Chapter Fourteen- Dreams
When Lilliana had woken first she had thought that the bonding must have taken more out of Mark than she thought. After two whole hours with no sign of an imminent return to consciousness, she became worried. By now, nearly one full day had gone by… and nothing. She was struck with full on panic now, her thoughts jumping to all the worst conclusions. He’s in a coma! Or, What if he never wakes up? With these thoughts came the constant, insidious worry. What if he dies? What if I end up trapped here alone?
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Daylight was gone. Lilliana was bone tired. She had gotten absolutely nothing done today, and had seriously underestimated the extent that Mark was able to calm her during these unfamiliar outbursts of doubt and irrational thinking. For the past hour she had been an utter mess, completely beyond reasoning with herself, before she had noticed something- something critical, and painfully obvious now that she had seen it. Caught up in her concern for Mark, she had completely ignored their tiny dragon friend. Just as her partner lingered in his sleeping state, the dragon did the same beside him. The bonding is still happening, she told herself. He’ll be alright. He has to be.
To distract herself, Lilliana decided it might be wise to see what her leveling had done for her. Not to do anything with right now, of course, but rather just to know. The window popped open, and she began to read.
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Class: Curse Queen of the Northern Lakes has leveled from [lvl 1] -> [lvl 2].
Class skill levels raised by 1.
Base statistics raised by 1.
Class skill gained: Curse Detection.
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Curse has leveled from [lvl 1] -> [lvl 2].
Control increased.
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Class Status page:
Name: Lilliana Katuunka
Species: Oceli
Class title: Curse Queen Of The Northern Lakes [lvl 2][Unique Class]
Class Affinity: Curse [lvl 1]
Class description: You are the ruler of curses, and they bend to your will. You wield immense power in these curses, and can take down even the most powerful of beasts, granted the right opportunity and defense. Your curses are powerful, but you yourself are vulnerable.
Class skills: [5]
Grimoire [lvl 2]:
This skill allows you to replicate any curse you have or will come across. The curse’s name and function is documented within your grimoire, and can be accessed in the ‘Grimoire’ tab of your status page.
Curse Negation[lvl 2]:
Dispel any curse you’ve cast. [Mana cost 5]
Dispel any curses applied by others. [Mana cost 20]
Curse Reversal [lvl 2]:
Using this active skill on a curse causes the initial effect of the curse to be reversed, effectively causing the opposite effect to occur. [Mana cost 15]
First Curse [lvl 2]:
The first curse from any of your wide array of options to be applied to a target will have its effects amplified by 5%. Skill effect grows by a static 1% every 5 levels.
Curse Detection [lvl1]:
This passive skill grants you the ability to see if an item has been cursed by looking at it.
Affinity Skills: [2]
Curse [lvl 2]:
Spend mana to apply a curse from your grimoire. You have access to the two basic curses Immediately. [Mana cost varies per curse]
Cursed item [lvl 1]:
Give an item the ability to apply one curse from your grimoire, under a condition of your choosing. [Mana cost varies per curse]
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Lilliana sighed with relief. A passive skill meant she wouldn't need to do anything to activate it, which was good. She was already facing some difficulty using her class skills in tandem with each other, although that might change with their new levels, and her level in her curse skill. Mark had mentioned briefly to her a few days back that his level in water manipulation had made the actual control of his ability take much less of his focus. She checked her grimoire, but it seemed that she didn't have any new curses to work with. It's probably for the best. There's still so much I need to learn about the ones I already have, she thought to herself. I hope Mark wakes up soon.
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Meanwhile, Mark was, in fact, fully conscious- but trapped in a strange, transformative, dreamlike state. He flitted from one dream to another, living out snippets of things that he could feel had really happened. In these dreams, Mark inhabited minds, those of people and creatures he didn’t recognize over and over again. He ate strange dishes in strange places. Meditated by a large lake with a mirror surface. Flew high over the picturesque cities of a peaceful country. These moments came and went, Each leaving him with… a feeling. A sense of duty, perhaps, or an understanding he had not previously gained. Not all of what he gained was so cut and dry as that, much being instead left to his own interpretation. As he slid his way into his next experience, he wondered what he might stand to gain from his next lesson.
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... The early morning sunlight filtered through the trees. A wild boar shuffled around dirt on the bank of a river, digging for mushrooms. Entirely focused on its menial task, the boar stood no chance against him. An ominous gust of wind rattled the trees, and the once still water exploded into motion. The boar let out a piercing squeal and turned to run, but his mighty jaws clamped onto the pitiful creature, breaking its spine on impact. The strike landed swift and true...
The mind faded from his own, and Mark was presented with another.
...The bell chimed as he pushed the door of the bakery open. The warm air rushed to him as he walked in, carrying with it the sugary-sweet smells of freshly baked goodies. I’ll have to be sure to get one for sis, he thought. After ordering two pastries from the baker, a kind man with a round face and friendly demeanor, he carried them home...
And another, not nearly so pleasant.
...The scent of blood permeated the air; a scent borne from the dozens of bodies littering the street. Man and beast alike, the endless corpses lay where they had died. A man with his stomach torn open, slumped over against a crumbling wall. The stone cold body of a young woman lying sprawled over yet another form, this one much smaller. A dog barked somewhere in the distance. Mark trudged solemnly through the demolished town. Bloody mud stuck to his boots as he walked, squelching uncomfortably. He walked past storefronts, markets, and homes, but these places were nothing like they had been in their prime. Scents of roasted meat and spices, replaced now with the sour smell of rotting food.
He approached the town square, spear in hand. In a pale ray of moonlight, rain bounced off the dark, glimmering scales of the perpetrator. The creature turned to him, but it was far too late.
Thunk.
His spear entered through the left eye of the creature, before lodging in its brain. The nightcrawler fell still, but for its multitude of legs, which twitched awkwardly against its limp carapace. Mark retrieved his spear, and looked back one last time on the ruined town, before moving on...
And yet another.
...The elder opened his great maw- a torrent of superheated water spewing forth at the smaller figure before him. The smaller dragon, barely avoiding the attack, retreated swiftly, not even attempting to defy his authority. The elder cared not to pursue him. After all, he did not know this was my territory, thought the elder. Let him live.
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The images just kept coming. Never once was he the same person or creature twice. Sometimes, the moment was short, and faded quickly from his mind. Others were more visceral, and he found himself becoming wrapped up in the individual’s sense of purpose and honor. Those were the ones Mark remembered most vividly, whose messages preserved themselves most effectively in his mind. Strike swiftly, he thought to himself. Provide justice to those who cannot do so for themselves. Grant mercy to those you can. And remember what makes you who you are.
Eventually, he came back to his own life, his own mind. Before him, in a blank white void, sat the dragon. Mark looked deep into glassy green eyes, and nodded. The dragon nodded back, and Mark felt the bond snap into place- familiar, like it had always been there. With that, his consciousness returned to his body.
Mark sat up lazily, bringing a hand to the corners of his eyes to rub at them as he yawned. His mouth felt dry. A loud thud resounded from the other room, and he looked for the sound. A book lay on the ground, spine up- and then Lilliana slammed into him, tackling him to the bed. His vision was fixed to her as she threw her arms around him, and climbed him as a cat would a tree, holding on tight. He didn't hesitate to respond in kind, wrapping his arms around her. Startled, he prepared to question her antics, but before he could, her lips slammed against his desperately, and his mind went momentarily blank, before he kissed her back, like he had wanted to since their first. He teased her lips apart with his tongue, and she opened for him, inviting him in. As their tongues intertwined, Lilliana melted against him, her body pressing flush to his. “I missed you,” she sent, and Mark could feel the sincerity of her worry flow through him. It occurred to him that he had missed her too, trapped in his mind as he had been. “How long have I been asleep? he asked. “Two nights,” she replied, somewhat distracted.
Two whole nights, he realized. Two whole nights he had been incapacitated, leaving her here alone and worried. Lilliana would have had a particularly hard time with that, he knew. He wasn't entirely certain, but her moments of emotional overload seemed to occur most often when she was concerned or upset about something. After a moment more, he broke the kiss, pressing his lips to hers one final time before pulling back. Her pupils were dilated, and she drew deep breaths of air through her soft, pink lips, swollen a little from their kiss. She was gorgeous. “I’m sorry, Princess,” he told her, and he knew that the nickname had landed well when she smiled. “I was so worried,” she sent him in return. “Especially at first, I had no idea if sleeping so long was a normal side effect, or if something happened.” “I’m ok,” he said. “Just a little hungry and thirsty.” Then he drew his head up to kiss her one more time. This time it was softer, less urgent. He explored her mouth, learned what she liked. His Princess was a wonderful kisser. Her soft lips caressed his own lovingly and her dexterous tongue moved in harmony with his own. her canines, slightly sharper than his own, nipped lightly at his tongue and lower lip. She tasted delicious, and smelled sweet, like honeysuckle in early autumn.
When they finally broke apart, he was lightheaded from the lack of oxygen, and they breathed heavily. Lilliana stayed where she was, resting her head on his shoulder. He could feel her chest rising and falling against his own, and felt the stirring of lust within himself. She murmured something, but he didn’t quite pick up on what she said. “What was that?” he asked. A wave of mild embarrassment rolled over him through their bond before she spoke up, slightly louder this time and replied, “I said, we- we should do that more often.” She was stuttering over her words, which was absolutely adorable. He tilted her chin so she looked him straight in the eyes before he replied. “Yes, we should.”
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Lilliana’s breath caught as Mark told her that yes, they should in fact do that more often. She really had been worried sick; when she had woken up this morning and neither he nor the dragon had awakened, she had nearly fallen back into her rhythm of the previous morning. However, she had beaten it back. She had reminded herself that there was plenty of time, as long as she could still feel him through their bond. When he had woken, she had kissed him, surprising herself with her forwardness. And then he kissed her right back. Now, here they were. He's definitely awake, she thought. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was pressing against her between her thighs. His eyes had once more locked with hers, and there was lust flowing both ways between them. She tilted her head. He leaned forward. They were so close, and she could feel his hot breath against her skin, sending chills down her spine.
Right as she was about to close the distance between them for a third, blissful time, something changed. The charge in the air vanished without warning, and a presence joined them, familiar, but also not at the same time. Suddenly Lilliana felt a little out of place in the position she was in. Her palm, the one that had hurt so much two nights ago, tingled furiously. She moved herself off of Mark and together they turned to see the dragon, green eyes watching them intently. The presence in her head convalesced into something more, into a voice. “Mama!” the voice said, as the dragon looked at Lilliana, who stared in disbelief. Then its eyes turned to Mark. “Papa!”