[center][h1] Nightmares [/h1][/center]
[hr]

The Dreamscape was, in a word, flexible. It became whatever its visitors wanted it to be, whether they knew it or not. It was a place with little rules for consistency, or rigidity, or sensibility of a kind. It could offer escape from the constant torment of reality or entrapment in twisted conjurations of the mind.

The four little mortals, drifting in a corner of the Dreamscape, were not lucky enough to receive the former. A closer inspection revealed one to be much older than the rest. A guardian, perhaps. A seasoned, experienced, emotionally mature mortal – a dull flavour compared to the vivid mental machinations younger mortals so tended to have.

And so it was the triplets whom Sirna turned their attention to.

~

Tad found himself in a place he had once called home, surrounded by people who had once jeered and beat him for what he was. They were not jeering now. They watched, silent, as their chieftess’ heir pulled him close, hands cupping his neck as she offered him a smile, sweet and soft. Between their clustered feet sat a hare, its coat a tortoiseshell of grey, brown and white.

“I’m so happy you chose to stay,” said Misha. “My little mutt.”

Her hands pulled away and it was then that it became clear that it had not been a gesture of affection. How could it be, with the rope she had tied around his neck like one would to a mule?

He could only truly blink in surprise as his mind raced. The blank faces around him gave no solace. Where was his mother? His sisters? Had they left him behind?

He looked back at Misha, the woman he still loved, deep down, whose words cut him deep. “Why would you call me that?” was his first question, voice raw and rough with the rope around it, “Misha please.” He began again, “This isn't right. You wouldn't do this! What's going on?” He began to tug at the rope. His gaze briefly flickered to the hare but this only further confused him.

“Wouldn’t I?”

Misha didn’t sound right. She didn’t [i]look[/i] right. Her eyes melted away into pools of bleak nothingness, dripping streaks of black down the curve of her cheeks. Her hands yanked at the rope, tightening it, pulling him in into a false facsimile of a hug. With her mouth right up to his ear, she whispered, “This is the only way you can ever be loved, mutt.”

The hare sat behind her feet now. It sniffed at the trail of rope that lay on the ground, the tail end of what Misha had [i]collared[/i] him with. As if sensing defiance, Misha’s foot shot out backwards and stomped at the hare. It leaped nimbly out of the way. Its nose twitched. Misha yanked on the rope a second time, but it seemed almost an afterthought.

“Insect,” she growled.

Tad didn't know how to feel. But he knew there was something terribly wrong here. Misha was not Misha but some creature that wore her visage, it had to be. She would not be acting like this otherwise. So Tad pushed back, shoving Misha away from him.

The world had now gone dark beyond his periphery. With flickering ghost light images dancing with and showing their terrible faces. Tad braced himself for the worst and said to the thing before him, “Leave it alone! You are not Misha! Misha is kind and caring, her heart is not made of stone like yours.” He gave a mighty tug to the rope.

The rope split apart. Misha held up her end, watching as it crumbled into loose strands of fine fibre. The hare scampered around her, settling somewhere off to Tad’s side.

“Yet you believed this of me,” she said. “You thought me someone who considered you lower than the grass that wild beasts feed on. Will you think this of everyone who dares to offer you their affection?”

“That's not true!” Tad sputtered, “That was never true and you know it!” Yet doubt surfaced in his heart. What if he had thought that, deep down? And with a crushing realization, it was no longer Misha who stood before him now, but himself. His own reflection, mirrored by the dark.

It smiled and Tad knew that he himself believed he was unlovable. The edges of his vision grew darker and darker.

Then the hare bit his ankle. Hard. It was painful enough to startle, but not enough to cause Tad to fall. It was a pain that surged up his leg, up his spine, through his brain – and with it came a rush of memory. Every hug Mom had ever given him; the antics Teefee would get up to and expect her slightly older by a few seconds brother to solve; the lighthearted ribbing Toffee would throw at him. Every moment they spent together. Every smile they shared. There were no words from the hare with glowing eyes. There was no need for them.

The sky burst open into bright blue. The people of his old tribe faded away. His double was left standing there, scowling.
“I suppose it was too much to expect from one little heartbreak,” he said. Something echoed beneath his mimicry of Tad’s voice, something [i]other[/i]. He looked up at the light sky. “[i]Disgusting.[/i]”

Then it was gone, leaving Tad alone in his dreams.

~

Toffee waded through a river of blood. The thick stench of iron was inescapable. Her fur was matted, crusted over in places; she could barely move for the sheer viscosity of the blood she was trying to rise from. Water rushes lined the riverbanks, blocking the horizon from view. Among the plant stems glimmered something small – almost like eyes – but that could easily be a trick of the light under the starry night. Panic was setting in, gripping her chest like a too tight shirt. Her breaths came fast as exertion took its toll. She had to get out!

The riverbanks seemed an impossible destination. Still, the bank of the river eventually came within reach, shallow rust-coloured liquid sludging over her shins as she sputtered and coughed. It became shallow enough to realise that someone was lying in the blood water, holding onto her ankle.

Malac.

Toffee screamed as terror flooded her entire being. She kicked at his hand, once, twice- on the third hit there was a terrible cracking sound and Toffee was falling backwards. The sludge splashed everywhere and she was only further coated as she tried to scramble away. She couldn't even think but she knew in her heart that Malac was dead, so how was he here now?

“I’m not,” said Malac. He lifted his other hand. The gaping hole in his chest was clear, weeping in river blood behind his torn clothing. His voice boomed through the space, drowning her in its sound. “You killed me.”

Another body broke through the water’s surface, prone. Its face was familiar, matted fur, limp ears. A second body joined it, and a third, and by then, Toffee could no longer deny that she was staring at the rotten bodies of her own family.
A quiet rustle sounded somewhere on the riverbank, behind Toffee.

“Just like you killed them,” continued Malac, in that horrible, crackling voice. Blood burbled out of his mouth, staining his lips. “And you know you will. Your hands will always carry the filth of what you did.”

“No!” Toffee yelled. “You-you caused this!” And something snapped inside her as she looked at the corpses of her family. She wasn't afraid, no, she was angry. Angry at this thing. Angry at herself for her failure to protect those she loved. Toffee knew what she needed. Grief could come later. She needed to hit something. All other thoughts to the side, she charged. 

Rage bubbled to the surface of her being as she tackled Malac, sending them both into the bloody river. She got on top of him when his corpse had settled to the sandy floor and began to hit him. Water and viscera coated her face and body but she didn't care. Toffee screamed, “Monster! I'll make you pay! I'll make you pay for what you've done!”

The river vanished. The blood vanished. The corpses of her family vanished. It was just her and Malac now, caught under a spotlight in a swath of darkness. None of it registered. Engulfed in the hot rush of fury, Toffee rained blow after blow on the [i]thing[/i] that had dared to touch her sister. This was right. This was just. Why should tears be shed for the death of people like Malac?

A rusty red hare sat in the fringes of the spotlight. By the time it noticed the unhinged jaw overhead, it was too late. Teeth sharp as knives pierced into the hare’s neck. Black ichor spurted out of its neck, black miasma wafted off its matted fur. It squealed and squealed, cries that went unheard. Hindfeet stamped uncontrollably. Eyes that glowed like the moon sputtered into a bleak dim red. Its cries ceased.
It inhaled Toffee’s rage. Swallowed her despair. Savoured her self-righteousness. All at once, it understood.

In tandem with Toffee, in the jaws of the Patron of Nightmares, the Dream Guide [i]roared[/i].

When her bloody work was done, Toffee breathed quick shallow breaths as she gazed upon her grisly work. But she found that Malac looked untouched, no longer dead. There was just a spear in his heart. She stumbled backwards, suddenly gripped not by guilt but by shame. Her bloody hands shook. She had let her anger win again.

Far above, orange-slit eyes watched. The hare sat next to Malac’s body. It was twice the size of a typical Dream Guide now, its fur long and shaggy, its eyes gleaming red. It sank its teeth into Malac’s bloodless neck and without further ado, dragged him out of the spotlight, into the darkness.

And so Toffee was left alone in her nightmares.

~

Teefee stood in an empty field of primroses. Their violently violet heads bobbed up and down. Little insects buzzed by, merry in their pilgrimage from flower to flower. The horizon didn’t seem to end, no matter where she turned. There was no tree in sight. No landmarks. No people. No Tad, Toffee, or Mother.

She was alone.

So she called for them. Raising her hands to her mouth as she shouted their names. 

“Toffee! Tad! Mooooom! Where are you guys!”

This went on for a time, each shout becoming quieter and hoarser but her steps grew more frantic and she began to jog. She grew frightened that she was alone. She didn't like being alone. Sure it was nice sometimes but she always knew where to go to find her family so she wouldn't be alone.

So why was she alone?

Did they lose her? Was she left behind? 

Teefee eventually tired herself out and fell to her knees in a bed of primroses and began to absentmindedly pluck at the petals as she swiveled her head to and fro trying to find them or anybody.

But there was no one.

Time passed, long enough for the sun to begin lowering itself in the sky. Teefee had managed to shred herself a little pile of primroses to sit in. Her shadow stretched long in the eternal sunset, cast deep and dark over pulled petals.

Tears soon joined the petals. She felt useless. She had always been useless. She was a burden, something her family only tolerated. Deep sobs wracked her as her eyes blurred. Why did this hurt so much? [i]What if the pain could just go away?[/i] The thought was alien in her mind but it dwelled and festered like a bad wound. 

What if it all would go away? 

What if she could feel [i]nothing?[/i] Be nothing. No more worries, no more burdens. Just blissful, tolerable, peace. 

And Teefee felt a terrible sense of longing.

The shadows tucked between each blade of grass seemed to darken. They gathered with her own, twisting and spiralling until a chasm yawned open before her, no bottom in sight. Silence reigned, as it had been doing so since she awoke here, but there seemed to be [i]something[/i] beckoning her. A promise of relief. An escape from those who had abandoned her. An opportunity to embrace what she really was.

And what was she, really?

Teefee knew as she stood to gaze into the abyss. She knew with her entire being- [i]worthless[/i].

She placed her foot over the maw, teetering on the edge, before falling in.

​​It wasn’t a long fall, on account of the gust of wind that burst out from the depths of the chasm, strong enough to thrust Teefee right back up and out of it, landing her a good distance away from the chasm’s edge. A wisp of a voice broke through the endless clearing – but its tone did not stay soft for long.

“[color=#e1ceff]And what have we here?[/color]” Something rolled into being, the likes of which Teefee had not laid eyes upon before – rounder than a pebble (and [i]much[/i] bigger), with a surface filled with pits and craters, backlit by a colour that was rapidly turning red. It floated in the air and water poured forth from its bottom. The voice that had spoken did not raise itself, but its tone grew harsh. “[color=#e1ceff]You request I tend to my duties in a manner befitting [i]your[/i] preference, then relieve me of them? How kind. You truly [i]shouldn’t[/i] have.[/color]”

Teefee righted herself and sat up, blinking rapidly at the strange sight.

The chasm closed. The shadows lifted from the ground and they coalesced, forming an ugly, wizened old man. He was absurdly tall, hunched over, with hair that was a surprising inky black, spilling over his shoulders in a restless, shifting mass. His eyes were sunken pools of white, set against pallid, grey skin. Teefee shivered at the sight of the man and felt as if her skin was crawling.

“You,” he said. He sounded surprised. “You would interrupt my work?”

“[color=#e1ceff]I interrupt shoddy rubbish.[/color]”The ball-thing spun, red cycling into orange. “[color=#e1ceff]Begone.[/color]”

And the man was gone, as if he had never been there. The sun had set by then, but between the glowing ball-thing and the scattered stars, the night was well-lit. The ball-thing spun again. Orange faded to colourless white. Teefee found herself weighed with the attention of something… weird. Her own attention became abruptly focused; her surroundings became clear in a way that made her realise how utterly hazy they had been before; and her sense of self solidified. She could [i]feel[/i] herself breathe.

Teefee now knew that this was a dream. She stood and it was as if some great burden had been lifted off her shoulders and from her heart. She let out a deep sigh. She was just asleep. She had not been abandoned. She would wake and her siblings and mother would be by her side.
She looked upon the ghostly pitted ball, the shades of red she had never seen before. Mesmerized, she could not look away and even took steps closer. She wanted to touch it and feel those bumps. If she was dreaming, she wondered what it would be like?
 
Teefee realized with a start that, hadn’t this thing talked? Had it not banished that foul man?

So she cleared her throat and a flurry of questions saddled forth, “Hello! Thank you for helping me. What was that thing? What are you? Where are we? I mean, I'm dreaming right? Are you a part of my dream?”

The ball glowed pink.

“[color=#e1ceff]Many questions[/color],” they said, quietly. “[color=#e1ceff]I have only one for you, Teefeen. How much would you give to keep your family with you?[/color]”

“Everything.” She said without hesitation, before clamping her mouth shut as her cheeks became flushed. She thought about what it felt to be alone and that feeling was a pit in the bottom of her stomach, one that threatened to consume her and she could only ask herself- why? Her mind raced. Had she always felt this way? Or had she just always assumed that they would not ever be separated? “Is that… selfish?” She asked the ball, as it seemed like it could give her answers.

“[color=#e1ceff]That depends on who you ask.[/color]”

The ever-cascading waterfall split apart before Teefee, revealing to her nothing but a shallow pool of absurdly still water. It seemed almost a bowl; that was how still it was.

“[color=#e1ceff]If you mean what you say[/color],” said Sirna, “[color=#e1ceff]then I would have that which you hold most dear. An item. An organ. A moment. A feeling. Your family, if you like. Something that you could only ever dream of letting go.[/color]”

She eyed the bowl with raised eyebrows before looking at the ball and then back at the bowl. It depends on who you ask? She hated when adults said vague things but this annoyance felt paltry to the question posed. She pondered the words spoken. What could she dream of letting go in the name of her family? An item? She had no items of great importance. An organ? What even was that? What about a moment? She had a lot of moments but they all seemed too precious to her to even consider letting them go. A feeling? But she liked how she felt. And her family? No way, that seemed stupid. 

Teefee let out a little sigh as she rubbed her chin. This was difficult and really, what was this even all about? She then eyed the floating ball, still really confused by this entire thing but she shrugged and asked, “What is an organ?”

“[color=#e1ceff]It is what keeps you mortals away from the realm of the dead.[/color]” Mist condensed into a little blue cloud above the water bowl. It shifted its silhouette in a series of shapes; first something that looked like a bean, then something that looked like a saggy person, then something that was oblong, and veiny, and kept getting bigger and smaller, over and over. “[color=#e1ceff]Your stomach, processing the food you eat. Your skin, buried beneath your fur. Your heart, that which beats in your chest. Those are organs.[/color]”
The cloud dissipated. Sirna waited.

“They sound important.” Teefee murmured. “How would I give any of that to you without…” She suddenly whispered, “Dying?” She took a slight step forward, holding her arms close to her chest. “Do I have to give anything at all? What if I just woke up?”

“[color=#e1ceff]Then you would wake up[/color],” answered Sirna, simply. “[color=#e1ceff]And you would be with your family, and smile with them, and travel with them, until the day you lose them.[/color]” Night blinked into day. The violet primroses waved in the cheerful sunshine, a glimpse of a world that cared little for a cat left all alone.

“[color=#e1ceff]Whyever it happens, however it happens, when you find yourself asking if you could have done more to help them…[/color]” Sirna’s pink faded into pale violet. “[color=#e1ceff]You will know that you could have and did not.[/color]” The waterfall’s parting grew narrow. 

“[color=#e1ceff]I am not interested in killing mortals. Whatever you choose to give me will not result in your death. That, I can reassure you.[/color]” Now Sirna glowed a dim blue. “[color=#e1ceff]To offer up “everything” is easy. To live with that, less so. It is understandable if your family is not worth the choice.[/color]”

Her dream visitor, if one could even call the floating ball that, spoke in a way that made Teefee feel small. As if she was being instructed by an adult from the tribe. They always assumed she was stupid because her mind wandered but that wasn’t the case, mostly. So Teefee knew what the ball was doing in saying such things. Trying to guilt her into a decision but the worst part was, it was right. How could she live with herself if she had been offered the ability to keep safe and protect the ones she loved? She pursed her lips and gave a small nod. 

“You know just what to say.” Teefee said in a soft voice before she smiled and spread her arms wide. “If you promise that I won’t die by this, then I give you my heart. For I would give it up in the name of my loved ones.” Sirna’s light flickered colour-less, for just a moment. The waterfall parted wide open. 

“[color=#e1ceff]You mortals[/color],” they said, softly. “[color=#e1ceff]So very, [i]very[/i] interesting when you choose to be.[/color]”
Strings of white spun out from Teefee’s chest, thin as spider silk, and tangled into shape above the water bowl. A tiny, little heart took form, coated in familiar white fur.

“[color=#e1ceff]I claim your heart, Teefeen. Your truest desires, your deepest ambitions – every step you take to achieve them is a step that I bear witness to, no matter where you are.[/color]” The curtain of water closed with finality, snapping the threads connecting Teefee to her heart. “[color=#e1ceff]In return, I anoint you Dreamwalker, the first of your kind. The Dreamscape is open to you. All of it. You may wander, you may visit the dreams of others. And perhaps most importantly, you may find your family, wherever they may be, so long as their minds lie within my realm.[/color]” The ball tilted. “[color=#e1ceff]Navigation can be challenging, but you will never be lost. Not here.[/color]”

A pair of muddy-looking ears popped out from the primroses. It was followed by a head, a twitching nose and a pair of glowing eyes. A hare. Another hare showed up next to it, glossy black. At the sight of only two hares, Sirna’s colour faded again for a brief moment.
“[color=#e1ceff]These Dream Guides will lead you to your brother and mother, if you so wish.[/color]” The pour of the waterfall lessened. Sirna’s presence faded, as if they had their attention elsewhere. “[color=#e1ceff]Your sister may require finesse. Take this.[/color]” A spear appeared in Teefee’s hand, as though it had always been there. “[color=#e1ceff]It will point the way.[/color]”
The waterfall returned to full force. Sirna’s moon lit up into a warm, sky blue.

“[color=#e1ceff]I look forward to the rest of your life, Teefeen.[/color]”

Teefee blinked as she held the spear. She wasn’t really sure how to react with what had just transpired but those hares sure were cute. “So I’m able to walk within other’s dreams… That’s… That’s awesome! Toffee will be super jealous, wait what’s wrong with Toffee? And who are you, anyway? I can’t just call you dream ball, can I?”

Because Sirna had [i]some[/i] pride as a god, they wrestled the urge to dim their sky blue colour to a midnight shade. So what if Teefeen was the first to ask them that question, without bestowing her own idea of what they should be called upon them? Sarhush had done it, as had the countless dream shamans who had flocked into the temple they had never asked for, as had the mortals who remembered what glimpses they had of Sirna in their dreams. Sirna had not thought much of such transgressions, but the simple question brought forth an unprecedented rush of feeling within them. 

“[color=#e1ceff]This is a moon[/color],” they said, mostly to test out the evenness of their voice. It was pretty even. They continued, “[color=#e1ceff]You may call me Sirna. As for your sister… her dreams are her stories to tell.[/color]” Abruptly, Sirna’s waterfall reversed direction, rising up to wrap around their moon.

“[color=#e1ceff]Farewell[/color],” they said, and popped out of existence.

“Goodbye…” she paused but they were already gone, “...Sirna.” Teefee said the name, seeing how it felt upon her tongue. She said, “Moon.” As well. Strange words for strange times. Teefee shook her head and felt her grip on the spear. There would be a lot to think about in the days to come because this entire ordeal was worthy of a good thinking. For now, she would go and investigate her family’s dreams, since she would be able to now?

Teefee’s gaze dropped to the hares, who seemed to wait with anticipation. She smiled. 

“Lead the way, little buns!”

[hider= Summary]
Tad, Toffee and Teefee have nightmares. We witness Tad’s dark thoughts. We see Toffee’s nightmares. While Teefee slips into oblivion, only to be reduced upon the brink by none other than Sirna. The two talk and Sirna guilts Teefee into giving up her heart to protect her family, metaphorically speaking. The first Dreamwalker is born.

As Dreamwalker, Teefee is now able to:
Become lucid in dreams at will. 
Traverse the Dreamscape. 
Witness others’ dreams. 
Interact with others’ dreams. This is a two-way street; the other party must be open to receiving Teefee in their dreams. Forcing her way through will disrupt the dream and wake them up instead.
Induce lucidity in others upon accessing their dreams.
With practice and time, shape the Dreamscape to her will.
[/hider]

[hider=Conviction]
[b]SURREAL (In-Domain, Extreme):[/b] Sirna blesses Teefee with the title of Dreamwalker, along with the abilities that come with it.
 -3 Conviction
[/hider]