A dream within a dream (Isaac)

[Guest]

The stars were seen before the road was felt and, looking down from the bright pattern, he matched his direction with the path at his feet. To run toward whatever shape appeared most distinctly or continue as he'd come would afford any number of discoveries. This assurance sweetened him. What gifts were these at his disposal, a ring of choices laid about, each set to its activity while he picked which one to greet? By the familiar shapes was inspired a warming security which at once placed him at ease to look around, to distinguish what he could from the unclear regions, and to abandon his guard and gaze straight up at the stars for Pan's Tear.

It would not matter if the constellations were alien altogether. Such freedom as this could grant him a vitality, a pervasive grace. It was a delightful compensation for ignorance.

I won't disturb him, Isaac thought, at seeing the figure absorbed in meditation.

Must've been gotten from strange lands. Some places far away. At a distance where people cease. And where nothing else lives but these freaks. Oh but what beauty to them. What beauty. Where could I be? It's nowhere unfriendly, not under these lights.

He imagined long ragged islands swept by waves, mist engulfing scattered isles, courageous nomads traversing the spaces, patches of seabed lit far below. Inside the waves and above them lived fiends.

I'm in a dream and I'll let my mind wander. If it doesn't return I'll not grieve. I'm spent, and I'll have nothing to return it to, no tasks of the living world. Why miss it? I've been blessed this passage. I've no doubt it could end bad. But it's so impossible, that's how it feels, that it end worse than I think I was last. Was that last? Where had I been put, in what way? But to all these I can go, all of them. Ah, the way my heart feels. It's no more real than any of this, than of me, and I walk before these at no risk. Oh Mother, what I may do here! And what it may be that I enter it like this!

He walked on towards the flaming wings.

[Syrawenn]

Upon passing flashes of images are shown at the end of smaller paths. Some are scenes out of everyday life. Others seem to hold more symbolical importance as strange forms and colours try to make a comprehensible whole. For a moment one of the dark-skinned people looks up as Isaac passes. He is aware of the other presence and nods.

The trail that holds the flames now shows it is in fact a gigantic bird, it's wings surrounded by fire as if he is calling it up himself. His shrewd eyes scrutinize this unknown being in front of him and without opening his beak, a soft voice is heard: "Who goes?"

The question is neutral, the voice even kind. Yet there is something in the eyes that does not fool Isaac. This creature is ready to do battle if need be.

Behind him another befuddled person makes his way over the path. It is a young boy, dressed elaborately as if coming straight from some foreign court. He looks around, as new to the road as Isaac is, but does not seem to notice the other man. He follows the moonlit path without seeing the arms that split off the main road.

ooc
I will be away for a couple of days I'll be back on saturday!

[Guest]

He returned the nod, slowing to do so, and took note of the civility which, in the midst of this unlawful decay, would still endure, as though nearer to permanence than most other things, or of more power than those shifting images at the ends of other paths. This indication of his own visibility checked the frivolous impulse that first had loomed in him. It was with caution that he lifted his eyes to the great bird, and it was with some reluctance that he'd answer its question and edge toward its flame.

He? He asked me?

Isaac knelt to one knee and looked through the fire, lifting his head as in honor toward it, grasping for words. It was a delight to trace the twists that the flames made through the air. The acadhiel's true awe mixed with the respect that his voice would emote. His eyes softened. To track the bright glow where it fell and was thrown was a rapturous task, mesmerizing work, the pleasure in watching it almost a sharp pain to him.

"I am Isaac," he said. "And, I've just come, and I knew myself to be lost. I came to ask, where this could be. I... mean no offense. It was by your light that I came once I'd arrived."

The boy passed by without seeing. Another! He's gone like he doesn't know a thing of this! But how is it that I do..?

[Syrawenn]

Isaac's humble demeanour seemed to please the mythological bird -for when had he ever seen such a creature in the wild? The flaming wings seemed to grow just a little extra, his chest expanded a tad bit more, his sharp eyes shone with pride.

"Isaac, who was lost. You are here now, wherever this is. It does not matter. It can be anywhere you want it to be. What have you come to find?"

The voice was still soft, somehow not fitting for the powerful creature in front of him. Yet despite the obvious superior feeling the bird emitted the atmosphere had changed from standing guard to curiosity. The air cracked with his flames, yet nothing akin to fire could be smelled.

Without the prompting that might have alerted him to Isaac's presence the young boy moved on, swiftly disappearing from sight, leaving the grown man alone again with his strange conversational partner.

[Guest]

Then mine are the better eyes, he realized, watching the child walk off until it was gone. Isaac would have shouted, sought to break somehow the barrier between them, in some manner to unblock the boy's senses; but he considered that the child, allowed this much of knowledge as to these whereabouts, may be at the end of his capabilities, and unable to perceive any more deeply without direct endangerment to his sanity.

I'm locked in a confessional. In fact the acadhiel could almost laugh. He was not yet accustomed, apparently. The adjustment, however swiftly he'd have guessed it would avail itself, was beyond him, and, left alone to his own few little facts, he could only think in circles, frustrated and amused, no notions but the old ones occuring. If it's not mine to know then how'd I come. But here, I've got to wait, till the same happy mistake. And I'm told I've got an answer, like I can do as I wish.

I'd stretch out as far as I could just to know what to do. As the creature said, was it his choice what this became? If so, than by what means but those which naturally were known to him, that now proved so useless? If he could, he'd count as items the organs of his till he found that secret one of worth here, and so estimate how best he utilize this environment, and waste no more time of his, nor of the bird's. Yet wasn't that pride? Was this creature flattered? Such a base emotion could be found in even this most extraordinary of beings?

"If I've come for anything, it would be for some peace," he said, and quickly added: "not everlasting. But to see what there is to see." Perhaps the swell of the flames was akin to a blush. They speak well. "Your... eminence makes me think you've more than a little expertise in this area," he suggested.

[Syrawenn]

The great bird seemed to grow a little bit more at Isaac's words, not directly commenting on his use of honourifics, yet certainly enjoying them. He tilted his head in a curiously cat-like manner and grinned. There was no other word for it. Despite the impossibility of a malleable beak it grinned.

"This area is not mine. It is made by those that walk, like yourself. Have you not passed your own guardian? Walk around if you will, but do not disturb other dreams...or enter here and find Alkor. Which shall it be?"

The name was so obviously capitalized that it was impossible to miss. Yet it was not entirely clear whether the mythical creature meant a person or a place. Meanwhile the moonlit road beckoned as well as many more brighter lights were to be seen on it's path. Again it was all up to Isaac, without anyone telling him what might be best.

The absence of any smells made the entire situation surreal, especially with the flames still licking the air. Besides their talk there were no other sounds audible either, as if everything was covered in a thick layer of snow. Yet the only whiteness was that of the moon.

[Guest]

"Well then," he said, "a guardian for me?"

Whichever way he went he'd first want a measure of guidance more than what'd been given him. He'd be less sure of the latter offer's safety until another sign was made clear; and while the bird's ability shone, quite literally, Isaac would not so easily accept it as proof of credibility as be moved to suspect that it was, unlike the voice, an intricate screen, even a disposable guise.

These other features -the grin, the lack of smell, and, chiefly, the voice- altered that quality of the bird's which otherwise could have won, without delay, the acadhiel's faith. True, theirs was no more rediculous a combination of elements than any other yet seen; but theirs, here at once all on display, and vividly so, marred his progress made toward their very acceptance, for they were arranged in an attitude of enjoyment at his praise. He felt like he'd seen his own low reflected; what refinement the flames held now was ruined. In one respect he could no longer regard the creature as superior to himself.

He paused in mid-stride, so to speak.

"I think I'd best find that guardian before going anywhere. But please, tell me your name. I'd not want to walk off without it."

[Syrawenn]

The great bird cocked his head to one side. "My name is not yours to learn. You did not make me."

With those few words he left Isaac alone, preening his feathers and observing the surroundings as if the man did not exist anymore. The moonlit path beckoned, stretching in two directions as far as the eye could see. Many more sidetracks showed themselves, each holding their own occupants, some of which were clearly just about as human as the firebird.

It was hard to tell from which direction Isaac had come. The bird had not said a word about where to find this supposed guardian, leaving the traveller to his own devices.

A soft melody as if played by windchimes came drifting by, touching Isaac for a moment before moving on. It changed upon caressing the man, falling from the high pitch of ice crystals to the deeper tones of a brook.

[Guest]

Isaac thought he could have spat and still not have aggravated much further this relation between himself and his first acquaintance.

Damn bird.

But he'd think only that single reproach. He wasn't sure this creature deserved it, fully, at least; it could simply be one of a number of aspects that defined its source, its own particular note magnified upon its filling this greater space allotted it. Should he meet its creator he'd be shown, so he thought, a treatment not so brisk, but perhaps tolerably balanced.

He walked off, not humbly, now redressing the role ideally to be fit, wondering whether he need act at all. These thoughts themselves held little weight against the reservation still evident behind his concentration; his material continuation, the stability that so far his position bore, was for the first time realized, and its disappearance he came suddenly to imagine. In contrast to these great many appearances around him, the ground, as yet, had alone been tested, by his walking upon it. His own body, too, was in attendance, so far as he could tell. Not beyond the simplest of reasoning, he figured that the conversation just held was as good a proof of its participants' existence, and he was taking his first steps back onto the path, intending to find another being of similar import to the bird's with whom to talk, when heard the glade.

I am a bit thirsty. He cupped his ear and stood still a moment before heading off in the direction he thought the sound came from.

OOC: Thanks for the kind words
- And, I'll try not to make too many posts like this one in the future

[Syrawenn]

ooc
LOL funny man

ic
Despite the vivid thoughts in his mind the majestic bird did not react to it. Either it was not versed in mindreading or it had no intention of being baited. While walking away the strange feeling of emptiness persisted, as if something was missing in the entire picture.

Upon thinking about the bird's creator a little firefly sparked up in the air in front of Isaac. Turning a few circles it disappeared again with a little *pop*. Now that his attention was turned to the path it became clear that his feet were not actually touching anything. Instead the strange, pale mist reflecting the moonlight seemed to be carrying him.

When his direction was chosen the sweet tones started a more structured tune, growing in volume as Isaac came nearer to another fork in the road. This time the path changed colour from silver to green and an unexpected breeze carried the scent of wet grass. There was something appealing in the entire setup, but it never forced his feet, letting him make his own decisions on where to go.

Standing on the main road a forest was visible on his right hand, the green path leading towards it. The trees in the distance resembled the ones he had fallen asleep under. It was a crazy thought, yet somehow it fitted with the image. This was the place where the tingling music came from, maybe even the place he came from.

[Guest]

He remained standing, not feeling able to handle the shock he'd surely take should a view through the mist reveal only emptiness. He averted his eyes from his feet and looked toward the green half of the fork in the path. From the smell he got that sense of the spot last occupied, of its air, and also of its rain, which, as it poured steadily into his dirty nest, had through the time being lulled him into disregard for all but his need to sleep.

But had I meant to sleep? Not so much that I...

Yet his fatigue, at last, had been so great as to suck him this far from out of his shell, and, by some accidental turn, his route had changed, this time ending... elsewhere. These trees' familiarity to his waking world culled the views last had before he'd slept, and that connection, which only hardened the more strongly he tested it, would lead backwards, surely as a cord of woven iron, though a breadth of darkness till then untried, into the light of the moon's, bent by so much rainfall, and back to his sleeping self, which, doubtless, lay unmoving still. So definite was this picture, and so absurd was its implication, that he shuddered with revulsion. Its subject filled, so it would seem, two spaces at once: there, in the forest, and here atop the mist.

Which, he asked himself, which am I?

His hands coiled together and he walked forth up the green path with an urgency in his stride, wringing his tightened fists.

[Syrawenn]

Every thought of his own sleeping self brought whifs of moist air and a kind, tingling sound of the drops on the waiting leaves. Following the green path further Isaac came to a part of this unreality that was achingly familiar. The trees were there, the rain, even the little cobweb that had sparkled in front of his eyes. Yet there was no trace of the sleeping figure he'd expected. Instead there was a dent in the unkept grass that betrayed someone had been sitting there not too long ago.

The rain was still falling in this part of his dream, yet it did not touch him. His feet securely on the misty path, Isaac was alone. There was no sign of the guardian the firebird spoke of, no trace of a higher power guiding him here. It was just him and the trees.

Opposite of this green fork a soft glow emenated from yet another little diversion from the main path. It had a sunny quality to it, yet dampened somewhat as if it shone through thick mist. A sweet voice was singing a children's rhyme over and over again.

Sleeper, dreamer, guard on top
Guardian wake and all will stop
Dreamer, dream and weave the land
We'll be safe as dolmen stand
Sleeper, sleep, do not awake
Or our souls are theirs to take
Guardian, dreamer, sleeper still
Please protect us if you will.

[Guest]

He cut short his panic with a whispered repetition of the poem's last verse. The preceding lines, heard over again, he absorbed less quickly, their utterance made in such contrast with the gloom as would muddle at first their hearing- yet their brunt, enhanced by so much sunny light, was soon received to no weak effect. His hands came apart and he turned to the sound- he was loosed from that state of gathered distress and now, at a comparative ease, no more dazed by the pleasure of his release than hindered by the recent tension's grip, he walked steadily on past the impression in the grass straight toward the singing voice.

Who'll take your souls? Guardian, dreamer, sleeper still. Is it me who's wrought this, who you'd call a sleeper, a dreamer? A guardian? What's at risk besides myself? To hear these lines you'd think it worse than it appears. And for souls no less, if in fact it's I who've woven this, who may yet spread it more out. I, who would would ruin a thing so precious as a soul. I don't wish harm to a thing here, no, not to a thing- but if I have stumbled, then, gods willing, let me fix the harm I've done- give me strength to save what I put into danger.

"Who are you?" he asked.

[Syrawenn]

Walking towards the rhyme did not make it louder. The volume stayed the same, it's cadance strangely fitting to something much more meaningful than a simple children's rhyme.

A girl was dancing around a treestump, dressed in a very light outfit that was almost translucent. It looked more like a nightdress than anything else. She was still singing when Isaac came into view, disturbing her circle.

"Sleeper, dreamer....oh!" She stopped and looked at the new arrival with big, dark eyes. Something was hidden in those eyes, something that reeked of pain and sadness, but it refused to come into the open. The girl surveyed Isaac, taking one step back. "Are you here to protect me?" Her innocent voice sounded. Brown hair fell over her shoulders, picked up by the same breeze that had brought the scent of greens to Isaac before.

[Guest]

Isaac felt a similar surprise to hers. He was half-inclined to turn around and face the other way, out of respect, and give her her decency- that urge was more his body's, however, and he caught it before he'd done any more than swivel slightly on his heels. He stared into her eyes, and there found the bad emotions which were not directed outward, necessarily, and which were something of a brooding sort, and he wondered what posed her trouble that she could sing and dance circles in the face of. She didn't appear injured physically. To what extent were her words literal?

"I'm not sure what I'm here for, if for anything someone else may be intending-" he said, not certain she cared, and after some hesitation, continued: "but I will help how I can, if there'd be anything wrong." And, now acknowledging to himself the sadness he saw, he said, "What troubles you?" He may not've been in the condition to fix anyone's problems -which he estimated to be outside his range of power so long as they were located here- yet his concern was growing beyond the influence of his doubts.

[Syrawenn]

Her pale face lit up at the words Isaac spoke. "So you are here to help me." She confirmed, a serious look in her eyes. "I'm glad you are. It's not nice being here."

She sat down on the treestump, planting her elbows on her knees and watching her visitor. "I am Nishi. Who are you? Do you like shadows, or do you fear them" The latter question was posed in the same tone as the first, making it sound utterly innocent. Yet it was obvious the girl was very curious as to what he would answer, leaning forward towards him, her eyes fixed on his.

Around them the scenery changed slightly, adding more trees and even a mountain in the background, it's looming shadow hanging over the treestump and the girl that sat on it. She shivered, but her gaze did not waver.

[Guest]

"I am Isaac."

It seemed a dim monotony to him, the woods and the cities, the good and the evil; he'd not distinguished his preference from amongst what he'd known, nor learnt within what taste he had for those available pleasures- the worst of pains, similarly, must also wait ahead, unfelt. As of yet he'd never had the occasion to decide, specifically, what shadows were to him- he'd never made such elementary discernments in the lengths he'd managed, inwardly, to probe, nor sustained a confrontation with so stark a difference between stimuli as that between shadow and light. He was that weak.

"Shadows are the same as everything else," he said. "I have no special liking for them."

He took off his robe and held it out for her, drawing a step closer. "You look cold," he suggested.

[Syrawenn]

She shivered again, gratefully reaching out for his robe. "Thank you." Nishi said as she wrapped it around her cold body. Indeed the air was not as warm as in the other places Isaac had visited in this strange dream. The girl nodded at his answer. "I don't like shadows. They come to take us away."

Suddenly she gave him a piercing look. "Did you come to take me away from here? Away from the shadows? Please tell me you did! Please?" Her voice took on a pleading tone.

Somewhere in the background thunder rolled. No lightning was to be seen, but the vibrations made the ground tremble. The girl cringed and started to sing again, rocking to and fro as if it could protect her from whatever it was she feared.

"Sleeper, dreamer, guard on top
Guardian wake and all will stop
Dreamer dream and weave the land..."

She did not get much further. A crash of thunder shook them both.

Isaac could just make out what Nishi screamed at the horrible noise: "Sleep! Do not awake!"

[Guest]

Jarred by the thunder, he looked up to the mountain and gritted his teeth, swore beneath the crash, and spread his legs wide for balance. Evidently her pleas were not very effective, or he'd have begun reciting the words himself.

"Eygads, what can quiet this racket?!" he yelled. His voice was quite urgent. He reached toward Nishi to take her hand. Turning around, he looked back for the main path.

Please shine still, he thought.

He stared above to where mountain-peak climbed, and clenched his other fist. "Damn it, go down! Quit your noise and rest!" At these last words he grinned- commands, when he issued them, were quite the joy. With a chilly thrill he cried, "Lay back and make a plain, you ugly brute!!" In fact his audacity seemed mounting as fast as the storm grew and the earth rose.

Yet the girl was terrified. It was no use, could not be any use screaming out.

He said to her, "Come, let's go before we're knocked off our feet!"

[Syrawenn]

The mountain -or whatever the source of the thunder was- ignored the girl's pleas and kept shaking the earth. Trees were falling over and the ground split in front of them. Having secured himself Isaac managed to stay upright a little longer before he was forced down on one knee.

Nishi grabbed his hand with her cold fingers. She looked at him in terror as she tried to crawl towards him. The light of the serene moonlight path beckoned.

The air coloured a threatening dark red as the main road seemed far away. Suddenly the rumble subsided, a last few shocks uprooting another tree in front of them. Nishi screamed and jumped behind Isaac, still holding his hand. The girl was trembling all over, her sobs clear in the sudden silence. "Please please please take me away from here!" She cried, squeezing her little fist as if it was the last hold she had.

[Guest]

He squeezed her hand.

Had the sudden peace struck at his behest? He didn't fancy his voice was that potent. Nishi. Her name, her name, she told me her name. "Don't worry," he said. "It's okay now." His smile drooped, but held. He departed the section in a pace she could match with careful steps round the fallen debris. When they were at the threshold to the moonlight path he glanced back for a last peak at the red in the sky and then knelt down before the girl, looking into her eyes.

He'd no experience with any child's fragility save that of his own. I remember then. He drew the girl to him. "I've gone and saved you from the dark- look, see the stars?" He motioned with his head toward the sky. Where could one start a healthy fire? Perhaps one could conjure it out of the ground like a bud if one asked nice enough.

He searched her features for familiarities. What do you expect her to look like? He did not point his gaze where he'd last expected his sleeping body to lie; a brush with that half may've been just what cracked up the ground. Each sob of the girl's shook him inside. So cold. He took her hand again in his and wished that his warmth be somehow imparted to her.

He imagined his blood as it flowed and its heat he made himself feel- in his palm he envisioned an ebb as of miniscule tides, a pulse of heat that glowed.

Is she my creation? he asked himself.

[Syrawenn]

Staying close to Isaac the girl whimpered, even when silence returned. Her steps floundered the closer they got to the safety of the moonpath. With only one more step in sight to freedom, the tears in her eyes became visible as she struggled with something. Where she had been so quick in leaving the treestump she actually hesitated to step out of this nightmare.

Slowly Nishi shook her head, her face sad. "You are very sweet, but I can't leave. I am stuck here forever. The dolman fell. My soul is no longer mine." Longingly she looked at the stars just out of reach, one hand stretching as if to pluck one.

The warmth Isaac sent out to the girl fell into a deep hole. It did not fill anything, but just disappeared as if she was a bottomless well. Her unfamiliar face still looked up at him, pleading.

"Will you still help me when you are out there?" She pointed to the path. "Will you free me?"

[Guest]

"Your soul?" he said. "But how can it be lost?" He unhanded her. "Why can't you come further?" The exposure to a cataclysm was without consequence; they'd left unscathed and from here could escape with that health intact. That plot of dirt alone had suffered- what was her soul that was lost along with it? In himself there burnt nothing of the sort. Could there be a gap between him and the rest of people? For the girl, poor helpless lass whom she appeared to be, a tear in the earth was the end of it all, and this desolate niche was become her prison. "What could I have done?" he asked. He remained on his knees. "What is the dolmen? Why are you doomed, like that, so- quick? I can help, I can save it back, your soul- surely I can!"

How had she come?

"Gods," he said. "How in gods' name were you put here, girl? This fate's too early for you!" Of the inhabitants, she was the least deserving. Her end was of more severity than what yet revealed would suggest be possible, and resulted from nothing, nothing he knew or dreamt of.

[Syrawenn]

The tears formed again. She was so cold to the touch that Isaac's hands began to hurt. "The dolman fell. We were no longer safe. It was just a story they said, just an old children's rhyme. But now I am in it. You are dreaming, you will wake up. I won't. This is my nightmare and I will live it forever." Nishi started to sob uncontrollably, her small shoulders shocking with grief. "I just want to leave! Please, I want to be free!"

The atmosphere with the girl was so different from what Isaac had experienced on the other paths. Whereas the others indeed had a dreamlike feel to them, this was just as real as the nightmare he had left when fleeing the caravan.

Something was starting to pull at Isaac, as if it tickled the back of his mind. Nishi stared at him in horror. A sense of urgency came over him. The girl reached out her hands and yelled: "No! Don't go! Promise me you'll find the dolman! Make it stand up again and put the sleeper back in a slumber!"

With a forceful pull Isaac was yanked from the scene, his feet leaving the moonlit path as he fell through it, falling into darkness.
Falling forever.
Falling.

*WHAM*

He slammed back into his body and opened his eyes to the familiar piece of forest, the sun shining in his eyes.

[Guest]

He was content to lie awhile staring up into the daylit sky.

Some place.

The girl's sobs followed a disordered recollection of his desertion, his stumbling fall and of his repairs made to his arm, of the robe torn for bandage-cloth and of the oddities encountered upon entering sleep. He'd got in a clash with some bandit.

Yes, and the Court.

Once he'd marched, as though no wiser, from a caravan into King's Court, stayed briefly till hired again as a soldier, and been pummeled since into sorry shape, had put his life in danger for a looter's success, oh, what else? Had this not been very long ago? It was raining heavily, he knew that, upon the last fight, and the wheels had all been stuck in mud; by immersion in the memory, a violent reinsertion of his self back into the turmoil, Isaac saw exactly their attitudes, that disregard of Felwars' and the others' for what he too badly had required yet could not, neither then nor now, even name; his eyes closed and he cursed aloud.

I was afraid... will that be the best excuse I ever come up with?

He'd bound his arm and layed himself to rest. I'm tired of being on my back. He rose and paced and looked about. It was at the Court that I'd had doubts. The damage dealt the city was presented to him directly upon his arrival. It was an ugly place. And there he'd not felt any comfort. Signing up for the latest caravan and riding off he thought back to his home and to his dead mother and laughed, then and later, at her face arising from the mists. Please, I don't want any of that, not now. He was set to wandering without recourse the lands beyond his filthy home. In due course he'd owed service to several individuals, among whom would now belong this girl, this Nishi; her circumstance was returning to him piece by piece. He regressed for flickers at a time to the anguished sights of a far-bygone adolesence so recently severed by his journey's start.

Soberly, he quitted his worries, and looked to the sky for the position of the sun. Its a long way from a dream to here, he thought. Why disobey her request- for what, to get quicker out of this hole? Am I any more help to myself than I am to her?

He searched his vicinity for a tree with enough limbs to climb up on. If he found a tree that was high enough, then he would be able to see all the way to the horizon.