas into the brain that blossomed into... well... much like the place they were in now, really. Endless possibilities. He'd walked a few dreams in his short time in the Veil, and knew the ones made by children the easiest.

No limits. No borders. What does a kid need them for?

The killer grunted and studied the two of them for a moment. They were looking at something else. He could tell. They seemed to be observing things he couldn't see; marveling and wondering, yes, but not at the ocean or the vast, blank horizon he could see. Certainly not at the countless doorways, resting just below the surface of the water. They trod across it like ancient prophets, casting ripples with every footstep. Under them, the gateways to the minds of men and strange races were dotted like sand grains tossed across a sheet. Thousands. Millions. All of Idalos that could dream, or think within their sleep.

"See an ocean," he said finally, as he crouched down, gazing at one such doorway. Green wood, moist fresh. He could almost smell the moss and lichen still clinging to it. "Big 'un. Biggest inna' world. We're walkin' onna' top uv'it. Doors t'other dreams ur'all underneath us. Jus'..." He waved a hand and snorted. So simple for him to see. But not them. "... reach down an' touch 'em."

Kasoria looked up shrewdly. That yearning for knowledge had never left him. It had just... changed. Directed towards darker, fell objectives and compilations of information. Here, at least, he could ask a question simply because a curious mind conjured it. He nodded to the girl and waved around his head.

"Wadaya youse see, girlie?"

[Sybil Malach]

I

The Veil.

Sybil was receptive to being pushed and pulled around. They didn't quite understand the world that they had just entered. At first, it was as though their senses were flashbanged out of nowhere. Pupils forcibly dilating, struggling to even decipher the new world unfurling before the portal. Llyr spoke, explaining the function of the Veil itself. Their eyes furrowed, as their thoughts cranked forward, digesting the information as best as it could. Connected minds... Connected through Emea?

What was more confusing, was... Why was it all so familiar?

A distinct thought planted itself in the back of Sybil's brain stem like some sort of seed. This place was distinctly foreign, they could feel in the center of their being that they, in fact, had never been to a place like this in person. The way that the structures of their lithe body waned before this place, hairs standing on edge, it was like standing on the precipice of a new world, rather than something that one would get deja vu from. And yet... Its mechanics seemed to click in their mind. It was easy to understanding that minds could connect like puzzle pieces.

As Kasoria neared, the student didn't seem to react much to his presence. He was familiar, someone that at least made sense would be nearby. But then the question left Llyr's lips. Then the explanation of what Kasoria saw left his. Eyes widening, it was clear that they weren't seeing the same thing, perhaps even feeling the same thing at all. What sort of sorcery was this, that perception could be twisted like so? Even in dreams, they thought, there was still some physical manifestations for consistency, but...

"Burning. Everything's gone aflame. The moons, the stars."

Yes... The sky was cooked. The air that left their throat was visible, grafted down into vapor. The doors, whatever they were, took on the shape of slits in the universe. Twisted, crooked, nonsensical, they looked as though they were hastily made for some sort of escape. The scent of sulfur was upon the wind itself, obsidian lining the floor to this place. In Sybil's mind, this was a strange, unending place that was covered in chaotic terror, operating like some sort of spider's nest of minds.

"The ground is made of obsidian. Smoothed to a shine. The soles of my boots are sticking to it." They lift their leg, as though to test what they had said. It took more than a little bit of effort to force the sole from the ground, and hold it above. Testing it, it was easier to move it around, once the initial stick was thwarted. Eyes turning to the sky, they try to find something else to describe. It was chaotic, confusing. A sensory overload of misfiring synapse and boiling fevers, "There's a hole in the sky. It's eating the impurities left behind by the flames, absorbing it... Yet... Slowly. It'd take lifetimes for it to finish. Then there's just... Nothing. A void."

The grand abyss.

A looming despair that all chaos fears. The end of all things. A primal impulse of the fear of death, and the frenzied dance of life. A budding fervor. Sybil's gaze remains entranced by the blooming crimson, scarlet, and orange screaming out just centimeters from the void. How could something so bright be next to something so dark? Was it a trick of the light?

"There are... Other holes. They look like... Doors? Portals, maybe. I'm unsure. They're misshapen."

[Llyr Llywelyn]

A tip of the hat and actual thanks given, Llyr offered a momentary smile of acknowledgment. It was thin, however, without a show of his teeth. In the next few trills, it was gone. He ignored the other words, and paid closer attention to Sybil while he explained where they were and his understanding of what the Veil was. The biqaj decided to lead them through, despite that the very nature of the Veil made it impossible for a true tour.

An ocean, biggest in the world, walking along the surface with the entrances to minds underneath.

The demure smile from before returned to Llyr’s pale lips. He glanced at Kasoria in a survey. It suited the man, of course, so he didn’t suspect it to be a lie. His gaze slid over to Sybil as the question turned to the student.

It seemed more than obvious that there was a great deal of thought behind the meager words shared. He could almost see it in the jade green eyes, in how they widened and the pupils contracted and dilated in pulses. Llyr looked between his two initiates, a momentary comparison of both visual and otherwise.

He stopped their walk and faced them. Llyr - Mr. Magpie - Zarik folded his hands at his lower back, tall posture raised with his chin tilted ever so slightly up. While Sybil spoke, his gaze blatantly took in the measure of Kasoria.

Unending water and air, fathomless depths in every direction, but you only ever look below to find connection. Diving, rather than climbing…

Llyr’s ice-blue eyes drew away from the older man and returned to similarly measure Sybil from head to toe.

Everything aflame? Obsidian polished beneath, which you stick to? Hole in the sky… Fire uncontrolled, absorption of everything. Do you also seek the void? Passionately so... Or do you see others’ minds as ravines to be lost within?

“They are likely doors, unless the flames are,” he answered Sybil. “Since they are misshapen, I would assume they are the doors, or portals, to dreams. The misshapen nature of them could offer distinction between each other that you might learn to read in time.”

“Perhaps we shall enter one, at your discretion, but not yet,” he said, then he turned his gaze back to Kasoria and asked, “And why not yet?”

He waited only a few trills - just enough for the Etzori to consider the answer in his own mind before hearing Llyr’s - then the biqaj continued, “Because we do not know what lies beyond. Unless you have branded someone, any door or portal that you encounter within the Veil only ever leads to the unexpected. There is no way to force the portals to bring you to someone specific without a brand to link you to them. We cannot control our destination, though perhaps we might be capable of influencing somewhat... Yet, every time we travel the threshold, there is a chance for danger to befall us.”

“Now, because you are both ethereal in body,” he looked at Kasoria yet again, then asked, “You are, yes? You haven’t brought yourself over in physical form yet?”

A pause, just long enough for a yes or no, a nod or shake of the head, and then he kept on, “So you are in less danger than if you were physical. Bringing your actual body into Emea is as dangerous as being in Idalos with your body, perhaps a little more so considering the fundamental differences of perception that exist here and the possibility for… unlikely events.”

He gestured for them to walk again, then waved a hand toward what was the towered spiral staircase that twisted through his perception of the Veil. It was an upward sweep of his arm that he made, as if he were merely waving at an interestingly shaped cloud in the sky. “Still, there are dangers that lurk here. There always have been, while we laid sleeping, as unaware as a babe. Those who harbor sparks must be more keen, Karim. Excessive use of magic in Emea creates a scent that lures entities.”

“This is why we are walking away from where I forced open the Veil. I used ether to do so, raw magic, and the farther we distance ourselves from that spot, the better. I do not suggest attempting what you saw me do... Karim. It was a forceful manipulation of ether rather than allowance of the natural doorways that Emea provides. Sybil, you are unlikely to be able to do it at all considering your sparkless nature. However, when in great doubt or immediate danger, I find it to be best to keep moving through Emea rather than standing around... as if carried by the wind, rather than rooted to places.” Llyr wandered down what was a curved slope in his Veil, for he had many levels in all dimensions and it was not flat in the slightest. His wings fluttered to aid his steps, though when he looked over his shoulder he noticed that the other two walked with the ease of flat land. He supposed he must look as if he were levitating over - or maybe under - the ocean surface or polished obsidian of their respective dreamscapes.

“It might all seem quite simple,” he said to Sybil directly, for the Videnese was a student of the Academy after all, and he took this to mean that they had a higher aptitude for comprehension of the abstract. “But it is a rather enjoyable puzzle to explore. Every time I believe I might have it all figured out, I soon learn that is far from the case. Forever a fool, but in the most wonderful way.”

Llyr slowed their steps, then turned around again and loudly clapped his hands in front of him, as if squashing a bothersome bug between his palms. The noise echoed off the Veil. He spoke in a raised voice to gather any drifting attention of either initiate, “As I’m certain Karim has already found out, you can use your own dreamscape for various activities without the inherent danger of the waking world involved. Let me show you…”

He turned, then gestured to what for him was… a tall caged structure made of warped rusted iron and diamond-made glass… whatever it looked like to either of them, he didn’t know. This was his own door, the way to his own dreamscape, and Llyr offered the entrance to both his initiates and said, “Follow me through here.”

The pale biqaj hoped things wouldn’t get twisted in the fleeting moment in which he stepped through and entered his own mind, then waited for the two initiates to follow him.

As the dreamscape unfolded under his feet, he cleared the automatic subconscious design away so that when Kasoria and Sybil entered, they would find themselves standing in pitch darkness - a true void - except for the brightly lit halo above Llyr’s head that illuminated the emptied inner world.

“This is my dreamscape,” he informed once the both of them arrived.

A cold wind blew through the space, scents of a coming storm on the breeze. That tactile feeling, the sound of his voice, and the vision of the three cast around the light of his halo, were the only sensations which existed. All else had been removed.

“Here, I can show you examples of things and help you understand either what I know of dreamwalking or… even merely offer a space of practice for whatever you wish to explore in peace...”

He snapped his fingers.

Nothing seemed to happen, at first, and then glimmered light broke through. Stars upon stars, hundreds then thousands, then hundreds of thousand, then millions until they coated the darkness and rather than in a void of shadow, their surroundings switched over so they were standing in an overwhelming void of brilliant starlight.

“A snap of the fingers, a wave of the hand, gestures of all sorts can be used to control the ethereal fabric of your dreamscape,” he explained. “Whatever suits you, whatever feels right, whatever you desire.”

The young mage held out his hand, then gathered it in a fist. The light flooded past the two initiates, into his balled up hand, where it disappeared.

Around them, now, a natural medium was found with all the sensations expected as if they'd returned to some part of wilderness in Emea. Not overwhelming in shadow or light, a nice pair of suns existed in a cloudy sky just as it did on any ordinary Saun day. The trio stood with stone under their feet, and a glance around would reveal they stood on top of a flat cliff at the very peak of a mountain so tall that only clouds could be seen underneath.

“And why would you seek to know of Emea? Of Dreams? Perhaps this might vary for the both of you. There is knowledge to be had here, Sybil, great portions of it. There is power, Karim, latent in what you have already experienced. But like with most attempts to seek either of those things, there is also madness, perversity, and stumbles of ignorance.”

“I have chosen to initiate the both of you because I believe you have extremely capable minds, potentially strong wills, and most importantly, the ability to endure.”

“There are no other initiates of mine. You are my only ones. For however long I choose to remain bonded to Idalos, before I eventually depart the waking world to reveal, I shall aim to help further your knowledge and build your power to make use of it however you wish. The ultimate desire to live free and make your own decisions is, if I’m not mistaken, something you both have in common as well.”

“So tell me, my initiates,” he said in a low voice. “What is something you would like to learn?”

[Kasoria]

"Er... no. No, I ain't."

So much changed, and so quickly. So much was spoken, and all of it had import. Kasoria had to struggle to keep up with both. His world, his life was one mired in reality. Cruel and cutthroat as it was, at least it didn't often cross into the realms of magic and ether. Nowadays? He seemed drowned in the stuff. He'd been hurled without warning into the great vastness of the world beyond Etzos, and now his journey back to that city was opening his eyes more than books or mentors ever could. He stood in that place of limitless potential, which he saw as a great, world-spanning ocean, and was something different to another, then another... both of whom were before him at the moment.

Shit, he asked another question.

No. It was a statement, instead. Fates, it was hard just keeping up with the man. Kasoria frowned as the younger mage spoke of "entities" in the Veil. In the same way someone might warn of sharks in unfamiliar waters, or bandits on roads they didn't know. Kasoria had the feeling it was more likely to be the first. He brushed his hands over the weapons still at his hip, and chuckled inwardly. How useful would those be, anyway? Constructs of true steel and iron, pathetic talismans against monstrosities of this... place.

"Place". Probably not even the right word.

He followed where his mentor led. That was what a good "initiate" did, wasn't it? He hadn't been one for a long time, and was a little rusty on the etiquette. But for all his oddness and youth, he recognized Zarik as his superior in the slumbering landscape. Every sentence he uttered was another lesson, another morsel of intelligence that he gobbled down greedily. When he clapped his hands and a doorway appeared, metal and brooding before his eyes, he didn't ask questions. He walked through and into-

"Shite!"

Comically, stupidly, ignorantly, Kasoria spread out his hands as if to fly as he walked into a place containing nothing, save Nothing. That was the other reality that seemed to exist in Zarik's dreamscape. An endless solid blackness that wasn't disturbed or marred by anything so tedious as "land" or "sky". He felt as if he would fall straight down, as if through a pitch night when tossed high above the clouds. But he didn't. None of them did.So he grumbled a few salty Ith'ession and listened instead. Then he stopped listening and just... gaped.

Stars were first. An ocean of them. Zarik snapped his hand and like a sack of pilfered diamonds, lights were hurled across the expanse that could be called "sky". They seemed to breed, reproduce, one dot becoming five then ten then a hundred and more and more... but then they stopped. No. They returned. Kasoria arched an impressed eyebrow as all this wonder, all those celestial bodies, flooded back into Zarik's palm, then were snuffed out by a fist that followed. Moments later, in all the time it took to blink or inhale sharply, Kasoria found himself standing on stone, with cold wind biting at his face. The suns were above them, warring with the chilly air.

So real. So... convincing.

The assassin listened anew, as Zarik sang his praises. That always made him suspicious. He huffed quietly and looked around them. Nothing but clouds surrounded their plateau, the peak of a mountain that jutted from them like a dagger through flesh. Wind whipped and whistled ceaselessly, but the suns seemed all the brighter and hotter for their closeness. Kasoria smiled as he felt some ember of recognition in the cold; memories of freezing Etzos nights, warmed by a fire and a book...

Convincing. But not truth. This is still all in his head.

"How'jeh do all this?" He said finally, blurting out his words with typical Oh'Pee verbal brutality when Zarik had finished speaking. "Makin' all this... all yer dreams, lie what yeh want 'em t'be. Only y'don't have to use yer hands. Well... 'cept by snappin' yer fingers."

Kasoria remembered when he'd returned to his own Dreamscape, after that weird and terrible period had passed. No dreams, no walking, no learning. Just a void that his mind was trapped in while his body rested. Darkness for six or eight or ten hours, and then the waking world greeted him again. Until he could come back to the Veil, and resume his travels... and found the home of his Dreamscape in ruins.

"I... When I went back t'me 'scape," he said finally, hesitantly, as if in confession. "It was... bollixed. It was Etzos, but it was torn t'shite. Like... Like it'd been through a siege."

A hollow, hunted look crept into his gaze for a moment. Not just the sorrow of memory, but the fear of suspicion. That what he'd seen had not just been the worries of a sleeping mind, the long fears of his personality, born and raised in Etzos. Not even the damage wrought by whatever catastrophe that had robbed teeming millions of their dreams, for he'd wager there would always be consequences when such a thing was done. No. This felt more like... prophecy.

Then he killed it, before it could spread into the rest of his features. His eyes turned back to stone and flickered to his... the man who'd initiated him. He pointed briefly at Zarik.

"How'jeh do it? An' how can I?"

[Sybil Malach]

II

A strange medium which connected beings. This place was something that made sense, in quite an abstract way, to the dreamer. But in the end, it was like attempting to force order upon chaos. One must embrace the fact that the unseen machinations must remain as such, unseen, versus in the waking world. Their mind churned, digesting the information, rather than trying to make sense of it. To Sybil, that was a fruitless effort that brought more confusion than it did sense. Their mind opened, attempting to take in the sensory overload, embracing it, rather than apply outside logic to this place. While they were ignorant, the dreamer was still trying to gather as much understanding as possible from the sensations that were present.

The gaping hole in the sky became irrelevant. Its meaning was something not to consider. The flames, likewise, became an object of consideration only in the most basic of terms. Sometimes the most logical approach to chaos is simply to accept it, and keep moving. Rudimentary physics weren't discovered in a mere day. The nature of the suns and moons were always subject to study. Getting hung up on the minor details of the world was pointless, and should be avoided at all costs until a baseline understanding was gained.

Glancing to the side, towards Llyr, as he explains the dangers of this place, their brows raise. It was foolish to assume that one was always the biggest fish wherever they went. But there was a staggering implication there that Sybil had to forced down as far as humanly possible rather than ask. If monsters, no, creatures, lurked within the very connective fibers between minds, from what unholy womb were they birthed? Were they a creation of the men and women participating in the dreams? Did it even matter that there were any dreamers at all, and it was simply a matter of this place creating such things on its own? Is it trying to remove all outside influence, like some sort of body that was fending off a disease? Could more than just dreamers be killed by it?

So many questions. But thankfully, the fortitude of the dreamer's mind deftly evaded such hangups. They passed through their mind, and simply found their way into the wastebin of thoughts. There were endless things to consider. The fact that their account of this place conflicted with Kasoria's alone would send misfiring signals across their brain. This place, in all intents and purposes, was a confusing slurry of concepts that they had never considered practical. But now... Impracticality seemed to be the glass flooring, rather than ceiling.

Wordlessly, they step between dreams. Following behind Kasoria, most of their confusion and questions are retained within.

And... They ended up somewhere entirely different.

Staring down at their hands, their mind slowly registered the senses that followed. The dreamscape was real. Eyes easing, brow lowering, it was hard to tell the difference between dreaming or waking air. Grass was visible, that much was strange, alien to Sybil. Yet... This was unbelievably natural. This was something that couldn't be discerned from the real world. Counterfeit wasn't the right word. Facsimile wasn't, either. If Sybil was born here, they wouldn't be able to discern the change at all if they slipped through the cracks into the real world.

This was... Something else.

Eyes flitting up to Llyr as he asked his question, their gaze shifts over to the side, towards Kasoria. Allowing the man to act and ask first, they deferred to the more experienced apprentice. Something about this place felt so... Natural, to some unsung membrane within their skull. This felt like a trick question. Hopelessly familiar, yet so foreign, "I'd like to learn of the connections of this place. The doors. To find others, like how they found me first."

Bare feet resting against the grass, the control of their own body was estranged. Articles of clothing seemed to fizzle and shred between one another, as though some ethereal shedding of flesh or fur. Most of it covered the more vulnerable areas, but it was clear that despite their efforts to adapt mentally, there was still a very clear level of confusion.

Yet... Their eyes shot over to Kasoria. "Eztos? But that's... So far away. Have we... Stepped to the side? How can such distance be closed?"

[Llyr Llywelyn]

Illumination from the twin suns grew brighter, infused the dreamscape with gentle warmth, and summoned a sheen of dust motes that weaved like mist around their ankles. While the dreamlord listened to his first initiate, the mist gathered from the expanse of the mountain’s edges to thicken between the three dreamerwalkers.

The biqaj placed his hands behind him, rested near his lower back, with his posture so rigid that he seemed all the taller for it. His ice-blue eyes, aglow with the light of emotion, flicked over both figures - as if keeping tabs on them, as if making sure neither Sybil nor Kasoria wandered off while he looked at the other. Without movement or gesture or otherwise, the quality of his attire changed. The very light that streamed down from the sky rid his expensive fabrics of darkness and shadow until his noble outfit looked cut and tailored from raw starlight.

“The snap of my fingers is not required,” he interjected to clarify for Kasoria. “However, I find a certain degree of theatrics aids in the process of connecting the mind to desire. The first time I discovered I could meaningfully impact my dreams, to great results, was due to a snap of my fingers.”

He glanced at Sybil, then returned his attention to Kasoria when he heard mention of the Etzori’s dreamscape and how it’d been during Ymiden. During the dark season when the young mage had been unable to dream at all, let alone govern within his mind. A slight reaction showed in twitched creases around his shapely elfin eyes as they narrowed and his dark brows lowered. The ice-blue glow faded, dulled to gray. The suns above flickered and the hue of their light shifted from golden to silver tint.

Kasoria pointed at him, briefly, and Zarik maintained his frown. A simple expression of attentive thought. The blue returned to the biqaj’s eyes. The gold returned to the suns. He tilted his head to look up at the sky. He sucked his teeth, then clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in a quiet noise. Zarik understood that the Etzori had returned to dreams long before they’d reached Etzos with the siege, even before they’d arrived to Westguard proper.

The blond returned his gaze to his first initiate and said, “I will teach you. Before I do…”

“Sybil. You have been quiet. I am aware I ask much of you in short time, do not strain yourself too greatly if you feel overwhelmed.” He suggested, then listened as the student replied with what they wished to learn.

A small smile flickered on the corner of his lips. He nodded slowly at the expressed desires to travel and learn of the connections… and then the distraction occurred. The thought of Etzos, and how far it was from Viden.

“Stepped to the side?” he repeated the phrase, interested in it. Warmth glinted through the blue of his eyes, a momentary amber that faded in the next moment. He waved a hand as if in dismissal of this, however, and said, “Etzos, Viden, yes, both far from each other. You will often find that you keep near dreamers that remain close to you, but if you dedicate yourself to intense and great travel between doors, all of Idalos appears to be within reach. That is, all of which has dreamers.”

“It took me many dreams to find you, Sybil, and I suspect it is only because I followed another walker to that… space where you reside.” His gossamer wings outstretched, fluttered, then folded again. “Though such things can only be traced in retrospect rather than planned for.”

He held a fist over his mouth, as if he’d grown nauseous, though he only cleared his throat. His eyelashes fluttered much like his wings had, dusted with white tint. For all their time in his dreamscape, it appeared that color gradually abandoned the biqaj. His blond hair had paled even more, his silver-tinted skin had faded as if blasted with pure white snow, and the light of his outfit had softened but no longer bore any color. All except his eyes, which by contrast, burned with vivid blue.

“So, Karim, the fact is you already know how to do it,” he said. “I taught you the first time we met, with…”

Zarik outstretched his arm, held up his fist, then unfurled his longer fingers to revealed a silver tinder box in the center of his palm. He tossed it over for Kasoria to catch. “How you conjure forth your hat, that is the basis from which all else follows. A connection of mind and of will, of desire and manifestation. Thought shaped into action with little else.”

“While you need not know why this occurs to make it work, it is my belief that it is ether which accomplishes it,” he said in a lecture-tone. His hand had already gone back to rest behind him in the formal posture. “The dreamscapes within Emea are flooded in ether. It is… both glorious and dangerous and I believe that it is this which makes the ability for such thought, drawn from memories in the waking world, into substantially perceived constructs.”

“Karim, such a thing should come easily to you once you learn of yourself more within the dreaming world. Continue to think of how you summon your hat, then apply that to all around you. It helps to experience the waking world in new ways as well, to go through the senses and immerse yourself in them, though there will be little perceivable effect as will inevitably occur here. This draws greater awareness to your surroundings here. I possibly could help with this, if you’d like, in person. If we… get the chance...”

The biqaj hesitated. He knew where the other man was. They weren’t far from each other, though opposite in direction… not that Kasoria was aware. Zarik knew the Raggedy Man had joined the march with the eastern host, but he doubted the man was aware that he flitted in and out from the western companion of the Etzori forces. Zarik preferred and wanted the older man to believe him to still be within the city, proper.

He turned his attention to Sybil then, who seemed to struggle with their own form and clothing still. Zarik glanced over the slender limbs, so vulnerable and devoid of muscle compared to himself or the Etzori assassin. Truly, a student then. One who lived a life of austere comfort, perhaps. He couldn’t help but watch the articles of clothing shed and a slight approving smile hinted on the corner of his lips.

“As for the connections. The doors… that is… it is a simple thing in the Veil from which we came,” he raised a hand and the mist that hovered around their ankles gathered in front of him. It rose and grew dense, an appearance of desert sand forced into a swirled petite cyclone that he controlled with his palm. “A door in the Veil is a simple thing you go through, obvious to see, easy to touch or walk past or open. It is the doors you cannot see which are the connections that come with the greatest opportunity, and danger. Such doors are the ones that brought me to you both.”

“While I cannot recommend it due to this danger, if you wish to find others… you will not find yourself lacking in this. You can find many, many minds to little importance though. As I already explained, you cannot identify a mind as one from the waking world you wish to find however. Not without great travel and patience to do so, perhaps. I have yet to…” he hesitated, and moved his hand along, the cyclone trailed after each motion as if it were leashed to him. “Yet to discover a way to accomplish this myself without a… kiss.”

“That said,” he spoke sharply with a louder voice to gather any waning attention. “Let us practice in this sanctuary where you might make mistakes without great threat.”

The biqaj swiftly raised his hand vertically upward. The cyclone of dust rose in a column, a rush of mist that glittered in the light. It soon blocked out the suns. A dense layer of sand blanketed the sky, expanded in a dome above them. Zarik's wings moved in quick upward flight. He levitated with the ease of his dreamscape. His silvery voice resounded in echoes, “Find each other or find the door to the Veil. Ideally, both. Try to not get too lost.”

In the next trill, he vanished from sight.

The mountain was gone. The clouds were gone. The sky was gone. All that remained was a cyclone of sand in all directions that churned in granular beige. For about a bit, Sybil and Kasoria remained, side by side, with each other… and then, the sand rushed like a tsunami that separated them from one another.

Once the sand settled, both initiates found themselves alone in very different places - still within the etherist’s dreamscape - but without another living soul in sight.

OOC

You can choose the setting of your character, but you can also choose one of these relevant settings for Llyr's dreamscape:
- Galleon ship
- Southern jungle
- Windowless torture room with a door locked from the outside
- A never-ending alley in bloodlight (red lights at night)
- A beach shore at night.

[Kasoria]

He had many questions, but no time to ask them, or hear the answers. Truth be told, he had enough to chew on without adding more branches to the tree. The world around him was clearly not one that cared for the trivial laws of the waking. There, things were ordered and nailed down according to laws ineffable and inscrutable had set down for all races, all men. Here... well, Kasoria could understand that much of what Zarik had said. This place was soaked in ether. Formed of it. Dependent on it. Only surviving because it was removed from mere physical laws, and could subsist on the vast, gestalt energies of countless dreaming beings.

Goes both ways, though. It needs us to form it. So we can choose the form.

He almost didn't notice the nobleman rise up like some deity's messenger, so wrapped in his own thoughts was he. The tinder box was cold and hard in his hand. He looked up just as Zarik finished talking. Opened his mouth to speak and-

"Pfftfuck me!"

-got a fistful of sand in it, instead. He staggered, shook his head and looked to his side. His eyes locked with Sybil for a moment, and he saw an ounce of fear behind her wonderment. Lost, buried instinct drew his hand up to reach for her. He never made it. Never even saw if she would do the same. A wall of sand rose between them like a wave and knocked them both back. What he was even standing on was a mystery to him. He screwed shut his eyes and felt the grit grind into his skin until his heart was in his ears and then-

It stopped. The walls came down. The sand crashed down to cobblestones and then faded until-

Wait. Cobblestones?

Indeed they were, and not just any sort. Kasoria's feet knew where he was before his mind did. His stance shifted unconsciously into the easy slouch he'd adopted so often when he was-

"Home."

It looked like Etzos. Felt like it, too. The street was narrow, lit hellish and blazing, true, but he knew these stones. He ran his hand along one wall as he took a few steps. Even the texture felt the same. He chuckled and shook his head again, this time in wonder. Every detail was the same. Right down to the graffiti on the walls, getting more legible and creative the higher up it got from the ground. Kasoria kept walking, and his smile faltered. There were no alleys or roads or even doorways. He couldn't think of a street in Etzos that went for this long without any of those. Not above ground, anyway.

This isn't home. It's what it is to you.

Kasoria frowned. Fates, that didn't even sound like his own mind. But then again, this wasn't technically his dream. He kept walking. Letting his eyes flicker over the walls and torches and stones. The tinder box rolled over in his grasp, time and again, a tiny bastion of permanence in this place of endless change. Then he stopped. Something... someone... he was sure he heard them. A woman, was it? He walked back a few steps and heard it again. From great distance or through a thick wall. Which made sense, considering that's what he was looking at.

Could be the girl. Could be a memory. Could be nothing.

"Either way," he grumbled, "I'm tired a' not havin' a door t'walk through."

He thought of his hat. Not what it was, or how it was perched on his head. How he'd conjured it, in another dream. He'd closed his eyes and thought of it. Imagined every detail, the feel and smell and grooves and flaws, and there it was. Between his fingers. The tinderbox was much the same. Now he pressed one callused hand to the wall... and he closed his eyes again. He thought of the bricks spinning apart, mortar crumbling to dust and then to nothing at all. Stone rectangles grinding, shifting, sliding, making way at first and then making a whole new aperture. Someone was on the other side. He wanted to find out what.

If he lets you, he reminded himself. Remember. This ain't your mind.

[Sybil Malach]

III

Ether.

The term was familiar to Sybil. It was a word that they had learned through a book about alchemy. It was something to do with magic, wasn't it? Their mind blanked on the contents of the book itself. It was written in cursive, and at that point, Sybil had just gotten through learning the basics of the writing style. While they couldn't read anything that was chicken scratch or anything outside of the Vidense dialect of the style, they liked to think that they got better. At least a little bit. Eyes glancing to the side, however, they thought about the implication. Ether had to do with either magic, or scientific alchemy.

A kiss? Finding things?

By the time that the dreamscape, Sybil was left with a distinct implication on the surface of their mind. They glanced down at their body for a moment. They'd been kissed by Mr. Magpie. They were under the assumption that it was just to let them remain lucid, rather than some strange way of travel or detection. Eyebrows furrowed, they couldn't help but feel out of the loop. The name, 'Mr. Magpie' was something that was more of an alias than something he was comfortable with, that much they were certain of. But what was the purpose of this place? Their eyes slowly blinked, turning their gaze towards Karim.

There was something similar in his tone, as well. Was Sybil the only one that didn't have a pseudonym? The thought stirred against their brain's stem. Something about the thought was brazenly off. If this was something that was intended to be a sort of... Meeting between like minds, then why was it that they hid their identities from the ones that they chose? Did the two even know that they were exchanging lies as names? This, specifically, was odd to the Videnese student. The Videnese took pride in their names and identities, some instances even making it social suicide to even practice doing to others.

These had to be foreigners.

The sand engulfed their vision.


A square room. Approximately thirteen feet in every direction. The smell of blood hangs in the air. There was a drain at the center of the room, something to allow whatever fluids to travel through it like some sort of sluice. Instruments were laid upon a thin table to the side of the room. A chair was in the center, with sturdy metal straps. The only light in this room was coming from a dying lantern; never giving off enough light to get a good glimpse of one's surroundings. A large iron wrought door stands erected at the exit to the room, any hopes of seeing outside are dashed, though, with not even a slit to see through.

Sybil stood near the chair. Though the leather straps were laced onto it, they were very much not strapped down in the slightest. Their eyes slowly traveled across the stone room. Something about this place was strange, something that coated their senses with a vague confusion that they could not describe. So for just a moment, they stood, just trying to make sense of it all. While it was clear that they were trapped, it was something they had to clear in their mind for a bit. Eyes glancing, as they folded their hands against their exposed stomach... What was going on here?

[Llyr Llywelyn]

Above the dream’s space, the biqaj settled to observe his initiates. In the Veil, he was limited by boundaries - uniquely perceived, but boundaries all the same. In other dreamscapes, he could only influence so much, often dependent on the dreamer’s mind.

Here, the dream was his own.

A labyrinthine creation devised between his mind and soul.

Splitting the initiates into separate spheres proved simpler than he would’ve guessed.

Neither Etzori nor Videnese noticed the shimmer over their respective sky or ceiling.

Cloaked in layers of ethereal stealth, Zarik lounged on the flat layer above the two. Head rested on one hand, he watched with vague interest. How interesting, what the other two aligned with - in regard to his mind - the imagery utilized from his memories. He traced his fingertips over the one-way transparent floor. Ether rippled from his touch like water.

From the ceiling above Sybil, droplets fell. A simple shower of watery crimson, barely enough to make a puddle but only a gentle mist that cooled the room and made the air fresh. Otherwise, the atmosphere might feel too suffocating for the initiate. He knew, as it was his dream-woven memories, how thick the space could get until breath seemed nearly impossible. Rather than allow for it, he made it so that Sybil would have some time to adjust and learn of the space they were in.

Kasoria was another matter.

The other initiate had advantages that Sybil did not. He was a mage. He knew Zarik better, though he’d never been in the biqaj’s dreamscape. Proper laws didn’t exist, not like in the waking world. Zarik wasn’t sure if the older man fully realized this, in an applicable way. It seemed as if he kept seeking recognizable things to follow. Zarik sat up and watched as the Etzori continued through that familiar narrow alley.

Here in the dreamscape, such a path would never end. A corridor of bloodlit cobblestone for infinity.

Through his cloaked witness, he heard the faint words spoken: Home.

The pale blond shook his head.

Already confused, are you?

Already applying his own thoughts to help understanding, Kasoria searched for recognition through touch and sight. Graffiti appeared onto the walls, and the biqaj’s eyebrows rose at this. Zarik moved his lips, mouthed words though he didn’t place vocalization behind it.

This isn’t home. It’s what it is to you.

Time operated differently in Kasoria's separated chamber of dreamscape compared to Sybil’s. From his panoramic vantage point, Zarik could observe that they had diverged in speed of perception and existence.

Twenty steps of Kasoria’s walk down the corridor corresponded to a single blink of Sybil’s eyes.

He stood, watching past his feet when Kasoria stopped and stared at one of the two walls. Why had he stopped?

Either way. I’m tired a’ not havin’ a door t’walk through.

Kasoria set a hand against the wall.

Zarik slid his fingers over the center of his forehead. The etherist focused inward. He split himself into three forms: His natural-born self which remained in the heavenly space above the separated dream-chambers; his totemic form of his sister, Tyara; and a simple cat form.

. . .

The wall gave way from Kasoria’s touch, an iron gate appeared and then corroded into rust while the brick-stones ground to the side and made room that was exactly the dimensions for a man such as Kasoria.

Zarik wanted to applaud the act of will on Kasoria’s part. For he’d conjured a door on his own, by allowance of certain liberties so the initiate could impact the space created for him. But it still sourced from the biqaj's mind, and he couldn’t control every detail. It was simply more efficient to allow automatic responses, as well as it offered reasonable practice comparably. Though other dreamer minds were far more chaotic, sensitive, and easily influenced.

As the cat lowered from the sky, still cloaked from detection, and neatly landed on four paws to follow after Kasoria, Zarik wasn’t sure where the man had made a door to. It wasn’t to Sybil, for the Videnese was in the opposite direction in the twisted ethereal map.

Through the rusted gate, it led into a library. Zarik immediately recognized the interior. A study hall with more books than shelves or tables to store them. In the center, a tall biqaj woman appeared to be talking though her voice went in and out from being audible.

Lucretia? How had Kasoria found her? Why? She looked almost nothing like the totemic form he borrowed from the mage. This was Lucretia as she was in Quacia, mutated beyond recognition by ether: Frighteningly tall, deathly pale of skin with blackened veins, gloves of obsidian stone, and shadows that followed her in ways that made no sense.

She looked at the Etzori with her glowing blue eyes, then thinly smiled with her black-flesh lips. Her posh Rynmerian accent, however, sounded near-identical to Llyr's totemic form from those early trials when he'd first transformed into the woman... the woman when she'd been a petite adventurer, before she'd gained her sparks.

“I didn’t think you’d return. You brought a friend.”

In the simple comment, the cloak dissipated. White of fur and scrawny of limbs, feline Zarik would’ve frowned if a cat could do so. He leapt onto the nearest stack of books, eyes shifting colors, and glanced between his initiate and the dream-generated avatar of his mentor.

“We will pick up where we left off,” informed Lucretia in a formal tone. “The efficacy of ether is dependent on our technical understanding in regard to the measurement of our personal reserves and at what limits do we find oversteps, whether these can be pressed outward just as one can press the flexibility of their limbs or muscles. Is there any difference between the physical form and the magical body? It is in Maestro Laitru’s fifth volume of secret journals compiled from those mages within the ruins of Quacia before the cataclysm that teaches us the magical body operates in many parallels to what we understand of the physical. It is that which-”

And she continued and continued, not stopping for even a breath, as the woman lectured about magical theories.

Zarik lifted a paw and licked at the fur. He bit at a claw, a tad nervously like he might a thumbnail when in human form, then spoke over his mentor in his familiar and natural voice with his southern accent. Though a cat, his mouth moved to form his words, “You made a door, Kas, but not the type that brings you to the Veil. It is common when trying to force a door that you end up either in a different section of the dream or in another dreamer’s mind, but rarely can you find your way to the Veil through such a method.”

. . .

Meanwhile, in the windowless torture room where Sybil resided, Zarik lowered into the space with the form of his sister Tyara. She remained cloaked, until she was seated in the torture chair. The cloak faded and she appeared to Sybil’s perception. She lounged over the side of the iron chair, a crooked grin on her lips.

Tyara smiled, and she inclined her head to one side. Garbed in a white tunic robe, skirt short in Ne’haer fashion, the thin biqaj woman moved to settle her feet lightly on the arm of the chair. She leaned over the other side, then lifted one foot to point at Sybil with her toe. One of her toes was missing.

The blonde suggested in a light-hearted tone, “You could start by giving yourself some more clothes to wear. Simple thing to accomplish. As easy as going to yourself: My, I’m cold and would like to be covered from this chill. A gesture of the hand might help you though.”

She lifted from the chair with a sudden burst of energy. Tyara jumped out of the seat, landed on her feet beside Sybil, then walked around the Videnese with a look of curiosity. Her hand touched Sybil's bare midriff and traced around the shape as she circled the student.

Her grin grew wider and revealed lightly yellowed teeth. A few molars were missing, the spaces dark and obvious in the expression. “Sybil, Malach... Which do you prefer, your family name or your given name?”

“Want to play a game? Make a bet?” asked Tyara who moved her touches to lightly pull at Sybil's hair. She twisted the strands around her fingers as if playing with yarn. “Cards? Dice? Drinking? I can drink anyone under the table, yessir. Try me.”