-36-
"Sound and Furies"
John came out of his stupor enough to thank Victor for saving his ass.
Unfortunately, he seemed to think that he'd figured out how to navigate the gameworld on his own, and began bragging about it, saying how he and Victor made an awesome team.
When I pointed out that I'd been giving him inputs through the controller, I didn't exactly get any high-fives or 'atta-girl's - just a disappointed look and a subdued "...Ah. Thanks," under his breath.
While Victor, Lucius and Brainiac left to work out their new arrangement, John was looking in a mirror with dissatisfaction. He'd taken off the mask, and was inspecting every inch of his face - the swelling and bumps had gone down considerably, leaving only a pattern of tiny red marks where sores had broken out.
"That was Daniel you met in there, right?" I asked.
"Hrrm?" he turned and looked at me, his expression wry. "Oh, right. I feel fine now that Nergal's gone, thanks fer askin'. 'Es wot done in the two at the flat, an' made me blood boil in the hopes of drawin' me out to face 'im."
"That's good. What did Daniel say?"
"The lad's fine - he said you shouldn't worry about him, because he's bein' well cared-for." He looked back at the mirror. "I wonder when these spots are goin' teh go away…" he murmured. "I 'aven't 'ad this much trouble with me skin since I was a schoolboy…"
I grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. "Hey!" I cried. "Is that it?!"
"E uh… sends his love?"
I let go and stepped back, grabbing both sides of my head and letting out a sound of frustration.
"'Ey, I don't know wot else to tell yeh - wot more do yeh want from me?" he asked, scowling.
"I thought you were going to help me find Daniel," I said, trying to keep my voice level.
"An' that's wot we did," said Constantine, defensively. "We found 'im - an' he's all right, ent he? The Corinthian's got 'him all nice and safe in a Dreaming skerry-"
"A skerry? Which one?"
"'Ow should I know that? An' wot's the use of knowin' where the lad's at anyhow? The Corinthian's on the warpath, you've got no powers - The Dreaming's not safe fer you, luv. Your kid told me as much."
"That means it's not safe for him either!"
"Oh, don't you worry about that - The Corinthian won't let any 'arm come to 'im. Your kid's his ticket to power - he wants the little tyke to rule the entire place, with him pullin' the strings."
"That's exactly it - I don't want The Corinthian pulling ANYONE'S strings."
John shrugged. "The way I see it, it's out of your hands luv: you've got no more cards to play… an' no means a'gettin' there to play 'em even if you did."
I suddenly had a brilliant flash of inspiration. Of course! Why didn't I think of that sooner? "Yes I do," I countered. I turned to the subject of my inspiration. "Take me to The Dreaming, Delirium!"
"I wouldn't do that…" warned Barnabas.
"uM…" said Delirium, uncertain.
"You want to see Dream, don't you?"
"YeS i Do vEry muCh sO IndEEd…"
"I was put in charge of looking after you," said Barnabas. "If you do this thing, you will be a very bad girl, and there will be no treats, walks, games or petting for you!"
"oH No!"
"Delirium, don't let him fool you - he's bluffing," I assured her. "Trust me, he wants those things more than you do. Now ME, on the other hand… if you don't take me to The Dreaming right now, then so help me I'll NEVER PLAY WITH YOU AGAIN!"
Delirium nearly jumped out of her skin - which I'm sure she was literally capable of doing - and flailed her arms in a panic. "OkAY, okAY i wiLL!" She grabbed my hand in both of hers, and squeezed her eyes shut. Colored lights appeared around us.
"Oh hell...wait up!" said Barnabas, jumping up and placing his paws over our hands.
John, a little slow on the uptake, snapped to attention and reached out toward me. "WAIT! DON'T LEAVE ME!"
The colored lights overtook us in a hazy cloud, drowning everything in unmitigated madness.
We were tossed, and turned, and stretched, and squeezed, until we finally fell out of Delirium's painting and into another Gallery.
This one was a lot fancier than Destruction's - the frames and displays were more ornate, the walls were a freshly-painted color, and the floor was lined with antique Persian carpet of intricate design.
They were so beautiful that, when the nausea hit and I bent over in pain, I struggled hard not to throw up on them. "Oh god I feel sick…" I said through my hand, ready to catch any vomit that might make it out.
"ReAllY? CuZ i fEEL finE…" said Delirium.
Barnabas, who'd landed on his back, rolled over and groaned. "That's because you consider gravity one of a number of suggested options, rather than a rule."
I looked around. "Where's John?"
Then I noticed that Delirium was staring at me, her hands fidgeting guiltily. "uM...yoU diDn't saY yoU waNTed hiM tO bE heRe wiTh uS…"
Uh oh. We must have left him behind.
I didn't have any powers anymore, or at least they were blocked up so I couldn't use them; Barnabas' main skill was talking, but was still otherwise a regular dog; and Delirium was potentially powerful, but there was no telling what she might unleash at any given time, and whether it would help or harm us.
Even John's power was dubious at best - I still wasn't sure how much of it he was actually packing, or what the consequences might be for using it (or even having him around us at all, considering he was a luck-leech); but all the tricks he'd played so far had been extremely useful. We needed all the help we could get, and having a warlock on our side would have definitely been a plus.
"oH nO wE LOST hiM!" cried Delirium, putting her hands on her cheeks to show how dramatically aghast she was. "He'S goNNa crY aNd CRy uNtil thERe's nO moRe waTeR leFt in hiM aNd he'LL diE beCauSe he'S aLL driEd oUT, oR bEcAUse THeRe's TOo muCh waTer oN tHe ouTsiDe oF HiM noW i'M noT suRe whiCh... buT anYwAy i knOw he'LL bE sAD aNd lonELy cUZ hE thiNks wE doN't LIKE hiM anYmORe!" Then she stopped to ponder that over. "ThOUgh i doN't thiNk i liKed hiM eVer, sO maYbE thaT's oKay TheN. i duNNo…wHaT dO yoU thiNk RoSe? dO yoU thiNk, beFoRe hE drOWns oR soMEthiNg, wE sHouLd gO baCk aNd geT hiM...?"
I thought about that for only about half a second, because the nausea came back full-force at the thought. "No way," I said. "Hell no."
"YoU mAD aT mE RoSe? HaVe i meSSed up eVerYthiNg? CuZ i soMetiMes dO tHaT eVen thoUGh i trY sO hARdly nOT tO…"
"No, it's fine," I told her. "We'll be okay."
"I really hoped that was true," sighed my mother Rose. "But even then, I had serious doubts."
"You were right to have misgivings," I said. "For The Corinthian was on the move...
-Daniel's Tale-
The Corinthian assembled his massive army into formation, on the wasteland fields of Nightmare. He paraded back and forth before them, head held high.
I remember floating on the leash-string behind him, listening.
"I am proud to see before me an army of Nightmares, here in defiance of tyranny…" his speech began.
The Corinthian was not an originalist by any means.
I shall therefore not bother to recount all that he said to them; suffice it to say, the Nightmares were whipped into a frothing frenzy, and they marched (or flew, or slithered, or galloped, or crawled, whatever was their natural mode of locomotion) toward the castle at the heart of The Dreaming.
Cain and Abel saw the Nightmare hordes approaching their abode, the House of Secrets.
They should have hopped on the back of the gargoyle Gregory, and made for the castle - but, as he assured his nervous younger brother, Cain did not believe that Nightmares would harm other Nightmares; and besides, he was curious.
Cain got the mist going in order to better suit his dramatic entrance, and walked slowly through it , letting his horn-haired silhouette be the only visage the awaiting Nightmares could see.
"Who's there?" The Corinthian called out.
"And who would that be, asking for my name?" his voice creaked out. "And would you be? Friend, or foe?"
"I am The Corinthian. I travel toward the castle of his darkness, tyrant Lord Morpheus of the Endless. I have a bone to pick with him."
"Tch! You didn't finish that properly."
"Excuse me?"
"If you're going to use such a common, overused and cliche turn-of-phrase, you must put a flourish or a twist on it of some kind, something along the lines of: 'I have a bone to pick with him… his WISH-bone.' Or something which implies removing the subject's flesh first… heheheh…ah… say, do YOU think I sound like Vincent Price?"
"Who?"
"Not important. Silly argument, really - and I already know I'm right."
Cain emerged from the pale fog and proceeded to introduce himself in grand trademark fashion, but The Corinthian cut him off abruptly.
"Is the Dream King at home?" he asked.
"I never know where His Nibs is to be found, ever," huffed Cain. "I DO have certain opinions of my own about the advisability or otherwise of just bopping off on little jaunts while insane forces destroy your kingdom and its luckless inhabitants, but then, that's the kind of fellow I am - opinionated."
The Corinthian then asked whether or not Cain would join the crusade.
Cain, in an excess of words, said no.
The Corinthian could not harm Cain directly, and neither could any of his Nightmares - that was Cain's punishment, never to be hurt.
But his property and his brother, on the other hand, was another matter.
The Nightmares destroyed and dismantled the House of Secrets.
They cornered Abel, as he held the little gold gargoyle tightly in his arms.
"Arwk?" Goldie inquired, confused.
"You mustn't k-kill me!" Abel cried. "YOU d-don't l-love me - you d-don't even KNOW me!"
The Nightmares set upon him, ripping him apart with whatever tools they had available to them.
Goldie wandered out of the fray, dazed. I reached out to him, pulling on my own leash held by The Corinthian. "DOGGIE!" I cried, with sheer joy. The Corinthian let loose a bit of the line, allowing me to capture the baby gargoyle; he felt that it might be useful to keep me occupied with something to play with, and moreover my attachment could be used to further his control - this new pet was something he could easily threaten with disposal if I ever proved unruly.
Goldie was the third thing I ever loved after you, Mother, and the dream of superheroes I received from Victor Stone.
I bobbed along, happy as could be with my new pet, as we left the House of Secrets in shambles; within those ruins Cain cradled his brother's body forlornly, as if he'd never seen him in that state before.
Eventually the massive green gargoyle could be seen flying overhead; Gregory used his mouth to pick up the sorrowful Cain by the back of his jacket, and flew off with him.
He was bound for the castle, to forewarn Lord Morpheus.
The Corinthian was unconcerned.
The same cannot be said of the servants of The Dreaming.
Once the shivering Cain had given his account, they all rushed at once to the throne-room of Morpheus.
He sat there calmly in his throne atop the spiral steps, taking in the information.
Cain waived a parchment scroll at the Lord of Dreams. "I have a CONTRACT!" he cried. "My poor brother had a contract! I am the murderer here! I was the FIRST murderer! I have certain rights and privileges! We must TALK!"
"I have no interest in discussing the matter at this time."
"Are we to prepare the defenses, Lord?" asked Lucien.
"No need - the existing ones will serve. He will not get as far as the gates. How fares my little sister, and the girl who is with her?"
"Still lost."
Dream nodded. "That is good."
"Well. That explains a lot," said my mother Rose. "I just thought we were absolute dipshits or something, or that Delirium's touch had made us go mad...
-Rose Walker's Tale-
Because we were wandering through hallways and rooms and courtyards that didn't make any sense whatsoever. They were constructed weirdly, some seemed to stretch on for miles, and the connections between them were odd.
As the person who'd re-constructed the castle, I thought I'd have a better sense of the general floor-plan - but I had no clue.
At first I was drawing a roughly-sketched map in my head of the castle's layout, but I gave up when I realized that we'd circled back around to a previous room, in a way that should have been impossible.
I really think we were encountering a 'Schroedinger's Box'-type situation - you never knew what the next room was going to be, until you stepped through the door and found out.
I don't know how long we were trapped in that castle maze - there was no way to tell time, and even if we had found a clock, or a sundial, or seen the sun in the sky, I wouldn't have trusted it to mean anything. We were in the heart of The Dreaming - and just like how a dream can seem to be over in moments or last for days, time had very little meaning here.
What I do know is that all three of us were getting extremely grumpy.
We snapped at each other, unfairly blaming each other for our lack of progress. We complained about being hot, being tired, having sore feet, and being cold, and argued about the various levels of each (Delirium always seemed to think it was the exact opposite of whatever Barnabas and I were perceiving - if we thought it was blistering hot, she said it was freezing, and vice-versa, etc etc. Barnabas and I were getting very annoyed by this contrariness, and accused her of doing it on purpose). The one thing Delirium and I could agree on was that Barnabas' canine skills were not coming through for us; the one thing Barnabas and Delirium could agree on was that I was absolutely no help at all, and it was my fault for insisting we come here in the first place.
And god help us when there were multiple ways to go.
I swear, we must have spent hours arguing over going this way or that way, when really the problem was that it didn't seem to matter one bit what we chose. We threatened to split up over this choice countless times, until we settled into a numb rotation of giving each of us a turn deciding (Delirium couldn't keep it straight what turn was whose, however, so she kept insisting that she was being cheated).
After what I now gather was probably a week of us bumbling around the castle, our little trio of idiots finally caught a break.
The castle was trembling - we felt the foundations quake in every room we visited. We followed the tremors as best as we could, and stumbled into what must have been the main hall of the castle.
The main members of the Dreaming Crew were there, and they were armed - Lucien with a thin dueling sword, Nuala with a bow, and Mervyn with a shotgun. Cain was out in front of them, astride Gregory the gargoyle, wielding a wicked dagger and looking like some sort of cavalry general. They were facing the large doors, which were booming from repeated impacts, the sounds mixing with a horrible cacophony of shrieks, cries, and roars.
"What is that?! What's happening?" I asked, alarmed - but in truth, I already kinda knew: the Nightmares were here.
"We're under siege!" cried Cain.
"The Nightmares are bustin' in, toots!" yelled Mervyn.
"Rose! What is it that has brought you hence?" asked Nuala.
"I must find Dream," I answered. "Something terrible's happened."
"Whatever it is, it sure can't be worse than what we're dealing with right now," Mervyn smarted off.
"Ms. Walker, it is entirely out of the question for you to see Lord Dream," asserted Lucien.
"Why? What's he doing?"
"Workin' on a way to save our asses, I hope!" said the Pumpkinhead.
"Are you able to give us aid in this fight?" asked Cain.
"Well, no-"
"Then get lost!" shouted Mervyn. "You'd be better off that way, findin' somewhere to hunker down an' hopin' nobody finds you - comin' out here now is jus' plain suicide!"
"That is an excellent idea, my good sir," said Cain. "The better part of valor is, after all, discretion: I say we all retreat somewhere innocuous and without obvious value to our uninvited guests, bar the doors, and hope to hell they don't want to bother with us."
"May I suggest the library?" offered Lucien the Librarian.
"Yeah, sure - let's go in there," said Mervyn, puffing on his cigar, "an' prevent 'em the satisfaction of killin' us by boring ourselves to death first." He grabbed me by the arm. "Come on, let's go toots."
I pulled away. "I'm going to find Dream, with or without your help."
"We cannot allow that," said Lucien. "Lord Morpheus would wish for you and the Lady Delirium to remain safe."
They surrounded me, and tried to drag me into the Library with them. I fought, kicking and screaming - and, weirdly enough, Delirium and Barnabas came to my defense. Barnabas bit into Mervyn's stick legs and pulled him off, and Delirium skipped around, tapping each of them on the head and making them confused. I ran out, with Delirium and Barnabas following at my heels.
"Dames and mutts… they never listen," I heard Mervyn grunt. Lucien closed the doors, and slammed the bar down shut.
I didn't have a clue where to go, or what to do.
Then I noticed that Matthew the Raven was flying down one of the halls.
Sure that he was headed for where Dream was, I followed him. So did my companions.
Matthew noticed, with alarm, that I was running after him. "AACK!" he squawked, and flapped his dark wings faster. I picked up the pace, running after him, but then he turned a corner.
When I turned the same corner, there was no sign of Matthew, and I was faced with three directions: left, right, and forward. A crossroads.
Then, I remembered my mother's advice to call the Kindly Ones for help.
It was worth a shot.
"Kindly Ones," I said.
Nothing happened. No answer.
I wracked my brain, and remembered something from old fairytales about saying magical things three times in order to make it take effect. "Kindly Ones," I repeated. "Kindly Ones…"
Still no answer. I got pissed off. "Hey! Witches! Bitches! Shrews!" I said, trying to call them all the names they didn't like. "Vixens! FURIES!"
A three-headed shadow appeared on the castle floor. I heard hissing, and the rattle of snakes.
"Yes-es-es, my-my-my p-p-pet…?" that creepy threefold voice echoed behind me.
Listening to her describe the lead-up to the most horrible disaster of their lives - which led to the ruins in which we now were seated - the servants of The Dreaming crew were staring aghast at my mother Rose.
She had just admitted to having summoned The Furies.
"You…?" asked Cain, pointing a shaking finger of accusation, and uncharacteristically at a loss for words.
My mother Rose looked ashamed. "I didn't know," she said, regretfully. "I didn't understand what they were - all those secret rules of theirs that they didn't want to tell you about until it was too late - but I knew they were powerful, and had somehow intervened on my behalf before. I was out of options. I was grasping at straws."
"And you've been looking for someone else to blame for your little faux pas ever since," huffed Desire, with crossed arms.
Rose Walker turned to them. "Did Morpheus love me?"
"You mean you don't know, daughter? All this time angsting and pining over him, and nursing that your heartbreak of yours, and you didn't even know if your love was returned?" Desire grinned. "How TRAGIC."
"Are you going to answer or not?"
Desire frowned, blowing out smoke. "Your definition of love differs from his considerably."
"Wow, that's a non-answer if I've ever heard one."
"Not as you define it, no. In my brother's way of thinking, to love was to possess someone, body, heart and soul; to have a person lavishing affection on him and adoring him all the time, despite a total lack of effort on his part to engender and maintain that love. You, my poor child, were never his to possess; nor would you ever willingly to participate in such a one-way, lopsided arrangement."
"But that's not love," she said, confused. "That's conditional servitude."
Desire did not respond, but they did not look as if they disagreed. "You know whose definition of love more closely aligns with yours? I think you do…"
Rose took on a sour, peeved expression. "Oh, so, what - you're saying that my true love was actually John Constantine? Really?"
"YOU are the one saying that darling, not ME. Anyway, I don't really muck about with all that 'true love' nonsense - ALL love is true love, except that which isn't really felt, and is only pretended to be so."
"You do realize that the guy in question was a horndog who'd screw anything with holes, right?"
"I do, yes - that really isn't something I could ever fathom arguing against."
"Then how is he even in this conversation about love? The only thing HE loved was the idea of getting into my pants."
"Only?" Desire echoed, fluttering their lashes, "Oh my dear, that was FAR from the 'only' thing John Constantine desired."
"Oh yeah? And what else did he want?"
More languid smoke, drifting out from puckered red lips under jewel-toned tawny eyes. "John Constantine wanted EVERYTHING," they said.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Just exactly that - everything. John wanted to wake up next to a beautiful naked woman every morning, and make love to her every evening, and afterwards fall asleep in her arms. He wanted her to scream at him sometimes, and cry herself ugly, and tell him what an awful heartless bastard he was, so that he could have the opportunity to wholeheartedly agree; he wanted to PROVE how much of a bad, selfish little boy he was, to be forced do something to earn her forgiveness and win back affections, all the while fearing that he'd already lost her forever; he wanted to eat with her and talk with her and argue and laugh and play and most of all SUFFER.
Ohhhh, he loved suffering you know... he wanted nothing more than to wallow in it, like a joyful little piglet rolling around in mud… his suffering, or someone else's suffering, it didn't much matter; more importantly, he wanted COMPANY in that suffering. That's how he most liked to show love - by hurting and suffering for some person or other, someone he thought was truly worth it.
And as much as he didn't want to admit it, to himself let alone to any others, he DESPERATELY desired a family to call his own. He was scared silly that he would be a terrible father, like his own father before him, and so he tried to deny himself any opportunity to indulge himself… always avoided children, saying he was no good with them. But the poor boy just couldn't help it: he'd instantly attach himself to any woman or child that he thought needed him in the slightest.
When he learned you were pregnant, that REALLY excited him. It wasn't his fault - he hadn't knocked you up, hadn't asked you to produce a child for him; but there you were, pregnant and alone. It was perfect: he could rationalize that he had 'no choice' but to step in there and play the role that he had been supposedly dreading all along. After all, if HE didn't help take care of you and your child, who would?
In fact, he began fantasizing about growing a few more with you almost immediately. Isn't that right, Daniel?"
"It is," I admitted, though I was far from comfortable with being dragged into this, particularly on Desire's behalf.
As expected, Rose's attention was turned my way. "Which one do YOU think I should have been with, then?"
"I may be slightly biased on this matter - Morpheus was my father; Constantine was not. Had you not 'been with' my father, I would not be who I am."
"Oh, I'll take slight bias any day," she said, waving off my concerns, "I think you're still more capable of being objective than most. Which is better?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"Morpheus' love is formed of shared desires, and Constantine's is formed of shared pain," explained Desire, eager to speak on a subject they knew so much about. "Morpheus was obsessively loyal, meticulous, and honorable to a fault; he liked to think of everything as a puzzle, just waiting to be solved. But he was also a snobby, self-righteous perfectionist, and would simply abandon anything that was too inconvenient or broken for him to fix.
Meanwhile, Constantine was impulsive, reckless, destructive; for him trouble and danger was like catnip, while peace and comfort made him squirm. He really wasn't keen on the pursuit of positive aims at all, as he didn't believe in them. But at least HE'D never lose interest or abandon you - not for reasons of YOU being too troubled or messy for HIM, anyway. For all his frustrated idealism, he accepted brokenness - he would be more than willing to sit and listen to you scream in agony for hours, while he did nothing.
So in other words, both are equally good - and when one is presented with one or more equally good options, I say do them all."
My mother Rose looked at me. "Do you agree, Daniel?"
"Perhaps."
"Don't say 'perhaps'! Don't you even! That's your father's stupid word, and he used it way too much - he thought it was just SOOO wise and clever, but it's really just a cop-out for when you don't want to commit to an answer. It's basically the same thing as saying nothing at all - only WORSE! It doesn't MEAN ANYTHING!"
"Alright," I conceded, "my honest opinion is that it doesn't matter: what is done is done, what you feel is what you feel; and whatever it is you decide to do going forward, it is the right decision for you to make."
Rose Walker stared at me inscrutably for many moments. "That's a really shitty answer, Daniel," she said, and then sighed, "but at least it is one."
"If we may return to the story at hand..." I said.
"Right," said my mother Rose. "So I was facing off with the three monstrous 'Ladies' that I'd met before, in Wanda's dream...
-Rose Walker's Tale-
"I was told to call upon you for help," I told the three-in-one.
They didn't look anything like the three witches at the moment - they looked like monsters from ancient Greece, with snakes for hair, togas made of ashen shrouds, and armor made of bones. Their eyes glowed as if reflecting moonlight, and their teeth were sharp. They held a chain of scorpions between them.
"Help?" echoed the youngest one, whose skeletal armor included skeleton-hands cupping her breasts. "Who told you that we would help you?"
"We do what we have to do," said the round-bodied one, sharpening her butcher's knife with relish.
"It's all anyone can do," said the oldest witch, scratching flakes off of her dry, sagging flesh with freakishly long, curving nails. "We don't bother anyone."
"We HATE to be a bother," moaned the youngest, who I'm still going to refer to as Cynthia.
"Not unless there's a good reason to bother somebody," said the middle-aged Mildred.
"WELL? Come, out with it now," rasped the crone, Morrigan. "Why have you bothered us to come here, with your rude little summonings?"
"I need help finding Dream, and rescuing my son."
They cackled.
"We don't rescue, my posset," chuckled mirthful Mildred.
"We AVENGE," rasped Morrigan.
Ah, okay - so that was their game. Time to switch tactics, then. "There's a… man," I said. "I want to do more than bother him - I want to destroy him."
"Why-y-y," they said at once, in unison.
"He stole my son, and is going to kill… my lover." I sort of tripped over that last word-description, since I wasn't sure exactly what to call Morpheus at the moment, and what I chose didn't sound right.
More cackling. My face flushed, thinking they were mocking my awkward choice of words.
"You called upon The Furies, did you not?" asked the maiden Cynthia.
"I see nothing for us to be furious about," sniffed old Morrigan.
"You see, my gosling, the ladies you're seeking can really only avenge blood-debts," explained Mildred.
"It's in the rules," purred Cynthia.
"It's the OLDEST rule of all," echoed Morrigan.
My heart sank. "So… you'll only kill him if he kills one of them first? Is that what you're saying?"
"Pteuh!" the old witch spat. "No."
"We don't kill, my little smelfungus" said Mildred. "We can't."
"You aren't listening," hissed Morrigan. "Open up those ears of yours. I told you once, girl, and I shan't do it again: we AVENGE."
"Even if he HAD killed your son, we could do nothing about it," shrugged Cynthia.
"But wouldn't that be a blood-debt?"
"No, dearie, it's not," sighed Mildred.
"We punish those who spill FAMILY blood," said Morrigan.
"But Daniel is family," I insisted, "and Morpheus… could be, at some point. And The Corinthian WANTS to be, in his own sick way… he's kinda Morpheus' son, and he's basically acting like a father to Daniel... so really, they ARE family. Right?"
"Ehhh… your blood, not his," corrected Morrigan. "We care nothing for this 'kind of, sort of, basically' mush - we only care about DIRECT blood-ties."
"Had he killed his OWN son, then it would be different," said Mildred.
"Then, if we wished, we could hound him," said Morrigan eagerly. "We could destroy his life and his world, hound him to the grave and beyond."
I felt defeated. "...Oh. Okay… well then, sorry to waste your time."
"Coming here was not a waste, daughter."
"What?"
Mildred licked her lips. "There's someone here who DID kill his son."
Cold dread.
Morpheus.
Before I could say or do anything to try and stop them, they flew off into the shadows, cackling like mad.
"What an idiot I'd been!" my mother Rose exclaimed. "I should have known not to call upon those women - they never did explain their own rules."
"It did not matter, ultimately," I assured her.
She sighed. "I know. That's what your father said." She paused. "But don't spare my feelings, Daniel - tell me what the 'Ladies' did."
Reluctantly, I did… "Contrary to my father's belief that they would never reach the gate...
-Daniel's Tale-
The Corinthian's army routed straight through Dream's defenses, barrelling over every trap and trampling over any dream-entity that stood in their path.
They conquered all the Skerries, and laid waste to Fiddler's Green.
Why were they so successful?
Because The Kindly Ones flew ahead of our army, and slew every one of Dream's most powerful loyalists.
When the Nightmare army came to the Gates of Horn and Ivory, they at last met their match: for the Guardians of the Gates were strong, and would not be easily felled.
Moreover, the Ladies were nowhere to be seen.
The Griffin, the Hippogryph, and the Wyvern came down from the stone archway where they had perched for time immemorial, and did battle against the Nightmare army.
As they crushed the invaders and burned them with fire, The Corinthian could do nothing - he was not skilled enough in the use of the Ruby Dreamstone, or the Dreamsand, to be able to subdue or unmake them. He dared not even make himself known to them, lest the combined efforts of all three focused on his destruction should prove fatal to him.
Yet, all at once, the guardians ceased fighting; they looked as if they were listening to a voice from beyond, then backed down and withdrew with bowed heads. The castle doors opened of their own accord, wide and inviting.
The Corinthian suspected a trap was being laid for him, and held back to see what would happen to his vanguard as they entered the castle.
The Guardians remained composed, as the frontline Nightmares stepped warily within. Meeting no opposition, they flooded in triumphantly.
The Corinthian and I followed, surrounded by a protection circle of elite Nightmare soldiers many bodies thick. He aimed a shot from the Ruby at the first of the Guardians we approached, the Griffin, and the two sides of him - bird and beast - tore apart and decayed before our eyes.
The Hippogryph and the Wyvern reacted with horror and rage respectively, but did not make a move. The Corinthian was satisfied - for whatever reason, the Dream King had ordered them to stand down and let the Nightmares through, come what may.
But at least he'd gotten to knock one of the Dream King's pieces off the board. That felt good.
Behind him, he heard the cackling of the Ladies as they did away with the other two.
Ah, he thought, There they are.
Matthew the Raven flew to the Dream King's throne, and alighted on his armrest, breathing deep, panicked breaths. Dream was deep in thought, resting his chin on his hand.
"You are distressed, Matthew?"
"Yeah, just a little - look, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the Nightmares got to Fiddler's Green. They straight-up KILLED him."
"Yes, I know." A pause. "Mm. And they just killed the Guardians at the Gate…"
"HOLY SHIT! If that's so, then why aren't YOU distressed?"
"Would it help matters if I was?"
"Maybe not… but it's just the PRINCIPLE of it, y'know? Those were good guys. Loyal. They didn't deserve this to happen to 'em."
"None of you deserve it."
"Uh… does that mean that we're all toast, Boss?"
"I do not know what it means. I do not know what will happen."
Morpheus stared off distantly.
"Penny for your thoughts, though?"
"You have no pennies, Matthew."
"Yeah, well, all the same - I'd feel a helluva lot better if you'd let me in on the plan to keep them out."
"I have no such plan."
"WHAT?!"
"It's true. I have decided to let them in." He turned to face the stress-molting Raven. "You forget: this is MY castle."
Once past the gate's threshold, The Corinthian realized that he was alone, save for me on my tether-string.
There seemed to be an endless, branching hallway stretched before him.
He grinned. "Ah… very good, Dream-Lord. Very clever…"
My mother Rose looked glum. "Yeah… we found out how 'clever' Morpheus was trying to be… but since he hadn't let me on his brilliant plan, I bumbled right into it…
-Rose Walker's Tale-
We heard footsteps and saw shadows approaching.
I whispered to Delirium and Barnabas, gesturing: "Turn around - we've gotta go back!"
"uM nO iT's okAY… i'LL mAkE iT sO thEY cAN't sEE…"
Delirium held out her hands and spun around, flinging colored lights around that formed a bubble around us.
At first I thought she'd royally screwed us, because we looked more conspicuous than ever - we were literally surrounded by flashing neon lights - but apparently the three of us were the only ones who could see the trippy disco ball that shielded us from view.
The Corinthian emerged from the hallway, leading Daniel by a string-leash - I felt really angry seeing that.
I looked at the child who was my son. I wanted to call out to him so, so badly, but I knew that if I did we were all doomed.
And then, to my horror, Daniel looked straight at me.
Like he could see me.
"Now, just where could ole' dad be hiding...?" wondered The Corinthian aloud. Noticing the tether-string grow taut in his hand, he stopped, very close to our bubble, and looked back at Daniel. "What're you looking at, Daniel?"
Oh god. We were dead; I was absolutely, positively sure we were dead.
Either that, or we'd be The Corinthian's torture-playthings for the rest of our miserable lives.
The Corinthian stepped toward our hiding spot… but then, a shadowy figure stepped out from a hallway, stopping directly in front of The Corinthian. It was Morpheus.
I nearly screamed with joy to see him, and then I almost screamed at him to run away.
"There you are, old chap," said The Corinthian. "I've got a bone to pick with you." He lifted the Ruby. "All the bones in your body, in fact."
Morpheus turned, and went back the way he came.
The Corinthian lowered the Ruby, deflated. "Well that wasn't satisfying," he said. "That Nightmare was dead wrong. I'll have to put the screws to him, when I see him next." The Corinthian looked puzzled, but intrigued, as he followed Morpheus down the dark corridor. He pulled Daniel, who was still staring at me, along with him.
"That's strange…" said Barnabas.
"WhAT iS iT, DOggY?"
"I couldn't smell Dream…"
We creeped out, and very carefully and quietly followed after The Corinthian.
In those labyrinthine halls, we briefly lost sight of him.
I could hear Daniel's panicked breathing. "I don't want to go in there," he said, the first time I'd ever heard his voice. The Corinthian made a frustrated sound, followed by a shout: "COME ON NOW!"
We caught up to them - or at least, we should have. All we ended up seeing was a door, and it was ajar.
That's it! They must've gone through here!
I threw the door open wider, and went inside.
Darkness.
Nothing but darkness. I couldn't feel anything. I tried to call out for Daniel, but no sound came out.
This was not darkness as in shadow, or the absence of light - this darkness was thick and somewhat tangible, like smoke. It was blocking my vision, and my ears, muffling all sound completely.
But just as I was really starting to panic, the smoke cleared from my eyes - and now suddenly the darkness wasn't its own thing, it was like waking up after blacking out.
Death was standing in front of me. "Oh," she said, blinking her dark eyes in surprise. "Hi there Rose - you're not who I was expecting."
I was in… a house, lit with artificial lights. Was it night? Outside the windows it was pitch black. The house interior was a bit disorderly, but inviting - it felt very 'lived in', as someone's polite but well-to-do aunt might say.
"SIstER!" cried Delirium - and I realized that on either side of me was Delirium and Barnabas.
"Where are we?" I asked. "Where's The Corinthian?"
"You're in my realm, The Sunless Lands," Death answered. "As to The Corinthian, I dunno - Dream informed me HE'd be the one showing up."
Delirium flopped herself on Death's big green couch, where she found Death's carelessly discarded block stockings draped over the armrest, as well as a teddy bear the yellow color of a ripe banana. Delirium grabbed it up and tried to stuff it inside the stocking head-first.
"Hey, be gentle with Cavendish will ya?" beseeched Death.
"hiS naMe iS CaVeNdiSh? i thOUghT maYbe iT waS WiNNie tHe PoOh bEaR oH weLL maYbe theY're reLated soMehoW…" Delirium gave up on the stocking and squeezed the plushie to herself, until Barnabas got jealous and jumped on the couch; with a pleading whine, the dog rolled onto his back and offered himself up to be scratched and petted.
"I don't get it," I said. "Dream WANTED The Corinthian to come here?"
"Dream set up one of his rooms to be a portal into my realm," Death explained. "He was going to send a phantom-image of himself, to lure the Corinthian here."
"...And we fell right into the trap instead."
"Looks like it."
I paced around the living room, chewing on a hangnail on the side of my thumb. "What was he thinking?" I wondered out loud. "How could he let him get that far?"
Barnabas rolled back onto his paws, ending his belly-rub session. "Could you sit down? You're making me dizzy."
"mE toO," Delirium said, finding a translucent ornamental urn and throwing up in it - her vomit was water, thank goodness, and had two little goldfish in it. "LoOkie siSTer i maDe yOu fiShiES yOU ShoULd caLL thEM SliM aND WaNdsWOrTH…"
I sat down at a little table, covered with a tablecloth patterned in colorful Warhol bananas - very obviously a favorite image of Death's, for some reason. I found myself staring idly at a smiley-face mug full of what smelled like hot cocoa, and a small vase full of flowers - sunflowers, mostly, but there was one single instance of my namesake flower amongst them, surrounded by them; I felt, oddly, like her table display had been purposely set up this way in a vain attempt to cheer me up.
It wasn't working. I was feeling even more depressed by it.
"Hey Rose?" said Death. "I hate to do this to you, really, but you can't stay here. I'll send you back into the human realm-"
I jumped up. "No! I have to get my son back! I have to help Dream!"
"Honey, you can't. You're not an Endless anymore. Not even a little bit. All of it went to your son."
"I don't care! I have to - I love him!" I found myself surprised to be saying that out loud, when I hadn't even allowed myself to think it before then. "Both of them…" I added.
Her eyebrows knitted together with deep sympathy. "Yes, I know. But they belong in this world. You don't."
"I have nothing left where I came from! I might as well be dead if
you send me back!"
Death thought it over, very seriously, for a few moments. She turned to her sister. "Delirium, you and the dog should go to your realm."
"bUT-"
"I mean it. Go."
Delirium sighed, pulling herself off the couch to give me a hug. "GoOdbYE i gUEss... cAN yOU plEAse gO jUst a liTTle bIT crAzY, sO i cAN tAlk tO yOU agAIn iF i wAnt...?"
"Delirium," said Death, frowning at her. "That's not nice."
Delirium sadly disappeared in multi-colored lights, along with Barnabas.
Death beckoned at me with a pale finger. "Come with me, Rose."
Death led me through a room full of brightly-colored floppy sun hats, to a wall with two doors: one was white, and the other one was black.
"You have two choices," said Death. "Go through the white one, and you're back to your regular life as an immortal. Go through the black one, and you stay here in the Sunless Lands… and settle into your afterlife."
I stared at the two doors, finding both options equally unappealing.
"Wait, I'm confused," said Mervyn Pumpkinhead. "What happened with the trap door that would lead to certain Death? Why didn't The Corinthian go through it?
I nodded. "I shall explain...
-Daniel's Tale-
The Corinthian laid hold of the door handle and opened it, certain that Morpheus would be on the other side; I refused to go through Death's door, having received a premonition-like sense about where it led to. I tore myself out of the Corinthian's tether-rope, and made my escape.
The Corinthian, naturally, followed.
I knew this castle - its layout made sense to me, and I was able to make my way to the main hall. Within the hall was a spiral staircase, which led far up and away out of view.
The Nightmares were loudly trying to break into the adjacent Library, clawing and throwing themselves against the doors. The wood was beginning to splinter, when I began my ascent up the stairs.
The Corinthian was right on my heels, until he took his first step onto the stairs - and just as the demon Nergal had found himself stopped upon the virtual stairway to Heaven, so too did The Corinthian fall afoul of the special magicks my father had set upon those steps to guard against unauthorized entry.
"BUGGER AND BLAST!" the Nightmare roared, enraged.
I ran as fast as I could up the winding stairs - and as I did so, I felt the effects of the Ruby upon my body dissipate; I began to grow once more, with every step. By the time I reached the top, I had become the biological equivalent of a teenaged adolescent; my brain had also developed, to the point that I could make sense of the knowledge that I had already absorbed.
There I found Morpheus, King of Dreams, sitting upon his throne.
His onyx eyes of starry night met my as-yet human ones.
"Who are you?" he intoned.
"I am your son, I think."
"I have no son. My son is dead."
"My mother is Rose Walker. I was taken from her. By The Corinthian."
Dream arose from his throne to get a better look at me. There was a long silence, as we regarded one another.
And then he smiled - that hesitant smile that you were so fond of, mother.
"...Interesting," he said. "I am greatly pleased to meet you."
Meanwhile, in the hall down below, The Corinthian's Nightmare lackeys brought before their master the servants of The Dreaming crew, bound tightly with rope.
The Corinthian smiled, a little - he was greatly concerned that I had gotten away from him, but he would find consolation in subjugating the Dream King's favorites. "Well done," he told his Nightmares. He then turned his shaded gaze to the bound prisoners lined before him. "As I am in an increasingly bad
mood, would you be so kind as to tell me how to get to your master? If you oblige…" The Corinthian took off his sunglasses, to show them his eye-teeth, "I'll leave your lovely pairs of eyes in their sockets."
"I ain't got eyes!" cried Mervyn.
The Corinthian pulled the cigar out of Mervyn's mouth and tossed it upon the floor, grinding it into the marble with his boot. "No matter," said The Corinthian, eerily calm. "You, I'll make into fertilizer." He moved on to peer at Nuala. "I think I'll start with this one…"
"Ey! You leave the broad alone! She's mine!" said Mervyn.
It was the last thing Mervyn said, before the Nightmares set upon him, punching his pumpkin head until the face smashed inward.
Mervyn fell over, and was stomped to splinters by the laughing Nightmares as Nuala cried out in protest.
The Corinthian looked at the pendant hanging down from her neck.
"What's this? It looks magical."
"I-It's nothing!" she insisted, through angry tears.
"Really? Why is there fear in those tasty little fairy eyes of yours?" The Corinthian grabbed her pendant in his hand, tearing it from her throat. "Yes, I can feel the power in it… it's his power. You're going to tell me what it is."
"I shall not!"
The Corinthian raised the Ruby, and zapped Nuala with energy, filling her entire body with intense pain.
Nuala screamed.
"What was that?" The Corinthian growled. "Did you say you would tell me all about it?"
"NEVER!" she cried, her voice going hoarse. "NEVER SHALL I TELL YOU!"
"We shall see," said The Corinthian, and he zapped her again.
The other servants of The Dreaming crew watched and listened, helpless, as Nuala's anguished cries filled the hall.
As she ran too short of breath to scream, The Corinthian stopped the torture and again confronted her. "Well?! You're trying my patience. Refuse me one more time and I'll tear your eyes out before I kill you. The necklace, it holds a boon, yes?"
Reluctantly, she nodded.
"Good," he said, petting her hair. He turned then to his lackeys. "Destroy the castle. Reduce it to rubble. Kill the other servants."
"No!"
The Corinthian replaced his sunglasses. "You're coming with me, love."
He raised the Ruby high, and in a blinding flash, Nuala found herself alone with The Corinthian on the grey wasteland dunes of The Dreaming's Shifting Zones.
"Dream's castle is being pulled down around his ears as we speak," said The Corinthian. "There is no saving him now - you might as well see him one last time, to say goodbye." He unbound her, and offered her the pendant. "Call him."
Nuala sobbed. "...I'm sorry, Dream Lord…" She took the pendant in both hands, and held it to her heart. "Here and now do I call you, Lord Dream…"
My father and I both heard the echo of her call.
"The Corinthian," I said. "He's taken one of your servants."
"Yes. It seems so." My father took up the Helmet and placed it upon his head.
"Father, you cannot possibly go-"
"I must."
"This is what The Corinthian wants."
"It is what I want too."
"He wants to kill you. Must I meet you, my father, only to lose you?"
"Let this be your first lesson," intoned the voice inside the inhuman helmet. "Rules and responsibilities: these are the ties that bind us. We do what we do because of who we are. If we did otherwise, we would not be ourselves. I will do what I must." He placed a hand upon my shoulder. "I do not think I will die," he said, suddenly sounding more upbeat. "We will converse later, my son."
Dream's helmet softly glowed.
"Wait! Boss! I'm coming with you!" cried Matthew the Raven, making sure to fly from his perch on the arm of the throne to my father's shoulder, as Morpheus used the power contained within the Helm to disappear from the throne room entirely.
Morpheus alighted on the dune, standing before The Corinthian and Nuala.
"Dream lord!" the fairy cried. "I'm so sorry! Please, forgive me!"
"Do not apologize, Nuala."
"Yes, of course. Sorry. Um, that I said sorry I mean."
The Corinthian took off his glasses. He licked his lips like a hungry wolf, and so too did the tongues of his eyes loll about their fanged mouths. "So good of you to join us, Dream Lord! At last!"
"Let Nuala go. She is no longer your concern."
"Certainly." He let go of Nuala, letting her collapse to the ground.
"Are you prepared to give back my tools?"
"Why should I give you anything, Dream King?"
"Because I am their true master, in a way that you can never be; because your goal has only ever been the continuation of your wretched existence, which will be accomplished by my promise not to unmake you in return for my tools - and because you know by now that the promises I make are binding and unbreakable; and finally, because you cannot harm me while I wear the Helm."
The Corinthian laughed - a long, cruel laugh.
"I fail to see what is so funny."
The Corinthian got control of his mirth. "No?" he said, raising the Ruby Dreamstone aloft. "Maybe it's a matter of perspective." The Ruby glowed, and the ground beneath Dream quaked, shifted… and rose. A thin tower of stone shot into the air, taking Dream with it.
The sky darkened; lightning flashed, thunder rolled, and the gathering stormclouds brought with them spitting rain.
Morpheus could see all that was happening across his realm regardless of where he stood - but from that vantage point, even Matthew the Raven could see the wanton destruction that was taking place as far as the Dreaming Castle.
"Oh shit…" said the Raven.
"D-D-Do y-y-you l-l-like our-r-r h-h-handiwork, Dream-eam-eam lord-ord-ord?" came a threefold voice.
"Who's that?" asked Matthew, spooked. "And where are they at?!"
"The Kindly Ones," answered Dream. "They are everywhere." He looked to the sky. "Ladies, what powers this vengeful aspect? Who summoned you?"
Thunder rolled, but it sounded like laughter. "Your niece… your lover... your young son's mother…" the three voices chanted. "She who is, to you, all three…"
"Who're they talking about, Boss?"
Morpheus did not answer him; he did not wish to say her name aloud. "I see… and what is to be the endpoint of your vengeance?"
"Mmm… we haven't decided yet, Dream lord," purred the Maiden.
"We could let the Nightmares devour you, and leave you without a body," chuckled the Mother. "There's poetic justice in that, considering the state you left your poor son in for all those years!"
"We HATED your son," croaked the Crone. "Made us weep he did - he made the Ladies weep with his songs of things that never were and never shall be - STORIES. Rubbishy, useless stories… makes you sick."
"My third and final question, and then I will trouble you no more," said Dream, "You have hurt my gatekeepers, and my friends - will your vengeance cease with my death?"
A chorus of cackling.
"Yes..." said the Maiden.
"We won't kill you though, my pet!" crooned the Mother. "Of that we're certain!"
"So you'd best prepare to watch everything you love crumble, and suffer, and die around you first!" said the Crone as if casting a curse, punctuating it with shrieking laughter. The other two joined her, and then the laughter faded away.
Dream removed his Helmet.
"Whoa, boss are you crazy?!" cried Matthew the Raven.
"No. But I appreciate your concern. Matthew, I have need to speak with my sister." The Helm shrunk in his hand, and he offered it to his Raven. "Take this to her, and ask her to meet me here."
Matthew took it in his beak, reluctantly, and flew with it to the Sunless Lands.
"So Rose, were you still at Death's door?" asked Mervyn Pumpkinhead. "Or didja already leave?"
"She was still with me," said Death. "She hadn't decided what to do yet."
-Rose Walker's Tale-
As I stood, undecided, at the doors of Life and Death, Matthew flew in the open window and landed on the back of the couch.
"Matthew?" asked Death. "What are you doing here?"
He dropped the helmet from his beak onto the cushions. "Dream," he said, out of breath. "He's in trouble!"
I looked at Death, desperately, and became pissed off that she wasn't reacting. "Aren't you going to help him? He's your brother!"
"I'm forbidden from intervening," she said.
"He didn't say anything about that," assured Matthew the Raven. "He just wants to see you."
Finally, Death went to a coat-stand and pulled off a jacket. I was relieved that she was going to fulfill her duties as a sibling, but that wasn't all I wanted. "Death, please - let me go to him. You can at least do that much."
Death and I locked gazes. She considered it carefully.
"Let me see what's up with him first," she said. "Be back in sec."
Within an eyeblink, she disappeared - and then, literally a second later, she reappeared. "Okay, you're on - let's go." She grabbed my hand.
And within a second eyeblink, we were on the rock tower.
Dream was sitting on the edge, his back to us; he was hunched over and forlorn, his dark hair blowing in the harsh, biting-cold wind and catching the scattered drops of rain. It reminded me of when I saw him on the balcony of the Dream Castle, standing underneath his own personal raincloud.
Death approached him, standing close - I couldn't make myself move.
"What are you doing?" I heard her ask him.
"Waiting for you," was his reply.
"I've been worried about you."
"I know." She sat down next to him. "The last time we talked like this, you threw a loaf of bread at me."
"I remember."
Dream pulled something out of his cloak - it was a loaf of bread. He offered it to her. "Here."
She took it, glumly. "There's no pigeons up here."
"I was expecting you to throw it at me. To tell me off, to shout at me."
"It's too late for that, brother."
Lightning struck. I heard the Nightmares cry out, in a horrible cacophony - I looked past Dream and Death, out to the vista below, and saw that the Castle had been torn apart - and the Nightmares were moving, en masse, toward us on the spidly rock tower.
Yeah, I thought - it's definitely too late now.
"There's someone who asked to see you," said Death, looking back at me - Dream followed her gaze, and locked eyes with me.
"Rose," he said. He stood up, and came toward me.
I finally summoned up the courage to run to him. I threw my arms around his skinny frame. "Dream!" I cried.
"Hello Rose." His arms came up around me, but not as quickly as I would have expected. "Rose," he said in a low voice, close to my ear. "Why did you send The Kindly Ones after me?"
I pulled back enough to look him in the face. "I didn't," I said. "Please, you have to believe me - I didn't mean for them to hurt you."
"It no longer matters," he said. "The Corinthian has won; in truth he won some time ago, though I was not yet ready until now to admit defeat. While the power of Dream is split, the Dreaming has no master that can compete against one with two of the tools. The power has not returned to me - now that it resides inside my son, it never shall."
"Then let's leave this place… please?"
"No, I cannot - I will not - leave my realm." Dream looked at his sister.
"Which leaves me with but one option only."
Death closed her eyes, resigned. I was confused for a moment, but then I realized what had been decided. "Dream, no!"
"I'm afraid so." He cut off further protests with a kiss, a tender one - the first and only one that I could tell caused him no pain, at least of the physical variety. "I never truly expressed my feelings for you," he said. "I remedy that now: I suppose I love you."
"...You suppose?" I asked, too upset to put the bite in it that he deserved. Bastard.
"Yes," he said, standing firmly behind his non-committal statement. "Thank you for coming to me. Please live the rest of your life, and remember me."
The flying-type Nightmares were almost upon us, roaring and gnashing their teeth; the ones on the ground were pounding against the rock structure we were standing on, making the whole thing quake.
"Brother?" said Death, reaching out to Dream, "Give me your hand."
Dream reached out to her.
Where his finger touched hers, a soft, beautiful light emanated, gradually expanding outward. The light grew brighter, and brighter...until everything was awash in bright light.
"No!" I cried, as the light overtook us.
I heard my own cry echo out across The Dreaming, and then fade away along with all other sounds.
When the light cleared,only Death stood with me on the precipice.
"He's…" I began.
"Yeah. He's gone."
I nodded, the tears falling silently. My heart hurt. It felt like it was pumping black, noxious poison through my veins instead of blood, making me ill.
Lovesick.
And that's when I realized.
Love is horrible.
You build up all these defenses, so nothing can hurt you. Then one person, seemingly no different from any other person, wanders into your worthless life...
It hurts.
Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart hurt.
Nothing should be able to do that.
Especially not love.
It was at that moment that the thought first came into my mind:
I HATE love.
The Dreaming crew knew this next part quite well; but my mother did not, and looked at me expectantly. "I shall tell you now of how I ceased to be Daniel, and of the fate which befell the Corinthian," I told them.
-Daniel's Tale-
At the moment that my father's life ended, what remained of his power flowed into me.
I writhed on the floor of the throne's dais, as the power surged painfully through every fiber of my being
So many thoughts… so many memories invaded my mind.
It was too much for my human body to take, and incorporate into itself - his essence overloaded it, and burned it away.
On the steps of The Dreaming's throne, the human known as Daniel died.
The space that Daniel once occupied changed, and became HIM.
Dream, of the Endless.
When I arose, I was dressed entirely in robes of white; my hair and skin glowed with all colors to form white light itself, as befits someone who is both an ancient repository, and a blank page upon which new dreams could be written.
My eyes saw worlds - everything to do with the concept of dreaming, I saw all at once if I chose.
A few small vestiges of the human Daniel remained: I found, much to my delight, that I could see all the superhero dreams… I could see their dreams, and I could see the dreams that others dreamed about them.
I made my way slowly down the spiral staircase, to the ruin that had been made of my castle.
The Corinthian awaited me there, and the sight of me made him pause; he'd entered the hall full of swagger from his victory over Morpheus, but now he gazed up at me in awe.
"Daniel…?"
"No. Not anymore."
The Corinthian grinned at me. "You look fantastic. I assume you've got all your powers then? You are now the Lord of Dreams?"
"Yes."
I came to the end of the stairs, The Corinthian happily knelt before me, bowing his head.
"Give me the Dreamstone, and the Pouch of Dreamsand."
The Corinthian looked up at me with surprise.
"What? But Daniel… I mean, Dream Lord-"
"I will not ask again, Nightmare. You have done great harm to this
Realm."
The Corinthian got up, backing away, his whole body betraying his sudden fear of me. "I have NOT harmed you," he said, pointing at me emphatically. "I brought you here to claim your rightful-"
"Do not play games with me. Your cause was never a righteous one - it served only yourself, at the expense of all others who dreamed."
"What will you do?"
"Unmake you."
"Oh? Is that so? Seems you've underestimated me, little Endless... " The Corinthian raised the Ruby over his head. "I will break it! I will break the Ruby!"
"Do not do that…"
The Corinthian grinned once more, relishing my concern. "What will breaking it do, I wonder? Hurt you? Kill you?"
The Corinthian threw the Ruby down to the floor with all his strength.
It shattered.
There was an immense red glow.
The Corinthian couldn't see anything for a while… but when the glow dissipated enough, he could see clouds…
As well as an enormous face.
My face.
The Corinthian stumbled back in my palm. He was such a tiny thing to me now, so small and delicate - a mere child's toy.
"I had no idea so much power was stored in the Ruby," I marveled. "It's… overwhelming… and wonderful. "
"Daniel! I am your loyal servant! Have mercy upon me!" The Corinthian screamed.
"I pity you, Nightmare. I would have let you live. But you took my parents away from me; you took myself away from me, and you threatened to destroy The Dreaming itself. For that, I must not forgive you."
I closed my fingers around him, tightening it into a fist.
The Corinthian's body was crushed, and his physical form was vaporized by my touch into a smoke that filtered out through my fingers.
But I was merciful - I did not unmake him.
I allowed my sister to take his soul to the Sunless Lands, and from there to whatever afterlife befit him.
All the damage done by The Corinthian in Reality was unwritten with his passing, forgotten (at least consciously) by his victims - if they remembered it at all, it was only in their nightmares. Thus, my mother's erstwhile friend-lover Paul regained his eyes and his sight.
And the servants of the Dreaming, such as Abel, Lucien and Mervyn Pumpkinhead, were restored to life.
But the Pouch was also crushed, releasing the Dreamsand.
And, perhaps for the first time ever, Dream of the Endless slept.
"I heard a voice calling my name," said my mother Rose. "Death told me to go with it - that my son was the new Dream now, and would be fine without me. And then suddenly I was pulled through The Dreaming, toward Reality. It was like I was waking up from a dream… and yet, I awoke in a an unfamiliar place...
-Rose Walker's Tale-
I opened my eyes.
I was sitting in a chair, at someone's bedside.
It was my mother. Unity.
"Hey mom," I said, softly. "You'll never guess what's happened to me."
Someone had placed a vase full of fresh roses on the nightstand beside her bed. That was nice of them, whoever they were; I wondered if they somehow knew she had a daughter named Rose.
I buried my nose in one of them, and smelled deeply.
"I guess I came back here because you're the only person I have," I said. "I've never been able to talk to you - not for real anyway. But I love you. I really do."
"I love you too, Rose."
At first it didn't register that the sound of her voice was external, rather than in my head - I looked at her, and saw her smiling at me.
I gaped at her dumbly for a few moments, struggling to remember how to speak - and then I finally formed the word. "...Mom?"
"I dreamed of you," she said, softly.
Tears filled my eyes. "I dreamed of you too, mom."
But every night after that, whenever I went to sleep - which was now every night, like a normal person - I dreamed of only one thing…
...I dreamed a little dream of Dream.