[Traveler's Row] Waking from Nightmares (solo)

[Airil]

20th Night, Fall 510 A.V. Airil lay in bed and tried to understand why she was awake. The night was silent and there was little light in the room. So, what had woken her? She yawned sleepily and shut her eyes, hoping sleep would bring her back into its embrace. Only a few moment had passed before she gave up and returned to her pondering. She didn't know what it was, but something felt wrong. She moved to scratch her nose and realized that it wasn't just a feeling. She tried to move her hand again but couldn't. Something was wrapped around her wrist, something that only tightened with tension. Panic filled her as she realized that at some point while she had slept, someone had entered her room and tied her to the bed. Suddenly, she was wide awake. The faintest sound floated through the room. Airil sucked in a breath and held it. She thought, she could have sworn... Her ears strained to listen for it to come again. Her name floated, past, little more than a faint and sighing whisper. A figure stepped from the shadows, their face still concealed by darkness. They moved closer to stand over her and the bed where she was held captive. “Who,” she began in a voice strangled by fear. A glint next to the figure ceased her query. Her heart seemed to stop as a knife was laid gently against her cheek. Airil's experiences had taught her that the worst thing to do in this situation was to resist. She held completely still as the knife began to move. The knife caressed her jaw. It came up to kiss her trembling lips, fogging with her ragged breath. Finally, it moved to trace her gnosis mark, wet with tears that she had no control over. It was there that the knife began to carve. There was nothing that Airil could do to stop this man. At first, as the knife followed her mark, cutting it into her flesh, she could do little more than cry out with the pain. He finished with the mark and the knife ripped across her cheek before hovering in front of her face as the attacker considered his next move. He pulled back the blankets that covered her and made quick work of tearing her nightgown apart with the knife. She sobbed all the harder because it had been a precious gift from her late master. The knife went back to its gentler caresses, slowly tracing shapes over her bare skin. “Plead,” came the rough but quiet voice. Airil knew that she needed to comply but couldn't get out more than a whimpering sob. The cuts in her face burned so much that she could hardly think. The knife moved suddenly to slash open the inside of her right thigh causing Airil to scream. Surely someone would hear her. Someone would come to help. “Plead!” The voice was angry now. Airil heaved in a breath and, finally finding her voice, she pleaded. It wasn't good enough, or else the figure didn't care. He slashed open her other thigh and Airil nearly passed out from the pain of it all. A sharp slap across the face brought her back from the edge. The knife was still held between her legs and she realized what the next target was. She sobbed and begged him to stop. A low chuckle rumbled through his chest, rising up in his throat. She could see his smile even though she still couldn't see the rest of his face. The knife moved, thrusting violently into her. Airil screamed....

[Airil]

…and jolted upright in the bed. The smoldering embers of her dead fire lit the room in a dull red glow. A dream... a nightmare. She looked frantically around the room. There was no mysterious figure lurking in the shadows. Her hand went to her cheek, but the only moisture there was the tears she had shed in her sleep. The blood hadn't been real, the pain... She rushed to the hole that served as a window, sticking her head through in the hope that the cool night air would clear her head a little. It seemed to work. As the moments passed she started to feel significantly better and the dream seemed to be fading from her mind. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed movement down on the street. Who might be wandering the streets at this hour? Her eyes squinted to see through the darkness. Before she knew it she was on the street, chasing after the figure. The way it moved was so familiar. But it couldn't be him. It rounded the corner that she was still so far from. She tried to move faster but it was too late. The figure was gone. There was nothing but an empty street. She kept moving down the street anyways, hoping the figure might reappear. In the distance she could hear some sort of alarm. Marching footsteps echoed down the street. Hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her into an alleyway. Airil tried to scream but the hands clamped over her mouth before spinning her around. “Markus!” He looked just as he had at the tavern except that his hair was wild and his face was twisted in a look of concern. “What have you done?” He was urgently pulling her down the alley with him. His question caught her off guard. “What do you mean?” She was having a hard time keeping up with him despite the fact that he had a tight grip on her cloak. He spun around on her. “The guards... they're looking for you!” Airil could only shake her head. He put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes, “Whatever you've done, I'm sure it's a misunderstanding. I can help you if you'll let me.” “But I haven't done anything.” He was already moving as she replied. She reached out to grab his tunic with her left hand and froze. She wasn't wearing her gloves. It was too late. Markus was already staring at the mark on her hand, his face twisted in disgust. He grabbed her hand and shoved it away. “So that's why,” his eyes raised to hers, a look of betrayal evident, “you're a slave.” Footsteps rang out behind her. She turned to find two knights approaching, another figure silhouetted behind them. Turning back, she hoped to plead with Markus, but he was gone. The knight that stood in his place grabbed her and shoved her forward. The other two knights parted and she was thrust into the arms of the figure. “You're property, sir.” Markus's voice. She looked at the knight to find Markus's cold eyes staring at her through the helmet. The knight hadn't replaced him, he was the knight. He and the other turned and walked away. The figure had grabbed on to her but she struggled. “Markus!” She screamed out his name...

[Airil]

...She was running. Ducking through alleys and causeways, she was following the same path that Rhuryc had led her down, but now there was no one to lead her and there were footsteps giving chase behind her. Her heart was pounding and she knew that she wouldn't be able to keep up this pace much longer. She was going to have to stop but when she did they would catch her. She burst out of a street, into the Stone Garden. It shouldn't be here, and it wasn't. The garden was different now. The stones had given way to a tree. She knew without being told that this was no ordinary tree. It was the Windoak. The chasing steps had faded away and now the only sound was the wind whispering through the branches. A frog, but not a real frog, was hopping away, around the tree. Hopstop! She circled the tree, following the frog, and was surprised to find Hadrian on the other side. He was standing next to the trunk, with his hand laid against it, whispering back to the tree. He looked up at her approach, smile a quiet kind of smile, a faded out of sight. This didn't seem at all unnatural to Airil, who simply stepped up to take his place with her hand against the tree. “Airil.” The voice didn't come from the tree as she had half expected, instead, it came from behind her. A hot breath fell on her neck and something glinted out of the corner of her eye. “Plead,” came the harsh voice as something bit into her skin. She could feel the blood flowing from her cheek again. However she couldn't cry out this time. She couldn't even breath. Airil was terrified. She knew without a doubt that he was going to kill her this time. The wind whipped around them and she thought he said something as he slashed at her arm. She whimpered in response. The noise came again, but this time she realized it wasn't from him. It was from the tree. She was spun around by her assailant. Her master... all along this figure had been her master. He sneered at her, the knife pressing against her chest, ready to pierce her heart. Somehow, in an impossible event, the tree shed its quiet attempts and a voice rang out, “WAKE UP.”

[Airil]

Airil's first reaction upon waking had been to rush to the bathroom where, without any significant food in her stomach, she ended up dry heaving for some minutes. She was grateful that no one seemed to be disturbed by any noise she may have made. She made her way back to her room and began to build up the fire to chase away the shadows. The room was soon cheery looking, completely lacking the menace that had lurked in her dream. Once she was sure that the fire was no longer in need of her attention, she moved to a small mirror. Her fingers traced her mark and the place where her cheek had been injured in the dream. The pain was still a vivid memory. It made her want to run back to the bathroom but she swallowed the feeling. All the dreams had been so real, even when she'd noticed the nightgown that was still back in Ravok, she hadn't suspected anything. The scariest fact was that the first dream had almost been real before. Someone had threatened to do just what had happened in her dream, that one terrifying night when her master had sent her away. It was a memory that definitely still haunted her, that had made her skin crawl anytime anyone had touched her. She tried to force the memory out of her mind. Her eyes moved over her own face before falling to the scar on her left cheek. Her master had given her that scar. While in one of his moods he had struck her, not realizing that he still wore a ring with a large stone on his hand. The doctor hadn't been able to keep the wound from scarring, and they'd both been left with a reminder of his moods and her misbehavior. It was not her only scar, but it was the hardest to hide. Why had she dreamt that her master had been her attacker? He had never hurt her that badly. The idea was wrong, and the tree. She was too grateful that something had pulled her out of the dreams to really analyze that part. Airil sank away from the mirror, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. Her mother had tried to teach her the meaning of dreams, so long ago. Airil couldn't remember any of it now. Wasn't sure she wanted to understand the nightmares. She hoped that by morning they would fade from her mind, she certainly wouldn't be going back to sleep that night. Instead she sat, staring blankly across the room, waiting for dawn to break. END

[Dusk]

XP Award! Airil XP Award: Lore Award: Horrific Nightmares, Dreams of Betrayal, Memories of Wounds Received Ledger: Additional Note This sequence was fantastic! I love the detail put in, and the shift from one to another, as well as the acceptance of things that don't make sense - totally captured the way dreams feel. I have an idea for an adventure for you if you're up for it.