SWEET DREAMS: A Tale by Jade and sprb_skrbblmnstr

Another tankard after his fight with the shadow elf sent Timbur stumbling to his room to retire for the night. He left the door open, as was customary for the wilder elf since he began residing in the Jester’s Lute. He laid face-first on the bed, finally getting a moment of peace. In that moment, he slipped into a slumber.

As if it wasn’t difficult enough to get his mind off of her, he had his wilder elf heritage insulted by that brash young horse’s ass. On the other hand, if he had any hope of escaping a harsh reality, his drunken haze served as the perfect memory eraser. Timbur entered the dreamworld in a vision that looked very much like he was still awake. The backdrop was a war, and he was on Gemini in his early years, staring at the kind of odds that made most men tremble. The wilder elf, however, was an oak. Grim-faced he was as he stood out in front of his fellow gladiators atop a hill, ready to give the word to charge at their adversaries.

He listened for the screams of his foes. Call it professional courtesy, but he always waited until his enemy was as prepared as possible to take arms against him before unleashing the inner-elf. He heard the bellow of one, which quickly turned to many, then finally all.

“NOW!!!” Timbur yelled to his troop.

The elves marched down the grassy hills to engage in battle. Timbur, wielding a long staff in his left hand, put his helmet on with the other hand before leading his soldiers with a yell to strike fear into the hearts of his larger numbered opposition.

Valere slammed the door to his room behind him and then blinked. The room was dark – did the hospitality in this cesspool not stretch to a few lanterns? Muttering darkly to himself, he stepped forward. Bang. Something rattled and pain stabbed into his shin. Swearing loudly, he reached around, feeling along the furniture until he finally found the bed. Not bothering to remove his boots, he sprawled across the sheets. Downstairs, the tavern was still noisy. He closed his eyes, meditated….

.... and stood on the white shores of the Dream Realm, looking out over his playground. It had been too long, he thought. Silvery water brushed his skin as left the white sands and walked into the shallows of sleep. Still conscious of his body, he felt his heartbeat slow and his muscles relax. He looked down. Infinite specks of silver drifted along the surface, reflecting a moon that did not shine in the obsidian sky.

The first dreams were appearing. Fleeting images danced across the water. The ripples caused by his movement displaced the visions. Valere stopped and looked into the dreams of the slumbering patrons. There were luscious forests, ferocious battles and many women.

The water currents stirred ahead. Valere looked up. A dark leviathan glided in the deeper waters. He extended his hand to the Nightmare. It obeyed his call and circled closer. Where it passed, the forests burned, battles were lost and the women screamed. The images trembled and fragmented as the dreamers woke trembling in their beds.

None of the dreams had been those of the man he sought. He continued onwards, compelling the Nightmare to follow. Others of its kind lurked in the deeper waters and he called them to him.

The water had reached waist depth. He could no longer sense his body. The sounds of the inn had faded. Valere stopped and stared down at the water, watching the pictures on the surface. None of the images or patterns were familiar, but he did not know what the elf dreamt of. Probably women.

He could not walk much deeper without risking sinking into sleep himself. Weeks of exhaustion and stress had made it more difficult to resist the call of the water. Valere reached out and dredged up some of the deeper dreams. They were more focused and powerful than those on the surface. Each portrayed a vivid scenario. He watched each until he could identify its owner. None of them belonged the one he sought, so he brushed them aside.

Just as the temptation to sink into sleep himself became too strong and he knew he would have to return to shallower waters, a glimpse of a familiar and hated face flitted across the water. Timbur. Valere’s eyes narrowed. Details of the dream emerged. It was a battle scene.

He smiled and sunk below the water, finally succumbing to sleep after weeks of deprivation.

For a second, all was quiet and still. A slight mental resistance tried to stop him entering the dream but he forced it aside.

Colour exploded across his eyes. It was chaos all around. The dream had the taste of a memory. Men fought, screaming and hacking at their opponents. But the figments of Timbur’s imagination did not see Valere. He would be a ghost to them until the dreamer noticed him and subconsciously integrated him into the scenario.

Although he could have found his target instantly, Valere walked through the screaming and dying masses, looking around. He had all night to explore and play games, and perhaps he would find inspiration. The warriors were poorly formed husks; featureless glimpses. As he got closer to the elf, the colours became more vibrant and the details emerged as the memory became stronger and more focused.

One of the elves turned and stabbed him. Valere looked down; the sword had plunged painlessly into his chest. The action meant that he was close enough to be noticed. Most likely he was within the dreamers peripheral vision. The sword disappeared, leaving his shirt and body undamaged. He looked up. The attacker had become a grey and blurred outline, rapidly fading out of existence. Through him, Valere saw the reason he was here.

Timbur was lost in his battle rage and oblivious to his presence. For now. His back was turned, which explained the sudden blindness and sluggishness of the warriors nearby.

Valere focused. Manipulating the dream was simple. Royal blue armour covered his body. A sword appeared in his hand. He paused and then swept a hand across his eyes. A silver mask obscured the top half of his face. He strode into Timbur’s line of sight.

The first elf in Timbur’s troop saw him, attacked, and then fell screaming. He allowed Timbur’s mind to fill in the reactions since they were the elf’s friends and comrades. He knew best how their dying screams would sound.

The sword cut into another, and then another. Valere ducked and parried the attacks, becoming immersed with the thrill of violence. It was almost as fun as seducing women.

The last opponent fell, leaving Valere standing alone. Blood splattered his armour. He looked at Timbur and inclined his head, keeping his eyes locked on the elf and a mocking smile on his lips.

Timbur had seen the destruction. He charged forward. The screams of his brethren sent him into overdrive, trying his best to even the score on behalf of his fallen comrades. Revenge must be exacted. Timbur let out a warrior’s shout when he neared his new enemy, using his long staff to pole vault himself from Gemini and onto the green battlefield to take him down.

Timbur balanced his full weight on top of his staff and drew his short sword to engage the blue-clad enemy in a showdown of sharp steel. The adversary dodged the first attack and then stepped back out of reach of the next. This brought a smirk upon Timbur’s face, for he knew tonight he would be in an actual fight.

The warrior would not go down easily, at times he showed signs of brilliance as he defended against Timbur’s berserk swiping, but Timbur had the thought of his deceased brothers to keep him going at his signature fast and rigorous pace.

“You are a worthy foe, but your end is near,” Timbur claimed.

Valere scowled and parried one of the elf’s strikes. Timbur was fast – the sword had brushed his skin once or twice, forcing him to manipulate the dream to disguise the blood.

He took control of the dream.The screams fell silent around them and the warriors faded out of existance. The sudden change in the atmosphere was enough to distract Timbur.

Valere stepped backwards, lowering the sword to his side. “This is fun, but let us get down to business.” He removed the mask and threw it into the mud between them. “I told you to leave my sister alone, elf.”

Timbur paused as his foe’s identity was finally manifest. Valere was certainly not the twin he would prefer to have in his dreams, he was more of an uninvited guest. Timbur removed his helmet and let his braids hang down. A tug at his braids and a tilt of his head ensued, and with it the narrowing of his eyes. The formalities were over, These two were enemies, and a battle was rapidly approaching.

Initially, Timbur clenched his teeth at the man before him. Then a smirk formed at the corner of his mouth as his head dipped, but his eyes stayed locked on Valere, ready for any sharp or sudden movements.

“Greetings, Valere. So, a master of witchcraft, are you?”

“I am a nightmare, elf,” he replied. “Your worst.”

Valere looked to his left. Several of the Nightmares had obeyed his call and followed him into the dream, bringing with them a powerful sense of malevolence and fear. They were invisible for now; sensing and pinpointing with their natural instinct what the dreamer feared the most. Once that happened and Valere allowed them to, they would manifest. First, he would have his own fun.

Timbur stared at Valere with malice in his eyes. He was enraged by the insinuation that Timbur would put unwanted pressure on Karis. He was merely trying to protect her from being forced to share in Valere’s eternally foul mood. He now sickened Timbur, and made the wilder elf wish him bodily harm.

“Why do you wish her to be as bitter as you?” Timbur asked.

A tangle of black roses crawled out of the mud, snaking upwards. They tangled around Timbur’s legs, binding him like iron chains. The elf struggled.

Valere stepped forward, angled the sword in his hand and stabbed it through his heart. The elf grunted, his eyes widening and his jaw clenching to silence a scream.

Judging from the reaction, the illusion of pain was working well. Valere’s lip curled into a small smile. He could not cause physical injury in the Dream Realm, but he could trick Timbur’s mind into thinking that the pain was real. He looked into the wilder elf’s eyes, saw the panic, and his smile widened. Blood stained the elf’s armour. It would even feel warm.

The black roses held Timbur still. The mud writhed and swallowed him like quicksand.

“Bitter?” he replied. “Perhaps I am. Because of the cursed link between myself and Karis, I am forced to consider her wishes above my own, after all. She makes me bitter – I am as much a victim. Do you think I get any satisfaction from constantly being forced to protect her from disgusting animals like you?” Valere twisted the sword, causing Timbur to hiss with pain. “Today I could have pursued that pretty barmaid. I could have been with her now as I would prefer, but then you arrived, so instead here I am here, forced to sacrifice my time to ensure that you will not bother my sister again. So yes, you will have to excuse me for being so bitter. Your suffering can compensate me for the fun I have been cheated of this night.”

Timbur fell to his knees. Valere planted a muddy foot against his chest and shoved him backwards. He pulled the sword free and examined the blood running down the blade. It looked completely real, meaning that he was not so out of practice as he had thought. He cleaned the blade on the elf’s cheek, smearing blood across his skin.

Corpses littered the ground and he beckoned one of the Nightmares forward. The corpses then had features. People Timbur knew. People he loved. Valere looked around, examining the faces. That woman had the same red hair. A sister perhaps? His eyes drifted to the body beside her and his fists clenched. Karis lay there. Her blue eyes were now truly frozen; they stared at nothing. Was the elf trying to play him at his own game? Valere waved the body out of existence.

Timbur stared into a set of blue eyes that were very familiar to him. Briefly. The eyes disappeared soon after with the rest of her body, but where they went was a mystery. Timbur’s drive was heightened even more so, after seeing Valere use Karis to help gain leverage on him.

As he kicked and swung with all his might, he used the visuals of his mother and sisters slain right beside him serve as his rejuvenation when he tired of fighting his way out. And he thought he had seen her there as well. The very reason Timbur crossed paths with Valere to begin with, Karis was more special to him than even he had realized. However, at second glance, she was nowhere to be seen. Had she seen the depths of the muck already?

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, VALERE?!”

“Nothing.” Valere crouched down, tilting his head to stare into his eyes. “Yet.”

Timbur laughed as he realized what the fight was really about. Not over her, not in Valere’s eyes. He wanted to fight for his own selfish gain. Timbur decided since he had no choice, he may as well play the game Valere had set up.

“If you were a little wiser, Valere, you would realize that it is you who is hurting her… not me!!! I’m protecting her from you!!!” Timbur managed to shout.

“I am obviously wiser than you, for you do not know when to accept defeat.”

The mud crawled higher, submerging his heaving chest and one of his arms. The scene flickered as Timbur’s mind tried to wake itself.

Valere shook his head. “No, no.” The scene became stronger again as he held him in the dream state. “You are not the first fool who has opposed me to find death in his sleep. You elves are not as immortal as you believe.” He paused. “You will never wake from this.”

Valere created the illusion of time passing, planting a series of false images in the elf’s subconscious. Timbur’s mind would believe years had passed. The red hair turned silver. His tanned skin creased and became flecked with age.

To keep him asleep, he would sink Timbur’s mind to the depths of the Dream Realm. Unless he also stayed to hold him there, it would only take a day or so for his dreams to rise to the surface. But he would let the elf think this was the last thing he would ever experience. He could and would make each hour feel like an age of pain, fear and misery. Perhaps he would find his sleeping body and drive a real sword into his heart.

Timbur was trying to say something. Roses crawled along his face and sprouted out of his mouth, choking him. The thorns gouged bloody scars into his skin.

“It is too late to beg my forgiveness now,” Valere said. “You brought yourself to my attention and then you defied me. That has consequences.” He looked at Timbur and smirked. “You have only yourself to blame. It was stupid of you to think that you were powerful enough to stand against me and win.”

As Timbur’s aging process accelerated in what seemed to be mere seconds, he became significantly weaker. His efforts to pull his arms from the mud were now futile, and he was choking on black roses. Still he could not give in, he must not give in.

“Oh no, Valere…,” Timbur forced out with a maniacal wide grin. ”...it’s you that will beg for forgiveness.”

“Is that so?” he replied, smirking and folding his arms. “Brave words, and yet the air reeks of your fear.”

The roses continued to sprout from the elf’s mouth and Valere stepped back. A burning forest sprouted from the floor. Lamenting wails echoed through the trees. The Nightmares closed in and the grin left Timbur’s face. He could not see them, but he would feel the crippling fear. It even affected Valere briefly.

The dream fluttered. The Nightmares bristled and retreated a step. Their influence faded.

Valere frowned and looked to the right.

Karis stood there, wearing robes the same shade of midnight as his armor. Her hands were clasped before her, but her eyes were glacial. “Let him go.”

“No,” he replied. As she stepped towards the struggling elf, Valere rose and caught her wrist. “You should not have wandered so far.”

“UNHAND HER, VALERE!!”

She looked down at Timbur, who was still sunken beneath the earth. “Why are you doing this?”

”Why? Do you not see the way he looks at you? It is not a look of respect or affection. He is a hungry man and you are a steak. Do you choose to be blind to the truth?”

“How could I be blind to such intentions and the existence of such men with an example of immorality as great as you before me? You have risked both of our lives by coming here to punish Timbur for an act he did not commit. The Kin-Caid are watching us still. After weeks of careful avoidance, you have walked into the Dream Realm. You have abused your gift in the same criminal manner as before. Do you not learn from your mistakes?” She shook her head. “The only danger here is your recklessness. You have seen malicious intent where it is not present and overreacted. Timbur means no harm.”

“I disagree,” he said coldly, following her gaze to the elf.

“He is honorable -”

“In the name of the true gods, Karis, do not be so gullible,” he snapped. “Open your eyes.” He tightened his grip around her wrist and pulled her a step back. “I shall show you the truth.”

Blood blossomed from her heart, an ugly dark stain against the dress. Karis looked down and her eyes widened. Crimson tears streaked down her cheeks.

“Look at him.”

Timbur was suddenly free of the mud, looking down at his hands. Blood stained his palms and dripped to the floor. He looked up and Valere showed her the elf’s true face; the one he saw lurking beneath the mask of decency. A look of manical evil contorted the elf’s features into a nightmare that even Valere could be proud of. Malevolence gleamed in his eyes.

To his satisfaction, Karis looked horrified. “This is what he means to do to you,” Valere said.

Timbur looked up. Fury filled his eyes. He lurched towards them. A glass wall appeared, blocking his path.

“This is the reality.”

She turned to him, her eyes blazing. “You show a future it is not certain that I have because of your actions!. I have forsaken everything to help you, and yet you do this.” They stared at each other and the anger faded from Karis. She sounded weary as she said, “Release him.”

“No.”

Timbur banged against the wall with all his might to crack the glass wall, but alas, his efforts were in vain. The thick glass had barely seen a scratch from the wilder elf’s frantic bashing of it. He began to tire again, dropping to a knee and slowing down his fists considerably.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?!”

Timbur’s gained a third wind and tried again to penetrate the glass to reach Karis. In actuality, at the moment, he’d settle for getting his hands on Valere. He couldn’t let Valere win.

“KARIS!!! PLEASE DON’T DIE!!!”

Timbur was shouting something but the sound did not reach them. He slammed his fists into the glass barrier, but could not break free.

“Look upon him now,” Karis said. “Still he fights you. You will not break him.” She stared up at her brother. “This is not about defending me, is it? The only injury he has caused is to your pride.” She nodded. “Yes, he has damaged your pride and you cannot stand it. Do not pretend you act on my behalf.”

He glared down at her, still holding her wrist.”You are so easily fooled by his act. Why have you come here to try to help him? It is his hate for me rather than any love for you which gives him his strength and defiance. This is between me and him now, and you are merely a prize he seeks to win.” He looked away and stared coldly through the glass. “I will have my fun with him for a while longer. Leave us.”

Karis followed his gaze. The Nightmares had joined him in the prison. They had become visible, taking the form of spindly shadows and using hooking claws to tear into the Wilder Elf. Karis sharply twisted her wrist free from his brothers grip.

“Even now, after all that I have done for you, you can think of no one but yourself. To think I defended you when Timbur spoke ill of you.”

He did not look affected by her words and merely said, “You cannot fight me. I have control of this dream.”

Karis walked to the barrier and placed her hand against the glass.

A frown flickered across his face, “Karis -”

Her hand trembled and then passed through the glass. Before her brother could stop her, she stepped through and took Timbur’s hand. She was not powerful enough to fight him for control, or willing to put the strain such a struggle would cause on Timbur’s mind. However, she could escape.

The room faded and they were falling through pure darkness for a moment. Karis reached out and created a new dream. The sky lightened to a peaceful twilight. Stars reflected in the tranquil water they now stood upon.

Timbur looked down into the water at his own reflection, it was as clear as a mirror, though it was black. He tilted his head at his own reflection, not sure what to make of the sight.

“What is this place?” he asked.

She kept her back to him and spoke quietly, “I am sorry. He shall not trouble you again.”

He heard the words, but he wasn’t prepared to give her a reply so soon. Timbur took in his new dreamworld scenery. The starry sky was a welcome change from mud and graven images of the people he loved.

He then saw Karis, who put her back to him whilst she spoke. Timbur approached her, gently putting his hands on her shoulders, taking in her scent. He leaned in closer to her and spoke very softly into her ear.

“Do I disgust you? Is that why you can’t bear to face me, my sweet Karis?”

She stared out into the distance. A light breeze stirred her hair.

“To look upon my face seems to invoke a curse I do not wish upon you.” Karis leant back against him for a moment, closing her eyes and allowing herself a small moment of peace.

The dream realm flickered and faded around her as her concentration was disturbed. Back in the real world, she was being distracted. The result was utterly disorientating as the awareness of both worlds clashed. Karis focused on the dream world and looked up at the stars once more. They had blurred as a result of the distraction, but now they redefined themselves.

“Did you see that?” Timbur asked.

She smiled slightly and nodded. Then she sighed and stepped away from him. “I must go. Farewell, Timbur. I wish you sweet dreams.”

Karis walked forward a few steps and then disappeared.