[hider=The Dreams of the Prophet and the Emissary of Absolute Truth]
A darkness, a thick and vacant blackness clothed the Son of the Prophet. He floated in an umbral vacuum of unconsciousness, absently drifting through tracts of his inhabited psyche. The vast stillness, the oppressive silence, the endless, sprawling, infinite and shadowy abyss was both suffocating and comforting.


[i]Immolate yourself in mindless abandonment...[/i]


His eyes fluttered open. His feet settled upon a distant floor. Studying the emptiness of his subconscious, he wandered forward. The origin of the voice remained unseen. Alyosha dazedly continued; he was unsure how much time had passed. Had it been seconds? Hours? The Oracle of Seven Swords was uncertain. Gradually, his thoughts turned to the horror he had just envisioned, but again, the voice interrupted.


[i] Let your mind divorce itself from your flesh and your bones, and let your eyes glare unto the infinite emptiness.[/i]


Something about the voice was familiar, almost [i]maternal[/i], yet deeply unsettling. Recognition gnawed just beyond the reach of his perception. In the distance, a gentle beryl light shone. The elf stiffened, then began to cautiously walk toward the light. 


[i]Empty yourself of all save the quenchless lust for The Absolute Truth, and become one with that inexpressible void which lies just beyond the vast wasteland of the mortal mind.[/i]


Without explanation, his discomfort grew into anxiety, but his emotions remained somehow detached, as if he were experiencing them vicariously. It urged him onward, compelling him to the light. In his dissociative fugue, his pace increased. Footsteps echoed against the unseen envaginations of nothingness. The light began to swell.


[i]Neither remorse nor sorrow nor despair for the weariness of existence shall trouble you; for you are beyond the reach of all these whilst wrapped in the spiritual narcotic of their embrace.[/i]


The phosphorescent orb seemed to ebb and flow in time with the voice. Alyosha reached out to touch it, but it was somehow too close and too far away. Panic swelled in his throat, but even that seemed like a former husk of emotion. The Prophet did not know for how long, but he realized he was running. His eyes strained against its brightness.


[i]Relinquish your strangle-hold of certainty of belief in the religions of this world. The Order Sequential  are but symbols and veils of The Absolute Truth. Likewise disregard the all consuming and vain philosophies of those who profess to be wise in the unknowable and the hidden. There is naught but self serving opiate in considering the question between belief and disbelief.[/i]


The light was all but consuming. There was only fear: fear and blinding light. The Prophet sprinted recklessly forward. His feet pounded against nothing with abandon. His breath hitched in his chest with effort and terror. 


[i]Seek only the Absolute Truth.[/i]


He stumbled, falling.  He threw his hands out to catch himself, but there was nothing. He tumbled downward, endlessly.


[i]Seek only…[/i]


Alyosha cried out, but his voice made no sound.


[i]The Absolute Truth…[/i]


His eyes fluttered open.

[i]The Absolute Truth…[/i]
[/hider]