Amid my comforting void of near-oblivion, pinpricks of all the quiet dreamers distant and weak enough to be little more than a low buzz of impressions with the barest hint of emotion, a blazing star came to light, the taste of it all fire and smoke and cold steel, familiar and dangerous. The dream's presence burned away all traces of the uneasy calm I'd nearly managed to wrest from this night, and I silently cursed myself for not realizing he'd be here tonight. Was it really midsummer already?
Even miles away as the dreamer must have been, it'd be impossible to ignore for the rest of the night. The more force of will and resolve behind the dream, the harder it was for me to tune it out; such was the nature of my bestowal from the Dreammother, soul of our world--my "blessing," as it were, according to the Order of the Sleeping Sovereign. My curse.
People are fragile. We can only bend so far before breaking...and that break isn't always so clean. Break a bone and it may mend crooked. Bend the mind far enough, break the soul, and the blurred line between the waking and dreaming worlds starts to fade; the gap between worlds becomes crooked, and from it springs both miracles and nightmares. We are the Dreamweavers, the Soul-Shattered, the Waking Dreamers for whom delusion and reality intertwine.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
The radiant dreamer intruding upon my consciousness was far from ordinary; the dream of an unbroken, sleeping soul was but an ember, a promise of potential. Even the most freshly-shattered of the Waking commanded a presence with their dreams: bursting, vibrant, wild flames. The dream roaring to life around me burned with all the heat and intensity of the sun, its bearer having long since turned the touch of gnarled madness at the heart of all those who Wake towards a clarity of purpose and resolve that warped the surrounding dreamscape to reflect its nature.
It was always the same dream on these fateful midsummer sojourns. Memories. Always painful. Always raw. But with the pain came a kind of refreshing clarity, a reminder of my past and my burden. No sense delaying the inevitable; I reached towards the dream and it connected almost hungrily, my consciousness swimming as the flood of memories and feelings crashed over me like a wave.
It was going to be a long night.