An Ongoing Dream

[StingyParrot 1595]

 

The Dreamer dreamed, imagining an ever-changing world riddled with wars and wonder, trials and treasure. He envisioned himself within that world, and dreamt that he was a blacksmith from a land without name, with a foggy past and uncertain future. He soon discovered that others populated the dream, some of whom were delighted to show him how it worked. This dream, he found, was shared with those others, and he existed both within and without it.

 

In time, the Dreamer became natured to the customs of this dream, as he watched himself become a soldier, then a knight, fighting in a war against a bandit plague. Then navigating the currents of a relationship, soon steering the helm of a family as great change swept over the land, and he was moved elsewhere, after much bravery and suffering from the denizens of the realm.

 

The projection found himself in another war, similar to his first - this time, against natives of the land his people had taken up residence in. In-between, toasts were made, parties were held, and all manner of things happened - yet the Dreamer only knew of these above the world, not within them. He mourned alongside his projection as its soulmate was claimed by battle, and he nudged the lost blacksmith along to bury himself in his work, trying to forget, or to become numb.

 

The blacksmith drifted, but eventually reconciled himself with his loss, in time to move on from the world and so pass into darkness. Little remnants of his existence, swords forged, or paths touched, would be found by the Dreamer in the time to come. At that time, the Dreamer crafted himself another projection, a scarred youth from an eastern land who, on a quest for knowledge, became a master wizard of a city of magic and learning. 

 

The Dreamer felt discontent ripple across the dream, as the beings with whom he’d shared his story with and made his mark on theirs found themselves adrift, their city struck down by a powerful being. He shared in their discontent, and felt angry, for a time. Then he moved on in what way he could, nudging his projection to return to his homeland and share the knowledge he had learned in thanks for the people who had welcomed him, a scarred youth tired from weeks of travel.

 

The Dreamer had met others who shared the dream. One had entered this world around when he did, and their stories still touch to this day. Another, who gave him cause to think deeper about how his projection’s actions were described, how his personality would shift. Others had woke from the dream, and he mourned for them. Yet, he thought, They had left this dream and returned to the world in full. Did that make them better for it, or worse? He would not know. He was sad for their loss, for their stories had been bright and colorful, full of nuance. Their stories had influenced how he had told his own, and he mourned such because the time he’d spent with them was wonderful enough to feel loss for when they were at an end.

 

Content with his projection and his story, the Dreamer split his attention, now watching the journey of a young ward of a noble house, then the creation of a diminutive being of steel and magic. He spoke with other dreamers of the inner workings of the dream, and soon formed his own opinions on such as he discovered new ways to express himself within the dream. Magic, perhaps, or fantastical science. 

 

The Dreamer found himself entwined with multiple stories - the magician struggled with a sorcerous curse that he, deep down, wanted, and the young ward sought guidance for his fears. A war that divided the dream raged around him, yet seemed to part around him, like a stream around a rock, as he continued to nurture his stories, watching them grow. What fruit would they produce? What tales would he spin next from the dream? All remains unknown.

 

Spoiler

Just a creative writing piece about my LOTC journey so far. It's been great, and I'm sure more's to come.