Nightmares

A scream cut through the night's silence. Karthus flew through the cathedral and threw open the door to Achlys's room. In her bed, Achlys was whimpering, letting out terrified cries that made her little body tremble.

"Achlys!" Karthus called out as he went to her side, "Shh, shh, I am here, my dear. You are safe."

Achlys looked up at him. In the pale light that Karthus's body emanated, he could see that she had been crying. Acheron circled wildly overhead, Achlys's distress fueling his own. She held out her arms to Karthus.

"Father," she whimpered.

"Yes, Achlys, I am here."

He reached down and lifted her up to cradle her against himself. He rubbed her back as she cried herself out, whispering soft words of comfort until her breathing steadied. When he believed that she was calm enough to speak, he asked her a question.

"Did you have nightmares again?"

He felt her nod into his robes.

Over the last week, Achlys had been plagued by nightmares. After the first one, Karthus was not worried; such things were natural for a child. The second night he considered an unfortunate coincidence. On the fourth night he became concerned. And now on the sixth night, he felt powerless as he hugged his terrified daughter close.

These nightmares were out of control, but Achlys refused to speak to him about them. She would insist that because she was "big girl" that she could be brave and handle them herself. Karthus would remind her that there was no shame in asking for help, but even still, Achlys would remain silent. Maybe tonight she would speak.

"Will you tell me about your nightmare?" Karthus asked.

Achlys was still for a minute, but then he felt her nod into his robes again.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"Take your time, Achlys, and speak when you are ready."

"Can we go outside? I want fresh air."

"Of course."

Karthus carried her up through the cathedral, with Acheron following close behind, and sat down with her on the ancient granite steps. Achlys took a few steadying breaths, letting the chill of the night air fill her lungs and calm her nerves. It was an unusually clear night, and Achlys could see the stars above as she looked up. Their sight was comforting. At last, she began to speak.

"It's bright," she said, "in my dream. Brighter than that," she pointed to the full moon, "and even brighter than the day. The sky is blue. It hurts to look at it. And it is loud. I see strange people like Auntie. They are all talking at the same time and I can't understand any of them. I want to ask for help but I can't talk. It feels like I have no mouth."

"I don't know where I am. It's a different place each dream. Sometimes it looks like the field. Sometimes the beach. Sometimes it looks like Helia. But something is always wrong. The field has too many plants and strange animals that look like Lamb but bent over. There is light on the waves that is brighter than the sky and hurts more to look at. The city has too many colors and too many walls. It's so confusing. I get lost and nobody helps. But then the same thing always happens."

She paused. Karthus looked at her and could see tears threatening to well up in her eyes again.

"Take your time, Achlys," he reminded her.

She nodded wiping the tears from her eyes as she did. She reached down and picked a stick from the ground and began to silently push around a pebble. Then, with a swing, she whacked it away and began to speak again.

"I hear a woman scream. It's so loud that that's all I hear and my ears hurt. Then I hear nothing. That's when I get scared, because the next part is always the worst. There's a bang like thunder but so loud that my body shakes. Then a flash of light so bright I can't see. Then, I don't know. It's so confusing. I don't know."

Achlys had begun to shiver again. Karthus wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him.

"It is a dream, Achlys. Dreams cannot hurt you," he cooed, "but they can be scary. If something scares you, you can always talk to me. Did talking about it help?"

"Not finished," she whimpered, "there's more when I can see again."

Karthus gave a concerned look.

"What else happens?" he asked.

"All the people fall over. Then their wraiths wake up. They all start talking at once again, but now it's louder and more and more keep speaking. Everything gets faster. It's blurry, like when I open my eyes underwater. I think I see people being pulled apart and twisted, but I don't know. I think I see the ocean beneath my feet, but something is wrong about the water. I think I see faces screaming, but they go away so quickly. Everything changes too fast and the noises don't stop."

She paused and began to draw curls in the dirt with her stick.

"The only thing I know is the Black Mist. I see it, but this time it's scary."

"What makes it scary?"

"I don't know. It just is. I don't want it to touch me, but it's everywhere. I can't run from it. I can't hide. I can't call for help. I try to run and I feel like I'm covered in a big blanket. It's difficult to move. And more Mist curls around me."

She continued to draw swirls. With each word, she added another. The drawing coiled over itself in a tangled knot, each line adding to the maelstrom of Achlys's nightmare.

"More Mist keeps burying me. It gets so dark that it's like having my eyes closed, but they are open."

As confused as it was, a pattern was beginning to take shape in Achlys's drawing. All the lines were spiraling around an untouched patch of dirt.

"I start crying."

She finished her last swirl.

"The sound echoes."

She drew three straight lines.

"And then I see this."

It was an inverted triangle, around which all the agonized tendrils revolved.

Karthus stared transfixed at the symbol. He knew who bore that mark. He knew who Achlys had been glimpsing in her nightmares. He knew he did not want to bring her before him, yet. He knew that even on a good day, his sovereign was a passionate man of mercurial disposition, and that those lost in the throes of despair seldom had good days.

"Father," Achlys said, "is something wrong with me?"

"Nothing is wrong with you, my dear," he answered, turning his attention back to her.

"Then why can't I sleep?"

"I am not sure. Nightmares simply happen."

"But you know everything."

"I know much, but not everything."

Karthus could sense Achlys's disappointment at his response, so he continued to talk.

"And that does not mean that I will not try to learn more. I will find a way to help you with your nightmares."

"Thank you."

"Come here, Achlys."

Karthus held open his arms so that Achlys could snuggle up against him. He hugged her closely and placed his shriveled lips on top of her head in mimicry of a kiss.

"Are you ready to return to sleep?" he asked.

"I think so," Achlys answered with a voice still tainted with fear.

"If you are not ready, we do not need to leave."

Achlys thought for a moment.

"Can we stay outside? It is calm here."

"We can stay as long as you need."

In silence they sat together, watching the moon move sleepily through the sky until, at last, Achlys fell asleep in his arms and Karthus was able to bring her back to bed. The lich spent the rest of the night in her room, watching to make sure that the nightmare didn't return. As he kept guard over his daughter, he wondered as to what was causing this plague of nightmares.

"How can she dream of what she has never seen?" he wondered.

But then remembered, this was not the first time she recalled something she had not been present for.

"Memories."

Karthus reasoned that somehow, Achlys must have seen another wraith's, or wraiths', memories. But this was not a perfect solution. Every other time she had glimpsed a memory, it was with a being she had a strong connection to and was touching at the time.

"No," he thought, "this is not the same as when she saw Horatia through me, but it may be related. Has this happened before?"

Karthus searched his memory, trying to recall other times Achlys had had nightmares. A handful of times came to mind and of that handful, only a few were instances where the nightmares were chronic.

"She never told me what she saw those times, so I do not know if the nightmare was the same. They may still be related though. Was there anything else similar? There must be something."

He spent the rest of the night in contemplation, until the answered dawned on him.

"A possible connection! I shall know in a day."

The next night, Achlys dreams were free of the Black Mist and Karthus could feel a familiar, restless pull on his soul. There was a Harrowing brewing.