Story #11: Forebodings of Darkness
writing prompt: rot; mold; "If only I could go back."
Ninjago/Paw Patrol/(slight) Dreamzz crossover (pre-DRS2, Part 2)
Summary: Morro wakes from a terrible nightmare foretelling the death of the Matriarch Dragon from Riyu's tribe, only to find that Lloyd has experienced similar night-visions. When Lloyd explains that he heard the Matriarch Dragon speaking to him about the Source Dragons being in danger, Morro recalls the night when the Blood Moon rose—and how he wishes he could go back and fix the mistake he made with not being able to save Kai and Marshal from being trapped in Nether-Space.
The unsheathing of a sword…
Blood-red swirls of Shatterspin…
Wolf Masks everywhere…training for battle…
A loud, booming crash in the Realm of Madness…
The gong of shattering clanging in a distant, mind-numbing echo, Gong…gong…gong…gong…
A stench like that of copper pennies and earthy, rotten charcoal and acrid sulfur and black mold and syrupy incense and smoldering candle wax and flaking dragon scales and wood smoke and cloves and vanilla all melding together into a warped, distorted odor of death itself…
A splintering, rotten tree…
A wounded core…
A shattered heart…
The cry of a wounded animal…
Child of the Wolf, awake! The Source Dragons are in dire darkness!
There are four points to the compass. Remember. There are four points to the compass!
Morro bolted upright, panting and shaking and sweating, his bedcovers rumpled and tangled about his feet from thrashing and writhing and convulsing in his sleep. Skye was still curled up at the end of the bed, lost in slumberland and her own wondrous dreams. The wind-child, seeing as it was only 2:00 am in the morning, buried his face in his hands and groaned.
This wasn't the first time in the past week that he'd woken in the dead of night, sweltering and trembling like a leaf from some darkened nightmare or freakish night-terror attacking him in his sleep. But this…this was different. It was somehow sharper, clearer, as if it were not merely a dream but real.
So real it could perhaps pass for one of Lloyd's visions.
At the thought of that, Morro raised his head slowly and blinked contemplatively and curiously. Was it truly just a dream? Or was it actually real?
Was he too experiencing a vision?
He hated to wake Lloyd—but the Green Ninja was the only one who'd be able to explain this to him. Twinkle, despite being connected to Lloyd, didn't share in the energy-wielder's visions, as their power was not meant for her to bear. And Skye wasn't awake right now, and for that matter, neither was anyone else. The only option was indeed to turn to the one in the dojo who knew possibly-prophetic visions better than anyone else.
Rubbing his emerald-green eyes sleepily and blowing his emerald-green hair streak out of his face, Morro scrambled out of bed and tiptoed out to the courtyard, where—sure enough—he found Lloyd sitting in the lotus position in front of Master Wu's memorial, shaking with silent, frightened sobs and murmuring incoherent gibberish under his breath as—once again—he struggled to come to terms with what he might have seen in his dream-visions. Padding quietly over to Lloyd, Morro shyly tapped him on the shoulder and stepped back as the dragon-conduit nervously turned his head around and let out a sigh of relief between his teeth, realizing it was only the wind-wielder—and not some secret intruder looking to beat the living daylights out of him and the remaining Ninja and pups.
"Can't sleep?" Morro inquired sheepishly, as Lloyd turned around all the way to sit facing the wind-wielder. Morro, in turn, gestured questioningly to the spot beside Lloyd, and the Green Ninja waved him over with a wry, sorrowful smile flitting across his face, tightly drawn with lines of worry and creases of despair. Taking the invitation, Morro flopped down beside the energy-child and huffed in frustration, a twinge of confusion and bewilderment in his tone as he did so.
"More visions…" Lloyd confessed in a strangled tone, sighing heavily to himself. "And they still don't make a lot of sense." He shook his head to emphasize his point, and Morro nodded his agreement. Then the wind-child confessed openly, "That's actually why I came out here. I've had this…"
He stood up and trotted a few paces away from Lloyd before sucking in a shuddery breath and continuing, "I've been having these strange dreams that are so vivid, so clarion and crystal-clear, so hauntingly petrifying, I can't sleep; their horror torments me so. No matter what I try, I just keep waking up in the middle of the night screaming—or Spinjitzuing into the wall." he added with a mirthless chuckle.
Lloyd immediately got to his own feet and stepped over the wind-wielder, wrapping a gentle, brotherly loving arm around Morro's shoulder. "I know how you feel." He exclaimed softly and kindly. "I used to feel that way too, before I came to terms with my visions. Rontu's advice about not seeking to bend my gifts to my will…about letting them work the way they were meant to work, and simply trying to find my purpose in the greater plan…it's really helped me and all, but it just…doesn't feel like it's enough to decipher what I need to do next—or how to best lead the team."
Morro nodded, understanding where Lloyd was coming from. Yet, there was still this latest dream to think about. And he got the sneaky suspicion that it would be easier said than done to solve this mystery. A fact confirmed a second later when Lloyd whispered breathlessly, "So, what was your last dream about?"
Morro sucked in a breath, feeling very quivery and shivery all of a sudden, as he stammered nervously, "I saw the Shadow Dojo, and the Wolf Masks training, almost as if they were getting ready for some kind of battle. I saw Cinder using Shatterspin—but it was even darker than when we last saw it, as if it was getting stronger, more mighty, more corrupt and powerful than ever before. I saw Dhuan's Shatterspin getting stronger too—but then it spun out-of-control, looking as if his powers were increasing faster than he could keep up with. I saw the Matriarch Dragon crash in the Realm of Madness—and she didn't get up again. But before the night-vision faded away entirely, I heard the matriarch speaking to me in my mind. She said, 'Child of the Wolf, awake. The Source Dragons are in dire darkness. There are four points to the compass. Remember. There are four points to the compass.'"
He then looked down at his right shoulder, sadly stroking the Mark of the Pack that had appeared on his shoulder just a few nights before. He knew that Jay had been the original holder of the Mark, and that when a new holder was chosen, it either meant that the previous holder was unworthy of the Mark—or had already passed on.
His thoughts were interrupted when Lloyd exclaimed, "I think my dream-vision might have been similar to yours, Morro. In my vision, the matriarch spoke to me in my head, telling me that…the Source Dragons are in grave danger. But she never said anything about there being four points to the compass."
"Do you think you might know what it means?" Morro inquired, bashfully tugging at his PJ sleeve.
"I don't…sigh…really know. Maybe she was talking about the Four Elements of Creation?"
"I don't know much about visions, but if she was talking about that, we're in big trouble. None of those four elements or their masters are here. Jay's still MIA, Cole and Zane are on their own mission, and Kai…" It was then that Morro's eyes began to well with tears, as he once again recalled the horrible night of the Ritual of the Blood Moon.
"Your Shatterspin wielder's met his match! You still don't know who the Shatterspin's Heir is, or who the Core Guardians are! And the Blood Moon's almost over! Even your 'sacrifices' are gone! Yes, I'd say the ritual's almost over—and you failed!"
"All I need for the sacrifice is an unshattered heart…"
Kai…
"And I know just who to use."
"KAI!"
"WHOA-WHOA-WHOA!"
"Become the wind…become the wind…BECOME the WIND!"
"Morro, Skye, look out!"
"WHOA!"
"KAI!"
"MARSHAL!"
"NO!"
"MATEO!"
He was crying again—tears were pouring rapidly down his cheeks like a hot, stinging waterfall. Suddenly, he felt Lloyd wrap his arms tightly around him, stroking his back in comforting circular motions and making wispy shushing noises under his breath, as if soothing the fears of a lost child…and not his ridiculously emotional, mentally fifteen-year-old cousin.
"If only I could go back…" Morro whimpered wolfishly, feeling his Mark of the Pack pulsing chillingly with sorrow and grief and overwhelming heartsickness over what had been. "If only I had been stronger, if only I'd been faster, I could have saved them. I could've—sniff—saved Kai and Marshal from being trapped in the Nether-Space. I could have protected Mateo from getting injured. I could've…SNIFF…I could've…"
And that's when he found he simply couldn't go on. Burying his face in the crook of Lloyd's neck, he closed his eyes and blubbered and sobbed his very heart out as Lloyd murmured in like grief and guilt, "So do I, Morro. So do I."
And as the midnight pressed on, the two just stood there for what seemed to be endlessly moving minutes and cried their very hearts and cores out, remembering their lost friends and weeping till they could weep no more.