At first, there was darkness. Shadow upon shadow, overlying and beneath. Shapes of shadows flickering beyond the edges of her perception. She could sense them, the shadows of sleeping consciousness. Their dreams beckoned her, but she resisted. Not tonight. Her restless spirit was here for a reason, although she did not precisely know what. Sometimes she traversed the mists of sleep for pleasure, but tonight she quested. She felt an almost imperceptable tug on her consciousness. Something or someone needed her here.
Then, she could feel it, a bright presence amongst the shadows of dreams. A fellow dream-walker? Something of power here. Focusing herself tightly, she sent out a probing thought. A True-dreamer? It had been a long time since she had sensed one of the dream folk. Creatures existing only partly in the mortal world, born of the dreams of men. They were a dying race, unable to cope with the mundanity of the modern world. Men's dreams had grown stale. She debated approaching it, such creatures were unparalled in their ability to control the dreaming, powerfull allies--but equally powerfull enemies.
Almeria strengthened her natural barriers, breathing power into the web of etherial fillaments which protected her at all times from spiritual attack. Or so she hoped. Only when the barrier-web about her shown solidly before her did she look toward the True-dreamer again. His--it was always difficult to be sure of gender in the dream world-- aura was muted, misted over with grey. Usually this indicated a sleeping consciousness . . . interesting. She had never caught a True-dreamer wandering the dream roads in their sleep. Did dreams dream?
It would appear so, for even as she approached, she could see the shadowforms of his dreams colesce around him. They were dim, faceless things, their true nature only apparent to the one who created them. There were many, crowding close around the Dreamer. Almeria let herself drift closer, not close enough to be noticed, but trying desperately for a glimpse of him.
The dream-dims pressed closely around him, shrouding his features in shadow. Closer still she drifted, until a hideous noise froze her in her tracks. There was no real noise in the dreaming, of course, but that was it's closest equivalent. It was a scream-- pain given form. The dream-dims were attacking their creator!
Impossible!
Almeria watched in horror as the Dreamer screamed again. The dims had surrounded it entirely, wickedly sharp talons tore at him from all sides, ripping at the stuff of his consciousness. Tattered wings beat futily against the onslaught of dream-dims, his screams rebounded off of her barrier, for such things could cause harm to her very being with their raw despair. What little filtered through nearly brought her to her knees.
Such pain! This was the feeling that had brought her here! She had to help him, somehow. She reached a tendril of thought towards him, steeling herself for the contact when abruptly his dreamform faded.
He woke up. She thought in relief as the nightmares he had created began to disperse. Most vanished but a few found their way into the dreams of those who were sensative to such things. Thankfully not many. She dispatched a few stragglers with sharply barbed strands from her own barrier, before, exhausted, she returned to her own familiar dreams. Before surrenduring consciousness she prayed that Morpheus guide her way along the dream roads, that her conscisousness return safely to it's home. And she prayed for the Dreamer, that he somehow find peace.
When Almeria awoke the next morning, she knew where she had to go.
