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Library: The Dream, A Lost Times Tale.
Books
Author: Yari
Date:Nov 2 1995
As usual, it had been a full day. Adventuring, after a time,
becomes almost routine. You know what to pack, how to escape
certain situations, and many other, easily combated problems that go
with the work. But nothing, nothing ever prepares you for the
exhaustion.
Mind-numbing, at times, it overwhelms you in a way that few other
things can. Love, perhaps. Desire, at times. But this type of
exhaustion, after hours of life-or-death struggle, it comes for you.
And on one particular instance, it came with a vengeance...
I had been in an old mansion. Curious place, as neat as if it had
never actually been lived in. Things were in order, guards were in
place, but no master had been at home. I spent time in the library,
leafing through the tomes, presuming the place to be fairly normal.
It was not to be so. The physical adventures I had in this place
were nothing short of hellish. This is not the place to describe
them, for as much as the corporeal world was hellish, the non-
corporeal was... nightmarish.
I located the master bedroom, and proceeded to take advantage of
the bed. A fine pallet, it was filled with the softest feathers,
far superior to where I normally sleep, which is just about anywhere
I can find level ground upon which to lay my bedroll. I reasoned
that I deserved a night of comfort, after all, I was no longer so
young as I once was, and hard adventuring was getting more difficult
by the day. Sleep descended upon me like a hawk upon its prey.
It was not a normal sleep, but in my state, I was not able to
discern this at the time. It seemed natural to be here, in this
strange room, with garish colors upon the walls, and strange
patterns on the floor. This particular room was checkerboarded on
the floor in a glaring black-and-white pattern. The walls, too, had
the same pattern. The overall effect was that it was hard to tell
where the walls ended and the floor began. A strange effect, but
all seemed very natural.
A glowing archway led out of the room, through which I could see a
hallway, and I willed myself through it, not so much as walked
through it The hallway greeted me with scarlet walls, with diagonal
lines crossing the floor. I paused a moment, wondering why anyone
would choose such a strange pattern, but after a moment, ignored the
oddity, and went on. The hallway led me to my right(directions were
so absolute, but had no reference, it was disconcerting, but
strangely comforting), and I traveled down its length, noting that
after every few steps, the walls or floor would change to an ever-
more strange and eye-popping pattern.
A doorway loomed to my left, it seemed menacing and dark, and I
chose to pass it by. Soon, the hallway ended, in a splash of green
and blue. A single doorway led straight ahead, it was well-lit with
a pearly glow, and I proceeded through it without a second thought.
Upon entry, I immediately noticed that the room was dominated by a
large mirrored surface. I was horrified, for my image in the mirror
was constantly changing! My image, my horrible image, it was the
visages of all the foes I had brought to death! Dragons, trolls,
wolves and even, yes, men, they all glared at me accusingly. I
tried to flee, but could not move, the images' hatred pinned me in
place! I was powerless against them, I moved forward, to embrace
them, take them within me, kill them, anything! As I approached the
silvery surface, a button appeared, it pulsed a dull blue glow. In
desperation, I pushed it! The mirror warped...twisted, fell back
into the wall, and then exploded outward in a bright flash of purple
light, the needle-like shards piercing my flesh, but leaving no
marks!
My vision cleared, and I was greeted by the strangest sight! A
large, red sphere, it was unmarked by any blemish save for a gaping
maw, filled with dagger like teeth! It charged me, I fell back,
wishing I had my weapons, anything at all to defend myself with! I
looked at my hands... and found them full, full of steel! My Torso
Makers, they were with me! I fought savagely, my battle sense
seemed to be at an all-time peak, my abilities soared higher than
ever before, and I quickly brought an end to the sphere, cutting it
to ribbons before it could get within reach with its fangs!
Hardly a moment passed, and a bright light flashed, all traces of
my enemy were erased. I glanced at my hands. Empty. Strange,
indeed, but stranger still, that I did not even consider it odd in
the least. I found nothing else of interest in the room, so I
backtracked back through the hallway, through the vibrant rainbow
of walls.
I found the dark doorway that I had passed, and with little other
recourse, I entered it. A gloom awaited. The room I entered was not
garishly colored, not at all. Shades of gray, all shades, awaited
me here. I saw, at first in the corner of my eye, but then filling
my entire field of vision, what appeared to be a patch of smoke.
The smoke itself was odd, in that it did not move randomly, in fact,
it formed shapes at will, geometric patterns, three-dimensional
shapes, all manner of objects, even that of my Torso Makers. I
reached out to touch it, and it *moved* away from my grasp! I
observed it a bit longer, and then decided to speak.
"Hello?"
=Hello?= It repeated back at me. Perfectly. Every pitch, every
tone of my voice, it came back to me. The voice seemed to come from
the air around me, it wa everywhere. Like an echo, but far clearer,
more like as if I had been speaking to myself. I asked again.
"Hello? What are you?"
=What are I?=
"Yes, what are you."
=I forget verbal speech, forgive.=
"I understand you. What are you?"
=I am he.=
"He?"
=Yes, He. Shall I show you he?=
"Please." The smoke coalesced into a form, humanoid but not human
by any means. It was as if you took a human and...blurred it, is
the best way to describe it.
=He.=
"He? Hmm, yes, He. Tell me, do others call you by any other
names than 'He'?"
=Yes.=
"What are they? I must know, for I am unable to call you 'He', it
does not work with verbal communication."
=I am called The King of Dreams. I am called Morpheus.=
I knew the name, Morpheus, the god of sleep, the King of Dreams.
A true god, this was impossible.
=I am He, do not Doubt me, for you are within my realm, and I may
do as I please with you.=
"You knew my thoughts..."
=Of course.=
"Morpheus. I have heard of you, though not many believe that you
exist any longer."
Silence greeted me. I continued. "I, for one, was always told
that you were a destroyer, not one to be trusted. Is this so?"
=You live, do you not?=
"Yes, I suppose I do. Why have you not destroyed me, then?"
=You are the first to come to me in this manner in a long time. I
am as curious about you as you are about me.=
His form wavered. 'Frayed', so to speak. "Is it difficult for
you to maintain that form?"
=No. I am simply out of practice. Tell me, Mortal, what do you
know of me?=
"Can't you simply read it out of my head?"
=Yes, I could, but I prefer to re familiarize myself with
vocalization.=
I recited the section from my textbooks that I was made to
memorize so long ago. "Morpheus, god of Dreams, the Deceiver.
Morpheus attempts to lure the faithful from the true path, the path
of righteous consciousness, into the realm of the unconscious. If
visited by a vision of Morpheus, one will go mad."
=That is all?=
"Yes, it is. Morpheus is no longer believed to exist, as I said,
and therefore, is absent, in the main, from our teachings."
A long pause. "Am I now mad?"
=You tell me.=
"Then no. I am not."
=That is not the only untruth.=
"Tell me then, the truth, so that I may right what was wronged."
=You will squander it, as so many have before you.=
"I will not. I am an educator, a leader of mortals. Search my
soul, find if this is true. I am not a holy man, I am an
adventurer. I will not corrupt the truth because of legend. Tell
me."
A long pause, I feared I would get no response this time. =Very
well.=
=Long ago, the pantheon was not so full as you know it to be. The
realm of the gods was filled by one, by me. I had visions of
uniting the world of mortals with my own, that I would have
companions, ones with whom to share my existence in a manner that
would foster the creation of new ideas, of higher thought. To that
end, I created the Dream. Mortals who were of a particular sort,
intelligent and wise, they could visit the Dream in their sleep. To
visit the Dream was ecstasy to them, a place of unimaginable
pleasure. I designed it this way, with every convenience, so that
the enlightened would attempt to return. It was my hope that those
few that proved themselves to be the most gifted, the most
intelligent and wise, that they would wish to stay forever, and with
my power, I could bring them into my realm, eternally.
=This indeed came to pass. Three vibrant, diverse souls were
among the first to come to the Dream, and are still, to this day, a
part of it. The first was a simple man, of purity unimaginable.
His strength was his complete lack of treachery, and was also his
greatest weakness.
=The second was a woman with the ability to evaluate everything
with a completely unbiased eye. It is possible that I fell in love
with her, so pure was this ability, that I admired it to no end.
=The third was a man, one of complete darkness. His soul was
filled with nothing but self-preservation. He saw everything with
an eye toward utility, in terms of how anything, be it living or
inanimate could benefit him and him alone.
=I suppose it was the purity of these three that allowed them
access to the Dream so strongly. They could focus their minds to
the point where to penetrate the Dream was a simple task. Everyone
can enter the Dream, of course, but very few have the ability to
control it. You do realize, of course, that you are in a part of
the Dream now, do you not? Of course you do, I can tell that from
your mind.=
I nodded.
=Yes. These three were the first, and the best. They knew how to
use the Dream to achieve pleasure, and to further their own needs.
=Hael-Cholaer used it to learn more about himself, and by doing
so, other men. He took this knowledge to the world, and gained a
following of men who were avid students of his philosophy.
=Heraena used it in a similar fashion, but learned about the world
at large, eschewing the study of men, in favor of study of how the
world affected men, so as to judge more fairly. She too gained a
following of mortals, mostly female, who embraced her pure
neutrality toward all things, pure observation without becoming
involved.
=Draen-Dalar... he used the Dream in a way I never quite intended.
Personal gain was all for which he cared, and his use of the dream
was to further his mortal needs. He gained followers, but, of
course, did not care about them in the least. His empire grew
vastly due to the immense knowledge he was able to accrue through
the Dream, and of course, as his wealth grew, so did his hangers-on.
=The Dream went on, and, in time, Draen-Dalar, due to his
exploratory and capitalistic nature, gained knowledge of the others,
and myself. He discovered that we were all in the Dream, and due to
its nature, was able to divine much about us. This link went both
ways, though, and through his link, we became connected in a way
that was never before conceived. We became part of the same being
at that moment, kindred souls, in a way. So diverse, but sharing
something undefinable.
=I decided immediately that I would accept them to the dream, now
and forever, so strong was this bond. I brought them to me, we
melted together, a grand consciousness, a meeting of four souls, it
was pure joy! Our similarities and differences mixed, almost as if
in a dance, our minds locked and exchanged, we were helpless against
the ecstasy! Exhaustion loomed, we were all worn from this, but we
went on, dancing and intermingling, separating, then rejoining, in a
frenzy of life and energy until we all had to retreat before we lost
ourselves in one another!
=In our separation, we all interpreted what we had learned. It
was like this, joining, exhaustion, collapse, joining, exhaustion,
collapse for ages. To mortals, a millennia or more, to us, a
heartbeat! We came together to join once more, but Draen-Dalar was
not among us! Heraena paused a moment, and was gone. Hael-Cholaer
looked at me, with perfect sympathy, and he, too, was gone. I knew,
of course, we all knew, for we knew each other so well. It was time
for them, my children, to grow up.
=It did not surprise me that Draen-Dalar was the first to realize
it. They were not me, I was not them, we just played at it being
so. They had every bit of will in them that they ever had, and the
will needed to be expressed, or they would indeed go mad. I sunk
down in sadness, knowing what was next. I felt, rather than heard
it. A rip, a pull, of some sort, on my essence. Draen-Dalar had
left the Dream, or had at least created more outside of it. This
was followed by two similar sensations as the others departed.
=I was left in my realm, my children's essences all but gone from
it, but never quite totally removed. They had left the Dream, to
pursue the realm beyond, that of consciousness. From the Dream, I
was able to learn of the world beyond, of consciousness. I found
that the Trinity's followers were more or less intact, even after so
long. My children's mysterious disappearances from the mortal realm
was the stuff of legends now, their followers worshipped them as
though they were gods, and, I suppose, as my children, they were.
=In time, As their influence grew, mine waned, for I never
cultivated the Dream as a method of control, more as a way for
mortals to join me, even if only partially. Mortals knew of the
Dream, and of course, still do, but they think of it as a strange
creation of their own minds, not as the realm that it is. The Dream
is what you make it, but it is also the true connection to the Holy.
My children, they learned new and different ways to influence
mortals, and even to create their own children. The result of their
work is the pantheon that you now know.
=After all this, and the eventual direct subversion of my
influence (they try to dissuade their faithful from exploring the
Dream, in fact, you yourself believe me to be a Deceiver, because of
their teachings) Even after all this, I am proud of what they have
become. They, too, have their dream, and I am not the one to tell
them to change it. I watch and I listen, and in the end, I learn
from them. That is the truth that has eluded you for so long.=
I attempted to absorb this. "A tale, without peer."
=A truth, without equal.=
"Yes. But, to me you are, and have been, all my life, a Deceiver.
How do I know that this is not a untruth?"
=You do not. But I ask you, exactly how do you think you were
transported here, you, who never before has ever had the mental
capacity to explore the Dream?=
I started to answer, but the smoke drifted to me, enveloping me,
all went black for a moment, and when I opened my eyes, I was lying,
naked, on the bedchamber floor. "Is this the Dream," I asked aloud,
"or is this real?" but, I already knew the answer. The floor was
hard and cold, the colors drab, not vibrant at all. I laid there,
feeling the chill seep into my body, realizing the pure joy of the
Dream for the first time.
While I was there I experienced ultimate victory against the
sphere. I experienced ultimate comfort, never felt a twinge of any
negativity. I thought with a clarity that I have never before or
since experienced. All of this, gone. I looked around at my
surroundings. A master bedroom, opulent, the home of a rich man.
Empty. I gathered my things, taking care not to disturb anything,
especially the bed.
I started to leave, and realized that I was missing my ring, my
Nazgauga. I searched my pouches, feeling for the orc-head crest of
the ring, to no avail. Scanning the room, I saw the golden gleam
near the cursed bed. I approached, not wanting to touch the bed,
but needing my precious artifact. As I bent to retrieve the ring, I
noticed a plaque on the headboard that I had not seen before. A
simple plaque, made of Mithril, and inscribed in flowery script, the
kind it takes a moment to decipher.
It said, simply, ">-- @ D D @ --<" I leapt back, as if I had been
bitten, nearly tripping in the process. Draen-Dalar, this was his
home! I was in the seat of evil! I needed to escape before other
artifacts of his power would affect me!
From everywhere a voice rumbled... = Yes. =
I fled the mansion, and resolved never to return without serious
preparation. The ancient home of Draen-Dalar, it exists. The world
of the Immortals, it is real, and it is around us. We need only
look, or, in certain cases, _not_ to look. It may well find US.
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