The light was blinding...or no...it was simply too much. There was something more there that he could see, but it was too much for his mind to readily comprehend. He was walking through a field with someone. There were sounds and the feel of grass and wind, and it was the perfect mix of temperatures. There was so much to sense, so, so much, and too much. Everything seemed cast in a haze of blinding brilliance that pushed themselves out and away from his observation.

There was an aching pain to the memory or was it a dream? He knew he was.... he was the boy asleep in the bed, but…

There was someone. They came close. Someone who wasn't confined to just a simple pronoun, or a grand title. The someone wasn't a specific gender, shape, or race. The someone was everything. –Had been everything. Mortal words and mortal minds did not have the capacity to contain what the someone beside him was, but he knew and remembered all that this someone had been.

He knew the field they walked through was Elysium. That was what mortal kind called it, but it was nothing more than a park. A place to visit. There was so much more beyond the grassy fields and in the blinding haze that he could not bring fully to mind. He tried to remember, but his thoughts were interrupted once again.

“Why don't we try again?” The someone seemed to say.

It was more than words. It was memory. It was lifetimes of sensation, every word a story of a thousand paintings containing a thousand lifetimes.

The someone, that special, and very specific someone brought out their hands, their being, and joined it with his own. He took them in his own, watching, remembering, feeling, a thousand variations of his own hands meet with thousands more of the someone's own. Male or female, dark or light of skin, of race or species familiar or strange passed through his mind. But the someone was still...mortal words and thoughts failed again.

The closest word mortal kind had was 'soul mate', but that was too literal, too plain, and too simple to contain all that his someone was. She was so much more than just 'Partner' or 'Friend'. Lover did not play into it, she had not always been 'Lover'. A thousand, thousand lives they had spent and lived to together sharing aspects of their very being together. Friend, Foe, Rival, Lover, and so much more.

Whatever story played out they always went together.

“I want to stay and remember.” He replied, but his words too were too much.

Floods of memory, sensation, sound, and light poured from him instead of simple words.

“Won't you live with me again?” She asked, her face changing in the brilliant light to show Tanya's loving and smiling face. Her hands reached out, old, young, small, grown, weathered and brand new all at once.

The dream, or maybe it was a memory, quickly changed after that.

Suddenly Ivan was himself again, and not the strange mass of countless lives. He was back in the Parish.

His heart pounded as he burst through the door. Rage filled his limbs and his thoughts. Magic burned down his arms and legs, igniting him in scarlet and bronze fury as he kicked the door guard off his sword. He strode inside leaving the man like a broken doll cast against the wall.

This time when he cast open the door it wasn't the cold faced youthful commander that dragged Jen by her hair, but Thomas, the Hero of Light, and Tanya wasn't at his back trying to stop him, but held up by the neck by none other than Theadus himself.

Ivan screamed as the cruel God of Light turned Tanya to ash with a scorching flash of light.

“Agggghhh!” Ivan screamed, coming awake midway through coming out bed.

He slammed into the floor and into the wall, but Shroud shot around him, cloaking him, part cobra, part manta ray. Quixla's Blood-Feast Fang leaped into his hand from a mass of black tendrils of malicious mana, and he ripped his Knight's Longsword from the depths of the Shroud as he stumbled forward, blind, and enraged.

The first shape in the dark came apart under his attack, wood splintering, and things clattering all over the floor as he growled, snarled, and whined like an animal under attack. Pottery and porcelain smashed to pieces near him, and sprayed him with cold water. He hissed and seethed, mind reeling, as he looked for his next attacker, for Jen, and Ral, and...and Tanya…

Ivan fell, crumpling like an exhausted soldier being routed by an enemy army. Despair filled his mind and stole all the strength from his limbs. His weapons clattered to the floor and he struggled to keep himself from falling face first into the water and broken remains of the nightstand. His breaths came out ragged and between whimpering snarls of anguish.

A lamp came on in the room. Ivan didn't bother to look.

The others were rising, all getting up, and storming out of their rooms. The lamp light drifted to his side, and Myrn appeared at his side, one hand carefully extended toward him.

“Ivan...?” She whispered. “Ivan are you awake?”

Their door rattled under heavy knocking.

“Mryn! Isaac! You guys all right?” It was Andy's voice.

Myrn left Ivan's side to go to the door. She unlocked it, and let Andy and Marvin in. Other's looked on, but Myrn shut them out, closing the door behind the two.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

“We're fine...sort of...” Myrn answered.

She had nothing but a sheet over her, but didn't shy from the two men in the room. Ivan was wearing little more than his Shroud after all. The lamp light spilled over him, and Ivan shook trying to collect himself from the panic of the nightmare still.

“Whoa...” Andy gasped, “What's that on his hand?”

“He had it when he came back today.” Myrn answered, she was embarrassed and in spite of what had just happened her mood was still lifted by afterglow even after sleeping for a time.

“He seemed to have settled a little, or so I thought when he came back. I thought maybe he had figured something out, but he started tossing and turning. I tried to wake him, but I couldn't and well he's so strong..” Myrn explained.

Ivan shuddered and tried to form words in his mind to put his friends at ease, but couldn't. Scarlet ribbons of etheric mana writhed up from within his arms, thankfully not cutting the flesh this time, but they still burned as they glided through his flesh.

“Ivan...? Ivan...?” Myrn whispered.

“Penelope...” Ivan growled, in too much pain for sense.

He couldn't feel her presence within the Shroud.

“What did he say?” Marvin asked.

Another soft knocking came at the door. Andy went. Ivan already knew it was Meeda and Davian by the sensations of worry he felt through Taps Upon the Web. It just didn't matter. Ivan struggled to breathe with the panic in his chest. He needed Penelope.

“Everything alright? Whatever happened you woke up half the Inn.” Davian murmured.

“It was just a nightmare. I—Isaac will be okay in a moment or two. Sorry. Sorry everyone.” Myrn said to those outside of the room.

Ivan hissed as he drew himself to his knees and wrapped the Shroud about him. It was so tempting to vanish into the dark. He could go out there and find Penelope. He could take her into the Shroud and let her care for him. He let out ragged breaths trying to calm himself on his own before abandoning his friends, Myrn in particular. He wanted to wrap the Shroud around her, keep her away from that dreadful light, and make her safe.

The door closed again, and that awful light came near. Ivan shielded himself from it.

“Ivan...” Myrn whispered.

He didn't respond. He didn't want to see that light.

“Ivan, is there anything I can do?” Myrn whispered again.

“Take the light away.” Ivan murmured.

There was some little movement and the light moved away. Myrn must have handed it off to one of the other two. Ivan relaxed a little and when Myrn came back he lowered the Shroud a little, and showed her his arms.

“Hells...” Andy murmured.

Myrn scooted closer, Marvin standing back a little ways, just enough to give her light to see by.

“What is this?” Myrn asked.

She reached out, her fingers touching Ivan's carefully, as his arms continued to spark with strange violet ribbons of mana.

“He had a gifted spark. From Istania.” Marvin commented softly.

Myrn looked back at him for a long moment, but then nodded.

“That's true I suppose.” Myrn said, clasping Ivan's hands tightly, but not moving any closer to him. “Does he know? About the rumors? I know people don't like to talk about it.”

“I told him. Today..er yesterday. Whatever time it is.” Marvin answered, “He sort of did something like that earlier, but he was able to reel it in. Made him bleed that time, but I thought...well I'm not sure what I thought.”

Myrn kissed Ivan's forehead and nodded then.

“We'll take care of you Ivan. Whatever's happening.” Myrn promised him.

“Gone.” Ivan heard himself say, his voice alien in tone.

“What was that Ivan?” Myrn whispered.

“Alone.” Ivan heard himself respond.

He fought for control of his voice, but he felt crushed beneath a wall of anguish.

“You're not alone Ivan. You're very much not alone. I promise you that.” Myrn assured him.

Ivan made himself look up at her, and for a moment he almost couldn't describe what he was seeing. Suddenly there was something like a network of stars, wholly independent skies of magic, drifting out from within each of his friends. He had the strangest sensation that this was the first time they had met, that he had never really seen them, and that he had not lived with them before. It was confusing, and their features blurred with phantom images of faces, species, and people they were not.

“Asleep. Living Dream. You're all....still asleep.” Ivan heard himself speak, yet again not feeling as if he were in control of his own body.

He fought against that pressure, that strange and too big mind that was ripping his body apart with its mana. For all his efforts, whatever they could be called, the being didn't seem so much moved as it was startled. Once that happened it retreated immediately. Ivan gasped and the magic retreated from his burning body before it could burn him out, or rip apart his flesh again.

Ivan sagged into Myrn. She caught him in her arms, her sheet falling most of the way down to her hips. Her skin was a welcome sensation to Ivan's aching body. He fought to stay awake, but was drained and sore after whatever had happened.

“Help me—one of you. Help me get him up. I think he's passing out.” Myrn said, but her voice felt distant.

Ivan drifted, vague sensations of arms and hands holding him fading to the soft embrace of blankets, and the now familiar warmth of Myrn, cuddled up beside him. Doors closed, calm came, and shadows blanketed the room. Time passed. Ivan drifted back.

Ivan gripped Myrn tightly as she fell into the depths of sleep in his arms. He put the Shroud around and over her. She made a soft sound, and pressed back against him, maybe coming awake a little at the disturbance. Ivan kissed and tasted the soft skin at the back of her neck and nuzzled her soft hair, taking in its gentle scent as he did.

It wasn't long after that moment that he felt Penelope enter the room, her hoofs almost perfectly silent as she stepped through shadow and darkness to approach his bedside. She touched his back, but her fingers came short upon the outside of the Shroud. Ivan didn't move it or let her in right away.

Penelope took up the lead then and circled about the bed coming to the other side. She was as beautiful as ever, wings cloaking her for short moments before she crouched at the bedside. Her horns were curled rams horns at the moment, and her new long tail flicked about like some kind of predatory cat’s. Her eyes were pitch black all the way round, and her amber irises focused on Myrn and him laying in bed.

Ivan clutched to Myrn tightly, their warm and sleepy bodies touching wherever they could manage. Myrn made a soft sound and turned part way to him, her legs seeking more contact with his own. Ivan snuggled into her possessively as he watched Penelope.

Ivan had given her service, more or less, after his little outing, and she had seemed pleased, but maybe not enough so if she was sneaking out of the Shroud while he slept.

“Master...” Penelope sighed.

Ivan shook his head gently so as to not wake Myrn.

Penelope rolled her eyes.

“What were you doing?” Ivan asked, his voice nothing more than a soft whisper.

“Investigating. Something's happening around town or nearby. Someone might be looking for you.” Penelope answered.

Ivan had tried to hide his jealousy from Penelope, but it was clear she sensed it. Still he clutched Myrn, knowing Penelope desired to couple with him as much as Myrn enjoyed doing so herself.

“What did you find?” Ivan asked.

“A priestess is looking for you it seems. Not Isaac the Healer, but Ivan, Son of Nathaniel.”

“What's her name?”

“Anastasia.”