Blur, Part 01 – Dreaming of Earth.
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Prologue
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It was a really strange feeling.
Floating, stars streaking past him in small beams of light as he uplifted through the Universe's way. He was vaguely aware that this was a dream, but what a queer one! Usually his sleeping mind was plagued by Dragon Fire, screams and blood – and sometimes, by a pale snarling face swinging down a cleaver upon his head.
So the sheer variation of what he was used to hit him hard.
This was no battlefield, no mountain lit up in flames, no brother dying in his arms… he wasn't listening to the cries of hunger, nor the pleas for mercy. There was no Black Speech polluting the air with its fowl breath, no taint of Orcich blades to mar the colors black.
Just streaking stars passing him by and a feeling of complete peace.
Perhaps the gods took a moment's mercy on him – he thought absently, remembering nursery stories told to him by his amad – She'd tell tales about the Valar, about each and every one of them, not only Mahal. He remembered now a particular story that always interested him.
"When Valinor moved to the East sea, the way was closed to all but the Elves – but the Lord of Dreams, Irmo, left a pathway open to his realm, a small token of hope to those left behind in Arda. All who dream may yet reach Irmo's Garden, where there is only peace and healing"
And little him spent nights concentrating hard on his dreams, hoping to find said path into the Gardens that reflected Valinor – maybe he's catch a glimpse of Mahal himself, or one of his forefathers – alas, it never happened.
At least until now.
The faint echoes of his amad's voice telling him the story had his fëa crave that promised comfort. As a Dwarrow, he'd find comfort in the midst of stone or his craft. The warmth of a forge baking his skin rough, the weight of a hammer in his palms and the song of metal hitting metal sounding loud and ringing… Or maybe even in his remaining family's presence. His cousins, sister and nephews…
None of them were there.
And at the end of the light tunneling around him, he could see a bright island, lit from within by a brilliant soul, scorching in its heat by as warm as a hug when it finally reached him.
"What if I go beyond?" His old infancy fantasies were returning in a rage. Maybe if he went beyond Irmo's realm he'd find Mahal's halls. Maybe he'd meet his father and grandfather and brother again. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe. "Should I go beyond?" Sound and light blurred into a single blunt stimulant to his senses.
Beyond the lights of the Garden the Universe stretched still. Beyond the world the Valar molded were even more worlds, even more lights – some dimmer, some brighter, but all so very beautiful.
And when he least realized, because of his greed he was beyond the Gardens, beyond Arda and Valinor, and beyond everything he's ever seen or met.
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Epilogue End.
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