The Keeper of Dreams

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Denera sat before her sister’s grave, her head bowed in prayer. Though Diora, her twin sister, was hardly dead, it might seem she were to any other person beside her sister and the people of the village of Owendae. Her body had become cold, not a breath in her, as Diora’s small hand were crossed over her chest, and sacred coins resting over her eyes. The building was small, a resting place for the sacred Keeper, and where her energies connected her from this world to the next.

Each morning it was a routine, part of the ritual that Denera would come, make flowers and wine as offering, and tend to the small shrine her sister lay within. Even in the rain, she would come, and snow, and bring what ever offerings she could and make her will known to the Gods, and to her sister, that she was there to serve, she would always be there to serve, and that her sword and skill, her magics, would be use to preserve the balance of our world.

Then she would sit upon the floor and meditate, lighting incense and becoming one with the sounds of the forest and stones, before kissing her sister’s cold cheek to leave her to rest once more, sealing the stone door and drawing the same salted chalk symbol across the stone to protect her from any evil forces, or chaos, that might try to seek her out. When she turned around, she wasn’t surpised to see Drey standing there, a left ward grin stretching across the grisly, beginnings of a beard on his face. His hair was as dark as his eyes, though his hair was brown where his eyes were a cool, sea blue. And as he looked upon her, his eyes danced as he gave a nod of his head while he leaned a hand against the hilt of his sword, the edge of hwihc was pressed into the soft grounds.

“How is she?”
It was the same question he always asked. Denera smiled and nodded her head.

“She is fine, though she spoke of a vision, worrying about a black bird carrying some sort of fragment of chaos.”

Drey’s face twisted over the idea. “A black bird? Perhaps a crow,” he said, rubbing his chin and scratching through the bristled hairs. “It is said the crow can be both helpful, and evil, depending where he is born and where you first see him.” He laughed a little. “Though I recall Diora having a fondness for birds. She knew them quite well, even into her blindness, able to pick them out amongst the whole chorus of birds in the morning song.”

Denera smiled at the memory. “Yes, I recall we used to have contests to see who could name the most, but naturally she always won.”

Drey laughed, tossing back his head as small wrinkles creased beside his eyes. “As she always does! But come, let us head back to town. Perhaps one of the wise women might have some sort of idea what to make of this bird vision. If it has something to do with chaos, we’ll have to worry about it, no doubt. But maybe they can interpret it for us?”

Denera nodded, but paused as the pair made their way towards the muddy road. It had rained all night, but cleared in the morning, and the fog had since cleared, though it hampered any of the ground from completely drying.
“Drey..”

He paused in mid stride and turned to look at her, making a noise and cocking up an eyebrow.

“You know this is not your quest. As Diora’s twin..” Dnera began, but Drey gave a wave of his hand, shrugging off her story as always.

“Denera, you know the Gods don’t need to tell me to protect your sister,” he told her, dark blue eyes meeting to hers. “I love Diora, and always will. I know her mind is elsewhere, and though it pains me I can not tell her how I miss her, I will wait for her until it is our time.” He gave a grunt of a laugh. “It’s just the fate of a man in love. I would wait until death just to be with her. And if that is how it is to be fated," he pulled his sword out of the ground, twirled it a moment before sheathing it and turning back to her with a grin.  "Then so be it. But for now,” he paused, eyes shining as a grin reachd his ears. “For now, you and I will remain steadfast and protect her.” He patted her arm firm. “Forever and always.”

Denera smiled up at him. “Forever and always.” Though as the pair of them turned towards the trail, a black bird swooped over head, and the two of them could not help it but tense at the sight.

“A black bird…” Drey's fingers curled around the hilt of his swrd. He kept his brows raised as he studied it, keeping a careful watch of where it was going. “You don’t suppose..?”

But Denera didn’t need to answer him, as she was quick to call her white horse Nightingale, and mounted her and took off in the direction of the black bird, pulling up Drey so he sat behind her as the pair rushed off deep into the shadows of the woods. Denera slowed the horse slowed, hearing a series of caws coming from the other side of some tall brush. Approaching cautiously, the pair dismounted and went on foot, parting the ferns and black-berry bushes aside to expose a small patch of forest full exposed to the sun (where as the rest of the forests remained beneath the canopy of trees, blanketing most o fit from the sunlight, except where fragments broke in through the break in leaves).  Here, an old, dead tree remained twisted, grey and solemn, all the while it's branches held an entire flock of beady eyed black birds.

Denera could hardly believe her eyes. She had only taken a few steps before she paused, noticing that beneath the dead tree that held the birds, something shimmered within the grass. Drey had seen it too. He took a hesitant step forward, a hand upon the hilt of his sword.

"Denera," he started, eyes wavering. "Be careful." he said, then gestured for her to move forward. "I got your back." His eyes searched the trees, but as usual, the forest only appeared as wild and beautiful as ever. The only thing out of the ordinary were the grouping of birds, birds that hardly seemed disturbed as Denera moved forward, birds whose eyes seemed to be watching them. Drey kept behind her, just a few paces, hands itching to draw his blade.

"Brave birds, they should have taken flight by now," he muttered beneath his breath. His eyes now searched up towards the sky, tracing along the clouds, then the lining of trees all around them. "What do you suppose brought them here? ANd do you think that thing in the grass is what Diora spoke of?"

Denera held her breath. She wasn't sure how to answer him, though as she approached the tree and spotted the glimmering shard again, she released her held breath and slipped the sword she had drawn back into it's sheath. Dropping to her knees, she examined the fragment. It glittered, reflecting the sky, but not much else around them- except her own face, whihc, fora brief moment, she thought she had seen Diora instead. Frozen, she let her eyes flutter a moment before she furrowed her brows and lifted the glass shard delicately up within her hands.

"It's almost like a mirror," she murmured.

"It's just some piece of glass, reflecting the light," Drey said with a shrug, though he too, noted his own reflection in the pice. He glanced around again, eyes ever cautious as they kept on the birds, then to the shadows in the trees, rustling now within the wind. The white horse seemed ok, but Nightingale was a brave horse, so not much spooked her. He sheathed his sword and gestured to Denera. "Let's wrap it in some clothe and take it back to the village. I am sure they have answers. If this is truly something chaotic, they'll know how we can dispose of it."

[Lion]

 The voices lingered so nearby he could almost feel the very breath of them brush against his ear.  They were so soft, so familiar, as if they'd been plucked from a place so intimately tucked away that to hear them once again made the hackles on the back of his neck stand on end.

"But you are the Emperor.  There must be something you can do."

"I have done what it is that I must do!  Nothing more."

"But he's your son!  Please, Valdric!"

"He is no longer my son..."

Ghanon awoke with a start, breathing heavily and stared wide-eyed at nothingness.  He knew where he was though he did not recall how he'd gotten here.  It was no matter, and he stood from the platform, at the Connexion Point, peering up, peering out and staring deep into the eyes that bored back at him.  He'd grown up with the same stories told to all mortal children, that the stars were the eyes of the gods.  An amalgamation of color and brilliance, nebulas and novas, quasars and black holes, arranged constellations drifting along a velvet blanket dotted with binaries and the flares of stellar winds dancing across the spheres.  It was beyond beauty, beyond base tangibility.  So much so that even the eyes alone could never truly appreciate their majesty.

Ghanon breathed in the dust of the void, contemplation enough to last the length of time and time again.  Now there was a test in true infinium, that he was a being who would exist without it and because so, would surpass it.  The Man Without Time, or so he'd been called by an unknown tongue; the gift and curse of life eternal.

And all for what?  To be spurned and hounded, dogged into submission by the very gods he challenged.  He'd faced worse evils than their power combined.  He was no longer fashioned of the same mortal sand that served as clay to their hands.  But they would soon see the error of their ways.  He'd make sure of it.  Yet, his journey was still a long way from its completion, and there would always be more than one obstacle in his way.

But if it wasn't priests or gods or their heralds, it was demon-lords and princes in possession of evil swords.  Ghanon still cringed at the wounds that poisoned his form from the blade Azaghal, that sapped him of his power.  But the fragmented memory of that moment felt jagged and cut across his palms in a torrent of pain.  He'd lost her breath, her touch, her name.  But it was a necessary hurt, consequential of what had to be done.  The shard was made his, through the agony of it all.  And that too was merely another thread over and done with.

It was time to move on to the next shard for the Mirror would not repair itself would it...  He could sense it's energy, coursing somewhere deep in the heart of the northern country, in a place he'd been before, but where and more importantly who was nearest it.  They were energies only minutely traceable, the left-over magics of a time long past, when the gods were raw and young and yet to be wrought into the tyrants of the universe.

And Ghanon focused and breathed out the dust of emptiness and felt the shard.  It would look nothing more unusual than a piece of broken glass, a tiny shard of something much larger, much grander than anyone could imagine.  Only Ghanon knew of its gifts, of its curses, of its consequences – of its possibility and it would be his.  He waited, kneeling on the platform, feeling his body ripple like water, as it always did, form vanishing, falling though the fabric of space, as he opened a portal and slipped through it, fading like the ghost that he was.

He rippled through the plane, appearing amongst the trees as if he'd always been there, a figure no more outstanding than the hide of their bark or the leaves on their branches.  He stood then, and reached out for the energies of the shard, it's traces.  Long ago, it was a piece of a necklace, a small charm given by a lady to her knight.  Ghanon could see the traces as if they were real in this day as he stood in the thicket of trees, but it broke, lay dormant in the ground where his body fell, and rotted and skull was crushed to dust, to become part of the earth once more.  It was no matter, dormant or not, this would be easier than he anticipated.

He followed the energy, would find it near an old rotted stump.  But something else was wrong.  Of course it would be too easy.  Ghanon growled internally and felt his body melt away into the trees, a small squirrel, no larger than a gauntlet, perched up high in the branches and scurrying out to get the best view.  He looked out, and watched curiously as two figures talking amongst themselves found themselves at the base of the tree, surrounded by black crow that didn't even flinch at their presence.  He was silent, speculative, merely watching as they found what it was he sought in the dirt at the base of the stump.  Hm, he thought. They would find it first.  It is the way of things.  Nothing can ever be so simple.

But nothing worth it's effort was simple.  He of all people took a hard lesson from that.  And sometimes the ends really did justify the means.  As he listened to their conversation, he focused his beady eyes on the shard, eating nothing more than an acorn to preoccupy himself, gathering what words he needed most – a village, no doubt a settlement nearest here, Diora, a person of relation, obvious importance to the female that held the shard.  And the male...he was more likely disposable and of no real concern, but despite his evaluation, Ghanon knew better than to take anything for granted.

As the pair left with his desired object, he turned his eyes back to the crows that watched them leave.  He almost wanted to laugh at their old superstition.  Of course, black birds and black creatures were filled with black hearts and evil intent.  If only the world was so black and white, and if only the fools here had thought of nothing more of the shard and discarded it where they found it.  But the gods of course always made their stories weavingly so that even the strangest coincidences were of the most pertinent importance.  Chance of course, would have it that these strangers would chase black birds in the middle of the forest because of old tales and superstitions.  He smiled inwardly at the thought.  The game was on.

As they vanished back the way they came, Ghanon followed them, scurrying along the ground, hiding in the brush, trailing along as nothing more than a piece of the life of the forest around them, following them to their village.

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The pair moved along, heading back towards Owendae; a small village nestled at the base of a mountain side with grass and stick huts, and smoke curling out from the center holes. The pair was mostly silent, for it seemed there was not much to discuss until they brought the shard to the old blind woman of the village. She was wise beyond her years, and though she hadn't been blind for most of her life like Diora had, she had settled into her blindness in her old age, growing comfortable with it, so when her milky eyes raised to stare at the pair, Denera knew the old woman could see them.

"So you say Diora prophetized some sort of evil fragment, found by black birds, so you find this?" The old woman turned it over in her hand, frowning as she moved over and placed it inside a plain, clay bowl and moved over towards the fire. "Come, we will see if the smoke has anythign to say to further guide us." 

Drey and Denera exchanged glances before taking a seat around the fire. THe old woman swetp her long hair back, pinning her long braid atop of her head. And from deep within she began to sing, the words coming out in rolled tongues as she  took another bowl full of dust and dried seeds and flowers, and began to sprinkle it around the fire as she sang. It wasn't until the last handful was in herhair did she turn to the flames and toss it in, and the fire took a light, going white hot for a brief moment, and Denera was sure she had seen her sister.

"Diora! I saw her! She is here and speaks to us int he flames!"

The old woman nodded sagely, still humming and now turning the clay bowl over like a  tambourine, and began to drum her old, gnarled fingers over it carefully.

"IF the vision rings true, then this is what Diora has spoken of." ANd the old woman reached up to a procure a clay jar and drew out a piece of chalk, which she held over the shard and crumbled the chalk bits over it so it fell upon it like gritty dust. Then, setting the bowl with the mirror shard nearer to the fire, she walked over and took both Denera and Drey's hands and squeezed them.

"It might take many moons to have a vision of truth. Why don't you go report to Diora you've found what she seeks, but we need more answers. In the meantime, I will keep this hut protected, so that whatever chaos lurks within does not get out."

[Lion]

No superstition went unpunished, as the saying rolled in his mind.  Ghanon lingered on the edge of camp, trying to reach out to the shard.  Strange rituals, going through the motions to try and find whatever secrets the shard had.  He could laugh again, but that might be quite strange to see a squirrel cackling so.  He lingered on the edge of the hut, inconspicuous and hidden within the grasses of the village, where well trodden paths seemed so few and far between.

As the pair left the hut of the wise woman, Ghanon peered at them with beady eyes, clearly hidden just behind a jar and pot positioned beside the flap.  When they were out of view, Ghanon maneuvered from his place behind the clay pots and felt his form waver like the surface of water, feeling it shift and change so that he appeared as a man, ordinary of the flesh, aged with grayed hair cut choppily on his head, in hunters garb with a hand holding onto his side.  Blood seeped out from between his fingertips and his face winced in pain as he hobbled toward the entrance of the hut, finally collapsing through the door and making the old woman jump within, startling her.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see the shard reflecting by firelight, but Ghanon kept his face in the crook of his arm, his face old and ragged, the wound deep and grave.  "Help me," he murmured to the woman with what energy he had left.

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The old woman gasped, startled at the sight of the bloodied man collapsed on the dirt floor of her hut.

"Here, let me see those wounds!" she said firmly, crouching beside him, her brow furrowing over how much of him was covered in blood. "What happened to you, friend?"

OOC: not sure if you wanted D & D to show up yt so I post something short 8D

[Lion]

The hunter groaned as the old woman crouched at his side, insoecting his ghastly wound.  He purposefully shuddered, Feeling his skin grow cold and clammy even as a fever took his brow.  "A creature," he whispered to the wise woman.  "In the forest.  Attcked me...  This was the nearest...village."  The old woman helped him inside and laid him on a leather mat as she peeled away the bloodied leather of his armor.

[visualspice]

The woman paled. " These wounds look bad. Please, just lay there. Shh shh, you do not want to put strain on the wounds." she frowned and peered into his eyes, smoothing back his hair.
"Please, rest up here. I must inform the rest of the town. If there is a threat nearby, we need to be prepared, lest it show up here." She wrung her hands over that idea. "How large would you say it was, and would you be able to describe it to me in detail, so I know what we are dealing with?"

[Lion]

Without herbal sedatives, the man's eyes just rolled back into his head and his skin took to beading around his brow, even after the old woman wiped it away.  His head rolled side-to-side and he took heavy breaths.  "Large, like a bear, but something was different...had...monstrous teeth, like a shark, clawed the ground...and me," he said.  "It was far from here....I think.  I crawled in this direction on a longshot.  I don't think...it is nearby, but I don't know..."

[visualspice]

Something seemed... off. Even Drey sensed it too, as Denera stared back towards the hut where the elder was kept.

"We should check that out. I know that look, Denera. Come on." And the two made their way with haste to the hut. Drawing back the curtain, both stood in alarm to see a bleeding man upon the floor. The old lady was dabbing a cloth at the man's head.

"Oh, Denera, thank goodness you are here. Please, come help me. I need you to mix me herbs with water to help with the sweating. The junja berries and kakum weed are over there." She gestured, and Denera obeyed, popping open the jar lids and taking out the correct amount, without any effort at all. It was second nature to her, and soon she was slipping it into a clay cup wth water and swished it around, mixing it thoroughly before moving to the man's side.

"Here, you ought to drink this," Denera said, keeping the man's head cushioned on her lap. "Now shh. be sitll, and simply drink."

Drey furrowed his brows and asked, "What happened?" And when the old woman explained, he placed  ahand to his sword. "Shall I scout the area." And she only nodded.

"Yes, and do warn the village. Get the other men to come with you. Do not go alone."

Drey nodded, then turned to Denera, placing a hand to her shoulder before he departed.

[Lion]

[Thought it said something about sedatives.  Missed the sweating part.  Edited.]

The hunter laid prostrated on the map and turned his gaze to the young pair that came into the hut.  It was the young woman's turn to tend to him, pulling his head into her lap, and swishing a concoction.  But the hunter shook his head and turned his mouth away from her hand.

"No, no, I don't ...want it," he choked.  But some of the concoction and already found it's way into his mouth and he was coughing and swallowed anyway.  He looked up at the woman the elderly lady called Denera, catching her into his mind with the warm brown of his eyes.  Traces of red lingered there that swirled like the heart of a galaxy somewhere far away.

"Jasparweed," he breathed.  "In my bag.  Mix it with the poultice to stop the bleeding."

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OOC: Awww,  I was contemplating changing my post so that it WOULD be a sedative, forcing Ghanon to sleep nyahahaha
but that's all good <3
and sorry for the delay in posting >.>
So many threads @_@
A lot of ppl got interested inthe connlaoth civil war, so been preoccupied with that~
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Denera nodded, and gestured to Drey, who fumbled through the bag with his large hands. He found the weed and handed the pouch over to Denera, who rechecked it through smell before sifting some into the mix.
"There," she smiled down at the man. "Now drink up."

[Lion]

Ghanon drank the solution, his hand wavering over the mixture and transferring water discreetly to dilute it as he took his lips to the mixture.  He coughed hard, face red and laid back against the mat.  "Thank you," he breathed.  "I'll feel much better I'm sure,...Denera...was it?"

[visualspice]

Denera nodded, smiling once he took it in.
"You seemed to have suffered greatly. But we're here to help. Hopefully that creature will do you, and anyone else, no more harm." She looked up at the old healer woman, who was frowning and pacing about.

"Drey, go gather the other men and have them scout the perimeter at once. Denera and I will stay here to tend to this gentleman."

"But should I not go check on Diora? To ensure she is safe?" Denera asked.

The woman thought it over, but shook her head.
"No, let her rest. No one can disturb her while shes slumbers. The charms and chalks will ward those off that are evil in spirit. She will be fine." Then she smiled down at Ghanon. "I do not believe we've gotten your name?"

[Lion]

He coughed and let his eyes glaze over, feeling them roll to the back of his head.  At the mention of his name he squinted at them and frowned.  "Ander," he groaned.  "My name is Ander.  Please, just...let me rest.  I'll be fine."

[visualspice]

The women nodded. Drey had already long since left, so the pair worked diligently to ensure Ander was comfortable. After a time, Denera took watch outside, staring off into the forest as the men disappeared to scout the area as she twirled a piece of tall grasses between her fingers.
So strange.. she wondered if this sort of happening had to deal with the peculiar mirror like shard she had found.

"Is something wrong, Denera?" the old lady asked.

Smiling over to her, she shrugged. "I can't help but wonder if this poor man is suffering in consequence to Diora's vision."

The old woman smilea nd placed a hand upon her shoulder.

"I think the only problem might be that you think too much. But you should be able to inquire to her come the marrow. For now, do not burden yourself so. These sorts of things happen."

"Yes, but this creature seems most foul. Do you not beleive it migh tbe connected with what Diora was warning us about?"

The old woman drew in a careful breath.
"That is not my place to say. But there is no sense in us worrying over it when Diora will be able to guide us." ANd she took Denera's hand and squeezed it light.

[Lion]

The man called Ander sat up when he was sure the pair that tended to him had left.  There was an unusual light to them, in this little village, but he couldn't allow himself to be concerned with it for long.  He remembered why he'd come here, to claim the shard and be gone before they knew it.  He sat up, moving as if the wound did nothing to irritate him as he moved to where he'd last seen the shard by the fireplace, wrapped in a piece of leather.

Ghanon looked at it and slowly unwrapped it and saw the sliver of ancient glass there, dusted and spotty and with the vague fingerprints upon where he'd seen the young woman Denera touch it.  He grasped it's smooth surface before moving over and tucking it discreetly away underneath his shirt.  He looked down at his hands, placing them in front of him just inches apart.

He blew air into his palms and with that produced an identical piece of glass to that of the shard, same size, shape, even the cracked curvatures and fingerprints before place it gently in the leather clothe again, and laying back down on the mat, closing his eyes when he heard voices approaching the hut again.

[visualspice]

It was the old woman who returned this time, smiling warmly at him.
"How are you feeling, Ander?" Though she was no fool, she noticed something was off about the shard and wrapped leather, but didn't let her eyes linger upon it for too long, nor let it show on her face as she took a seat near to him.
"I sense an air of change about this village. Perhaps your presence here is just the beginning."

[Lion]

Ander looked over to the old woman with glazed eyes, his skin having taken a proper sweat to it from the heat within the tent.  "I would hope not," he murmured between strenuous breaths.  "I'm just a hunter.  But I guess any hunter risks themselves with...their own vocation.  A beast can just as easily kill a man as a man would kill it.  I should have been more careful."

[visualspice]

She gave another smile, but said nothing, eyes going to the tent flap. She could still make out Denera's silouhette.
"Much has happened here within the last year or so. Many great changes,"s he began, but did not elaborate into what. "They say some sort of darkness plagues our world. ANd I can feel it, even in my old bones." She smiled and looked over at Ander. "Are you a spiritual man?" Though when she asked the question, it almost appeared as if it was her mind that had spoke, and not her lips.

[Lion]

Ander groaned groggily.  "Doesn't darkness reside in all places?  There's nothing new there.  But some find comfort in it's embrace.  Does that make it evil?  I've always found...I was a little more at home in the darkness of the night, with the moon shining down on my, the stars out in the sky.  The eyes of the gods...they say.  Do you believe that?  The stars are the eyes of the gods?  Seeing all things...  It's a lovely thought; almost storybook."