(Lost in Dreams Part 3 of 4)
Song Choice: Witch Hunters – Mikolai Stroinski
I stopped being surprised, and perhaps that was the single best thing I'd done since I'd fallen asleep. And as the last demon lord, Slavern, fell at my feet. He cursed all gods unknown to me, as I touched the pedestal that emerged from the ground and passed from one realm of the Fade to the next. And for the first time, it was not my eyesight that gave the first tell of my surroundings. This stench… no mistaking it.
As soon as my vision came, the world appeared before me with the familiar deep peat-mud that enveloped my boots almost entirely… The Korcari Wilds, I surmised, and in front of me… sat Flemeth's hut, just the same as when we first stepped away from it. And coming from its wooden encasement, I heard… yelling? Peering into one opaque window after another, smudged with old dust and grime on the seals. I caught sight of what I thought to be someone I knew… Raven hair and pale skin—it could only be Morrigan, that much was certain in my mind. Another figure stood across from her. Flemeth. No doubt the demons saw a chance too good to pass up in the tumultuous relationship between the mother and daughter. A chance to break her.
Unfortunately for them, Morrigan's prickly hide was not the only asset she possessed, a keen wit followed quickly in suit, making certain that anyone who chanced upon interaction with her would surely end the day with a throbbing head… if they were lucky. From what I could hear outside of the wooden walls, she had already deduced she was in a dream, and that her mother was nothing more than an imposter, wearing her skin. "Away! Away with you! I shall have no more of your pestering!" Morrigan exclaimed, clearly annoyed.
"I am your mother… do you not love me?" Flemeth replied in what seemed to be a sad tone.
Morrigan stepped closer, holding up only her pinky finger to Flemeth's face, showing no fear of what her 'mother' might do. "You are as much my mother as my little finger, right here, is the queen of Ferelden!" Having made her point, she lambasted onward, "I know you, fade spirit, you cannot fool me."
Unsatisfied with the view, and entirely confident Morrigan had this in hand, I began walking around to the shack's entrance. As soon as I arrived, I unlatched the rusty lock on the door and stood in the doorway. Neither of the women seemed to pay me any mind.
"Are you more clever than your own dear mother? Surely such pride must be punished!" Flemeth reprimanded loudly in counter, shifting her weight forward and sweeping her hand across with viscous speed, cracking crisply on Morrigan's cheek, sending her reeling backward a few steps. She nursed the now reddened spot with a thin hand, and she returned not tears, not even a whimper of pain, but a serpentine smile. "There! That is for not showing respect!" Flemeth gloated at her handiwork, taking notice of the quickly reddening mark she'd left.
"That is far more like it, but it is too little too late, spirit." She replied, entirely unconvinced. She took her hand away from her face and her attention finally turned to me, with nary a bit of shock present on her face. " 'Tis you at last! Come and rid me of this vexatious spirit! I weary of being prodded!"
It was at least comforting to know I wouldn't have to explain the nature of the illusion to yet another victim. "Any idea why she's prodding you?" I asked, certain that if the demon was aware, you had already been unconvinced by the hallucination, it would cease to try and entice you further. Instead, I thought it would resort to violence by now.
"You ask me? It cannot even read my mind well enough to form a copy! Yet it hounds me still!"
Flemeth seemed almost on the verge of tears. And if there wasn't evidence enough that she was faked… "She doesn't even acknowledge her own mother! My heart, it breaks!"
Morrigan rolled her eyes and already began walking away and past me in the doorframe. "Oh, slay it, and quickly! Even the true Flemeth was never as annoying as this!"
I pulled my sword from its scabbard and set upon the demon with furious strikes, and the quarrel ensued…
-FD—
After a few minutes of heinous, hectic goring. I walked out of the shack bloodier than I'd entered to see Morrigan. She had placed herself on a musty stump I could smell from here. Her eyes pointed skyward, daydreaming, as she idly clicked the heels of her boots together. Perfectly content to continue on with the screams of the demon who claimed to be her mother echoing from inside the cabin of thin, wooden walls.
"'Tis about time. That was most—" Morrigan began, surely ramping up to berate me for doing her dirty work for her. Her hands began to turn to mist before me, as they had so many times before, and for the first time, I had seen a look of genuine surprise on her face, that quickly became frustration. "Wait! What is this? No, not this again! I refuse!" She said, her fading form jumped up from the stump, her arms now completely blown away, as she began to flounce about, shaking her head in juvenile retort. But soon the sounds of her tantrum were silenced, and the subtle winds of the leafless trees died away with them.
I knew it couldn't be but a few moments before the next pedestal would arise, and so I waited, planting myself upon the musty stump Morrigan had just recently been at. I knew there was only one left to find… Adrian. The final piece. While I crept the unnatural halls of the Fade, the spirits spoke of him as if they were aware of him—of his reputation. They were whispers, but some were clear, and those were all generally the same. They all spoke of him like I imagined a rabbit would describe a fox, cunning and dangerous—like a predator. I heard a shifting behind me and soon the pedestal rose from the ground and I placed my hand upon it… leaving the world in darkness once more.
-FD—
I materialized once again in a dark room, and I almost couldn't make sense of my surroundings for a half-second, until I rotated around and my eyes fell upon a light sat in the middle of the circular chamber, and a figure kneeling near it, surrounded by some others. I approached cautiously, I had no clue what the demons would inflict on something they considered a predator, and I wasn't keen on having it inflicted on me any time soon.
"…It was too late, son. I'm sorry…" A voice rose from one of the standing figures whose back was turned to me.
"By the time we got her under control, the demon… it scuttled the body. Spiteful bastard…" Another voice sounded lowly, almost embarrassed to penetrate the heavy atmosphere of the room.
"Although… if you hadn't arrived when you did, we could have very well had an abomination on our hands." The last of the standing figures spoke up.
"I don't care!" Exclaimed the kneeling figure, whose voice sounded more like a sob than an antagonization. "I just… I…"
I continued to step closer, but slowly, scanning the figures and searching for any clues that might identify them. I quickly realized that two were armed and armored, with the last being a robed man, with greyed hair and a wrinkled face. I recognized one of the armored men as Greagior, the knight commander, and the other armored man was unknown to me. I assumed it was simply an apprentice or pupil of some kind.
The kneeling figure soon became the object of my fixation. His back was turned to me, but I could see his hair, it was long, hanging at his shoulders and as black as coal. I could see that the figure was thin even though the robes he wore covered nearly every part of his body generously, save for his head. I saw that the figure was cradling something as I took steps closer, to none of the other surrounding men's distaste. They were all demons, surely, but they did not attempt to stop me. Maybe they feared me, or maybe they were simply so confident I would fail to release him, they didn't feel the need to waste their energy.
I caught sight fully, now. The figure was Adrian, there was no doubt of that. Certainly a few years younger and a few pounds lighter, and I surmised what he was cradling—a body. Pristine. That was the only way to describe it—not a scratch on the girl in his arms, but by the lack of a rising and falling motion of her breasts… she was dead.
"I… I'm so sorry Elaine—I… I just wanted to give you what you always gave me… and…" His sobs halted his words, and he lightly placed his forehead on hers, which was now paled and lifeless. At once, I didn't even know how to begin to approach this situation—I'd never even fathomed someone like Adrian could be so helpless in a place like this. He always seemed not formidable like a warrior—but impervious. His cunning and his planning made him untouchable—but here—I realized he was just like the rest of us. Just the same.
"Adrian…" No response, not even a sideways glance. He was enraptured—in his own pain. "Adrian, can you hear me?"
It was some long moments, as the air seemed to thicken with every passing second spent in this place. A weak word broke the silence and it was so soft and weighed down by the crying that it was almost imperceptible. "Yes."
"Adrian… this is a dream . You're being kept here by demons." I replied.
He motioned his head to the side, as if he was trying to pick up a faint sound in the forest behind himself. "Jade? Is that you? Oh, look what I've done, Jade… Look at my good work." He finished with a venom in his voice so potent a viper might blush if it could.
"Adrian, this isn't real—none of it." The only reply was a slow shaking of his head, his black hair shielding his eyes away from my sight. "Look, I need you to trust me, and I can get us out of here."
He didn't respond for a moment, and when he did it was naught but a silent nod. I imagined he didn't much care about my plan, but he would soon… if only because of the pain in the knowing.
"Adrian, where do you last remember yourself? Before this, I mean." I asked him, and he opened his mouth to answer with something, but nothing arrived. He'd realized something was amiss, he couldn't readily remember where he was—and that was all I needed to break him of the demon's hold. A crack in the wall, from there, I could pry it open. He shook his head and his vision returned to the dead girl in his arms.
"It… it doesn't matter. Nothing does. What's the point of all of my special power—if it isn't even useful enough to pitch-in when it counts?" He said, his vision fixated on the girl in a grim admiration. "Whatever it is you think you need me for… You'd probably be better served to toddle right on out of here and get on with it yourself… I'd just slow you down…"
"No, Adrian. We were in the Circle—"
"We're in the Circle Tower right now, Jade. Are you quite sure it's me who needs to remember their place?" He interrupted, quickly tiring of my prodding, and likely tiring even more so from having to talk to me.
I thought for a moment of something he might have his mind stimulated by. Something that just might break him of the demon's strong hold on him.
"Uldred." I spoke.
"What of him?" He lowly replied, not quite understanding my purpose.
"If this is where I think this is—which is the very top of the Tower—he is in this very room right now, commanding his demons and abominations to slaughter what's left of the students. All of this—in the real world. You couldn't be here at all if this were real." He lifted his head away from the girl for the first time. He was finally listening.
"Uldred…" he whispered to himself. And then again, and again, and again. Over and over again, and for a long moment I was concerned I'd driven the man mad. He stopped abruptly, and looked to me. "The Tower… Greagoir… sent us in… blood mages… demons…"
Suddenly, the closed eyes of the once dead corpse of the girl that lied sprawled across Adrian's lap shot open. And his vision was tugged away from mine and hurriedly back to the girl as he almost frantically placed her hand to his cheek. "Elaine! I… I thought I'd… I'm so sorry."
Her eyes fluttered weakly, as she shushed him, softly ordering him to stay silent as tears began to roll down his face again. "Silly boy…"
He hugged her weak body tightly, entirely convinced his love was in his arms. He spoke again, barely above a whisper. "We'll leave here—I promise. I've got a plan—Vincent's…" He trailed for a few seconds into a volume I couldn't perceive. "…and we'll build a home, just like you wanted."
She smiled tiredly, "That's sounds wonderful." She used what appeared to be all of the energy left in her body to kiss the young Adrian lovingly, and he returned. It was a few moments they stayed like that—dreading nothing more in that moment than breaking away. He supported her back when they separated, and they stared into each other's eyes. But something was off with Adrian, his eyes did not resemble those of an enchanted lover, rather those of utter shock—so potent his body appeared frozen in time.
"What's wrong, Adrian?" Elaine asked with concerned curiosity. Her blue eyes scanning over him in silent questioning.
Adrian's eyes broke from the shock—but were quickly veiled with a scornful darkness as he wrenched his head around to look at the figures surrounding him, including myself. He scanned them without a word, that was until he began nodding to himself and nearly growled out, "Very clever…"
"Darling, what is it?" The visibly worried Elaine asked once more as she received a wordless answer in the form of two hands gripping her head roughly. She yelped in surprise, and she questioned his motive—to no reply. I heard her begin to scream and then I saw it. The smoke. It rose from Adrian's hands as she continued screaming bloody murder. I looked to him, entirely lost—how had he figured out? His eyes did not show fiery anger, as a scornful wife might have, or the sick enjoyment of a torturer. His blue eyes were like ice, nearly emotionless—cold, indifferent brutality, and without the occasional twitch of the corners of his mouth, it would have been hard to tell his humanity. I backed away and readied myself to encounter resistance from the other demons, but kept my eyes on the couple. Elaine stopped screaming as he wrenched her neck quickly, breaking it. He slowly stood up as I drew my sword and covered his back from the three other figures. He passed my defensive stance with little care and less words, waving his hand at me. He outstretched and lifted his arm to head-height, and began to drag it across the form of the room, burning away the illusion, and returning it to the look of the raw fade with ease. The three other demons quickly fled, knowing their cover was exposed. Adrian began to walk back to the body of Elaine, and he stared at the corpse for a while. Wordlessly, but with a certain sadness in his eyes. The corpse's head had two black handprints burned into its skin, and the skin of the neck warped unnaturally, a tell-tale sign of a broken neck. I heard a crackle as Adrian summoned fire to his hand once more. He threw the ball of fire onto the carcass with little emotion, having returned to his normal demeanor. The body quickly lit aflame and it roared for a few seconds and the smell was almost too pungent for me to bear—even after wandering the Fade for what felt like days. Soon it was nothing more than a pile of ash.
"H-How did you…?" I asked, struggling to overcome my awe of situation that had briskly unfolded before me.
Without ever turning his head to me, his eyes never leaving the ash pile, he answered. "Her eyes were green." He turned on his heel without not a word more as he began to fade away, seeming entirely unsurprised by the phenomenon, his arms outstretched as if taunting someone I couldn't see. He only spoke once more before the otherworldly winds took him.
"And so it is…"
"The fun begins…"
"Beroul."