It was very
still. Very quiet. Very tight and confining.
Was
this what it felt like to be dead? NiGHTS knew that he was not
dreaming, because Nightmaren cannot dream. This was genuine,
then.
NiGHTS was dead, victim of the sun's relentless
beams. There would be a great uprising in Nightmare.
NiGHTS sighed. Of course, the uprising would be mainly to
decide who would take his place.
NiGHTS became aware of vague, hissed vocalizations. Ah, yes.
The humans had some sort of spirit guides, didn't they? Winged
beings that took the dead either up to a bunch of puffy clouds, or
down to a lot of fire and 'Maren-like beings. NiGHTS personally
found the latter slightly more attractive. At least he wouldn't
be the odd one out.
"There!"
A harsh voice rang out. NiGHTS waited patiently. If the
humans were correct, he would soon have new Nightmaren to meet.
"Looks like the idiot got himself knocked senseless.
Help me grab ahold."
The demons of human legend sure sounded
a lot like Reala . . . . NiGHTS waited to see what would happen
next.
"Is he supposed to be that color?" A
new voice inquired. The Reala demon made a disgusted sound.
"What was he thinking, heading out in broad daylight? Oh
for Wizeman's sake, touching him won't hurt you! Now come on!
Oh forget it, I'll take him myself."
NiGHTS abruptly
felt himself floating - no, no he was definitely falling. Now
he was being draped over . . . oooh, the itching was back!
NiGHTS' eyes flew open in shock and discomfort. "I'm . . .
. not dead!"
Reala glared at the 'Maren currently
draped over his shoulder. "What was your first clue?"
NiGHTS whimpered as each step Reala took
caused his entire body to itch and ache. Reala must have
noticed, because he halted to study his sunburned brother.
NiGHTS studied the horizon, trying to distract himself. The
clouds were a lovely pink shade, slowly changing purple, then blue.
"The sun. . ." NiGHTS sighed, thinking of a wasted
day. And if he slept all night, the other Nightmaren would
think there was something wrong with him.
Reala smirked.
"The sun is what did this to you. What were you thinking,
getting yourself stuck out here? Were you flying away or
something?"
NiGHTS gasped, then again as it caused his
body to hurt. "N. . . no. . .!" He
groaned.
Reala signalled to the two
Nightmaren with him, a red and white Nightmaren and the larger caped
Jackle.
Jackle huffed at the signal, moving closer to shade
the smaller Nightmaren. "He's a mess, let's just leave
him." Reala glared. "The Master wants him, so
we're bringing him back!"
Reala had the satisfaction
of seeing Jackle grimace, giving in. NiGHTS sighed. "Just
because Wizeman says so, huh. . .?"
Reala blinked in surprise
at the question. "Not just . . . oh, what does it
matter? Would you rather we left you here?" NiGHTS
grumbled. "No, right now I want to be locked in the
darkest place you can find and not even hear about the sun for
another hundred years!"
As Jackle moved
slightly, NiGHTS snarled. "Hold still, Jackle! I'm
in no mood for this!"
Reala smirked. "Now
you're sounding like a Nightmaren." NiGHTS glared back.
"Feh, and what else would I sound like? A
Nightopian!"
Reala chuckled as he lifted NiGHTS again.
"Well, you are partly pink. . ." NiGHTS whimpered as
he was carried home. "Sh. . . shut up, Ree. . ."
It seemed like an eternity before they
reached the unstable structure that some dreamers called a castle.
To others it was a vast, roiling stormcloud. Nightmare had no
set form, it simply was.
Reala was in a good mood for once,
teasing NiGHTS mercilessly as they entered. "So should we
rename you Pinky? Hmm . . . PiNKS!" NiGHTS
snarled and aimed a fist, missing badly and growling at the resulting
pain and itchiness. Reala laughed.
Jackle followed
silently. He hadn't been told to return to his lair, and so
stayed close to Reala, as he had been ordered to do. The large
Nightmaren grinned at Reala's teasing, cackling shrilly in time with
the smaller Nightmaren's laughing. Reala stopped and scowled.
"Jackle, be quiet!"
Jackle quieted, making a
disgusted face. The largely invisible Nightmaren made a mental
note to finish that cackle later.
NiGHTS
kept growling as Reala carried him. Reala finally reached
NiGHTS' lair and dumped him on his seat. "Oh shut up!
You sound like one of those pathetic little Dreamers that are always
bothering us!"
NiGHTS was too busy snarling at the
intense discomfort of his landing to answer.
Reala watched with
some amusement before deciding that taking advantage of NiGHTS was
getting old. He turned and flew off, leaving NiGHTS alone.
NiGHTS closed his eyes, partly in pain and discomfort, and partly in
relief as the doors closed and pitch blackness enveloped him.
Darkness was a Nightmaren's friend.
The darkness was the
unknown. The unknown held infinite possibilities.
Everything was born from the darkness. The world itself rested
within a void of darkness.
NiGHTS felt the cool stone
beneath him soothing his sunburn somewhat, and allowed himself to
drift back into unconsciousness.
Nightmaren do not dream. The capability might have been there
if not for the fact that the very traits that made a Nightmaren
successful, also impeded the imagination. Claws designed to
inflict pain could never paint a portrait. Likewise, minds
programmed to be merciless and cunning lacked the imagination needed
to dream, or even understand a dream's purpose.
No, Nightmaren do not dream. Nevertheless, NiGHTS imagined.
He envisioned a vast, rolling dreamscape spreading out beneath
him. A new adventure about to enfold.
To Be Continued. . .
