Within The Dream
> ”The layers within the Dream are infinite. And within the Dream, so am I.” ~Norazzel
Kristel tried to catch her breath while she walked over a pile of corpses. Blood had flooded up just below her knees, making it impossible to see whenever someone tried to snatch her ankles. So when a hand submerged in the blood pool dug its nails around her leg and pulled, it took every bit of the Princess’s Siffera to keep herself in place.
She sliced in a fit of panic, severing the hand of whatever it was underneath. The sudden release of tension pushed her out of balance and the slippery nature of the bloody terrain made it impossible to recover with how weak and simple her Siffera was. She fell on her bum, submerging her entire lower half in blood. The metallic stench of it assaulted her nose as some splashed on her face from the impact of her fall.
Kristel almost tried to wipe it off, but luckily noticed just in time that she had planted her hands on the ground to keep the rest of herself above the pool.
She cursed herself for not having a better Siffera.
A vision of Frein flashed in her mind. His confidence, his skill, the way he fought with pride and power with just one Meiyal Art. No, two now, but even then, the Visitor treated Mesiffera as part of Siffera still.
She cursed herself for being weak, for harboring envy towards the Visitor. She cursed herself for being jealous of the fact that circumstances made Frein a far better practitioner in just half a year of training, when she had devoted her entire life for it.
I hate mountains, she realized.
When Kristel got back on her feet, she was surprised to see her leg remained free of injuries. But she wasn’t out of danger. Everywhere she looked, there was a lesser Nightmare coming her way. These humanoids who had succumbed to the Nightmare’s influence took their time, gathering together in mobs as they walked, one lousy step after the other.
This is just a dream. Don’t panic.
Kristel Gathered and Milled. It wasn’t as greedy or relentless as Frein’s, but in this Dream, she could convince herself to be stronger than in reality. Even at that, she was disappointed.
She enveloped her meiyal blade with Kaimfra, causing the short sword to spark ablaze. Here, she could maintain the Art almost perpetually, as if she only had to Draw it once and required no upkeep to maintain.
She struck down the closest Nightmare while wondering why the Art behaved this way in her Dream. None of the other Meiyal Arts she knew acted differently when she Drew them. Only Kaimfra.
As if to prove a point, Kaimfra’s flames blazed brighter, eager to burn the next enemy. Three lesser Nightmares rushed at her. Kristel took her stance, Drawing a second meiyal blade enveloped with the burning Art.
She slipped to the side of her leftmost enemy, ducking away from a telegraphed strike and slicing off the arm with a well-aimed spinning slash. The Princess stepped for a follow-up, but the Nightmare ignited completely. It caught her, and the other two, by surprise.
Kristel recovered first. Out of curiosity, she flicked her blade towards one of her assailants. The flames of Kaimfra surged forth in a similar arc, blasting at both enemies and reducing them to ashes.
A rush of emotions filled her as she observed the disintegrating corpses. She realized this was how the Meiyal Art was supposed to be, not some heat enhancement wrapped around the blade.
But why only in the Dream?
Kristel burned down more mobs of lesser Nightmares until she ran out of breath and yet she still couldn’t figure out the answer. Her Siffera had waned again and she had to re-Draw it…again.
She had been fighting for a long time now. How long, she couldn’t say. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t wake from the Dream. But fortunately, here, she had an infinite amount of meiyal, and there were no signs of Art fatigue at all.
If her circumstances had been better, this situation would’ve been preferable for training. But she knew this was a nightmare. Nothing good would ever come from it.
Her effort wasn’t exactly in vain. After dealing with every Nightmare around her with a conflagration from her pair of meiyal blades, the closest one now was but a tiny speck in the distance.
Now she only had to deal with surprises underneath the bloody flood.
“Why don’t you just burn them, too?” a voice asked from behind her. A soothing voice, comparable to that of a doting mother.
Kristel had no memories of her mother, but for some reason the voice sounded familiar. She turned to find no one there.
“I can’t,” she replied, urging the voice to return. She would prefer any company other than a Nightmare right now, even if said company was a mysterious person playing mind games with her.
“Why not?” asked the voice. This time it sounded different, that of a small girl, a curious child who couldn’t stop asking questions.
“Because I knew them,” Kristel answered before questioning the change in the stranger’s voice. “Who are you?”
“Allow me to answer that question another time, Kristel,” the mother-voice replied. No matter which way Kristel turned, it seemed to always echo from behind her.
“You knew them how?” asked the child-voice.
“They were my soldiers, my knights. I wouldn’t hurt them if I could help it.”
“But they’re in the way.”
“In the way of what?” Kristel calmed the mild irritation caused by the voice’s indignant effort to remain behind her combined by its heartless opinion for the dead. “I have nowhere to go in this nightmare.”
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“What about that mountain over there?” the child-voice asked.
“Over where?” Kristel turned again and found the Flat Lands embraced by the Rindea Mountain Range. She turned again only to find herself standing on top of the Vanguard’s tallest wall.
She was alone, feet no longer submerged in blood, corpses no longer surrounded her. The night wasn’t enveloped by the usual mellow purple. It was as if the blood had turned the skies red instead, far redder than a full Darkmoon would provide.
“Any of those should do,” said the mother-voice. “Sometimes, conquering the hardest trials spontaneously might lead to some desirable results.”
“Just tell me who you are,” Kristel asked again, ignoring the suggestion. She didn’t bother turning.
“How about this; reach any of the peaks you see before you, and I will give you the answer.”
Kristel considered the challenge. She had nothing better to do, so it was an easy decision to make.
“No rules?” she confirmed.
“Use anything within your capabilities. I will wait for you there.”
“How would you know which one I’m going for?” Kristel asked but felt the voice vanish without replying. With a sigh, she leapt off the Vanguard.
With Siffera she recovered easily in the air and landed without any problems. At least, this feat she could manage like Frein did. There was some comfort in that.
Determined, Kristel raced for the nearest peak. She had traversed these mountain forests numerous times and the familiarity allowed her to speed up…and immediately slow down.
These were not the same paths she remembered. The trees were more sinister, a blend of decay and death intermixed within their barks and roots. The place was deathly silent, absent of any small critters that scamper every which way. It became so eerie and still that the Princess was forced to stop and observe. She daintily landed on a tree branch that was thick enough to support her weight.
All around her were only decaying trees and fallen leaves. She quickly realized she was lost. To find her bearings, Kristel climbed to the top. It only took her a few seconds to realize she couldn’t reach it. They grew ever taller with every step she took. And when she looked down, the ground stayed the same distance.
Even when she tried climbing with her eyes fixed to the ground, she made no progress. Confused, she dropped to the ground. That, she was permitted to do, but it made it more difficult to find her way.
Still, the easiest thing to do was to find the slope and climb high. Kristel remembered the general direction of the mountain itself and headed east.
But where’s east?
Kristel couldn’t find the moon or see the stars. Faint beams of moonlight shined directly downwards, providing her no clue. And even when she waited to measure the change of light, the light itself refused to move. She was in her Dream after all.
I am in my dream, she realized.
With a thought, she willed the Dream to change, commanding the forest to show her the way. She felt a tug within herself, something tangible pulling at her meiyal core, refusing to follow her orders. She pulled back, clutching it with every ounce of her willpower. The stronger she tried, the harder it was.
But her surroundings were changing. Slowly but surely, she could see the trees changing form, returning to the luscious green ones she recognized. When it finally settled to what looked like the exact replica of the real Rindea Mountain Range, she felt the tug loosen.
It was exhausting. Kristel’s knees gave out and she had difficulty breathing. She emphasized her Siffera, hoping it might ease her physical fatigue and provide her stamina the way Frein’s did.
But no. The Art only ever allowed her to hit harder, dash faster, jump higher. None of the other aspects that helped Frein.
Kristel clicked her tongue in irritation and pressed her fists on the ground to anchor herself up her feet. She sucked in a lungful of air and exhaled in a burst, easing her fatigue even if just for a little.
With her Siffera already emphasized, Kristel made for the mountain with as much haste as possible. The moment she moved, something swiped at her. A gigantic skeletal claw—no, a piece of a ribcage.
The Princess ran away from Those That Fell Off A Cliff. Her goal was to reach the peak of a mountain, not fight off Nightmares. The Fallen chased her with a purpose.
Kristel dashed with all her might, employing Ascensia, to provide her with a speed boost she couldn’t gain from Siffera alone. The Art surrounded her limbs with layers of wind mimicking silk cloth. She became lighter, as if the wind itself carried her every step.
It was a painful Art to Draw. Before, she used it to enhance herself further, but now it was like admitting defeat; that she had to rely on another Meiyal Art when Frein could achieve the same thing with just one.
The Princess shook her head as she left the Fallen in the dust. She had been comparing herself to Frein for a while now. She couldn’t help it. Anyone would do so if they saw the rate of his growth.
More Fallen appeared from her peripheral view and she only now realized that she was supposed to be running from the secured side of the Rindea Mountain Range. She disregarded that fact and blamed it on the Dream.
Still, the Nightmares had been relentless. Some larger, more capable Fallen managed to keep pace with her speed. Maintaining her distance wasn’t a problem, but there were so many that she couldn’t even count how many were chasing her. And the new ones were increasingly getting faster. At this rate, a new Fallen would appear and catch her.
It was unnatural even for Nightmares. At least, her assumptions of them said so.
Desperate, she exerted her will into the Dream again, and the tug responded. This time, she couldn’t afford to stop. She suffocated as she ran, as if something from within her choked her airways. Not only that, but she could feel something grip at her limbs, like heavy chains weighing her down.
She could feel herself losing precious speed. One of Those That Fell Off A Cliff almost reached her, swiping down with all its might. Kristel barely jumped away in time. She almost turned to fight, but when she saw the same Fallen disperse into nothingness, she knew she was doing the right thing.
With one strong pull, she willed all of the Fallen to vanish, and instantly, she was alone. The feedback was too much, as if the thing that pulled against her meiyal core ripped it off from her chest. Her knees gave way and she fell flat towards the ground.
Darkness consumed her before what little light remained vanished from her sight.
Kristel snapped awake, tasting dirt and out of breath. She had no indication of how long she was unconscious for, but she knew she was still in her Dream. She tried to move, but her body was sluggish. It was taking her all to breathe.
“Get up, please,” she begged herself. “You’re in your dream and even here, you’re still worthless.”
A tear fell down her face. She hated it…crying. Her fists clenched with rage and emphasized Siffera as she punched the ground, forcing herself up. Her shoulders shook at the effort and her elbow gave way, plopping her back on the ground.
Kristel screamed and cried, punching the ground with a vengeance.
“Get up!” she yelled. She fired her frustrations, her anger, her jealousy, everything, on the ground. She hated that that particular ground didn’t even sustain a single crack.
Her breathing dragged, finding no closure for her rage. She managed to turn herself over at least. The view of the canopy, dark and red as it was, was more comfort for her now than the dirt below. Kristel closed her eyes and tried to calm herself.
She eased her will into the Dream once more. This time, she wasn’t forceful. She patiently took her grip and eased whatever it was that tugged back towards her.
She willed her Siffera to be the same as Frein’s. The tug didn’t respond. At least not in the way she suspected. It didn’t pull, but pushed towards her instead.
Kristel’s Siffera flared with emphasis and clarity she’d never seen before. She felt a surge of energy and her physical fatigue faded away until there was nothing.
The Princess sat up confused. Her hands trembled with energy, as if they could rip trees out of their roots. She lifted herself up her feet with amazing ease, a gentle push off the ground brought her bouncing up in the air for just a few seconds.
More than just confusion, Kristel felt lost. She wondered if such a thing was possible for her outside of the Dream. But even more than that, she now knew how to get to the peak.
With the same gentle tug, she brought the peak towards her.
It was flat. A small table waited for her. There were two chairs, with one of them occupied…by Liona.
“Looks like you made it,” Liona said. “Welcome, Princess.”
Kristel glared at her retainer while she drank tea. Anger began to surface but she tempered it down with her waning discipline. She contemplated on Drawing a meiyal blade, but thought better of it.
“Who are you?” she asked instead.
Liona simply smiled.
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