[b]:: Dream world - Frozen Plains :: :: Time unknown ::[/b] [center][url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3yzwpn0VfQg][img=http://fc03.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2014/014/3/4/_sfm__aurora_borealis_by_kungfubellydancer-d727cdx.jpg][/url] [I](Click on the image for sound.)[/I][/center] The arctic winds were howling silently across the vast expanses of frozen landscape. Everywhere, as far as the eye could see, everything was covered with a thick coating of vivid blue ice. Not the sickly transparent white of the real world, but rather a rich, opaque cyan perfection. There were no trees in sight within this barren environment, no animals or signs of life to be found. Only an endless horizon of rugged blue hills, icy azure valleys and towering frozen crags. Carried delicately within the frigid breeze were tiny gusts of snowy particles, wandering lazily over the massive expanse. None of them ever seemed to stay on the ground for too long, however. Somehow, as if carried by some invisible force, they would always rise up again, caressing the terrain in eerie, almost hypnotic dance. Scattered throughout the wasteland, in sharp contrast to the otherwise cold blue environment around them, were vibrant orange rivers of flowing lava. Like otherworldly snakes of living fire, they wound and twisted between the battered canyons and jagged cliffs in bewildering patterns, giving the scene an unearthly, deeply mystical allure. Up above, flowing across the clear veil of nocturnal arctic sky, a breathtaking spectacle was unfolding. Tracing puzzling shapes across the midnight stars, a massive aurora stretched as far as the eye could see, like multi-coloured ribbons of transparent silk. Dazzling palettes of purple, green, aquamarine and blue, weaving and unweaving soothingly throughout the sky, several hues of which they probably hadn't even invented a name for yet. Spectral creatures seemed to swim across the aether, weaving their paths between thunderous clouds of striking purple and august lapis. Some seemed shaped like humans, others did not. Ghostly birds, skeletal dragons and winged sea serpents were intertwined in the sparkling azure sky, swirling in a wonderfully chaotic cacophony of lights and beauty. Alone within this overwhelming ocean of frozen tranquility, a lone but tenacious figure slowly made its way across the arid landscape. It was a man, in his early forties by the looks of him, with a luxurious, icicle covered beard and a pair of small circular glass frames perched on his nose. A warm outfit of thick, heavily insulated animal hide was draped over his weary body, leaving only his head exposed to the harsh winter winds. His fur-lined hood had long since fallen back, exposing his head of short, wind-blown greying black hair. Despite his age, his features were sharp and attractive, with an undeniable scholarly charm to them. A pair of sturdy black walking sticks were clasped in his mittened hands, and a set of sharp iron ice clamps were secured to his leather boots. [I]Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.[/I] The ice cracked crisply beneath him as he walked, the metal hooks sinking deeply into the slippery material as he inexorably made his way forward, one laborious step at a time. His walking stick would stab repeatedly up and down into the ground, anchoring him firmly as he went. He couldn't afford to make a mistake now, any misstep might be fatal. Clearly visible through the opaque fabric of his left glove, a ring of pure shimmering light could be seen around where his ring finger would probably be, seemingly unimpeded by the material around it. [I]Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.[/I] It was impossible to tell how many days had passed since the start of his long, gruelling journey. In this realm, time often seemed to flow... differently, for lack of a better term. Days and nights would last entire seasons, shortening only briefly during the span of a few short weeks before inverting themselves yet again. Here, everything seemed intertwined between radical extremes. Light and dark, hot and cold, day and night... Life and death... It was a place of breathtaking beauty, but also one of danger and loneliness. Not many mortals dared to tread into this strange and surreal landscape, and those that did were far and few in between. It was harsh and inhospitable wilderness, untouched by the hands of man and nature alike. Here was a place where the primordial forces of creation still held sway, where the raw elemental energies of the universe coiled and uncoiled together with chaotic harmony. [I]Crunch... Crunch... Crunch... [/I] The man breathed heavily as he reached the top of a short, jagged hill. Allowing himself a few moments to take in the sight before him as he struggled to regain his breath, he let his eyes wander across the phantasmal landscape below him. Rising heated air from one of the lava streams below gently caressed his face as it reached him, provided a much welcome relief from the constant burning cold. Far ahead, he could see a circular clearing in the terrain, a wide sunken plain devoid of cliffs or fiery rivers. His destination at last. The auroras overhead seemed to coalesce slowly, spinning in a wide, lazy circle above it. It had started. Immediately, the man began moving again. Every second counted. There was still a lot of distance to cover, and he would have to hurry if he wanted make it there in time. With renewed vigor, he pressed on forward. He soon reached the bottom of the hill, and began walking alongside the narrow river of lava which flowed underneath it. Dense clouds of translucent fog would slowly rise from where it met with the frozen terrain, only to be rapidly transformed into tiny clouds of wandering snowflakes which would quickly disperse in the wind. Everything around seemed to be in a perpetual state of flux, yet at the same time, nothing really ever changed. There was a certain sense of stagnation to be found in this strange land, a sense that everything seemed to come in circles, like a perpetual loop, always in movement, yet still stationary. It was a closed system, an isolated structure, eternal and peaceful for always, forever shielded from the worries of the outside world. Eventually, the river diverted, and he had to continue through the cold without it, with only the light of the moon and stars to guide him on his path. As he ventured forward, ever closer to his destination, the very air itself began to feel strangely energised, the harsh winds growing more restless, howling and whistling in anticipation. It wasn't long before his hood was yet again blown back by the gale, but he ignored it, as always. He didn't have time to stop for it, every second counted. His weary features opened up with happiness and relief when he reached the clearing. [i]At last...[/i] By now, the aurora above had already begun its slow yet inexorable descent. By the time he finally reached the center, it was almost touching the ground below it, filling the valley with a nimbus of multi-coloured light. It was beautiful. A kaleidoscopic array of spirits floated through the air around the perimeter, swimming through the aether like a massive swarm of polychromatic fish. The wind was blowing stronger than ever, entwining hypnotically with the melodic whispers of the creatures above. A single figure separated from the group, floating down until it was standing face to face with him. It was the phantom of a beautiful woman, who's features were obscured by an ethereal veil of incandescent light, the same colours as the very aurora itself. A ring of pure shimmering light could be seen brightly glowing on her left ring finger, a perfect mirror of the one found on the traveller's own. The two figures stared at one another, mesmerised by emotion, and finally embraced. Together at last. The ethereal specters around them began to spin wildly in a circle around them, as the wind raged on as never before. Like a dizzying whirlwind of light and colour, it spun faster and faster, before dispersing in a peaceful sigh of aether, the valley tranquil yet again. At the center of the clearing, only two walking sticks and a pair of ice clamps remained... Immaterial and unseen, a boundless presence watched on with a smile. Tonight had been a good night. --- [b]:: Waking World - Everine's room. ::[/b] [b]:: October 4th, 2014 - 7:01AM ::[/b] Everine awoke with a smile on her face. She'd been afraid that she wouldn't be able to finish that dream in time... After reaching down to pre-emptively disable the alarm next to her bed, she immediately took hold of the small black notebook on her nightstand and began to write. A contended tear rolled down on her cheek as she did so. This had been such a wonderful dream... Why couldn't the real world be more like that? She was distracted from her reverie by the sound of her mother calling for breakfast. Putting the notebook aside with a sigh, she quickly put some clothes on and began brushing her hair absent-mindedly. If only she could stay asleep forever, she pondered. She could spent her entire time just imagining stories and wandering across the world. She would still wake up every now and then to go to the library or fill in her notebook, of course, but otherwise she could be free of duties and obligations. No more homework, no more ballet classes, or piano lessons, or ice skating, not unless she wanted to. No, just endless flying forever and ever... "Everine! Are you up yet?! We're leaving in twenty minutes!" the voice intervened again. "I'm coming!" She set the hairbrush down and hastily grabbed her notebook and backpack, before leaving the room and heading downstairs. Mom and Dad were already at the table, putting down breakfast. She settled into her usual spot and began writing again, barely paying attention to the food in front of her. Dad did the little fake cough thing he did when he wanted you to pay attention to something, and she looked up. Hm... Pancakes! She liked pancakes... But then again, she wasn't quite done writing down the dream she had last night. What a dilemma... She quickly filled her plate with some of the delicious syrupy goodness, then went back to writing, absent-mindedly biting into an enormous mouthful of pancakes in the process. Was syrupy a word? She'd have to ask Mrs. Ryan in English class later today. Dad did the little fake cough again and she looked up, meeting his amused gaze. "Busy night?" he asked jokingly. For some reason, adults never really seemed to take her dreams very seriously. "Mmrrff-mm!" Oops. Too many pancakes in her mouth. "Can I see?" "Irsh mot firishd." "Evee, dear, please don't talk with your mouth full, it's rude." "Sorry mommy. I said it's not finished. I have to write everything now while it's fresh!" "I'm sure it can wait until after breakfast. How about you just tell us about it instead?" "But moooom..." she gave her the face with the big eyes that always made her laugh and say yes to everything. "Oh, alright..." she laughed, giving Dad a funny look. "Just make sure you eat everything. And that means your fruits too." She quickly resumed writing, barely giving them another glance for the remainder of the meal. She ended up leaving a little food behind at the end, but Mom didn't really say anything, because they were getting late and she didn't know where her keys were, and she couldn't find them next to the mirror, even though Dad kept saying they were next to the mirror. Eventually, they found them on the table by the big couch that always made funny noise when you sat on it wrong, and they hopped on into the car. Dad gave Mom one of those funny kisses he gave her where his lips did weird things with her lips, and gave her a big hug, the one that lifted her up and made her legs swing from side to side. He got into his own car, the blue one with the pink dices on the mirror, and they drove off, saying goodbye through the window. She had mostly finished writing by now, so she began a quick sketch of the landscape in her dream, using coloured pencils to make it lava-y and icy all over the way she imagined. They got to school, and Mom got annoyed at her because she wouldn't leave faster and had her pencils everywhere, but she gave her the look, and Mom made the face she always got when she tried to keep looking angry but looked like she really wanted to start laughing. They got everything back in its proper place, even the purple pencil that fell between the seats, and Mom did the embarrassing thing where she licked her hand and started fussing with her hair. Fortunately, there weren't too many kids around to see that. She went to the playground, hoping her usual corner wasn't used, while Mom went to the big building where she always met with the other teachers.