[nightmare] If It Meant Anything

Dionysia relives her most forward memory.

22nd of Saun 716

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Dionysia
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[nightmare] If It Meant Anything

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22nd Trial of Saun, Arc 716
The sound of the crackling fire kept her attention to the flames that licked up the charred bark, twisting in an intimate dance of orange and red. She stared long, caught in a trance that seem too foggy to really move from but, nonetheless, she remained ever so fixed to it. Leather gloved hands laid atop each other, the fingers decorated in the metal that defined her culture, her status. She was a lady, for all intents and purposes, but Dionysia rarely cared to act like one.

Blinking, she looked down at her gloves. She never had to worry about these things growing up. About keeping covered and pushing distance but something was amid with Dia and she felt it in her very soul that things were different. She was different. Though her mother kept trying to discard her troubles, she had a strike of intuition that pushed some unknown truth. Did her mother know something that Dia did not?

Laying next to the fire, Dia turned her eyes back to the flames and settled down for the night. She would reach Lysoria in a matter of days, sent by Lord Lokhert of Ironridge with gifts for the residing Lady. A festival was to be held in Lysoria, one that Dionysia had to attend on the Lord's behalf... Dia wasn't a fan of parties but if her childhood taught her one thing, it was that drunk politics meant open information. That's what she was to collect.

Her eyes fluttered as her body relaxed... The shadow black hands of sleep beckoning her mind into a place far off from the soothing warmth of the fire. Her thoughts muttered aimlessly in the background and for a moment, she felt the leather slide off her hands.


The woods were her home, a place she loved to explore. Dia wasn't concerned about its dangers. She was fearless, unbreakable, wild. Her very nature was to conquer the unknown and devastate it to her whim. She would make the mountains bow.

Her legs propelled her over a fallen tree trunk as she ran. There was no path but all she had to do was follow the flowers. Easy enough, right? They were always there, in the same bunches decorated against the trees and shrubs. Her breath kicked, heart racing. Did she need to run home? Was it dark now?

The afternoon sky suddenly darkened, night encasing her.

She needed to run. Run!

Warmth spread up her body as her heart raced faster just before she felt fingertips graze past the skin of her shoulders.

Run! RUN!

Her foot snagged on a tree root and she slammed into the ground.


Body jerking harshly, Dia sat up and grabbed at her chest, heart racing. She looked around the darkness, the fire having turned to embers while she heard the horse scuffle around a few meters away. Looking still, Dionysia listened to the sounds on the wind before laying back against the ground. Her eyes stared into the tree tops that she could vaguely see due to the light of the moon. Then slowly, very slowly, she fell asleep.


A twelve year old blonde child ran through the thick brush of Falcon Haven Forest, wandering like a leaf on the wind. Off in the distance was a noise, several actually, and though she knew what awaited her, Dia continued forward.

Each step amplified her sense of fear yet she faced it, and while she stood strong against the expected terror, fire bloomed from her hands and up her arms before she realized she carried a torch. She was going to burn them all alive.

Her eyes turned from the torches in her hands to the ground around her and noticed moving shadows sliding from half buried bones to the next set. They stuck up from the earth, as if they were slowly being swallowed... Then she turned to the camp in front of her.

White tigers stacked in piles, their bodies bleeding out while the furs were stripped one after the other. Blood caked nearly every inch of the place from the caravan to the tables and cages while the meat from the animals rotted off near the edge of the camp. Flies were already infesting the scrape muscle, tissue, and fat.

It was so horrifying, she could have vomited but instead, she just stood there watching with wide eyes.
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[nightmare] If It Meant Anything

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Only You Are The Life Among The Dead
Faith was in a nightmare. It was confused and it was confusing and she did not know quite where she was or where to turn. As the beautiful music from the dance (what dance, she wondered) played, she spinned and stopped. Here she was. In the graveyard where she was dead. And there, standing at her grave was Jamal, her previous owner. Faith frowned and wondered two things simultaneously. Why was Jamal there and why was she wearing this beautiful dress and this mask? In his hands, Jamal held a jar. It had a screw-top lid and in it was a small nugget of... something. What was that? She leaned forward as Jamal knelt next to her grave and whispered with a smile. "It's your soul, little Dove. She comes now, and her lantern will not take you. I have your soul"
she screamed
But no sound came out
"There is no rest for you, little Dove. No rest at all. Dead but not, yet no longer living. An abomination to Famula and all that She stands for. And you wonder why?" he stood and looked at her, direct gaze meeting hers "Because your service was just a mask, little Dove. Just a mask. You do not serve, you gain pleasure. You should not feel. So it's just a mask and She will not see you, will not recognise you" Faith pulled at the mask but it would not come off.
This was her nightmare
Soul-less
Faceless
Unable to rest in the arms of her beloved Famula.

She had become nothing
But no. She would not accept that. She would go and find a way to reunite her soul with her body, to search so that she could serve Famula. She would be alive so that she might die with a soul. She would not stop, would not until she had done what she needed to do. Because she had to, she could not be without this any more. And so, her blood pounding in her ears, Faith turned from this place of darkness and death and despair, where Famula would walk over her grave and not even know that her faithful servant lay there.

She ran through the woods, the graves marked in clearings and the howling of wolves in the distance. The bones of the dead stuck out of the earth and she saw the dark shadows of Famula's touch twisting around them like a gentle lover's embrace. She yearned for that touch, for Famula to know that she had served with everything she had. And as she ran, in the distance she saw the flickering of a torch. Maybe someone there could help her to find her soul. She had to have it, she had to not be dead so that she could take off the mask and Famula would recognise her. Faith firmly believed that, even though Jamal had taken her soul, if she could but take off the mask, it would be alright because Famula saw truth.

So, she kicked off her high heel shoes (where and why, she wondered) and she lifted her beautiful black ballgown, smattered with sequins, tight at the waist and flattering in the extreme, and she ran through the mud and the brambles. Branches whipped at her face and others tore at her dress but she was unmindful as she ran to the torchlight.

Which turned out to be held by a young girl. She was looking into a clearing that Faith could not yet see and she skidded to a halt in front of her and tilted her head to the side. The woman who spoke was dressed beautifully, the dress not torn or even marked, which would have been impossible in the waking world and the top half of her face was covered by a beautiful sequined black mask. Her hair was piled in an intricate design and she looked at the girl with silver grey eyes which were filled with fear.

"Who are you?" she asked. Her voice was soft and low "Will you help me? I need to find my soul" and as she asked she sniffed the air, slightly.

"I smell death. Fresh death" she said, with a frown.
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Life, Death and the In-Between .
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Dionysia
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[nightmare] If It Meant Anything

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22nd Trial of Saun, Arc 716
Dia was hardly alone for a moment when she noticed a beautiful woman appear out of the brush and she wondered for a moment if it was her mother come to find her. But upon closer inspection, the woman was a dark, mysterious beauty. Radiant in her own way, though not like the sun. Not like her mother. Was she then a guardian of vengeance come to wreck havoc on the smugglers?

“Death..?” The little girl asked as if it was the first time she had heard the word, then her eyes turned back to the scene in the clearing as a brawny man swung a cleaver right through the leg of one of the dead tigers on the table. “Oh yes, they're all dead. Look.” Her voice had changed from youthful adolescence to the mature, feminine tone she carried as a woman. Dia now stood as the woman she was, her hair longer, body taller with the curves of a woman, torches in hand.

Beyond the trees they hid behind, Dia tossed the torches into the grass and watched as fire exploded across the clearing without a moment's hesitation. There was fire everywhere, eating at flesh and bones and wood and metal; it was devouring everything.

“They probably took your soul but we'll get it back. You just can't let the burning man touch you or else you'll die too. He likes to leave marks.” When Dia turned to look at the woman, the clothes on her back were torn apart as blood gushed from the open wound that ran from her left shoulder to right hip. “He doesn't like it when you hide. He'll lock you in the dark and throw away the key.”

Then a fiery hand reached out from the flames and began to drag her into the clearing as pain ripped across her features and a strangled cry escaped her lips. The burning man dragged her over the fire and dumped her into the burning pile of tiger carcasses as she herself began to burn.
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[nightmare] If It Meant Anything

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The girl turned and spoke to her and Faith felt a chill up and down her spine. But then the girl wasn't a girl, she realised, she was a woman. Beautiful and sophisticated-looking, with an expression that was entirely adult. She threw the torches and then warned Faith about the Burning Man and Faith nodded. "I think I see him as Jamal. He was my owner. He burnt me and he took my soul" she explained, lifting one beautifully manicured hand (which really wasn't what she had in the waking) and pointing to Dia's back.

"You're bleeding. Will you let me help you?" she asked. She wouldn't touch the woman unless she gave her permission, but if she did, Faith would certainly try and help. With bandages and salves which she had with her, suddenly, in the dreaming. "This is bad... there's blood everywhere.... how did this happen?" she wondered.

And then, a hand came out of the flame, grabbing the woman who had just been a girl and to Faith's dreaming mind it was an older man's hand under the flames, and one that she knew well. It was Jamal's hand, his hand reaching out and the woman in front of her got pulled, dragged forward into the flames. Now, Faith was many things in the waking world and to some people she seemed meek (she often was) but she had a very specific reaction to fear. She sprinted towards the fire and grabbed at the woman, trying to pull her, pull her from the flames and as she did that Faith shouted "Famula, save you. It will be well, Famula! She will protect your soul, She will!" Faith was a deeply religious woman and what this Burning Man/ Jamal was doing she simply could not put up with so she ran, praying to Famula, begging Her to help in this most awful of situations and she started pulling at the woman, trying to get her out.

And it would have been so much easier if she wasn't in a ball gown and high heels. As she pulled and she tugged and she prayed with all her heart, Faith realised that snow was falling. Jamal had hold of the woman and was burning her soul out of her and she was tangled up in it. But, unmindful of her own flesh burning (it had happened four times now after all) she jumped and she tried her damndest to get the woman out of the pyre and roll and roll and roll on the floor, putting out the fires.

Why was it snowing? She thought, wildly.
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Life, Death and the In-Between .
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Dionysia
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[nightmare] If It Meant Anything

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Dia thrashed lightly, groaning in the waking world as her form curled around the light blanket she laid under in the heat of the Saun night.Perspiration beaded upon her brow which was later brushed away by the feathered pillow she buried her face into, as if trying to hide from her mind’s own creations.

In the dream, she screamed as she was enveloped in flame and torment. Her flesh peeled and bubbled, seering away from her body in the heat of the pyre she lay within. Dionysia knew the memory was not this horrendous, but the fear… that’s what amplified the pain to excruciating limits. She was so afraid… She didn’t want to die and right now, with the tug at her arm, maybe Dia wouldn’t. Lifting her head past the agony of yellow and orange, her eyes laid upon the girl from before and, with as much strength as she could muster, Dia thrashed from the fire and the burning man. Little strength was left in her as she crawled from the pit and felt herself being rolled in the dirt and mud. It hurt, by the Gods did it hurt, but the flames licking her flesh were quickly put out with a sigh of relief on her breath.

It was then Dia noticed the snow. Her cloudy eyes looked up towards the white haze of the sky just as a blanket of snow began to fall onto the burning piles of carcasses and wood. It wasn’t even cold, just a bright light that filled her with hope. She’d be saved from the terrible clutches of the burning man and the forest that was now aflame with undying rage. But the snow and the light and the woman, they’d take care of that.

“Praise Famula.” Dia spoke weakly just as her eyes opened in the waking world. She breathed in, her heart beating firmly against her chest as the woman sat up and brushed a hand through her hair.

What an odd dream...
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