[Dream] Unwanted

[Dlight]

9th of Spring, 511 AV, Coolness brushed against the strong muscles of his leathery wings, fur loose and smooth against his skin. The texture of his deep blue hair felt refreshing, blowing easily from the light Spring breeze instead of sticking to the back of his neck from sweat, and it was then that Dlight realized it was night. Syna hadn't risen yet he was a Zith? His surroundings were hazy, his vision cut short for some reason and making it hard to see farther than an arm's distance away. The grass beneath him was dark, though, a deep emerald green rather than lit bright from the sun. There was a strike of panic that went through him, brought on more by confusion than anything else. Dlight flexed his wings, outstretching them fully and waiting for the heat that always beat down upon them. There was only silence and coolness against them, and instantly a high-pitched screech of joy rushed from the Zith's mouth. Leth had taken pity on him and granted him a night of freedom! Blindly, Dlight pushed off of the grass beneath his bare feet and without an instant of hesitation flapped his strong wings, taking off into the air. All that could be seen was familiar darkness, glimpses of Zintila's shimmers above him sometimes breaking through the hazy edges of his vision. With each star that he saw, the fogginess seemed to clear more, and desperately Dlight searched for more of them throughout the sky, wanting to be able to see clearly that Syna truly wasn't in the sky. After turning spontaneously left and right to track the stars, the fog disappeared to reveal what he hadn't seen in a very, very long time. Spread around him was the deep blue of the night sky lit with stars that were scattered across the horizon, twinkling in delight at being joined with him once again. Leth was full, facing him with a glow that was stronger than ever before and a gaze that seemed to pierce right through to his heart. The Ukalas, Dlight could fly to his God and reach the Ukalas once again! His wings carried him swiftly upwards, struggling against the winds that grew stronger with each flap that carried him higher into the cold, dark sky. The hope and joy that had built within him burst out of him with screams of frustration, his voice echoing throughout the land beneath him. The gusts grew too strong, the temperature too cold despite the fur that kept him warm during the night so many times before, and Dlight found wet, devastating heat falling down his cheeks. At once, his wings gave up their struggle and the Zith began his fall from the sky, black eyes gazing up at the cold, retreating face of the moon. His ears became numb to sound, skin losing all feeling and vision once again growing hazy. Falling, Dlight decided, was the worst feeling of all. After putting so much effort into reaching something, somewhere, the victim's work was dashed away, left to plunge through emptiness until they hit the surface they began on that so beneath them. Up to the last moment before the fallen man's body slapped against the unforgiving surface of the cold ocean, Leth remained in dark eyes.

[Dlight]

The depths of the water only enveloped Dlight enough to wet his freezing skin and soak his hair, the cough coming from his mouth one of panic at the thought of choking on water. He was no Charoda-- he could not breath in the water, and his wings resulted in making him less than a graceless swimmer, attempts resembling more of a chicken trying to float. That problem was solved however, when the water seemed to solidify and morph into something else entirely, the hazy, stinging image of Leth becoming clear once again. Sand was beneath him, the froth of the ocean's tide lapping at his feet, seeming to tease him. Where was he? Grass had been beneath him, and then the endless sky replaced by the deep waters of a nameless ocean. Now the cooled sand of a beach embraced him, trying to hold him even as he rose, grains clinging to his wet fur and the hair of his loincloth. The aches and dizziness that usually accompanied his falls were absent from his body and mind, haze gone although the darkness of the sky still remained. Buildings were around him but the streets were empty, not a sound echoing throughout Alvadas. A gurgled, feminine cough made the Zith's still sitting form jump, his feet splashing against the shallow water that made up the walkways of the city. His flustered movements to raise to his feet resulted in a hand scrambling against the sand, preparing to brace against the grains only to find a sickeningly familiar wetness surrounding his fingers, palm pressing against warm mush that Dlight knew instantly was a open wound. He was a man that opened wounds, not closed them, so when he looked to see exactly what his left clawed hand was buried in and found Quelen lying beside him with a chest wound, Dlight screeched in terror. The Charoda female's body was mutilated beyond recognition aside from the harp she played beside her, her nails and teeth stolen. The wound was one caused by claws, a puncture into the soft, easily broken skin of her race, and Dlight realized he wanted to wake up, now.

[Dlight]

Quelen would never meet that fate because of him-- she was the only person he might have considered a friend. As quick as he'd realized he was dreaming, Quelen's bleeding body began breathing again, her heart muscle slowly working to start up. The raspy inhale of her breath brought coughs, blood from her mouth choking her yet the Charoda insisted on breathing. Logically, Dlight knew that she couldn't possibly be alive after such untreated injuries, but her lidded eyes devoid of pupil stared at him. Her expression was one of hurt and betrayal, and sobs came from Quelen that shook her body that was already wracked in pain. She looked to Dlight for comfort and despite the grisliness of the image his mind painted, he submitted to the will of Nysel, wondering if Ionu had any part in this while forcing himself to inch further towards her. When Quelen's gaze went to his neck, Dlight peered down, bending enough to see what she stared at. Dangling against his chest was a small vial that was splattered with blood, her missing nails and teeth inside. The Zith quickly looked back to Quelen, brows lowering in anger, "No, I didn't do it!" In the back of his mind, the quick image of the crime he was being accused of flashed by, leaving the impression of a silhouette with wings hovering over a fallen, smooth body on sand. "It wasn't her!" Dlight yelled, his voice projected towards the sky rather than at the Charoda, "You know it wasn't her!" He'd killed those of the same race before, yes, but he would never consider taking his friend's life! "Nysel!" He shouted, mind consumed by rage at the God and confusion at the distractions he was being thrown. Shouldn't he be flying towards Leth? He'd been granted this chance-- he couldn't just give up. But then Quelen had appeared and... but she wasn't his God. "Have I disappointed you?" He muttered to himself, "Have you abandoned me?" Quelen no longer breathed, blood no longer running from her veins. "Leth?" The cold face of his God stared down at him, stoic and unwaivering. And then his vision grew hazy, and the night sky sprinkled with teasing, tempting stars brightened, until Dlight awoke in his room at the Wolf's Cave, hair tossed and body damp with sweat. The Ethaefel gave a deep, burdened breath, hands running through his hair, mind trying to ignore the wetness trailing down his cheeks. He cursed.

[Marionette]

Let the illusions guide you...

Player: Dlight

Uh-Oh: Grade withheld due to CS issues. These problems are discussed in the PM I have sent you. Please make the appropriate changes and we can get you set up.

Also, for future references (since I'm not sure if they had this when you were first active), dream threads should be placed in the Dreamscapes forum nowadays. It's a pretty nifty place. Also, note that dreams are only awarded lores, and kind of rarely, but if you fix things, I can see what I can do.

Have a nice day.