Are dreams as phantasmal as so many believe them to be? What if your dreams breathe, think and hurt you?

What if your dreams were more real than your waking hours? Would you confuse the two? In which would you choose to live, assuming you are given the choice?

Sometimes we choose our choices, and sometimes they choose us…

                            -Philosopher Kyne on Planar twinning.

4993 A.D. Third day of the Second week of Autumn. A secret prison under Nolusberg…

Jade lay in the furthest corner of his cell, drawing one slow breath after another.

In... Out. In... Out. In... Out.

His mind adrift on a sea of nothingness, not even memories intruded here.

But what was this? Someone was approaching, the clank of a turned key, then the scrape of rusty hinges sounded as the stairway door was pulled open and men entered.

Two of the men dragged a smaller man in between them, no, not a small man, a female of their kind, why?

Jade’s head hurt as he tried to think and shake off the hunger fog that clouded his mind.

Were they feeding her to him? No, he must not think such thoughts, he had vowed had he not?

Had he?

Yes, He Had!

For a second he almost forgot himself, but his ego held firm.

The cell door creaked open before the men’s torches revealed his emancipated husk of a body to them, sitting against the farthest wall.

The men cursed, evidently they had forgotten about him, no surprise there, Jade had not seen light in over a month, and he was deep in mother earth here.

Truth be told he had only survived this period of neglect by licking the walls, absorbing the small amount of water that seeped through tiny cracks in the cells shoddily laid rock walls.

Yet he had measured time as he lay, the faint vibrations in the wall told of people moving far above, normally one would be hard pressed to hear them however good their hearing was, but it was all to quiet down here, and Jade had the time and little else to occupy his other than the counting of the days.

He refused to think why he was here, madness lay down that path.

As the men briefly left, lighting a light sconce on their way out Jade counted the grooves he had scratched into the stone since day since he was thrown into this pit.

Autumn, second week, second day, Forty-nine days total.

He counted through touch alone, his eyes closed for fear of blinding them in the newly obtained abundance of light.

Jade’s nose twitched as the men brought down some slop, placing the bowl on the ground and shoving it towards the orc.

They feared him eating the human girl then if he was being fed, she must be valuable.

Jade did not complain at the treatment or the sour taste of the soup, to him the bowl of slop was life.

But he drank it slowly, he had seen feeding pains before when other orcs had come out of solitary confinement and eaten too much too fast, and he still wished to live yes?

Yes.

It still hurt as his belly swelled and bloated, but his natural gift of a robust metabolism quickly stripped nourishment from the meager meal, and Jade felt life returning to his enfeebled limbs.

Jade watched the men chain up the unconscious girl, she mumbled and cried in her sleep, occasionally thrashing about, but Jade could not discern any meaning to her groans other than pain.

The men left, off to their own meal, and with nothing better to do Jade sat back against the wall and waited as the hours slowly passed.

His mind was clearer than it had been the last week or two, this cursed state locked the empty sea of his mind and made him recall his loss. His FaILuRe.

He hastily turned his thoughts from it, that pit was a deeper and blacker one than the one in which he currently lay.

To distract himself, he watched the human female.

She was strange looking for a human, her hair looked like flowing mithril, Haplow had pointed the metal out to him once, and Jade had been enamoured with its beauty at the time.

And that was not all, her whimpering and thrashing revealed sharp teeth and pointed ears, was she an elf? Jade had only heard tales of them, he had never seen one in person.

No, she was human, had not the one male said so? Yes, he had.

So he sat and relished in the fact that he was alone no longer.

But with time came anger, and as Jade gazed upon the girl’s face her all too human features lit something within him once more.

Here was a human, one of… them.

Alone, powerless, so... weak.

All he had to do was reach out his hand and snap her neck, it would be easy even in his enfeebled state, one little wring, a swift twist, and she would be out of the pain she was obviously in, and he, he would have…

Jade retracted his outstretched hand and let out a short gruttal laugh, what would his wife and sons think of him if they saw him now.

A single tear dropped from his squeezed brows, splashing down upon his open palm.

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He stared at it; the light reflecting off the wet patch of his palm before he clenched it.

Leaning back against the wall Jade closed his eyes once more, seeking the black expanse within his mind.

Sometime in the night when the walls were still, a silver light glowed around the female as she twitched and drooled onto some dirty hay.

It slowly grew stronger until it woke Jade, who had to shield his eyes with one massive hand as the intensity grew too much.

Yet Jade watched as light rose from the girl, gradually coalescing into a fuzzy form above her.

Curious, he used one of the few tricks old Haplow had taught him, gathering what scraps of mana he could muster, weaving like an orc maiden did a basket and forcing the resultant form to his eyes.

[Ancestor’s Eyes] Jade uttered.

The form sharpened, it was still blurry, but now Jade could make out it’s figure. It was a scaly creature with wings, four limbs, and it was clearly upset with the girl, no, for the girl as it hovered over her.

Then it noticed Jade watching.

{You there, Orc, What have they done to her!? Who has dared to harm her so!?}

Jade shivered, the words were not heard, they were felt, and they reverberated through his very bones.

“I know not honored spirit, she was brought here but three hours past.” Jade answered deferentially.

The apparition flew round in circles for a bit, muttering things such as {How did she land herself in this predicament!}, {What sorcery is this? A blood magic so vile and crude! It’s a miracle she’s not dead already}, {Why can’t I remember? Removing this should be easy for me!}, {What happened to all my power?}

The poor spirit seemed to be quite distressed but Jade struggled to keep up with it’s distressed thoughts that bled over to him, his body still weakened by his starvation was not faring well.

The use of magic hadn’t been particularly wise either, but he had been bored and curious enough to cast it, already it was failing and the figure blurred once more.

Once more he was addressed directly, which helped him to refocus.

{Orc, I am going to have to heal her. In my current state it is far from ideal but not doing so bears too great a risk. I will have to slumber once more for awhile, I charge you to take care of her or face a dragon’s wrath when I awaken once more.}

Jade had heard but one story of dragons before, a campfire tale told by Haplow one evening, it seemed this spirit claimed to be one.

Jade shrugged, it made little difference to him; they were both slaves.

“I will do what I can o’ spirit, little as it may be.” Replied Jade.

This answer was clearly not good enough for the spirit, the dragon? but turned away as the human girl started thrashing about once more.

It glowed brightly for an instant, words were uttered, none that Jade could understand, but the very rocks trembled as it pronounced them.

Jade thrust his hands over his ears as a keening screech shot straight through his range of hearing, his eyes blurred and his body fell to the side against the cold stone.

A moment passed, and there was silence.

Jade sat up, the dragon was gone, and the silver markings on the girls body were fading rapidly. She no longer thrashed or whimpered, no cries of pain escaped her lips, only a soft even breathing as her chest rose and fell.

Time passed, and Jade drank from the wall where his early days of effort had hollowed out a tiny basin that collected water for him to drink.

Sound, movement, Jade watched as the girl awoke and took stock, feeling the cold collar around her neck, and then broke into hysterics.

‘Hysterics, a good word.’ Jade thought, ‘But not a pleasant one.’

He watched as she calmed and enquired of herself the time and date, he answered, surprising himself, but he guessed they would have to talk sometime.

Jade watched in amusement as the girl leapt and came crashing down after colliding with the ceiling.

He rose and moved slowly towards her, trying not to scare her.

She scuttled back in fear anyway as she saw him, gulping at his stature, enfeebled though it was.

But her eyes held something else as she looked in his, pity? shame? a hint of empathy perhaps?

Perhaps that is what prompted him to reach out and give her some advice, he had seen orcs, even been one, who, maddened by grief and anger, fought the magics of the iron vice, it was not a pretty spectacle.

All broke before it, or died.

And he was charged to protect this little silver and pink thing.

She asked Jade a question, and he deflected, who he was did not matter, that person was dead, he was unworthy to bear the name.

He shuffled backwards and sat back in his corner, watching as the girl cocked her ear, hearing something coming.

A moment longer and Jade heard it too, the men were coming.

They took the girl and left Jade in silence once more.

Time passed, and Jade scratched another narrow groove in a softer stone he had found, adding to his count.

He would be patient, he had few other choices, and none he would choose.

Today he had come close to losing the dregs of his honor, but they were not lost yet, he sat and entered the black sea of his mind once more.

----------------------------------------

4993 A.D. Third day of the Second week of Autumn. Royal Palace Gardens…

Duncan paused his sword swings and lowered his practice blade.

Sheathing it he grabbed a towel that was handed to him by a waiting attendant and wiped the sweat from his glistening muscled torso and neck, at eighteen years of age he had filled out well, but still lacked the bulkier muscles that time and continued training would bring.

After splashing his face with scented oil and drying that too he motioned for the attendant to depart and threw on his shirt and jacket, but refrained from buttoning it all up, he was still too hot for that.

The servant bowed and left the small clearing found in the center of the hedge maze that some long-dead king had decided to grow.

Duncan’s attendant would not go far, but it at least gave a little privacy, or at least the illusion of it to the prince.

Duncan knew the man was a spy for one of his elder siblings or their mother, probably the latter, being the fifth prince and the eldest son of the second queen won neither him nor his younger sister much political sway, especially now that she had lost the favor of the king.

Speaking of his younger sibling Duncan called out. “I know you are hiding behind the Petunalia bush Odessa, come on out.”

A pouting child appeared as she rounded the bush on one side of the clearing, she bore the same reddish gold hair as her elder brother, a trademark of the Goldthone family, but her eyes were a gentle blue instead of the soothing green that Duncan bore.

She was young, merely twelve years of age, but was already showing hints of the beauty she would grow to be.

He knelt on one knee as Odessa drew near and ruffled her hair, grinning and listening to her infuriated complaints to him doing so as he warded off her fists by keeping her at a distance with his hand firmly upon her head.

It was a precious moment where neither had to pretend to be perfect, but could express themselves to each other.

All too soon Odessa stilled and Duncan could feel her shaking.

“What’s wrong Nerys?” Duncan asked, using her middle name, something few were allowed.

But he already knew the answer, his sister had finally heard.

“Must you go?” Odessa asked, her tone tearful and soft.

Duncan swept her up in his arms and hugged her tightly, soothing her trembling as he spoke gently to her.

“I must attend the Royal Academy, just as you must be a good girl and go with mother to the winter holdings for a time, it is no longer safe for us here, as much as I wish it were otherwise.

Our father..our king, has commanded it, so it must be so, we have few allies left in court and even they are swiftly abandoning us.

This is the only avenue left for us, and I will not see any of us harmed.”

“Can I not go with you?” Asked Odessa wistfully, “My magic is already better than most your age.”

Duncan laughed at that and drew away slightly so he could see his sister’s tear-streaked face.

“I do not doubt it Nerys, The Mighty Mage! None there could stand before your wrath!” chortled Duncan as he retrieved a handkerchief and cleaned his sister’s face.

He got a fist to his solar plexus and lightly grunted at the surprise blow before continuing.

“But you must be eighteen years of age to be accepted to the Royal Academy, something you are far short of.

And besides, if we both go who will look after mother in her illness?”

Duncan felt as much as saw his sister slump, she was torn by the choice, he knew he was.

He gave her another long hug before sweeping her up off the ground, something that elicited a surprised giggle from her. He needed to distract her from her sorrow, and he knew just the thing.

“Come sister dear, I requested the royal chef to make some starberry custard tarts for an afternoon snack, shall we go and sample them?” Duncan asked Odessa as he held her aloft.

Odessa paused, obviously tempted by one of her favorite treats.

“With whipped cream on top?” She inquired.

“Yes, all the whipped cream you want.” Assured Duncan as he put her down and entered the maze with her hand held tightly in his.