Darkness Rising - cowritten work

[Peredhil]

Archmage: Reincarnation from Hell, Archmage Bulletin Board : Conservatory -> Stories

 

Yui Temae - Author's Introduction:

 

This is written for and by myself, Zool and Peredhil. I would ask that the rest of you please restrain yourselves from writing here, for now... You'll get your chance in one of the other threads, but if you're desperate, start your own.

 

Well, Zool and Peredhil, you'd better be prepared by now. I'm afraid, in typical Yui style, I've written a sizeable introduction to the story already. Do with it what you will, and if you don't want to do something with it yet I'll likely add more tomorrow. This is completely freeform, meaning that I have no particular plan (or at least, if I do have something in mind, I fully expect you two to mutate it into something completely different with your own writings ) but want to give you free reign throughout the story to guide it in whatever direction you want. In some ways, this means that whoever posts controls the story, I guess. I'm rather fond of this method because we get to challenge each other by throwing puzzles or obstacles in the way.

 

If you're scratching your head, There's Always a Tavern was a freeform roleplaying story. We just ... wrote it in turns, without a direction in mind. When someone had a good idea of where to take things, they just ... did.

 

Now, then... since I've already written a small book for this thread... I think I'd better start.

[Peredhil]

Yui-Temae:

" You’ll find, I think, that the battle you are trying to fight is the wrong one. This war of insults and debate will go nowhere until t" ... The rest of the words faded into illegibility, the neatly-formed script shrinking down to nothing but a scribble. Beside the page, her fingers still loosely gripping the shaft of the quill, Yui-chan lay with her head on her arm, fast asleep. The guttering candle on the tabletop beside her sent shadows dancing across her features, creating motion on the stillness of her smooth, fair skin and lighting the tired circles that underlined her eyes. In the stillness of deepest night, the only sound was the rhythmic whisper of her breath stirring one corner of the yellowed parchment.

 

But even in sleep, peace eluded the Huntress-mage, and her brow furrowed in consternation as the dream began...

 

‘One.’ The voice closed around her heart like a vise, stopping it cold. Unable to move, unable to breathe, she could feel the cold seeping into her core, into her soul. Without motion, she struggled, fighting to hold onto a light that was quickly extinguishing, a warmth that was fading to nothing under the onslaught of pitch black. ‘We are One.’

 

She wanted to scream, wanted to shout her desire to stay apart, to keep herself, but she was not free to do so. ... and she knew she was losing, caught between the enemy without and the enemy within, fighting a battle against hopeless odds. As the realization stabbed into what was left of her heart, she cried silently, tears sliding down her cheeks as the void closed over her shoulders, crawling its way along the soft skin of her neck.

 

Fear joined the grief as she reached desperately for the soft, flickering light that pierced the blackness high above her head. ‘Help me,’ she whispered, the void flowing around her ears and along her cheekbones as she strained, stretching her hand as best she could. Silence was her answer, but there was never a chance for another plea.

 

With finality, the icy darkness flowed into and over the only color left, swallowing the grey-green of her terror-filled eyes...

 

Yui-chan awoke with a violent jerk, her arm whipping across the surface of the desk in a desperate attempt to protect herself from nothing at all, sending parchments, quills, a wax stick, and her glass inkwell to the ground in a flurry of chaotic motion. The crash of the fragile container against the bare stone of her chamber floor only made the Huntress jump again, watching in mild shock as the pitch black liquid flowed around the broken glass and across the stones towards her bare feet. For a moment, she could only stare in mute horror as it moved, the imagery of her dream flashing before her eyes...

 

It reached for her, staining her with its grip, infecting her with ice and emptiness.

 

With a little yelp, Yui shoved her chair back, only further damaging her shattered nerves as the chair toppled with a terrible clatter. Unnerved, shaking, unreasonably terrified, the young human backed away from the dark puddle as if it truly could harm her, wide eyes fixed on its every motion. As her nervous retreat took her to the foot post of her canopied bed, she reached out absently to grab a hold of the sturdy wood, using its strength to restore what she could of her own.

 

After a moment, the magess managed to tear her gaze from the innocent ink, closing them in an effort to gain control of her rampaging fear. G-gods... calmly. It was a nightmare, only a nightmare. As she sank weakly onto the soft mattress, she took a deep breath, wondering why she did not quite believe that. Calmly... Yui sat motionless on the edge of her bed for long moments, forcing herself to breathe and simply concentrate all her attention on the steady rhythm of those breaths. Eventually, she felt composed enough to open her eyes and force herself to look carefully over the room.

 

With the exception of the mess that she’d made around the desk, everything looked normal, the deep shadows growing deeper as the nub of candle began to burn to its wick end. Heaving a deep sigh, Yui pushed back to her feet and went to the cupboard to fetch a spare candle. At this moment, the last thing she wanted was for the light to die in the room, leaving her in total darkness on such a moonless night. It would come for her, then, and –

 

Stop that! There’s nothing going to come get you, Yui. It was just a nightmare. Her anger at herself momentarily overshadowed her fear, and she strode across the room to the dying candle, quickly using its flame to ignite its younger twin. Are you a child to be skulking about your chambers like a mouse because of a dream? Yes, it was frightening, and felt very real, but it was nothing, a figment of your exhausted imagination. Ebon is silent and under control, way too weak to be any danger! You’ve just been working too hard, worrying too much, and fighting too often because of this war.

 

The Huntress nodded to herself, carrying the lit candle over to her bedstand and slipping it into a spare holder there. Now, stop quaking like a mouse and get some sleep. The letter to the guilds can wait until morning. Despite her determination, Yui-chan could not stop the fear from returning as she slipped under the soft covers...

 

She fell asleep with the candle still burning on the little table beside her, and a chilling voice echoing through her thoughts.

 

‘One. We are One...’

[Peredhil]

Zool:

High on the crags of Lonely Mountain, a perpetual storm whipped at the crumbling battlements of an ancient castle. Thunder cracked, the lightning brilliantly strobing the rainsoaked stone and bare mountain peak the castle rests on. A thin track wound it's way up to the castle gate, which stood open, for who would want to come here?

 

Deep in the castle a sinister figure sits. It is a large room, the walls covered by black curtains. The only light is from a small glowing brazier some distance behind the seated figure. Cloaked in black, nothing can be seen of the mysterious mage. A large ball, perfectly ground from black crystal, is floating in front of the figure. He appears to be concentrating, meditating on the crystal ball. "We are one…" he whispers hoarsely. "We are one."

 

Sparks begin to flash within the ball…

 

* * * * *

 

At the outer edges of consciousness, beyond the plane of fear, lies the place where dreams are made. In this realm between the light of today and the darkness of nevermore, of mis-spent regrets of the past and deep desires for what may never come, the Dream Weaver steadily labors.

 

To the heavenly sounds of the roiling celestial symphony, gleaming strands of infinite minutia are wound together in her loom of the unconscious, skillfully depicting the pattern of scenes and actions we see in our slumbering. We can see the the larger pattern, but the secrets of the weave are hers alone.

 

She worked tirelessly at her loom, flying the shuttle, kicking the beater, constantly monitoring the weft and the warp. The strands she constantly checked and snipped, weaving the dreams she knew the dreamer would dream, with complete confidance and perfect skill. But then something made her pause…

 

She looked at the Jet black strand again in disbelief. This couldn't be right, she thought, staring up the length of the thread. But as was often the case, it was very difficult to make out details from outside of her realm, and it's origin quickly became indistinguishable amoung the infinite other meta-urges somewhere in the darker reaches of the Omniverse.

 

She had seen all manner of dreams, all manner of horrors and delights, of fantasies and memmories, but something just wasn't right here. She had no choice but to use the strand, that was clear, but the fiber was of a severity she had rarely seen, it made her hand grow cold just to hold it. Checking the warp of the tapestry in progress, showing the horrible mismatch that was occuring out of the golden thread of the dreamer and the jet black thread available to her, she knew she would have to take action, as a tear was imminent with this strand.

 

She Took a careful look at several of the other tapestries being completed that night. "Ah-ha," she said at the sight of what she needed. Deftly she picked up the silver shears and snipped a glowing thread, skillfully working it into the shuttle and letting it fly. The tapestry continued in a now workable pattern.

 

Thus a new strand was was worked into the pattern, adding a new dimension to the twisting influence of the jet black thread. The Dream Weaver smiled a little smile in satisfaction at her work.

 

* * * * *

 

A sleeping figure lies in a jumbled mass of rags on the floor. The stone and wood room is dark, the one window boarded up. He mumbles to himself, deep in a dream.

 

He is dreaming of when he was a child. His father is near, the one light of his life. He is laughing and at peace, when the sky darkens. This is what normally happens in the dream, just before he sees the burned, mangled remains of what moments before was his father.

 

Suddenly something different happens. He looks up, and sees a furious dark storm approaching from the east. Then he looks west, at brilliant fleecy white clouds, and at a ray of sun which breaks free, picking him out, illuminating him like a god. The storm descends, and lashes him with it's fury. He feels the storm try to blow through him, trying disintegrate his spirit. "We are one," he hears. "We are one." The icy chill of the storm starts to penetrate the sunray he is caught in, and for a moment he feels as though his flesh is about to freeze, only to burst from the fiery heat of the sun…

 

But the cold cannot penetrate far. He feels a young woman near. She is the sun! He sees her features in bas-relief on the photosphere, and her hair and ebon cloak as flowing coronas waving in the cosmic wind. Together they bear the torment of the storm, easing it for each other somewhat. They are new to each other, but yet, they have something powerful in common… And then she breaks free. Like a lamp blown out, her flame is gone. He watches as in the blink of an eye she retreats back to the sky.

 

He sits bolt upright in his bed of rags, sweat pouring from his brow in the frigid air. Rats squeak at his sudden movement and scurried to the safety of their holes.

 

Outside the perpetual storm beat against the boarded up window. "I had better check with the master," he thought half aloud as he crawled from his bed and felt for the door. The storm had been more severe of late, which he knew meant he would be needed shortly.

[Peredhil]

Zool:

As he climbed the steep winding stair up to his master's chamber, his mind returned to the dream he had just experienced.

 

For years he had been having the same dream, of his boyhood happiness, and then the death of his father when the marauders came and sold him into slavery. But that was 20 years ago, and a slave he might as well have been all his life.

 

But why the change now? He wondered at the hard real feeling of the storm, and the sun, and the woman's presence...

 

Most dreams were fleeting, unreal phantoms that left an impression, and then left. But not this one. This one felt so REAL! He would never forget the woman's face, literally burned into his memory like the rays of the sun.

 

He was nearing the chamber now, and his mind tried to return to his tasks, but still a part of him lingered on the dream. He hoped he would see the woman again, but was afraid he would also find the storm...

[Peredhil]

Peredhil:

Yui dived under the covers and snuggled next to Aegon. As always he slept on his back. Burrowing under his arm, she nestled her head against his chest and let the calm rhythms of his breathing and heart lull her fears.

Aegon's calm presence was the sun from whose shadows she walked and returned. Until now.

 

We are One

 

A chill frission wracked her frame and she snuggled even closer to her Love, pulling the comforter higher over her head.

Waking suddenly, she felt smothered by her coverings. Clawing her way from under the twisted blankets, she broke air like a dolphin emerging from warm waters.

The shadows danced eerily in the flickering flames of the chamber's many candles. As her heart subsided to a slower rhythm she chided herself for being caught like a child in fribbling thoughts.

 

The shadows reached for her contrary to the their natural movements.

 

Looming high over the bed, shrinking to naught, they approached steadily, slipping like an odor through the wards.

 

Yui faced them with a certain confidence - Shadows she walked, Shadows she travelled, Shadows she controlled.

 

Sitting up, heedless of the blanket slipping down to pool at her waist, Yui lunged forward and caught one of the approaching shades. Flipping its extremity around her hand rapidly, she sent a surge of power that blasted its Essence.

 

A narrowing of eyes and a moment's concentration and she held a shadow Whip. Snapping it with lightning flicks she began to drive the other Shadows back from the bed.

 

Play with the Huntress?

 

Her teeth gleamed like pearls as she bared them in a snarl.

Flick.

Flick.

As her Whip struck the Shadows, holes began to tear and run with in them.

 

Advancing from the bed, she herded them toward the center of the Chamber.

 

Whirling the Whip around rapidly, she enfused it with power until its core was Stygian blackness, an aching hunger, and then lashed it forward to encircle the night marauders.

With a pop, they imploded.

 

Someone will pay for this!

 

Turning back to the bed, the light in her green-grey eyes went out.

 

Aegon lay lifeless, a cloying black veil resting over his nose and mouth.

 

With a scream, Yui awoke.

 

The shadows danced eerily in the flickering flames of the chamber's many candles.

Rumbling in the recesses of her mind, a Cheshire Smile and a voice.

 

We are One...

 

She spent the rest of the sleepless night watching Aegon peacefully sleep.

 

* * * * *

 

With a hoarse chuckle, the mage jerkily heaved himself erect. The sparks in the crystal had begun to die; the brazier's flames had sunk to reddened coals.

 

As he moved to shovel more fires into the gold-washed basin, his black robe was revealed to be closer to the color of a buboe's dark clots of blood, a sickenish blackish-red hue.

 

Moving back to the floating ball, he allowed his shadow to play across it.

 

Lightning thundered in response as his anguished scream fought through the curtained walls to fuel with the raging storm.

 

We are ONE!

 

* * * * *

 

The child sat at the Dream Weaver's feet, lolling as bonelessly as a sleeping puppy. His large dark eyes watched the bottom of her embroidery, the flickering needle and stitches. From his position, the fabric is a tangled weave of threads, dangling blacks and browns, knotted yellows and blues, broken greens and whites.

"Why do you stitch such an ugly thing when the finished ones are so pretty?

The Dream Weaver smiled down and nudged him with a slippered foot.

Graeson, you see only the back, not the face shown to the world.

Stirring and stretching, the youth complained sleepily.

I think it's ugly. And why do you always call me by Father's name. I know I'm his son. Who am I?

The needle hovered and stopped, trembling.

Dearest child, if I called you by your true Name, you would awaken to your self leave me.

I'd never leave you! the young man protested, eyes flashing.

Turning the embroidery, the Dream Weaver showed the man the other side.

Golden flowers carpeted a grassy glen, framed by hoary trees in which nightingales sang.

Not all threads' Weave

Are as they first perceive

The tangled paths of Dream

Contain more than they seem...

 

With a start, the Dream Weaver jerked awake.

Rapidly her fingers sorted the thousand threads that had spun into being, her shuttle flashing in and out of the Warp and Weave, the threads passing on and out of sight as she wondered what Hand had laid such a memory on her.

 

With a frown she noted that while she'd nodded, the jet black thread had strengthened. The golden thread had been caught in others, several threads so braided and wound together that the individuals could hardly be distinguished. All together they spun around the black thread as ivy around a Doric column.

 

Her frown was tinged with fear, for sometimes the Loom weaved the Weaver...

[Peredhil]

Yui-Temae:

The growing fire of the sun’s light slanted into the bedchamber, extinguishing the night’s shadows with the power of its indomitable will. They died slowly and without protest, simply fading from existence as if they had never been, as if they had not spent the long hours of darkness tormenting the young woman who watched them from the warmth of her bed.

 

As light flooded the room, Yui drew a deep, shuddering breath and cuddled more closely against Aegon’s warm side, her arm draped protectively over his chest. They’d both been so exhausted lately, expending great amounts of time and energy and mana on the war effort that it was no surprise to her that he had slept so deeply through the night. He so needed the rest, and she could only be glad that she had not woken him with the ravages of her nightmares.

 

Gods... As she ran her fingers gently along the smooth skin of his cheek, the memory of her most recent nightmare assaulted her, sending a blade of ice through her heart. For a moment, she imagined him laying lifeless beside her as he had been in the dream, and the pain nearly caused her to cry out aloud. Gods, I could never live without you, my love. It would kill me to see you like that... I know it. A single tear sliding slowly down her cheek attested to the depth of the Huntress’ fear as she held onto the man she loved and tried desperately to forget what it had felt like to see his cold body.

 

*******

 

"I wish you did not have to go." Yui chided herself for the tears stinging her eyes, repeating for the thousandth time, that day, that they had only been nightmares, that there was nothing to fear. She clung to Aegon, shivering slightly despite the warmth of the day, as he wrapped his arms around her in a tender embrace.

 

"As do I, my love, but you know I don’t have a choice. We may be at war, but that doesn’t mean I can ignore my duties as diplomat to the other guilds of Terra." Her lover sighed softly, brushing his lips across her forehead in a feather-light caress. "I’ll be gone for just a few days."

 

Protected by his warmth, it was easy to feel like the dreams and the fear were silly and foolish and childish, so Yui merely nodded and forced a small smile. "I will wait for your return with my usual impatience, dearest heart. Be very careful." As she lifted her face to his for a kiss, she added a prayer to her words, Gods bring you back to me safely.

 

When their lips parted, Aegon gave his lady love a warm, heartfelt smile and gently traced a finger along the darkened circles under her eyes. "I promise, worrier. And you have to promise me that you’ll get some rest. I don’t want to come home to find you laying abed, ill, because you’ve been exhausting yourself."

 

"I promise." ... and, with one last loving kiss, he was on his horse and gone...

[Peredhil]

Yui-Temae:

*******

 

Somehow, Yui made it through the day, despite being exhausted, worried, and constantly chilled. She did not miss the looks the staff gave her as she went about the business of the kingdom, looks that spoke to just how much of a mark the stressful and sleepless night had left on her face, however she said nothing and refused to complain. She may have felt weak and tired, but the people and the army needed her attention. There would be time to fulfill her promise to Aegon later, when the letter to the guilds was finished and the recruiting reports had been read.

 

It was not until well after sundown, as she sat curled in a chair before the fireplace in her bedchamber, that the true weight of her exhaustion reached the Huntress. As her chambermaid, Soi, turned down the covers in the too-big bed, her mistress watched with heavy lids, barely able to summon the will to bring the teacup in her hand to her lips and sip the soothing liquid.

 

"Do you require anything else, Yui-chan?" Soi approached the chair, sweat glistening on her brow in the firelight.

 

Shivering, Yui answered, "No, my friend. I will add a few logs to the fire and then get my rest. Go and sleep well, tonight."

 

The maid hesitated, frowning, until Yui was prompted to tilt her head curiously and ask, "What is it, Soi? You know you can speak to me freely."

 

"It is just ..." Soi gently reached out to her magess, pressing a hand to her wan cheek. "Yui, it is as hot as the great sun in this room, yet your skin feels as though you have been out in the deep winter. Let me fetch the healer to you."

 

Smiling weakly, the Huntress shook her head and patted her maid’s hand. "I feel fine, Soi. You need not bother Nakarei at this hour. I did not sleep well at all, last night, and I fear that my body has slowed because of that. You know how exhaustion cools the fires that power a mage."

 

With a displeased sigh, Soi nodded and then bowed respectfully. "Very well. Call if you have any need of me. Oyasuminasai, Yui-chan."

 

" Yasumi, Soi." Yui watched the woman cross the stone floor and leave the room, closing the thick, wooden door behind her. Ill... no, I’m not ill. I’m as afraid as I’ve never been before. Every time I glance at a shadow or pass the darkness, my heart beats like a panicked rabbit’s. What is wrong with me? I am a ‘Walker! I control the Shadows, linking space through the common darkness. Being afraid of that darkness is absolutely ridiculous...

 

With a weary sigh, she stood, dragging herself and her blanket across the chamber to the bed. ... absolutely ridiculous. Yui-chan stared down at the empty expanse of white cotton bedding, a sense of dread settling in her chest. At that moment, she missed Aegon’s presence more than ever before, desperately wishing he were there to reason away her fears.

 

But he’s not, and you can’t hover beside your bed all night. You’re just exhausted and irrational... You need sleep. The truth of that final point spurred her into motion when nothing else would, and the young woman crawled into a bed gently lit by the flickering fire in the hearth. While she pulled and settled the covers around her body, she kept her eyes on the patches of light that skittered over the plastered walls, avoiding the frightening depth of the encompassing shadows by refusing to look at them. It was only as she settled down against that pillows that her glance brushed the darkness beyond the firelight, and Yui shuddered against a sudden chill. It’s nothing... nothing.

 

Repeating that simple phrase in her head like a protective ward, the young woman slowly slipped off into an exhausted slumber... and as the last vestiges of wakefulness left her, one ephemeral finger of darkness spread down the wall, falling across her forehead.

 

One... We are one...

[Peredhil]

Peredhil:

It seemed as if he'd been climbing these same steep stairs forever. Strange echoes reverberated through his mind, the many times he'd climbed to his Master's chamber.

 

Sometimes the Master would have him sit at his feet silently and they'd watch the storm together. Other times he'd make him peer into the Black Crystal and tell him stories.

 

He paused. That's where he'd seen that face before! That exquisite face! He'd been dreamily watching the ball, idly listening to the story his lips told of a Princess and her Golden Ball, when he'd seen that face!

 

It had peered slyly from the shadows, watching Flames dance and Winds blow hard, with one raised eyebrow and a melancholy air.

 

He stopped in his story, barely mindful of his Master's hoarse whisper prompting him, his gnarled misshapen hands cradling his head.

 

Then they'd - NO!

 

He stood shuddering on the stairs, forcing his mind to think nothing. NOTHING.

 

Slowly his breathing calmed. A tremor passes over his body and his eyes regained their grey-green luster.

 

As he climbed the steep winding stair, his mind tentatively reached out to the dream he'd just experienced...

 

* * * * *

 

The Dream Weaver returned from adjusting the Loom's pegs. The fabric was under great tensions of late, threatening to tear itself in its torments.

Unwillingly she found herself drawn to the Black Strand.. She arrived just in time to see a red thread snap. The severed strand jerked back coiling, then slowly turned black.

 

In moments it had been absorbed into the Black Strand.

 

She shuddered with horrific fascination. Her hand reached out to touch the repellent black, then jerked back.

 

Moving to her chair, she picked up her sewing and soon her needle was flashing furiously in the flickering light.

 

* * * * *

 

The Master stood in the center of the room. The warm humid air beaded moisture on the stained walls. Streaks of black mold and green algae outlined the rough stone blocks.

 

The fetid slime made strange moire patterns on the bare skin of the man chained to the wall.

 

We Are One!

 

At the hoarse cry, the chained man raised his head. Glazed blue eyes glared through the damp strands of brick-red hair curtaining his face.

 

Never he snarled.

 

The Master smiled at the show of spirited defiance. They both knew at this point how hollow it was.

 

Moving forward, the Master raised a gloved hand slowly. The prisoner flinched in reflex.

 

Struggle my beauty, I need you to fight with all you have. Your beautiful essence. Your Will was strong, so strong.

 

In a voice that make a mockery of love, the Master whispered. Have you been having Bad Dreams? Shall we play The Game again?

 

Sick loathing rose in the blue eyes, then they focused inwardly in rage and desperation. The chains rattled like rain as his muscles began to swell, old scabs tearing and flaking away. Strange mind-twisting patterns of scars flashed a silver-white network against the reddening flesh.

 

As the gloved hand touched his forehead, he finally flashed into Berserker Frenzy.

 

Veins swelled and snaked like rapidly growing vines under his skin. His nose and eyes began to bleed.

 

One massive arm flexed. The chain's links popped; the broken wrist seemed a small distant price to pay for such freedom.

 

The Master retreated several steps and began crooning a eerily welcoming raspy note.

 

Turning slightly, the Berserker ripped his other arm free. He seemed unmindful of the heart's spurts of blood or glistening bone at his wrist.

 

Turning with an animal howl, he flung himself at his tormenter.

 

ONE! Screamed the Master as the Berserker's scar-Glyphed body hit his.

 

Only one body hit the door. The Master's cloaked figure writhed, expanding and contracting wildly as he screamed his throat raw once more in lickerish exultant agony.

 

Finally straightening, he opened his cloak with shaking hands and let the blood-streaked bones fall.

 

Tucking a long strand of brick-red hair back under into the dark abysmal depths of the hood, his triumph whisper echoed in the empty chamber.

 

We are one.

 

Staggering to the door, he hoped that the new one would prove to be this strong.

 

Back in his Chamber, he focusing his gaze on her, he extended a whispering shadow across her sleeping face.

 

One... We are one...

 

Letting a flicker of his essence rest on her to stain her dreams, he allowed himself to rest in observation of her beauty.

 

Corrupting this one would be difficult and slow.

 

The anticipation was exquisite agony.

 

"Anata wa haru ichiban no sakura no yoni utsukushii..." He murmured, then started at hearing the words leaving his lips.

 

He must be careful with this one. One.

 

One... We are One

[Peredhil]

Peredhil:

Yui felt a chill as she stared off the balcony into the lemony morning light. She warmed her hands on the tea Soi had brought, but her Love wasn't back to warm her heart.

 

She felt very uncharacteristically small and frightened like a mouse cowering below the monotonous circles of the hawk. Everytime she examined the fear, it sparked a white hot anger that she should feel this way. But the helplessness seeped crept back in and snuffed the anger.

 

One... We are One...

 

Far down in the hidden depths of her soul, a shadow best left alone stirred in its slumber. Raising a sleepy head, it fluttered silver eyes and subsided again, murmuring soft noises.

 

Yui's body was wracked by a chill, causing a tsunami in the tea cup. A dark foreboding spun up like a spiral of bats to torment her.

 

* * * * *

 

After the endless climb up the tower stairs, he found himself staring at the cold iron ring that opened the silver-banded door.

Outside the storm howled and raged with a sick berserk fury, beating at the stalwart tower.

The ring would be heavy as always, and the cold would bite at his hand.

With a sigh, he opened the door to his Master's Chamber.

 

A shadow slipped in unnoticed at his heels.

 

* * * * *

 

"Mommy, can I weave too?"

"Hush-a-nonnie sweetlings," she crooned as her hands flicked in and out of the Loom. "you're much too real and not enough dream. Like as not, you'd be pulled into someone's dream and then where would you be!"

She smiled at the serious frown on his face as he considered her warning.

 

"Mommy, what's a Dream?"

 

* * * * *

 

The Master fairly rippled with power as he avidly gloated over something in the crystal.

Perhaps he shouldn't have come here to the chamber. But he'd felt a pull - The Master answered his unspoken thought.

"Yes, come gaze into the Crystal." .

As always when the storm raged like this, he felt much more real than the Master. It was like waking in a fever dream, complete to the ringing in his ears after every clap of thunder.

The Curtains billowed suddenly and a man stood confronting the Master.

 

* * * * *

 

The Master gazed in puzzlement for a moment.

"I haven't summoned you. Go away." Looking around, he saw his slave standing fearfully near the door.

"You! Come here."

The Man walked between the youth and the Master and stood staring at him. The Master met the intense red glare for a moment.

"A vampire? I have no time for you. I've had too many. Go away. I don't want you. I want my slave," he said in a querulous tone.

 

The Vampire snarled at being brushed aside so dismissively. Stepping forward, it once again sought the Master's eyes, this time raising its hand in a compelling gesture.

 

The Master ignored it.

 

"Boy. Come here now!" The ragged figure began edging helplessly past the Vampire. With a gutteral cry of fury, the Vampire grasp the youth's arm, who fell to his knees with a cry of agony at the icy grasp.

 

The Master stood and walked forward with an inevitable motion. The Vampire looked up at the motion, and froze in the Master's gaze.

The Master's leather gloves carefully pried the young man from the Vampire's grasp.

With a convulsive jerk, the Vampire slashed a taloned hand at the Master's face!

 

* * * * *

 

His arm felt bruised where the Vampire'd gripped him. His spirit felt bruised at the Vampire's ruthless attempt to grasp and drain it. Shaken he remained kneeling.

 

Above him he heard echoes in the Master's voice as his hoarse whisper said " Sozo ijo no mono deshta...

"Pardon Master? I do not understand."

"Nothing of importance. I am One with another that I didn't want. I've gone as far as I desire that way. Unfortunate."

 

With gentle hands the Master lifted him up.

 

"Come, let us gaze together and see what we see."

 

* * * * *

 

Yui watched with impassive face and beating heart as the Messenger whipped his lathered horse for a sprint to the House.

 

The news he bore must be of great urgency.

 

She moved inside to prepare herself to recieve him.

[Peredhil]

Yui-Temae:

The messenger strode through the hallway, urgency in his every motion and the intense gaze in his pitch-black eyes. Servants scrambled to get out of his path after he had knocked the first young page aside who had moved too slowly, gawking in surprise at the unexpected disturbance. There was obviously something of great importance in the man’s business, and it instantly pricked the curiosity of the entire staff. So little out of the ordinary ever happened here at the castle nestled snugly on the shared border of Aegon’s Nether lands and Yui’s Ascendant ones that the curious whispers were quick to bloom through the grey-stone corridors, spreading along them and into the high-ceilinged space of the Great Hall. The sound buzzed among the assembled men and women breaking their fast until a small figure adorned in green-trimmed white stepped through one of the massive archways that ringed the room. In that second, everyone in the room might well have dropped over dead for the sudden silence that descended.

 

Yui-chan scanned the Hall, a certain tension and feverish intensity radiating from her with the palpable air of a flickering flame. Her voice was relatively quiet when she spoke, but it rang like a whipcrack in the expectant atmosphere. "Where is he?"

 

"I am here, Huntress." The mysterious messenger spoke from behind her, and she turned, regarding him and the pouch that he carried with a businesslike eye. He returned her gaze boldly, the fathomless depths of darkness in his eyes sending a chill skittering down Yui’s spine. Her sense of dreadful foreboding intensified as he continued. "I must speak with you at once. In private."

 

Biting back the urge to shiver, the young woman merely nodded and stepped past him, curtly replying. "Follow me, please."

 

As they stepped away from the Great Hall, everyone was too busy speculating on the purpose of his visit to notice that the mysterious messenger strode away on stones completely void of his shadow...

 

*******

 

Not even a candlemark later, the Huntress stood in the darkness of the closed stables, saddling her fastest gelding as silently as she could, her dreams and fears forgotten in the glare of her urgency. She whispered comforting words to the spirited beast as she cinched the saddle, knowing that her fear, anger, and tension were making it nervous. When she had tightened the last strap of the plain, leather tack, she turned and lifted the light wood of her favorite elven longbow, slipping the grip into the carrying strap slung over her ebon-cloaked shoulder. Her eyes in the depths of the cowl’s shadows were a window into a churning pool of determination and worry as she attended to her final task, tucking a bloody and torn cloak of heavy black fabric into the horse’s single saddlebag. The dark and dull symbols of what Aegon called the ‘Ancient Words’ that adorned the hem were damaged and warped, but what threatened to free the tears the young woman was holding back was the jagged, blood-lined gash through the complex rune that adorned the center of the back panel of the garment. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she allowed herself one moment to trace the symbol of the Del’Rath family - Aegon’s family - with a shaking finger before she stuffed the evidence the rest of the way into the saddlebag and closed it firmly.

 

On the farthest edge of the forest ringing Yui and Aegon’s castle, a piece of shadow broke free of itself and stepped into a ray of light, illuminating one pale hand gripped tightly around the reins of the gelding that lumbered out after it. Within a heartbeat, the Huntress was mounted and kicking the beast into its fastest gallop out over the gently-rolling hills of her own lands. The wind whipped the ebon cloak around her body, writhing and flashing bits of color like a nightmare struggling to consume her. Oblivious, she shivered with more than just dread in the warmth of the early morning sunshine, her thoughts fixed only on one thing...

 

Aegon... they have Aegon...

 

Within, a darkshard of ice and evil stirred, again, growing stronger as the warmth and hope of the lightshard grew weaker...

 

*******

 

In the castle, a shadow slid under the door of Aegon and Yui’s chamber and over the warm coverings of the bed, flowing like a living puddle across the surface and down the far side towards the balcony, where it disappeared into the lightless haven of the solid stone railing. Behind it, the pristine white of the sheets was left marred by a square of yellowed parchment with a seal of white wax visible on the front. Above that, in a neatly-formed script that anyone in the castle would recognize, was a familiar word. ‘Aegon’

[Peredhil]

Zool:

The child ran the celestial reaches, distracted from star streams to comet tails, laughing as he danced through spectral veils, the suns of a thousand nebulous beaches tanning the hands that darted here, and there, and there.

 

Nearby, the Dreamweaver travailed, her usually swift fingers now flying. It was not usually in her nature to wonder at the increased cosmic stresses vectered in her astral loom, but she did wonder at the force of it of late, for it was not like anything she had ever seen.

 

Carefully examining a sprouting sun which was just emerging from the heavenly firmament, the child felt someone standing behind him. He turned to see a large dark figure standing over him.

 

The figure stepped into the light, revealling a very tall, old man, in a pointed wizards hat, and a flowing Wizard's gown. His clothing was all a very dark blue, with arcane symbols in a glowing violet thread woven thoroughout. He had a very long, very thick white beard, over which peered soft, kind eyes, and a long thin hooked nose. He carried a long wizard's staff, the grain of the wood squirming with an internal light, and the crystal at the top gleaming a pure white beacon light.

 

The wizard held something out to the child. The child looked at it blankly, for he was not used to seeing strangers in the Dreamweaver's realm, before returning his gaze to the soft kind eyes.

 

The wizard's eyes creased, and the child knew the wizard smiled wide, and a wink decided to set the child at ease. Smiling, the child took what the Wizard was offering him, what appeared to be a chip of wood, sanded thin. The child looked to the Wizard again, who tipped his head in the Dreamweaver's direction. The child took off as directed.

 

"Here," said the child to the Dreamweaver over the looms din. She pigeonholed the shuttle, and let her limbs slow to rest. Taking the woodchip from his tiny hand she turned it over curiously, wood being rather unnatural where there are only ghosts of trees.

 

"Where did you get this?" she asked.

 

"From him," said the by, pointing from where he had just come. They both turned to look, but no figure was to be seen, only endless cosmic expanse...

 

The woman and the child looked at each other, both somewhat confused. She took another, closer look at the object in her hand. She felt something odd about it. It felt... bulkier than it looked. She felt it carefully, and definitely felt something there that could not be seen. She held it up to the astral light, and then, out of the corner of her eye, she was able to catch a glimpse of a long crystal thread, wound round and around the piece of wood. "It is a skein of thread!" she exclaimed, "The likes of which I've never seen." Her wondering eyes scoured the object now, looking for whatever else it could tell, and there, in an ink almost the color of the silvered wood it was written on, were the words;

 

"You will be needing this soon. -The Wizard Chronos"

[Peredhil]

Zool:

Yui flew through the storm, the staccato hoofbeats below her a tympanic backbeat to the rumbling thunder in the clouds and the stinging rush of the rain in her eyes and on her face. Brilliant strokes of lightning briefly illuminated the roilling depths of the storm she had been riding towards since leaving her and Aegon's countries.

 

She knew she should slow down, had known it for a dozen leagues. The gelding was a spirited beast, but the foam now ran freely from his mouth, and his wind whistled over the din of the storm.

 

She had left the forest behind some time ago, and was now coming to the end of a wide meadow at the base of a tall rocky mountain. Leaping over a raging creek, she unexpectedly hit shale on the other side. The horse skidded and bucked, nearly throwing Yui, but both managed to maintain their positions. Regaining their pace, they resumed their flight through the rain, the wind, and the night.

 

Yui rode league after league. The ground was much rockier and muddier now, the bushes sparse and leafless, looking like overgrown spiders, legs everywhere, hairy and misshapen, starkly outlined by the constant strobing of the cloud lightning. The going kept getting steeper, but a trail had appeared between the bushes, making it a little easier. The wind kept rising, from a moan, to a roar, to a shriek.

 

Constantly on her mind was the certain knowledge that they had Aegon, that he was in deadly peril, and only by coming as fast as possible did she have any chance of saving him - a chance she was uncertain still existed. She resolutley did not think about it, but kept riding, kept spurring her gelding on.

 

Deeper in her mind, was the sucking darkness. It was palpable now, almost a part of her, seemingly growing stronger and colder by the second. But whenever she tried to look at it, all she saw was her fright and horror that it was too late to save Aegon. Must save Aegon... The thought was overriding. All uncertainty was driven from her mind in a frenzy. All she wanted was to go faster. There was no doubt of where to go, she felt absolutely certain of where she was going, nor did she think to question why that was so.

 

Lightning flashed. She saw that she was almost to the top of the mountain. Ahead of her, at the end of a lonely winding track, was a castle. Tall and imposing, the appearence was eery and dreamlike. She saw no lights, but could see it clearly, even through the storm. She did not stop to wonder at this, but put her head down and spurred the gelding on.

 

The wind shrieked around her, but was behind her now, seemingly pushing her on, her ebon cloak actually flowing out in front of the horse. The rain was no longer fresh, as she would expect, but seemed to carry the taint of sulpher. The thunder in the clouds was louder, deeper, slower, and the lightning was muted, with a reddish tinge. The closer she got to the open castle gate, the easier it seemed to get. Then, she felt an odd shift in energy...

 

Suddenly a bolt of pure energy from the sky touched down directly in front of her. She was immediately blinded by the intense blue afterglow in her retinas, and the thundercrack rang in her ears. The startled horse bucked and reared, throwing Yui off. The last thing she remembered was flying through the air, before landing on the rock strewn ground into unconsciousness.

[Peredhil]

Yui-Temae:

It moved along quickly, as all dreams do, the colors and patterns joining in a dance of celestial artistry, creating between them a world of unreality and bald truth. Absorbed in the fluidic motion that was her purpose for existence, the immortal who sat before the weave passed long moments before raising her eyes from the tuck and weave of her hands to behold the finished product that flowed into the ether beyond the loom. What she saw there made her freeze, the shuttle sliding to a stop in the middle of the strands as the DreamWeaver stared in shock at the face of the tapestry-dream she was creating. Darkness. In the midst of a thousand bright colors, a stain of faded greys and blacks sat upon the dream, the ominous Black Strand at its center. An icy chill of foreboding went through the creature of eternity as she reached out to touch the dreadful fragment, feeling the rending tension that remained despite her best efforts to loosen her weave. The DreamWeaver stared at the dark dream, the color draining from her face as she whispered, "It is not my work..."

 

On the floor by her feet, the child idly played with the skein of thread from which she drew, fingering the reds and greens and golds of the strands in an idle attempt to untangle them. At her words, he raised his dark gaze to her and blinked innocent eyes at the stain. Frowning, he turned his gaze back to the threads in his hands and raised them for his mother to see. "Mommy, the bad one’s all tangled with this pretty one. Can you untangle it?"

 

She wrenched her eyes from the puzzling sight of her own work altered and looked at the boy with a worried frown. "I can’t, sweetlings. I wish I could... but I can’t..."

 

*******

 

She stood on the parapet of a high tower, whipped by the winds and rain of a violent storm. Around her, the darkness was lit by the constant strobe of sizzling lightning bolts, though no thunder rumbled through the chaos. In fact, she could hear nothing, only feel the sting of the shards of rain against her skin and feel the lash of her unbound hair across her cheeks. Alone there, she shivered against the seeping cold of the water soaking her cloak.

 

‘Fool.’ The sound surprised her, and she turned with a start to find herself staring at her own face. In the darkness, the icy blue of the eyes that stared back at her shined like a beacon. She felt the cold seep deeper. ‘You’ve lost me. You’ve freed me.’

 

She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She tried to raise her hand to this other self, but she could not move. Ebon...

 

Helpless, she could only watch in worry as the darksoul shard of her own being stepped forward and reached out a hand to her. Time slowed, straining forward as the pale fingers closed the last inch towards her cheek... and then the hand was not hers. A man stood before her, swallowing her in his infinite, black eyes as he caressed her soft skin. Aegon... Yet not Aegon. She stared, paralyzed, at her lover’s face and body, his smooth, tanned skin bare to the cool night breeze that eased through their bedchamber. The firelight flickered on the angles of his cheekbones as he leaned forward to touch his lips gently to hers. It was all so familiar except that his skin was cold and his warm blue eyes were so terribly black. She quaked in a mixture of longing and fear as his hand trailed down her cheek to her neck, memories of the thousand other times her love had warmed her with the comforting gesture flashing through her thoughts.

 

Free to move, again, she reached her own hand up to the stubble-roughened cheek of this man, torn by the familiar mixed with the unfamiliar. Aegon was never this cold, this empty, yet foolish hope prompted her to whisper, ‘Love...’

 

The word might as well have been the final arcane syllable of Chain Lightning for the effect it had on this phantom of her soulmate. With a jerk and an angry snarl, he wrapped his hands around her neck and squeezed the breath from her throat. Her eyes went wide from the shock, and she gripped his wrists in desperation, struggling to draw breath through the clamp of his grip.

 

‘Kiree na omocha. *’ The gravelly voice drove a spike through her heart, and she stared in terror at the dark face of the man before her. Enshrouded in a cowl that covered the features of his face with shadows, suddenly, he looked nothing like Aegon or anyone else she knew. His skin was lined and pocked, harsh angles and a sharp nose topped by black eyes and the hint of long, red hair. A fearful shudder rocked her, and she stopped struggling, captured by the depth of nothingness in those eyes.

 

The room around them faded into a place just as empty as the soul she saw in the man’s gaze, and she sobbed silently. This, she knew. This was a place she had been before. She fought futilely against what was to come...

 

‘One.’ The voice closed around her heart like a vise, stopping it cold. Unable to move, unable to breathe, she could feel the cold seeping into her core, into her soul. Without motion, she struggled, fighting to hold onto a light that was quickly extinguishing, a warmth that was fading to nothing under the onslaught of pitch black. ‘We are One.’ ...

 

*******

 

The Master watched her face as she dreamed, a thoughtful look upon his creased face. She was everything he had hoped for and more, a delicious mix of power and vulnerability, light and darkness. Her beauty made her appear almost fragile as she stirred in tormented sleep, yet what he saw in the dream he gave her was a strong, stubborn will, forged in the tragedies of the past and tempered in the white light of a love that was both her shield and her weakness. Even more, he touched a magnificent pocket of the coldest dark within her, a delicious irony in one so very luminous. The triumph was agony. The anticipation, torture.

 

"Bring her." His hoarse voice punctured the clatter of the storm around them as he faded like a shadow exposed to light, leaving the ragged man alone in the violent downpour.

 

The Slave stared at the woman laying unconscious on the rough ground, still wondering at the shock of recognition, trying to reconcile the pale, rain-drenched form before him with the all-too-fresh images from his dream. The storm... we helped each other against the storm. What does it mean?

 

Carefully, he lifted her limp form into his arms, tucking her sodden cloak around her before he began to trudge back towards the looming stones of the castle. All the while, he watched her face and wondered...

 

*"Pretty toy..."

[Peredhil]

Peredhil:

"Mommy the bad one's all tangled with this pretty one. Can you untangle it?"

 

He listened to her negative answer even as the black thread clung to his hands. He absently tap, tap, tapped his fingers repeatedly against the thread, feeling it stick, stick, stick icky-clingy to his fingers. His other hand still pulled at the gold thread in a vain attempt to separate them. The gold one was funny too, shimmery gold and white, green-edged in the light, but with a solid rigid core that gleamed nearly as black as the sticky-icky thread when stretched.

 

"Put those down please." The Dream Weaver nudged him away from the tangled skeins with her foot as her hands threw the shuttle back and forth as fast as she could move it.

 

He obediently dropped the threads and sat back.

The Black thread rested in a twisted mess on the floor, a loop writhing unnoticed on her foot. The shuttle slowed, the beater stumbled to a stop.

 

The Dream Weaver rested, for just a moment, eyes drooping. In a moment a faint rumbling snore escaped her lips.

 

The Graeson looked at the Loom in alarm. The fabric was bunching and snagging under the stresses while Mommy slept. Moving forward with tongue fixed firmly between his teeth, he carefully grasped the threads in one hand while he pushed at the Shuttle with the other.

When she awoke, the boy was gone.

 

* * * * *

 

Yui woke endlessly from a series of nightmares, each time finding herself still dreaming. Reality began to blur as she began to doubt even the times she was certain she was awake.

 

The chill shadow within strove against the shadow without; To her mounting horror they began to negotiate and intertwine.

 

A war-weary Aegon Del'Rath returned to find a Letter spurning him on his pillow. The visiting Princess consoled him with hot eyes and cool hands.

 

Soi stood helplessly wringing her hands as teary-eyed Nakarei cut her with a flensing knife, protesting all the while that it was the only way to save her life.

 

The pain and terror came in rhythmic waves, becoming increasingly seductive as her exhaustion mounted. Each time she began ease into the pattern, clenching and releasing, anticipating the next pain or caress, she bucked and raged at her weaknesses. But her protests were becoming listless.

 

tsukaremash|ta... michi ni mayoimash|ta

 

* * * * *

 

The Master straightened and rinsed the short razor in the basin. The streamer of blood made a lazy swirl as it blended with the already pinkened water. He cast a critical eye over the latest Glyph he'd just carved into her pale flesh.

She was strong, perhaps the strongest he'd had in years. He'd carved this Glyph into her back three times now, each time she'd managed to find a way to reject it.

He feared not let her waken completely, she might realize the reality of the situation and escape him completely.

 

A sudden broken sob. "Aegon..." The Glyph glowed crimson and faded until it was a tracery of fresh blood on unblemished creamy flesh.

 

He swore harshly. His pocked flesh billowed like a sail in a crosswind for a moment. Struggling for a moment, he regained control.

She was like no Ascendant Mage he'd ever consumed. He glared at her bitterly, lashing her with tormenting shadows, layering dream within dream within dream until her body spasmed in a thousand terrors. The Senses-twisting Glyphs already scarred into her body each amplified his power. He could feel her spirit trembling on the brink, the Darkness within her rising and fighting for control.

 

"Hai!" Removing one glove, he stretched his trembling hand toward her hungerly.

 

"No." Shaking her head in a adamant denial, she twisted through the shadows, rejected the dreams, thrust back the Darkness within and without.

 

"NO!" Yui fought with clawed hands against unseen terrors with a frenzied strength. The Master looked at her in disbelief as he quickly withdrew his hand. What DROVE her to fight when all was so hopeless?!

 

Leaning forward, he patiently began again.

 

One. We are One...

 

* * * * *

 

He is dreaming of when he was a child. His father is near, the one light of his life. He is laughing and at peace, when the sky darkens. A sense of foreboding sweeps him, a fear from his father.

 

Mother's voice comes from behind him, calling them in from the storm. He can almost hear her name over the rising wind.

His father's heavy cloak, embroidered with Ancient Words, swirls as he turns and they retreat in from the storm. Mother's grey-green eyes are filled with love as she looks at them both.

 

His heart drums so loudly it wakes him up.

 

Ancient Worlds? Mother? Something has changed the dream. Where were the marauders? Slowly the memory of the burnt mangled remains of his father strangle the dream. He voluntarily seeks sleep again, for the first time in 20 years, chasing the new dream.

 

Outside, the storm lashes and growls with balked hunger.

[Peredhil]

Zool:

Yui felt a remote perceptual twist. It was a moment before she realized it had startled her, and she sat bolt upright, a strangled scream lodged in her throat, her eyes wide open. She looked around in panic.

 

Dappled sunshine streamed in through an open window in the rough hewn stone walls of a shack. There was a dirt floor, a lodge pole ceilling, and a fire pit at the other end with a wide table piled high with wooden bowls, jars and a few pans. There was no chimney, only a squareish hole in the roof above the pit, showing a patch of blue sky. There was also a window above her bed, but she was too low to see out of it. She looked down and saw she was on a bed of thick blankets and animal skins which was laying on the floor. The rough plank door she was behind was half ajar. She heard the sound of chopping outside. Finally she was able to take a shuddering gasp of breath.

 

When she had calmed, she quietly slipped aside the blankets and crept toward the door, but as she tried to stand her head was suddenly swimming. She closed her eyes and rested on her knees and elbows to let the wave of dizziness pass.

 

The sound of chopping immediately ceased.

 

Forcing herself to look up, she saw a grizzled old man with a tremendous white beard peeking around the door at her. They stared at each other for a second, both appearing somewhat surprised.

 

Then the old man strode into the room and gently grasped Yui by the shoulders. He was dressed in animal skins and crude wool cloth, with leather sandals. Yui thought to resist, but found herself being helplessly eased back under the covers as another wave of dizziness came over her.

 

After he had layed Yui back down, he went to the table and prepared her a concoction in one of the bowls, from some of the ingrediants around the shack. He carefully carried it to her, and bending down motioned for her to drink.

 

"Who are you?" asked Yui weakly.

 

The old man said nothing, but his eyes crinkled and his beard turned up at the edges in such a way that Yui knew the smile that was under the thick long white beard was the clear sign of a friend.

 

With his help, she was able with some effort to drink the whole bowl of dark bitter drink. She immediately began to feel her head clear, and in a moment she felt much better. The old man had gone out and resumed his chopping, and in a moment brought in several armloads of wood, and set about making a fire.

 

"Thank you." Said Yui. "Who are you? How did I come here?"

 

The old man looked up from the fireplace, and looked Yui in the eye. Then, his eyes sad, looked to the ground before slowly turning around to resume his work. The wind whispered through the open windows and door, and a sweet birdsong carried in from outside.

 

"Don't you… talk?" she asked hesitantly.

 

The old man didn't turn around, merely shook his head side to side several times as he bent to his task. He struck a flint, then blowing softly on his tinder, smoke quickly turned into flame which he then built into a small fire. Jumping up he closed one plank window shutter , left another ajar slightly, then went outside, closing the door after him.

 

Yui felt decidedly better, was even comfortable with the fire going. Her eyes began to close, and she began to drift. Slowly her consciousness began the sliding descent to rest…

 

Again Yui sat bolt upright, her heart pounding, her breath rasping in her throat. The door still vibrated from the old man's hasty entrance. His hands were in front of him, towards Yui's brow. He slowly closed the distance to her, finally laying his hands on her head. An odd, gutteral whine eminated from his throat. Slowly, the engulfing blackness bled away from her mind.

 

She raised her arm from under the covers to reveal angry red rune patterns on her skin, which were just fading away.

 

"What is happening to me!" she screamed angrily. "What do they want?!"

 

After a moment he backed away, then held out his hand to help her up. Despite the terrible nightmare, she actually felt rested and stood easily. They went outside.

 

The sun had shifted in the sky. She must have slept for most of the day, she thought. She found herself in a beautiful meadow at the base of a tall rocky mountain. The cottage was actually under an enormous cottonwood tree. "What a magnificent tree," she sad, distracted. Her Verdant training giving her an appreciation of natural wonders. "It must be hundreds of years old."

 

The old man smiled wide, and held his hands apart even wider.

 

For the first time in days, Yui smiled herself, almost laughed. "Older? 500 years old? A thousand?" I don't think cottonwood trees live that long," she said, still smiling.

 

The old man winked, then walked to the edge of the clearing with Yui in tow. He motioned up the mountain, guiding Yui's eyes with his hand.

 

Towards the base of the mountain, a creek had formed a chasm which was spanned by a rickety rope bridge. From there the boulder strewn flank rose grandly, until the fairly smooth sides gave way to the craggy peaks at the top. Then she saw it. There, toward the very top of the mountain, were the ruins of an ancient castle.

 

She had seen that castle before.The castle looked oddly familiar, but the mountain she knew she had been to before - but try as she might, she couldn't recall exactly when. Recently, she thought, but she just couldn't remember exactly when it was.

 

But staring up at the ruined castle suddenly made her feel dizzy, and the old man helped her back into the shack.

 

Night was drawing near.

 

* * * * *

 

A lone horseman thundered across the open meadow towards the rocky mountain. His horse was breathing hard form many miles of hard running. In front of him he saw that a storm had sprung up, and was shrouding the mountain with angry black clouds, but not before he caught sight of the ominous castle at the top.

 

"She is there," he thought with absolute certainty. Only one thought permeated his mind - to save Yui.

 

He flew through the tall waving grasses, the hooves of his steed flinging mud and stones, his cape flapping in his wake. Halfway across the meadow his horeses fore hoof barely missed spading a young cottonwood sapling. He passed off the momentary shudder of longing and hope he felt as simply his own longing, as just his own pain.

[Peredhil]

Yui-Temae:

The child was suddenly not where he’d been, and it frightened him. Eyes wide, he turned from a view of a strange place - wavy grasses covering the landscape, interspersed by tall trees and shrubs here and there – to face a person. A man not like the old man with the kind eyes and the fuzzy beard. The man looked as puzzled as he did, and Graeson whimpered, a tiny sound in the back of his throat. It echoed eerily in the dreamscape, tightening his child’s nerves even further.

 

"I do not know you." The man spoke gently, his frown one of confusion and not anger, as he crouched beside the frightened child in his dream. It was a moment of very strange clarity, one without the usual fleeting impressions and vague emotions.

 

The boy blinked and swallowed, fighting back tears. "Where is my Mommy? I want to go back! I’ll never touch the loom again, I swear!" The fight was lost, and the trails of salty water that formed down his ruddy cheeks burned cold in the soft breeze of the dream-meadow. Graeson sobbed and covered his face, muffling his cries. "Please take me back! Please! Mommy!!"

 

The Slave had wrapped his arms gently around the dream child before he even realized that he was moving, the need to comfort him a living thing within his chest. Rocking slowly, he crooned tiny words of comfort in the boy’s ears, words that he dimly recalled hearing from his Mother’s lips once so very long ago. " Sssss... Sssss... Daizyobu, yasui kodomo. Daizyobu..."*

 

The strange language startled him as it flowed over his lips, as natural as a heartbeat to him. Mother’s language. The image of grey-green eyes filled with love and a warm, comforting embrace flashed through his thoughts, and the Slave shivered. Mother.

 

Graeson’s sniffles brought the man back from wherever his mind had gone, and the meadow flicked back into solidarity from the swirling mass of mist it had become. The little boy squirmed until he was released, then stepped back to stare through misty eyes at the kind man. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t understand the words used, the comforting tone was enough to make clear their meaning. "You’re the white strand. I like you. My Mommy calls me Graeson, but it’s my Father’s name. Do you have a name?"

 

The question brought the Slave up short. Of course he had a name... a name... What was it?

 

A new Dream swam up around the boy and the man and carried them both along in its wake...

 

*******

 

He is young, again. He stands beside father, as always, gazing up at the man with eyes full of love. Father is his light, strong and kind and loving and magnificent. When he grows, he will be just like father, and he will love someone just like mother, and he will love his son just as much. Father speaks, and he laughs happily, dancing away as the man reaches out to tickle him.

 

The storm interrupts, rumbling in the distance, the wind rising around them both until father’s cloak whips like a silver-stitched shadow behind him. Mother’s voice reaches him across the wind, and he turns to see her standing nearby, all golden hair and warmth as she crouches and holds her arms open to him. Happiness beckons, and he turns back to father to take his hand.

 

The charred remains give him a skeletal smile and reach towards him with blackened arms, and the child screams in fear and pain, frozen to the rainswept ground. He knows that he will be lost when the fingers brush him, but there is only weak emptiness where there should be strength to run and hide. Feet. Inches. Now a hair’s breadth separates him from his fate...

 

The light that flares is blinding, and the child he is cowers. Sounds assault his ears, but the world is shadow. The storm lashes him with its fury, stinging his flesh, flaying it, but he cannot move. At last, silence, and the light fades, the storm eases. The child he once was opens his eyes to stare into his Mother’s loving face, her eyes bright as she whispers to him that he is safe, that she loves him.

 

The Slave bolted from his bed with a gasp, his ears ringing as the last image from his dream danced before his eyes. That face... that face... The lines of age in the dream-mother's warm expression cannot cover her identity from his newly-opened eyes, and the young man shudders in dread. He saw again the unmistakable beauty of the woman in his Master’s clutches, and his stomach knotted. He knew her, now, this latest victim... his mother...

 

Gulping air as if he’d just broken free from the clutches of some soul-deep waters, the Slave tucked this new knowledge into the deepest pocket of his mind. The time would come to do something, he knew, but it was not here yet. Instead, he calmed his breathing and glanced for the first time around his poor, rat-infested room, his eyes coming to rest on the child standing tensely in the corner. Strangely, he felt no surprise to see the dream child in his reality, and he heard himself whisper the answer little Graeson was seeking.

 

"Ayden. My name is Ayden..."

 

* [Translated from Japanese: "Shhh... Shhhh... It's okay, young child. It's all right."]

[Yui-chan]

Yui-Temae:

This time, the night of soul-wrenching dreams had left Yui drawn and exhausted when the morning dawned. From her cocoon in the soft furs of the palette bed, she watched grey nighttime turn into blood-red morning, her thoughts whirling. Try as she might, she couldn't recall last night's horrors, yet her whole being felt chilled and muffled, as though she were slowly suffocating in her dangerous dreams. It frightened her, all the more so because she could not remember what had brought her to this point, nor what caused her anguish. She knew only that the old man had cared for her, continued to care for her with a heart that was pure goodness and a strange ability to frighten away the shadows in her mind.

 

While her thoughts turned to him, she watched the silent old man stoking the fire in the pit in the corner and wondered idly how he could appear so calm and well-rested. Throughout the long night, he had watched over her, she was certain, for whenever she'd cried out or opened her eyes to the moonlit hut, he had been there, his warm eyes and gentle hands easing her pain. She only wished she could remember what caused it…

 

" Ozyiisama*," The huntress' quiet voice carried easily across the small space, and the elder turned to regard her with questioning eyes. "I have so many questions. I know I am … unwell, but … I cannot remember what happened to bring me here. Will you sit with me? Can you try to help me understand?"

 

Those young eyes in the old face darkened sadly, though he left the porridge to warm over the fire and ambled over to sit on a corner of the palette. Yui could see that the smile was gone from his face, yet he looked at her and gently nodded, gesturing for her to continue. She smiled weakly, feeling relief at the mere possibility of finding answers, and then spoke softly.

 

"Thank you, grandfather. I owe you so much already." The warm smile slipped back onto his face as he shook his head and patted her hand as if to say that there was no debt, only kindness. The Huntress' smile widened in return for a moment before she sobered with thoughts of her situation. "You showed me the mountain, yesterday, and I know that I have been there. You showed me, too, the ruins at the peak, and I think that perhaps I have been there as well, but … not exactly. I think… I think there should be a castle there." An image of the imposing stone walls lit by a jagged streak of lightning flashed past her mind's eye, and Yui shuddered. "… Hai. I have been to a castle there."

 

Frowning, she looked to the old man questioningly, and he nodded, his eyes grave. Her frown only deepened. "How is that possible? It is a ruin. You showed it to me." The old man could only watch her in silence with his soul-deep eyes, willing her to put it all together.

 

The young woman frowned and looked out the window at the blossoming morning, her unfocused eyes falling on the strong limbs of the cottonwood. "Aegon was in danger, I remember. I rode in secret so that he would not be killed, for those who had taken him claimed to want ransom," she mused, her frown deepening, "though I knew that, for whatever reason, they also wanted me."

 

Pleased, the old man nodded solemnly, recalling her gaze to the narrow hut. "You know of them? You know of whoever had… has Aegon?" Again, he nodded, and Yui sat up straighter. " Ozyiisama, do you know where Aegon is? Did you bring me here to keep me from whoever has him?" The old man frowned at her exuberance, and she could see the thoughtfulness in his eyes as he considered how to answer. More calmly, she repeated, "Please… do you know where Aegon is?"

 

After long moments, the old man shook his head back and forth, a regretful, but emphatic 'no'. Yui wilted back against the furs like a plucked flower, a measure of the hope that had sprung into her eyes dying. Her voice was weaker as she continued. "Did you bring me here to protect me from those who took him?"

 

This time, the old man nodded, his eyes going very warm as he stroked her hair back from her forehead in a fatherly gesture.

 

"Are they the ones who have done this to me, the nightmares, the strange marks?"

 

Again, he nodded, a mixture of sadness and anger entering the blue gaze. Yui shuddered slightly. The old man had her answers, but she couldn't help but feel that she almost didn't want to know what they were. A chill of foreboding warned her that the worst was yet to come, yet she knew she had to face it, for herself and for her beloved.

 

" Ozyiisama, can you t--- AIEEE!" Yui screamed as pain suddenly sliced across her back, burning a convoluted path as if someone were carving fire along her skin. With the hurt came darkness, a nightmare shadow that covered first her eyes, then her will, then her consciousness. Within seconds, the young magess lay still against the furs, reclaimed by the nightmares.

 

Chronos scowled beneath his great, white beard as he bent forward to place his hands upon the Dream's brow. The pull of the Dark Dream was as strong as it had ever been, and the ancient wizard knew that the woman was now fighting the final battle for her own soul. Timeless, he knew, too, the thousand possible outcomes of the battle and the million possible results of those outcomes. He knew, at the same moment, the dozen possible roles he would play. He chose one.

 

*******

 

The storm whispered to the Master, telling tales of a lone rider protected by magic, of a fleet-footed race up the steep mountain slopes. The Master was displeased, the eyes, invisible under the hood, narrowing angrily. He bellowed for his Slave, the gravelly cry echoing throughout the great, stone keep.

 

He is here too soon. I am still Unreal and Unfinished. Outwardly calm, the black-robed figure retrieved his razor, bending carefully over creamy skin. Still, his dark mind raced even as his lips began once again chanting the words of the Binding. There can be no more gentleness, no more game.

 

"One. We are One." The razor began its path across his unconscious victim's back once again, leaving behind a trail of fire-red blood as she jerked in pain. When he arrives, I will be ready. Joined with the Weaver's Dream, I will finally be wholly Real. Joined with the Dreamer's Dream, I will become a Dreamer!

 

The laughter that bubbles forth from the Master's twisted throat fills the chamber even as the young woman laying on the platform before him struggles against his work. After but a moment, his black eyes narrow in concentration even as his hand carries the razor over the smooth planes of her back. Within the battlefield of her dreams, the clash of wills resumes…

 

* Japanese for 'grandfather', also a respectful term of address for an elderly man in general.

[Yui-chan]

Yui-Temae:

The spell was shattered with the cold efficiency reserved for those of Pure Evil, and the sparkling shards dissolved into dust. With an angry frown marring his wrinkled forehead, the Timeless Wizard opened his eyes upon the white-stone walls of his Chamber and stepped gingerly out of the glowing green Circle in which he stood. The Dark Dream had reclaimed the mortal, and not even his powerful magic could shield her, now.

 

Chronos shook his head in disappointment. He had really wanted to spare the woman and the Weaver this particular path in all of the infinite possibilities, but he had known from the start that it was very unlikely that he could. He shrugged to himself, knowing that remorse was useless.

 

Instead, he walked to the far wall, lifted his pointed hat from its place on a peg and gestured, opening a hole in the air. With a firm tug, he settled the cap on his head and disappeared into the Void.

 

*******

 

For the first time in all of Eternity, the Dreamweaver stood away from her loom, watching as the weave warped and the threads of Dreamers' minds piled up at its feet. She should have been concerned, should have been pained to see her beautiful work being soiled by the stain of Darkness that was spreading quickly through the threads. She should have been fighting to control the chaos that threatened her domain. Instead, she merely stared, first at the collapsing Weave, and then at her own incorporeal hands.

 

"The Dream consumes me." Her choked whisper carried itself into the Infinite, finding only emptiness. "How?"

 

No answer came except the silent motion of the Darkness as it spread like a living puddle of tar up her fingers. Just as her Dream, the Weaver was being absorbed, her intrinsic essence being consumed by impossible contradiction. She felt it, now, too late - the Black Strand, the Dark Dream escaped that strove to become Real. She remembered the Weaving that had begun it all, the pained but powerful mind that had given birth to a work of poignant, ominous beauty. She should have realized, should have seen the danger of such an ambitious and driven work, but she had been blind. And now it would all be destroyed.

 

The boundary between Dream and Real is a sacred, immutable thing. It can never, must never be crossed. Even as the thought entered her mind, she could feel that impregnable boundary cracking, straining under the force of the impossible as it happened. Too late, she knew the face of the time-lost Nightmare and the perversion that would soon make him Real. The process would destroy the boundaries between the Weave and mortal reality, between the subconscious whims and the conscious will, and chaos would reign over the world of mortals.

 

A hand rested gently on her shoulder saved the Celestial creature from her despair, and she turned to regard a pair of young, blue eyes shining above a great, silver beard. "Graeson…" The word was a sigh of relief that was met by the crinkle of skin that revealed the smile hidden beneath his whiskers. Something in his fathomless gaze gave her hope, and she smiled in return.

 

Soon, she sat again before the groaning, straining Loom, her hands flying. Chronos stood at her side, lending his power and support as she slipped the shuttle into the shed, drawing the crystal thread across the warp.

 

What once is woven, eternal be,

 

unraveling ne'er through eternity.

 

Whe'ere good or ill, one remedy

 

the only cure lay in clarity.

[Yui-chan]

Yui-Temae: "Breaking Point"

The steep stairs were the same as they had always been, hard, cold, and drafty, unyielding and unchanging in the span of a man's life. Once, he had thought them the perfect representation of his existence, his role as the Slave to his lenient Master as immutable as the granite steps. Now he knew better. His memories, as they slowly returned, were showing him what he had been born to, what he had once been, and the knowledge was letting him finally Awaken. The steep stairs may have been the same as they had always been, but the young man climbing them was irrevocably, undeniably different.

 

"Ayden?" The child's quiet voice rang loud in the stairwell, causing the young man to jump in alarm. With wide eyes, he crouched and placed a hushing hand over the boy's mouth.

 

"Shhhh," Ayden whispered, "you must be quiet, Graeson. We are too close to the Master's chamber, and he might not like that you are here."

 

The boy's steely eyes widened, fear flooding their depths until his new friend smiled softly and moved the muffling hand to stroke his hair comfortingly. "I did not mean to frighten you, child. I will protect you, and I am very strong." He didn't voice his worry that he would not be strong enough to resist the Master, but instead lifted Graeson up over his head in both demonstration and distraction. Wisely, the child muffled his giggles as Ayden whispered, "See?"

 

Graeson nodded as he was gently lowered again, his smile fading slowly into a serious frown. When Ayden would have turned away to continue up the long steps, he tugged on a ragged sleeve and brought the man's attention back. "Ayden, you're nice. Will you help me find my Mommy?"

 

Leaning down, the young Slave nodded to the boy with grave eyes. His newly-restored identity reminded him of the pain of losing a mother, and he vowed, no matter what other outcomes his actions would have, that he would find the dream-child's mother and reunite them. Firm in his resolve, he took Graeson's hand gently and whispered, "I swear it, child. We will find her."

 

Boy and man regarded each other for a long moment, dark steel eyes exploring the depths of silvery-green ones until the Celestial Child saw what he wanted. With a smile and a nod, he bounced up to the next step, dragging Ayden's hand behind him. The man's grin matched the child's as the two resumed the long trek up the winding stairs.

 

*******

 

The instances had lost coherence long ago, merging and blending and blurring into a sprawling mass of tortured emotions, soul-searing tragedies and shattering revelations. Her kingdom was burning, and she could hear the screams of her people as Thinas' undead troops slew and tortured and abused them. The darkelf, once her dearest friend, yanked cruelly on the chain about her neck, throwing her roughly into the animated corpse that had once been her brother. They both sneered hatred at her as the rusted dagger he held still in his rotting hands stabbed fire into her gut.

 

Aegon smiled down at her cruelly as he turned the blade, shoving it ever deeper into her. 'Stupid cow, I had my use of you. Did you think I was yours alone?' Those eyes she loved so well shone bright with malice as he sneered, 'You've shared me all along, so why should tonight be different?' When he withdrew, she did not feel the pain of the wound, overshadowed as it was by the shattering of her heart as she watched him stride back to the naked woman awaiting him in their bed.

 

'He never loved you, anyway. How could anyone love a creature so weak and pathetic?' She turned slowly, almost beyond hearing, to face herself with eyes of ice. Ebon smiled cruelly as sounds unmistakable in their cruelty began to issue from the bed behind them. 'Let it go, pitiful little shard. Give in.'

 

'... no... ' She covered her ears and closed her eyes, desperate for refuge from the ruination of everything in her life. If ever she had known that her tortures were nightmares, the knowledge had been lost beneath the weight of tragedy, and now she shuddered in helpless misery, curling herself into a ball. Darkness surrounded her, and in time the sounds of betrayal faded. In the silence, she cast her mind about, seeking something - anything - to hold on to, to fight for.

 

She was still searching when a door opened into the darkness, and a broad-shouldered silhouette cut the light on the other side. Gasping for breath past her sobs, Yui tried to back away from the strange form, only to find herself suddenly hampered by a rough, wet, stone wall at her back and shackles on her wrists. She shuddered from much more than just the cold as she felt a chill breeze across her bare flesh, and fear such as she'd never known sliced through her veins.

 

'One. We are One.' The raspy voice rang through the silence as the stranger approached, his words taking on a chilling new meaning. In response, she did the only thing she could.

 

Temae Yui, proud Huntress and ruler of a kingdom of thousands, threw back her head and screamed her terror into the storm.

[Yui-chan]

Yui-Temae:

The castle was a looming behemoth, crouched in a half-crumbling pile on the mountaintop, its stones made black by the torrential rain. Shattered gargoyles lay strewn about the remains of its courtyard like demon corpses, and its ragged battlements leaned as if too old and tired to maintain their struggle to reach the conflicted stormclouds above. Only the brave walls of the keep stood against the violent wind and angry lightning, and it earned them a sound cursing.

 

Aegon scowled into the wind as he leapt from his steed’s back and shooed the animal off into the night. He could sense her presence all the stronger, now, like seeing a dim light in a shadow realm, but more, he could feel the fear and pain lacing that presence as well as the unmistakable taint of sorcery. The mage’s heart lurched at the thought of his lady enspelled, but he diverted the worry into rage at the creature that had her. He promised his hungry blades a taste of the villain who had taken Yui-chan.

 

Only a heartbeat after he arrived, Aegon’s gaze, as angry and dark as the weather, had found the rotting wooden door of the keep. He sprinted across the rubble-strewn courtyard, lightning hammering the protective bubble of his wards, shattering itself against his determined magic, but the young man barely noticed, his attention focused instead on the spell gathering at the back of his mind. Dark and festering, it enveloped his hands in shadow until the moment that he pressed them against the ancient barrier. Its rusty hinges and pitted wood rotted to dust in the space of a heartbeat, leaving the mage free to step into the drafty hall of the Master’s home.

 

*******

 

Ayden’s breath caught in his throat as the shadowy figure stepped through the archway and into the great hall. He knew who to expect, knew that where she was, he would never be kept from, but as the flickering light from the torch he held illuminated a black cloak trimmed in silver and a pair of steel-blue eyes, all of his reasoning fled. The Slave was suddenly a boy of six, again, standing before the father he had always adored. That he should be here, alive after so long... Ayden felt the sting of tears behind his eyes and fought for composure. In the end, it was Graeson who reminded him of his purpose.

 

"Ayden, is this the man who’ll help us?" the child’s whisper did not escape either man’s notice, and the Slave felt Aegon’s sharp gaze watching him as he tore his own away to look down at the boy.

 

The smile he offered was weak, but he nodded. "Hai. This is m… is Aegon, and he’s here to help the lady I told you about." Ayden looked back at the mage as he spoke, noting the concern in his eyes as he stepped towards them.

 

"You know where Yui is? You must take me to her!" It was clear that the swordsman knew they weren’t here to oppose him. After all, a raggedy young man and a small boy were hardly the dastardly villain types.

 

"Yes..." The lad didn’t trust himself to say much more to this ghost from his past, so instead he simply picked up Graeson and rushed off through the halls with his father fast on his heels.

 

*******

 

The final sigil was in place. The last vestiges of her will were broken. As the Master gazed upon the limp form laid out before him, his black eyes gleamed hungrily. She was the last he would ever need, the one who had what was needed to complete him. And despite the rush he had been forced to, she had been by far the most rewarding conquest of them all. He leaned down until his cowl touched the planes of her cheek and whispered beside her ear.

 

"Ima wa anata ga watasi no desu. Watasi no kiree na sakura. Watasi no kyusai*." The dark creature had the satisfaction of seeing her shudder, and not even her whispered "Zettai zya nai...** " could dampen his pleasure. Speak defiance all she might, she was already firmly in his spell. Her champion would find this secret chamber too late to save her.

 

The Master’s craggy face actually split into a smile as he straightened and freed his hand from his robes. One touch was all he needed...

 

*******

 

The Weaver glanced at Chronos. The shadow stain of the Master’s tampering had sapped the color from most of her being, cutting a fluid line diagonally across her face. In short minutes, she knew that the spell and the rouge Nightmare’s actions would consume her cosmic role. It worried her, and worry was not an emotion the eternal being was accustomed to. "Have I acted too late?"

 

Chronos smiled softly and patted her shoulder, the warmth in his gaze especially bright. "One grain of sand can change the flow of a river... or of time. Have faith, Weaver of Dreams. We still have a few grains left..."

 

* "Now, you are mine. My pretty cherry blossom. My salvation."

** "Never..."

[Peredhil]

Peredhil:

Chronos grasped her shoulder tightly and pointed to her foot. "At times we need to look away," he murmured.

 

Tearing her gaze away from the mockery of order in the Tapestry of Souls, she looked dully at her foot. Her silver Shears. Her eyes teared slightly and her hair hung lankly around her face. In the blur she noticed a flaw overlaying the scissor blades. Bending, she squinted to see Graeson's translucent thread sprawling in untidy coils. Beside her she felt Chronos wolfish smile.

 

"It is Time,"he said simply, and stepped back to let her work.

 

Quickly yet smoothly she coiled the thread, feeling the opportunities of a thousand lives slip between her fingers. Grasping the shears, she hesitated as she Searched deeply the Patterns gone awry.

 

Chronos stepped up behind her and supported her with a gently clasp around the waist.

 

"All beginning worthwhile are birthed in blood and pain," He coaxed gently, the weight of knowledge laden in his voice. She trembled with the anticipation, but felt the love of eternity in his reassuring touch.

 

Pinching the base of the Black Thread, where it already had begun to twine about the Temae strand, she scissored the blades. Finely she cut, so closely that she clipped the skin from finger and thumb. Her smokey blood spread like the mist of dreams absorbing into the Black Thread and etching it like acid.

 

She quickly wove the Tapestry together in the wake of the Black Thread's disintegration until a puckered seam was all that remained in the Tapestry to mark the passage of Time's Nightmare. A puckered seam and a new slender thread, once translucent with Time, already enfused with the blood of Dreams, and now fused irrevocably with the darkness cored thread of Yui Temae. As she released Temae, Aegon's thread sprung like steel to the magnet to close the final gap. Together they embraced the new thread that ended, yet began between them.

 

She slumped into his grasp, and suffered him to carry her to her chair. She looked ancient hag until Time's touch lifted and her ageless beauty returned.

 

"We've done what we must to stop the madness. Is it enough?" His voice grated roughly; Time gives its strength to Dreams not lightly.

"He'll be born with the salmon knowledge, the knowing wisdom, the wise weird. He is ours and theirs, a bridge belonging to all and none. Can even Time tell what we've done?" She smiled slightly and began Weaving again. "We'll have to wait and see what the Tapestry Weaves."

 

With a gentle caress that pained them both for it's passage and finality, he strode from her chamber lest he Dream again...

 

****

 

Ayden looked at Aegon carrying Graeson and his heart thumped in his throat. Aegon's face was intolerable. Transfigured by wrath, it terrified him and he felt unable to resist. Leading the way rapidly up the tower, he fled to the comfortable horror of the Master and it's known pain rather than face the unknown possibilities that followed him.

It struck him with the force of a thousand hammers as he opened the door to the Forbidden.

Aegon wore the face of his father, dead in the accident, relived in nightmares.

 

Graeson watched Ayden crumple in the doorway, and let Aegon slide him down his arm to stand alone. The haunting warmth of Aegon's hand ruffling his hair contrasted with the rigid tendons of the other hand clenching bare steel. He wondered briefly as Aegon rushed to leap Ayden at Aegon's ability to be tender at a time like this.

 

Moving forward, he bent to help Ayden. Green eyes fluttered open and locked onto his in terror. He felt himself falling. Or was Ayden flying up? As his hand touched Ayden's face, he felt Adyen's hand touch his. A silent explosion of golden-edged white with a core of darkness rushed to encompass them both.

 

****

 

"One, we are One," crooned the Master as he loving reached for the final prey. The circle was closed, this was the ONE. He spun with viperish speed as the door crashed open. His Slave lay crumpled in the doorway and a sword-bearing man leapt the body to confront him, only to freeze at the sight of Yui's blood-runed body.

 

The Master, laughing at the blade, moved for this last snack before the feast. Behind him, Yui's eyes went wide in shock as she blurred with mist.

"Aegon," she moaned in torment, caught in the crucible of Dream and Time.

Batting the Master out of his way with the sword's flat, Aegon rushed to her far side, and knelt to grasp her hand as he still eyed the Master. Psychic and Spells rose to hover ready at his shoulders as he mustered all his weapons.

The Master leapt forward.

Aegon's sword left a crimson smear of fire in the air as it swept in a vicious arc - over the Master's head. The momentum of the missed swing left him offbalance as he lunged desparately to intercept the Master's strike at the true target - his wife. Master's hand touched Yui's hand as Aegon's hand covered both - a fractional second too late.

In the doorway, Graeson screamed. Reality shifted with his unleased power - and finally the Nightmare ended.

 

***

 

Yui woke lazily and stretched in contentment. She gazed greedily at Aegon's naked body, tracing his powerful lines with hungry eyes. That was all that was hungry, for the Morning Sickness was clenching her stomach again. Slipping from bed, she thought longingly of Aegon's warmth. The ridges of patterned scars puckered slightly against the morning chill as she belted a long robe over her rounding form. Moving to the balcony, she greated the lemony morning sun with an upturned face. Her fingers gently massaged her the still taunt stomach muscles guarding her womb.

"Are you aware in there? I had the strangest dream last night, that I was caught in your dream. Sometimes there will be the darkness rising inside me. But you need never fear that, my little tadpole. Daddy and I will always guard you with our love."

 

She sighed in pure joy as Aegon's arms slipped around him. She leaned back into her sunshine man was like a furnace to her touch. His voice rumbled through his chest and she felt as well as heard it.

 

"How's our little man this morning? I had the strangest dream last night."

"I also."

"He'll be named Graeson."

"Yes." The stood silently, comfortably together. It was with a certain sadnessness that Yui felt the baby move and realized although she would share everything with Aegon, this secret feeling was hers alone.

As Aegon's hands cupped and pressed, trying to feel the activity from the outside, she covered his hands with hers and whispered defiantly warning to any who would try to part the three of them.

 

"We are One..."