A/N: So...it's been awhile. Sorry, real life got a hold of me for a few months. Luckily, I managed to find a beta during that time who was able to give me some advice on how the story was progressing. Advice that I promptly ran away with causing me to re-write the chapters I had posted originally. I am much happier with this version as it helps take care of a few plot threads that I would not have been able to use later. Anyway, I hope that everyone enjoys the changes.
Disclaimer: Dragon Age belongs to Bioware.
Chapter 1: Fade Away REDUX
A sky of emerald green is the first thing that I notice. The brilliant color affects the scenery like a fog, distorting my sight like a Funhouse mirror where the slightest shift in movement alters the image. Once my eyes adjust, I see winding paths stretched out before me. Some twist upwards curling around large slabs of rock suspended in midair while others lay submerged under oily water. Yet, what stands out the most beyond the alien sky and the scenery, is a city. Surrounded by tiny islands, the metropolis floats high above the landscape, pitch black against the green sky. Drawn to it, I set off on one of the many paths to get a closer look when the air begins to fill with chanting making me wake up.
Shadows of the dream still linger when I get ready for the day. The dream was unusual with its green sky and floating city, and it left enough of an impression on me that I felt disappointed that it ended so soon. Realizing that I was getting attached to what was likely a reaction to some spicy food, I laughed and brushed it off forgetting about the dream as the day wore on. It was not until I fell asleep again later that night that I saw the alien sky and landscape appear again in my dreams. I was excited at first to get another chance to attempt to reach the city, but, after a few nights, it was getting old seeing bright green sky and worn paths. Then the dreams started to change not just in appearance, but also in intensity.
I could not wake up once the dreams started-not easily at any rate. I had to rely on tricks such as wiggling my toes until I could feel my physical body mimic the action or scale one of taller paths and jumping off to create the sensation that I was falling in order to wake up. Scared of the new effect, I tried staying awake believing, if exhausted enough, I would be too tired to dream. Bad idea on my part as it made the dream seem more real. I would wake up feeling that not only did I not get any sleep, but also my legs would throb as if I had actually traveled the twisting paths under the green sky.
I did not know what was happening to me. No information turned up regarding cases similar to mine and I did not want to chance any medication that would make it harder for me to wake up. The idea of openly speaking to somebody about what was going on was terrifying. Being labeled crazy was a real possibility, so I kept silent, hoping that I could resolve the problem on my own. Unfortunately, it made my waking life more difficult. Co-workers whispered when I walked by noting that my work had clearly taken a dive from its normal quality. My parents called often wondering why I was so distant and hearing the exhaustion in my voice had them worried enough to ask if I needed them to fly down to see me. Friends shared worried looks and tried not to mention the large bags under my eyes or the way I would start at a friend's dress that was in the same startling green as the all too familiar sky.
After more weeks of dreaming, I relented. Stubborn as I was about keeping everything under wraps, it was taking a toll and I decided, crazy or not, I would see a doctor. It would be embarrassing to write down and speak about the dream, but necessary if someone was going to figure out what was wrong with me. Happy with the news that I would see a specialist later this week, I dressed in my most comfortable pajamas and settled into bed lulled by the sounds of the late night traffic. Soon, the dream would be nothing more than a distant memory. I fell asleep quickly with a smile on my face.
The black city hangs above the warped landscape as always, creating an air of mystery in contrast to the brightness of the emerald sky, but new changes occurred since I first set eyes on the city. Gnarled red plants have gown on the twisted paths along with some odd rocks with spidery veins that glowed blue. Ghostly figures that startled me when I first saw them wander along the paths now get nothing more than a passing glance from me.
Sighing, I begin to walk not caring about where I go, just biding my time until I begin the process to wake up. I had tried to sleep in the dream once, but it had…bad results. Shivering at the memory, I cannot help but notice that the dream feels incredibly real-more so than usual. I can feel the impact of my feet on the pathway and feel the rough texture dig into my skin. The dark silhouette of my shadow moves with me and I do not recall having one in previous dreams. I am even aware of being able to breathe in the air, and smelling the sharp scent of ozone. The ghostly beings I normally see wandering the landscape appear more solid than ever especially one in particular.
Standing before me blocking the path, dressed in long robes of red and gold, is a man with mousy brown hair and wide dark eyes. Our gazes meet and I feel a jolt of surprise as he opens his mouth and speaks.
"Decided to show yourself, then?" he asks, his voice strangely textured, echoing in the surrounding space. Stunned at the question, I do not say anything. The figures in the dream walk around or stand in utter stillness, but they never talk. He sees my surprised expression and smiles. I have to squash the urge to throw up. His smile is not normal, it stretches too widely to be physically possible, practically ear-to-ear.
"Not the mage, I see. How unusual," His voice deepens and something slithers under his skin making it ripple. The nausea worsens and I reflexively begin to wiggle my toes.
Wake up.
I hear chanting, whispers at first, then rise in volume. The man tilts his head, listening, and makes a noise of disgust.
"Foolish. The mage still tries to summon me as if I was a dog meant to heel at his call. Pitiful, but perhaps…" The man looks at me again, and before I can blink, he is right in front of me.
Wake up, I thought wiggling my toes and feeling my nails sink into the palms of my skin.
"You will be enough." He grips my arm, but the hold, while strong, is awkward. The hand acts in a way as if it was supposed to be much larger than it currently was. I give up wiggling my toes and begin to struggle, but the man just laughs, making my insides squirm in terror.
Oh God, please, let me wake up.
The chanting seems to reach a crescendo, the voice loud and swirling around us. The man leans in and whispers as all goes quiet.
"The mage may be foolish, but he was looking for me. Remember to keep your wits about you, girl… and be sure to watch your step." The chanting resumes, and the world, the black city, the man holding me in place shrink with a sharp finality that leaves my body fighting itself. My bones whine as if an invisible force tries to compact them into something smaller. I cannot get enough air into my lungs and my vision begins to grey around the edges. My ears pop, and for a moment, I am floating until everything rushes back at once making my legs crumple under me. Luckily, I brace myself in time to keep my head from striking the floor while I suck in damp air. All around me, I hear shouts and am glad that someone heard me while I was dreaming. I shook my head slowly letting the floor cool me down. No more. I was checking myself into a hospital as soon as possible and getting help. That last dream was ridiculous. Be sure to watch your step. Asshole.
It is only after I catch my breath that I realize that something is very wrong. I do not have stone floors in my apartment and certainly not ones with strange glowing red symbols with steam gently rising from them. The shouting that I took for concerned neighbors is in a harsh language that I never heard before. Sounds of scrapping metal point out that nearly all the feet near me are armor. Shivering, I kept my face close to the floor feeling like a child believing that if you did not acknowledge the monsters in the nightmare you could still wake up.
A hand grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me up to stand. The pain reached all the way down my neck and through my spine. I gasped out trying to grab hold of the appendage, but my nails slip on metal. The voices continued to talk among themselves, but now I had faces to identify them.
Impressions ranging from icy grey eyes, hooked nose, and soured looking skin made up the man who gripped my hair tight enough, I could feel the armored digits digging into my skull. The man next to him was dressed similar to the one in the dream, with unsettling dark eyes that made it appear that no light reflected in his gaze.
I should have sought help before it had gotten this far. I should have seen a doctor instead of trying to handle this on my own. I could feel tears gather in the corner of my eyes, from the pain and realization that this was too real to still be a dream. It did not stop my last thought before I saw an armored fist aim for my face.
Please, someone, wake me up.
A/N: Again, I am rewriting the next few chapters before we get caught up on Chapter 6. Hopefully, I can get them out within the next few weeks. Please let me know your thoughts on the changes, general outlook on the story, or if you see any grammatical errors that need correction. Thanks for reading!