The Lord of the Dreaming has disappeared.
In his absence, the Dreaming has collapsed into decay, and many of its citizens-dreams and nightmares created by Lord Morpheus-have fled for other realms or the Waking World. Only a loyal few remain behind...
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ABANDONED.
It is how many residents of the Dreaming feet, after decades of their Lord being gone. As time went on, as the Dreaming began to be affected by his absence, many left. Fled. Few are left to wander the halls of the palace and the grounds: Lucien, Cain and Abel, and Aisling.
Aisling tips their face upward, to the overcast sky. It has looked this way, with clouds and an air of foreboding, for years now. Aisling's lost count of how many. All they know is that they do not like it. At all.
If you ask Cain, he will say that Aisling likes very few things, and that he himself is on the extensive list of things they dislike. Which is true, but this is a different sort of dislike. This is bone-deep, settling within them like it's part of their being. Aisling doesn't like this, and they know they can do nothing about it.
They want to rip the menace apart with their own two hands. But that's impossible. Not unless they discover who or what has kept Lord Morpheus from the Dreaming all these years. Then Aisling can take the revenge their palms so dearly itch for. They curl their fists, allowing their nails to bite into the skin of their palms. Someday.
But not today. Today, the silence of the Dreaming is interrupted by Lucienne's running footsteps approaching them. Aisling lowers their face and turns to her, furrowing their brow. She looks out of breath, though a hopeful smile touches her lips. It's an expression Aisling hasn't seen on her in many, many years.
"He's back," Lucianne says. "Our Lord is back."
—
AISLING greets Lord Morpheus in the ruins of the throne room. His mouth is open in surprise and... what looks like pain, if Aisling's correct. It is not an expression they have often seen on his face, and they do not like it at all. They want to fix it.
They can not smile at him, though. Instead they step forward, lifting their arms to embrace him. To some small surprise, he allows it, hesitantly raising his hands to settle them on Aisling's back for a moment. When he lowers them, Aisling steps back. Such embraces are rather uncomfortable for both of them.
"I am here to do your will, my lord," they say. "Whatever I can."
Lord Morpheus nods, accepting their never-changing loyalty, and steps past them. "Where are the others?" he asks, his voice low and sad. He turns to face Lucienne and Aisling. "Why is the Dreaming empty?"
Aisling looks at Lucienne. She lowers her gaze to the cracked stone floor, sighing. "They left, my lord," she says.
Dream of the Endless looks between his two remaining servants, eyes darting between them. Aisling kneels before him, lowering their head. Bloodred hair tumbles down around their pale face, and they rest one hand on the hilt of their sword. "They lost faith in you," they tell their lord. "And they did not listen when Lucienne and I said you would never abandon us."
He considers them, then reaches out a hand and lifts them back to their feet. "I believe, Aisling, that I may have a job for you."
—
LUCIENNE calls Aisling to the newly-reformed library later that day. Papers are spread on her desk, a stack of books towering above her head on the very edge of the wooden surface. She, of course, is as put-together as ever. She should never change.
She looks up as Aisling enters, sword at their side as always, dressed in a black and purple suit. "Oh good," Lucienne says. She puts down her pen and pushes some of her papers into a neat pile. "These are for you. Lord Morpheus wants you to find these Dreams and Nightmares and bring them back, if you can."
Aisling raises an eyebrow as they take the pile. They recognize many of the names written there. "And if I cannot bring them back?" they ask. "What am I to do then?"
Lucienne nods to Aisling's sword: their prized possession, it follows them everywhere. The silver hilt bears a dark purple stone in the pommel, and if stood upright, it is a full four and a half feet tall. "If they cannot be convinced," Lucienne says, "you can use that." She looks down at the desk. "Destroy them."
For that is another thing about Aisling's sword. By the grace of Lord Morpheus, they can use it to end the life of a Dream or Nightmare—if their Lord wants them gone, at least. Having this permission, to destroy those that do not wish to return to the Dreaming, is the most broad permission to do so that Aisling has ever had.
They nod. "Understood." Lucienne nods back, and Aisling turns on their heel, flipping through the stack of papers as they leave the library.
Lucienne has provided a convenient list on the first page, of course. The pages below contain other information she's managed to find, but the first page is a short list of the missing Dreams and Nightmares Aisling is to search for:
The final name gives Aisling pause. They do not know of any Nightmare by the name Seven of Spades, and they take pride in knowing at least the names of every inhabitant of the Dreaming. That they do not recognize this name, then, either means they missed something, or something went wrong.
Aisling turns back to Lucienne. "This last Nightmare... I am not familiar with them."
Lucienne comes around the desk, peering down at the page. "Oh yes," she says. "Seven of Spades was Lord Morpheus' last project before he..." She trails off, clearly unsure of how to refer to the event. "Anyway," she continues, "she was left unfinished and somehow gained sentience. She will be difficult to locate, I'm sure."
Aisling sighs. "Lovely," they mutter, and nod to Lucienne. "Well, thank you. I will return. Soon, I hope."
Lucienne chuckles. "Good luck," she says, smiling warmly at Aisling. They can't help but smile back before they leave the library to set out.
—
1048 words. The ending isn't my best but heyyyyy I've started this! Lucienne and Aisling are best friends and this is canon, thank you lol. Do let me know your thoughts! Mags 💛
