24

6 0 0
                                    


Onyx canyons drank in the light of a red sun. As soon as she entered this dream world, Esme sensed someone trying to disrupt her focus and shatter her control. It was easy enough for her to shrug off the mental assault, though others weren't as lucky.

They were hurled into the chasms below, no longer aware this was a dream, pleading for help, lost and frightened. The rest stood atop the midnight stones looking down. A nervous laugh broke out among them. Relief. They had passed the first test. A few turned their heads towards the despairing cries from below, but made no move to help.

"You are chosen," another woman said, her appearance modified to possess clear blue skin and frosted wet hair clinging wet to her back. It was hard to be certain of that, but Esme didn't think she was the same one that had welcomed them in the real world. Her eyes glowed a faint green and the bones on her hands were ridged, arching like talons. "I am Pasithea - the last dream, and one of His Heralds." She smiled. "You will meet the others on a different part of your journey. And if you are truly blessed, you will stand in His presence."

Excitement rippled through the group even as more cries echoed from below. Esme grimaced and did her best to ignore them. If the Knightmare was truly coming here then she couldn't afford to waste her time or her strength helping those people, and coming into conflict with his followers. She'd altered her appearance on the off chance someone recognized her and she had already made a habit of using a private, anonymous session. She needed surprise and stealth.

But those screams...

She shook her head and walked forward, towards Pasithea, who was still speaking. Esme tried to read her profile data but came up with nothing. She must have been using a private account too.

"I discarded my mortal name," continued Pasithea. "In His embrace I have tasted immortality - an endless dream. If you prove that you are strong enough, you may be granted the same blessings."

Esme briefly lost her footing as the black canyon stone began to bubble and melt. A few yelps of pain from the others. Esme willed the rock to cool beneath her and it settled back into place. Pasithea's mocking stare told Esme who was responsible for the sudden destabilization. Another test it seemed.

More acolytes stepped into the dream, their robes disheveled and torn in several places. Their appearance was bland – as if someone had taken a once human face and dulled its features. Deliberately done, Esme assumed. A sign of lower status among the Omens? Perhaps only those who stood highest were allowed to adorn themselves like Pasithea.

They picked out several people from the crowd of supplicants at Pasithea's direction and spoke to them in urgent, hushed tones. Those they spoke to soon wore blurry, non-descript faces like their counterparts. There was a small protest, quickly cut short by the offenders being seized and hurled bodily into the chasms below. Their screams soon joined the rest.

Esme shuddered but kept moving at Pasithea's command.

"Across all worlds you must show mastery," she said. "And to all worlds we will take you."

With a sharp clawing gesture, Pasithea summoned a ball of light into the air. Looking closer, Esme could see the Seed image for a new dream. Tentatively, Esme allowed it to fill her focus, and she felt it pull her away from this world.

Sheets of ice sheared upwards from an earthy forest floor. It was strange to see the sharp white glinting beneath a harsh summer sun, yet showing no sign of melting. Birds chirped in the air and the abundant greenery posed a stark contrast with these wintery slabs.

"Hold the ice in your mind and do not let it melt," a male voice barked. He was dressed in bright golden armor, a gorget stretching up halfway around his face. Esme realized that it covered exactly all the places a mask would not in the real world. The closer she looked, the more it became apparent that his attire was a deliberate mirror of what they were forced to wear in reality. A mockery. "I am Hypnos. And I look forward to breaking you."

InsomniaWhere stories live. Discover now