She didn't know how long it had been since her vision had faded to black. An ache throbbed in her head and her memories were jolted and jagged. She tried piecing together whatever she could, but her mind was so foggy that everything continued to be just out of her reach.
Her eyes peeled open and was greeted by the morning rays dancing across her ceiling. No, not her ceiling. This was a different ceiling. She didn't recognise it, it was old with cracks and water marks. The air was humid, dancing across her skin like a ghost brushing against her. Her consciousness reached out trying to locate Morpheus, but she couldn't feel his familiar aura that she had grown accustomed to over their century spent together. It was unnerving - the silence.
A rattle of cups from just outside the door drew her attention, a small curse of distress left the unknown beings mouth as the door swung open. A head of golden curls entered into the room, a tray of tea and sweet cakes grasped tightly in their shaking hands. Their movements were jolting and jagged just like her memory. They moved like a mouse waiting for the cat to pounce.
"Good. Good, you're awake." Their voice was like honey, mellifluous to the ears and yet their was maddening lilt to it. It was similar to the voice of someone who had not had contact with others in a long, long time.
"I was afraid that I had knocked you out to hard. Scared you wouldn't wake up." The tray clattered onto the bed, hitting her legs as it was thrust into her. "But no, no. Here you are, awake and well." The man poured the tea, drops of it splashing onto the tray with the shake of his hands, he paused. "You are well yes? I would be ever so upset to see you unwell. I have waited ever so long for this day."
His eyes gazed at her in hope. In hope of what? She didn't know, but he looked as if his entire lively hood rested on her shoulders.
"What day?" Her voice was scared, but she tried to hide it with faux confidence. Maybe she could trick herself into feeling confident.
"Why the day another flightless joins me of course. You don't have wings anymore, just like me." She noticed the stubs on his back, deformed and poking out at strange angles as if they had been twisted. "If you can't fly, you can't leave me." His smile dropped, "You won't leave me. I wont let you."
His face had hardened and they shake in his hand diminished as they turned white from the grip he held on the porcelain teapot. It shattered in his hand.
"Oh no, how did that happen?" He scurried off leaving Astraea confused as to what was going on, her memories were still failing her. She could last remember being dropped off in the park by Morpheus, she could still feel the linger of his lips on her forehead. It burned like it would scar her flesh - maybe it had. He had left her in the park. She remembered that. But what happened next?
She had turned at a voice. The man's voice. He had been stood there watching her, his amber eyes staring at her, they looked almost demonic - similar to Crowley's. Yet, she didn't find any of Crowley's warmth in the man's eyes. No, he seemed as different to Crowley as ice to fire.
Who was he? How had he knocked her out? She knew that she knew who he was. It was as if any recollection she had of the man had faded into the abyss, deserting her memories. It was terrifying, reaching into her mind in search of a memory and coming across a border, a wall, blocking her from accessing it.
She had little access to her memories and she could feel it eating away at them, like a disease had taken over her mind.
He scuttled back into the room, a dustpan and brush held in his hands, "Don't mind me, my dear. Just cleaning up the mess. I really wonder how that happened."
My dear? Someone had called her that before. Someone close to her, but who? She could feel the memory fighting the blockade trying to come to the forefront of her mind. The term of endearment made her heart swell with warmth, put she couldn't put her finger on why.
Her brother.
Her brother called her, my dear. He called everyone, my dear. How had it taken her so long to recall that? She had spent the last century calling memories of him to the front of her mind in an attempt to keep her sanity. Yet, somehow she had forgotten what he called her. It was something so simple, yet it froze her heart. Even now, she could feel her memory slipping away from her.
Why had she been thinking of her brother? Did she even have a brother? She couldn't remember. She couldn't think. What she could think about was how nice this tea was and how much she wanted to eat the sweet cakes the kind stranger had brought for her.
"How did I get here?" She heard her voice ask, but it was so far away she may well have been hearing someone else speak instead of her.
"You fainted in the middle of the street, hit your head on the pavement. I brought you to my home, to keep you safe." That wasn't what happened. She was sure of it. Yet, what reason did she have to distrust this man that had clearly helped her?
Was it so outrageous to believe that she had fainted? After everything that she had been through it was understandable that she would have fainted. She had been feeling a little peaky recently. But what had she gone through? She could just about remember a sphere of glass. Covetous taunts that made her skin crawl and a solemn voice that shook her to her core.
Morpheus.
But who was Morpheus? The name rang a bell, but she couldn't place it. Probably no one if she couldn't remember. Yet, why was her mind focussed on them if they were not important?
"More tea, Astraea?" When had she introduced herself? She didn't remember introducing herself. Who was this man?
"Yes please, Jacob." Why, of course this was Jacob. She had know him her entire life. They had gone to school together at the local primary school. Stayed in touch throughout the years. They must have been walking together when she collapsed.
He poured her another cup of tea before standing, his hands still shaking, "I shall leave you to your tea and sleep, Astraea." Before the words had finished leaving his mouth, she had sunken into the depths of sleep.
"I know that it shall be a dreamless one."
"Lord Morpheus? You have returned." Lucienne's voice startled him from his reverie. He had been lost in his thought, thoughts that he wouldn't admit were plagued with a certain angel. "Hmm." Lucienne narrowed her eyes at him, he had been distant since returning to the dreaming. She had expected he would be, having gone through a century of psychological torture at the hands of humans.
"I have completed the census you requested, Lord Morpheus." He turned to look at her."Good, and?" He wanted to return to Astraea as soon as possible, he didn't like leaving her alone in the state she was in when he last saw her a few hours ago.
"I have accounted for 11,062 of them." Her voice was clipped and formal, conveying information in as little time as she could manage.
"Wow, someone's been busy." He stood to face her, looking down on her shorter form, he was still imposing but not as much as he was whilst he was sat on his throne.
"Yes, well... there are a handful of new entities."
"That is to be expected." There conversation used to flow seamlessly, but know it seemed stilted as if a bridge had been wedged between the two of them.
"But... Three of the major Arcana are gone." He paused at that. He had expected The Corinthian to be missing when he returned, but everyone else seemed loyal to him, who would leave his realm and then not return?
"Name them." He was more commanding with his speech now, switching from a friend to a king in the matter of seconds.
"The first if Gault. A nightmare, who I must say, I never trusted." An image of Gault appeared on the great windows - a mosaic of the nightmare.
"She is a shape-shifter. It is not in her nature to be trustworthy. Who else?"
"The Corinthian." As he expected, the nightmare had fled his realm, basking in the freedom of his capture.
"I assumed as much. Still feeding on the dreamers he was meant to serve. The last?"
"The last if Fiddler's Green." He couldn't control his shock at that.
"Fiddler's Green?" The great expanse had been so treasured. A truly valued part of the dreaming. He couldn't ever imagine Fiddler's Green leaving the dreaming.
"I'm afraid there is yet more news. Gossip, really, but..." Lucienne trailed off, worried about broaching the subject with her lord.
"Go on." He encouraged her.
"There are rumours among the dream folk... of a vortex. Perhaps you you might wish to investigate." She held her breath waiting for his reaction.
"The rumours are quite true. There is a vortex. A true annulet. The first of this era." He seemed almost excited by the notion.
"Then you must hunt for it, sir. It must be controlled."
"The vortex is a she, Lucienne. Not an it. And the Endless are forbidden from taking action against any mortal who is not an active threat."
"Yes but should the threat become active?" Lucienne's worry startled him, he wasn't used to her talking so freely with him.
"Then perhaps one of our problems may prove a solution to the other three. She is a vortex after all." And so their plan to find the three missing dreams and nightmares was hatched between Morpheus, Lucienne and Matthew the raven. Who was still looking out for Morpheus as Astraea and Johanna had asked of him.
"For now, I have a dream that I wish to go and find. More the being dreaming. I shall return in a while, Lucienne." He searched deep inside, reaching out for Astraea's dreaming from. And came up with nothing.
He had tracked her sleep since they had escaped the Burgess' estate. For an angel who did not need to sleep as much as human's, she kept to a very strict sleep schedule. He knew that she would be asleep now, yet she wasn't. He couldn't even feel the brush of her consciousness against his. He hadn't realised that he could no longer feel her aura. She was gone.
"Something's wrong."
_Morpheus was glad that he had spent so long talking to Astraea about her brother that he knew where he lived. He was stood in front of A.Z Fell and Co., pacing outside. He was nervous to enter, what if Astraea was inside, perfectly fine and just not tired? But she had been so tired when he had left her. He had already been to the park to make sure that she hadn't stayed there. This was the only other place he could think of.
He rang the bell.
Waiting for the angel was torturous as he saw a light flicker on upstairs and hisses coming from the room - he could only assume that was Crowley.
He didn't have to wait for long as the door was thrown open by a rather frazzled angel who looked like a cross between Father Christmas and Ebenezer Scrooge in his cream and red tartan pyjamas and cream night cap.
"Lord Morpheus! How can we help you?" Crowley had slithered up behind the angel.
"Astraea. Is she here?" The panic filtered into his voice despite the tight reign he kept on his emotions. He was scared. No he was terrified. Clearly his question had startled the pair as well.
"No, no we were under the impression she was with you." Aziraphale's body bounced up and down in fright as he noticed the scared look on the Endless' face.
"She was. I dropped her off at the park about three hours ago. She hasn't slept and I can't find her."
Aziraphale turned towards Crowley, grasping the demon's hand in his own. Tears gathered in his eyes.
"Not again." Morpheus' heart broke at the equally broken voice of the angel.