"Here in the darkness"
"Here in the darkness"
"HERE IN THE DARKNESS"
Runes painted gold lit up like the fallen stars, and a figure covered in a black cloak lay in the circle, surrounded by strange people who looked at the masked figure in awe. The scenery suddenly changed. She stood in the same room as before, but most of the strangers were gone, all except for one. He sat naked inside a carefully made glass sphere with nothing but the echoes of his miserable thoughts keeping him company.
Only then did she realize she knew the man. His characteristics until then were blurred, but now the faceless man suddenly had a face, the face of her father. He was staring past her, focused on the cellar door. She tried to turn around, to find the object of his undivided attention, desperate for a clue, a hint to understand why her father, the all-mighty-powerful lord Morpheus, was caged. only she couldn't move. From head to toe, her limbs were stuck. Even her eyes couldn't shift.
Panic took over her as she was forced to stand still like the statues in the palace and see what would follow. She wanted to shout, to cry, to tell her father that all would be alright, but to no avail.
Jessamy, the beloved and ever-so-loyal raven that followed her father everywhere, flew straight towards the glass sphere. Jessamy tried to break it open with her beak, but the only damage she managed to achieve was a couple of mere scratches.
She watched anxiously. Her eyes had started burning and watering as she was not able to close them, but she paid no attention to her pain.
She hoped that Jessamy could figure out how to get her father out of there. She wished she could do something, anything to help.
BANG
Her heart almost flew out of her chest as she witnessed shocked Jessamy explode as a bullet struck her head and her corpse fall lifeless to the cold ground.
The last thing she saw was her father's heartbreaking expression, before she woke up drenched in sweat.
It took her a moment to comprehend everything she had just witnessed. She moved her trembling fingers, relieved that she was no longer bound like a statue. Her face was wet, and only then did she become aware of the steam of tears escaping her eyes.
"Father," she whispered, her voice shaky before she hurried out of her bed. She grabbed a long red silky robe from the edge of her bed, where she had dropped it carelessly last night and ran out of her room. Her feet stepped on the cold marble floor of the palace, but she couldn't care less at the moment. She had to warn him. She made it to the throne room and tripped over her robe, falling hard on her knees.
"Are you okay, my lady?" asked a concerned Lucienne, as she helped the girl on her feet.
Lucienne truly was a God-sent gift. The loyal bookkeeper was like a second mother to the girl, and despite not having a title, she always called her "my lady", out of respect. The girl had no time to answer.
"Iphigenia, what is the meaning of this nonsense?" Her father's calm yet harsh and intimidating voice never failed to bring chills to Iphigenia; she often wished she had inherited it, but instead her voice was soft like velvet.
Her father was the King, Dream of the Endless and Ruler of Dreams and Nightmares. He was dressed as usual in a black fashionable robe and his ruby, which shone like the titan's Helios golden carriage, was hung around his neck. His helm, his sigil, was in his hand along with his pouch of endless sand.
"He is going to the waking word," she realized, and her heart ached at the mere thought of him imprisoned, chained by ungrateful mortals.
"Are you traveling to the waking word my lord?" Iphigenia fidgeted with her trembling fingers, which had not stopped shaking since she awoke.
"Yes, a nightmare, the Corinthian has escaped from the realm. This is the last straw. When I return I'll have to modify him."
"I don't think this is a very good idea," Iphigenia said, which earned her a harsh look from Dream. "Please don't go, at least alone. Let me go with you, or even better, I'll go instead of you, my lord," she hurried to explain, hoping that for once her father would listen to her.
"I beg your pardon?" he hissed, and the air suddenly became chilling cold; she had angered him. "You know that you are forbidden to leave the realm. and don't forget your.....relations with the Corinthian. Who tells me that instead of bringing him back you won't help him?"
Despite being used to it, Dreams' words cut like a dagger through her, but she sucked it up and permitted it. "But, father, I saw in my dream that you were captured and-"
"Enough!" said her father, and she could detect the underlying threat in his voice. "When I return, I'll deal with whoever foolish nightmare intruded into your dreams. leave us, now."
"I just want to help," Iphigenia swallowed the lump forming in the throat; of course he wouldn't believe her. "My king," she gave a small bow and started walking away. She needed to change her clothes anyway. She couldn't just wander around in her robe no matter how much she wanted to.
She heard Lucienne admitting to her father that she too had a bad feeling about this mission. Lucienne explained perfectly that while nightmares thrived there, where they could unleash all the cruelty they carried close to their nonexistent hearts, dreams were powerless there.
HE was powerless there.
Of course Dream ignored her, why should he listen to her? He was the monarch, the endless and they were his servants for all eternity.
He was everything and they were nothing, at least to his eyes that is.
As she opened the door of the throne room, the sound of his sand dropping to the ground filled her ears. She looked over her shoulder, but he was long gone.
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Walking around the realm was like a dream. There were so many magical places to wander through, every one of them inspired by the endless imagination of the visitors. Iphigenia had lived in the realm for thousands of years, yet there were landscapes she hadn't visited, only overheard stories about them from fellow residents.
She had worn a light blue dress, made by the softest fabric to ever be formed. She walked out of the castle and crossed the stone bridge which was held by two stone hands, similar to her father's. She was mad at him, but she had to admit that he did a fantastic job, when creating the Dreaming.
Her previously gloomy mood improved significantly with each passing greeting and warm smile sent to her by dreams and nightmares alike. She was loved by all of the realm's people, inhabitants, some going as far as to call her the Dreaming's jewel. Dreams loved her because she was caring, kind, and despite not needing to, she always offered her help. Nightmares were fond of her, because her mother was the wailing lady, the best of them. Many of them, including the Corinthian, had confided to her that they believed their lord and master should have given her and her mother their rightful title.
She never told her father about it.
Gregory, the gargoyle, was flying in the sky, slicing through the soft clouds, his shadow huge on the ground, dancing around Iphigenia, earning a chuckle from her.
She arrived at the huge stone house, a magnificent building with the most beautiful view of the realm. She didn't bother to knock on the beautifully carved door, made of black wood. She walked in and the sounds of crying and sobbing reached her ears. Her mother must be busy.
"Mum," she yelled, and a few seconds later, Electra made her appearance.
Iphigenia admired her mother. Despite not being one, she always dressed and behaved like a queen. A pity her father didn't let her help him. Then again in the current state of their relationship she doubted anything good could possibly result from their cooperation.
Electra hugged her only daughter tightly. When she finally let go the both of them made their way to the comfortable armchairs. The wailing was still echoing around the house.
"When will he go? His screams are horrifying, and are we drinking wine at that hour of the day?" Iphigenia asked as Electra poured red wine on two golden goblets.
"I for sure need it. He has been crying for the last three hours, I didn't manage to get an ounce of rest." Electra drank her wine in a matter of seconds, and she didn't hesitate to pour a second cup.
"He sure has some impressive lungs, but can you wake him up? I need to speak to you about something important."
Her mother swallowed down her second cup of wine, before she headed back upstairs, where the bedroom stood.
In the meantime, Iphigenia admired the many paintings decorating her mum's living room. All of them were painted and gifted to her mother by some of the greatest mortal artists to ever live, like Michelangelo. Before Electra had the chance to break their hearts, those mortals, artists to their very soul, would search the sky and earth to find supplies while dreaming and inspired by her beauty and grace, they would create paintings and statues that looked almost divine.
The screams stopped and her mother returned, looking quite relieved.
"He was already exhausted from all the crying. I told him how his weakness and misery led his wife to cheat on him and leave him for his brother, and he woke up. I hope I won't have to deal with him any time soon. Now what has you so flustered?"
Iphigenia took a generous sip of her cup, gathering the courage to tell her mother about her worries. And she did. She didn't spare a single vision from that horrid dream. Except her mother didn't have the response she had originally expected.
Sure, Electra and Morpheus had had some issues for some centuries that had only worsened in the last couple of decades, but to laugh was just plain cruel.
Electra nearly doubled over from all the cackling. Tears had formed in the corner of her eyes, and she struggled to breath. "You are worried that Morpheus is going to get..... hurt by mere mortals?"
"When you put it this way it sounds ridiculous. I said that they were going to capture him."
Electra finally calmed down and intertwined her daughter's hand with her own. "Iphigenia, please listen to me. I understand that your, let's call it vision, startled you, but your father is Dream of the Endless, more powerful than a god. I swear to you he won't get hurt.
Iphigenia nodded her head, and the more she thought about it, the idea of her father being trapped seemed more and more absurd. She was overdramatic, he would be fine. She would probably get a scolding for her behavior when he returned, but he was going to be there; that was all that mattered.
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She left about an hour later, dizzy from the delicious wine and no longer sick with worry. She opted to go for a walk on Fiddler's Green. The landscape always brought her comfort. Flowers from all over the world bloomed there, raising aromas in the air that were intoxicating. The limitless trees offered shade to those passing by, accompanied by the sound of birds chirping.
She felt at peace.
When she became too tired of walking, she laid down and closed her eyes, enjoying the scenery. She often wished she could stay like this forever.
"You are alive, or should I arrange for a funeral?" Iphigenia's eyes opened and a smile formed on her face. She sat up, resting her body on her arms, eying the person who interrupted her rest.
"It depends. If I'm alive will you go away and let me relish in bliss, or will you annoy me?"
The person who had spoken to her, sat clumsily next to Iphigenia, resting her head on Iphigenia's lap. Her black, like coal, hair and grey streaks were spread like a halo and her extraordinary light blue, almost white eyes were staring at the afternoon sun.
"You know better than anyone, cousin, that I'll never let the opportunity of annoying you go."
"Dear gods, Valeria, you truly are a piece of work. If that is your answer, then I guess our lovely aunt Death will have to accompany me to the sunless lands."
"Silly of you to think that I'll let you cross over alone. If I have to, I'll follow you to death."
Iphigenia chuckled at the overdramatic response. "How did you get here? Father left a while ago."
"Since before you woke from your slumber. I needed to go through some archives of the Dreaming's library and uncle gave me permission to enter."
They fell inτο α comfortable silence. Iphigenia braided Valeria's hair the best she could while Valeria hummed an old tune and examined her ink stained fingers.
"How is Destiny?" Iphigenia asked.
Valeria groaned. "He is still the old miserable anthropomorphic personification you know. He is always reading his endless boring book and on the rare occasion he doesn't he keeps pestering me about not working hard enough" she said the last fraze, mimicking Destiny's depressing voice.
"Instead of appreciating me while working, he only checks on me when I'm on my break." she kept complaining.
"At least you have duties. And he listens every now and then τo your opinion." muttered Iphigenia. "I tried offering to help him this morning and he got angry! He even demanded that I leave immediately."
"You want to exchange Dads?" asked Valeria, not at all offended by her cousin. She was more than aware of her strained relationship with her uncle, Dream.
Iphigenia giggled at the thought of her father having to deal for a whole day with Valeria. He would go bonkers. Valeria, unlike her, was stubborn, a hothead, sometimes a little lazy and was more than willing to move stars and earth to prove she was right, even if she was at fault. "Although Destiny and I can get along just fine, I don't think the same can be said for you and father. You two would cause a war over the tiniest disagreement"
Valeria laughed before asking what she truly wanted. She was burning with curiosity. "I think that's enough talking about our fathers. They are the least of my worries right now. What concerns me most is you. Tell me everything!" Valeria basically demanded, excitement quite obvious.
"What is there to talk about me?" Iphigenia asked, though she feared she knew where this conversation was going.
"Well, how is Igor these days? I last saw him about a decade ago," pondered Valeria, a wide Cheshire grin spreading on her face. Iphigenia felt her cheeks heating up, and she desperately hoped she wasn't blushing.
"How should I know? Go ask him." she said dismissively, even though she too was grinning like an idiot.
"Oh, come on, I can sense the tension between you two from MY realm. For the last century you two have been nonstop flirting with each other. When are you going to finally bed him?"
"Valeria!" exclaimed a visibly embarrassed Iphigenia. "I'm NOT going to bed him. In fact, I'll do nothing, absolutely nothing."
"Yes, sure. Like you did absolutely nothing with Cleopatra, or Jack the pirate." Valeria gave her a knowing look as she stated some of her cousin's past flings.
"Those were completely different situations," Iphigenia tried to reason. "Both of them were mortals, visitors to the Dreaming, not residents. You know that father doesn't want me to interfere on such an intimate level with his dreams and nightmares."
"A bit hypocritical of him to say, considering who your mother is, but alright," said Valeria and she suddenly stilled, before she smiled yet again, causing Iphigenia to raise her eyebrows in confusion.
"I think that it's time for me to go. I'll see you soon," said Valeria, while she gave Iphigenia a goodbye kiss on the cheek and got up. Only then did Iphigenia realize the reason why Valeria's visit was cut short. Walking towards her was Igor, also known to many as the crimson blade.
Igor was one of her father's creations. A warrior, who along with other nightmares, hunted the dreams of mortal men who had served as soldiers in battles. His purpose was to help the mortals who had faced war overcome the trauma war created.
He was one of the best soldiers in the realm; he was fast and skilled with his sword, cutting through enemy troops with ease, painting his silver blade crimson with their blood. His skills were what drew Iphigenia to him, but his personality is what truly won her over. He was harsh and stoic on the outside, but when they were together, she was given a glimpse of a part of him that was hidden deep inside his soul. Igor was passionate and sweet and he would always shower with compliments and gifts.
The fact that he was extremely good-looking, certainly didn't hurt. He was tall, had a lean body, but with some muscles in the right places, resembling ancient Greek statues depicting heroes. He had short black hair -fit for a soldier-, and dark, soft skin she could cling on to for ages.
"Hi, what are you doing here," Iphigenia asked softly while smiling. He was gorgeous.
"I heard you were nearby, so I just wanted to give you these," he said, handing over a bouquet of yellow tulips that he had been hiding behind his bag.
Iphigenia let out a small gasp at the gesture.
"Why does he have to be so perfect?" she cursed in her mind.
"Thank you Igor, they are beautiful," she said, accepting the gift. They would look lovely on her nightstand.
"Do you mind if I stay with you here for a while?"
"No, no," Iphigenia hurried to say. "You are more than welcome to stay. Here, sit next to me." She patted the ground next to her and he obeyed. Only then did she realize he was wearing his armor. She resisted a groan. "Like he isn't attractive enough already, he has to make it harder for me."
"Aren't you supposed to be working?" she asked, and Igor gave her a boyish grin.
"Let's just say that I have a day off. You are far more interesting."
"You don't mean it," said Iphigenia, and was taken aback when Igor grasped her hand, rubbing circles over her palm.
"I do mean it. You are the most captivating being in this and any other universe."
"Please don't say that," pleaded Iphigenia, but only leaned closer to him.
"Please keep talking," a sinful part of her wished she could voice.
"You have ignored me since the night you kissed me. And if you regret it, it's fine, but if you don't, then stop torturing me."
They had their foreheads pressed together now.
"You know why we can't be together," she said under her breath, so quietly she barely heard it.
"I don't care. If in order to taste your lips one more time I'll have to endure whatever punishment Lord Morpheus sees fit, so beat it."
Their lips met in a rough kiss. Igor's lips were soft and warm and were performing absolute wonders for Iphigenia at the moment, who, despite having her eyes closed, saw bright constellations and stars from her bliss. Had she been standing, she surely would have fallen as her legs had given out long ago. Meanwhile, Igor could taste sweet wine on Iphigenia's velvet lips, and he was determined to drink all of it to the very last drop.
Their mouths danced against each other, their short breaths sending vibrations down their spine, exciting them both greatly.
Their worries were long forgotten.
Igor bit her bottom lip, earning a gasp from her, as she felt her self-control slip, while lust and desire took a hold of her.
Iphigenia somehow found herself on top of Igor, who was lying on the green ground, but she didn't stop kissing him.
Her hands wandered to the back of his head, and she scratched his neck with her long nails, while his were greedily exploring her body, leaving goosebumps wherever they traced despite the layer of clothes separating his hands from her skin. The heat had become unbearable, yet neither of them dared to let the other go. Instead, they tried to pull each other even closer, afraid that if their embrace broke, the other would disappear.
Someone cleared their throat. "Excuse me, my lady," Lucienne's snapped Iphigenia back to reality. Her previously closed eyes, suddenly widened, and she stumbled away from Igor, who had a dizzy expression.
"Lucienne, this is not what you're thinking," Iphigenia hurried to explain. Only a few seconds ago, her limbs were trembling with excitement, but now they were shaking with fear. "We, Igor and I, we fell. I mean, I fell and ended up on top of him, and because of the fall, our lips connected, but it was an accident, it was not intentional. Please don't mention this to father," she begged Lucienne, who just looked extremely uncomfortable to even be there.
"That is why I am her, my lady. Your father, Lord Morpheus, has yet to return."
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"We must send someone to look for him"
"Some dreamers have yet to make up"
"He must have abandoned us, like his brother the infamous destruction of the endless"
"What are we going to do?"
Dreams and nightmares alike, along with all the rest of the residents of the realm, had gathered outside the palace demanding answers from a sleep-deprived Lucienne and a worried Iphigenia. Weeks had passed since Lord Morpheus' visit to the waking world, and he had yet to return. His absence had brought catastrophic consequences to the visitors. Some of them couldn't wake up, while others failed to reach the realm.
Chaos was the only word that could possibly describe the current state of the realm. The inhabitants were rightfully angry and worried. Only Lucienne and Iphigenia didn't know how to comfort them, for they too were wondering the same questions.
Electra made her appearance and gracefully walked through the crowd and joined her daughter's side.
"You must say something, anything," she whispered to Iphigenia, who was on the verge of crying.
"What am I supposed to say? They want answers which are unknown to me."
"You are the daughter of the king. You must take his place, at least temporarily, or at least make an announcement. Anything to get them out of our feet, then we can do some damage control." Iphigenia was about to yell at her mother, but stopped when she took notice of her attire.
Electra's normally silky hair was a mess, and dark circles had formed under her eyes. She bared no jewels, and her black dress was slightly crumbled. She looked like a completely different person.
The voices of the crowd became louder and louder, and Iphigenia finally snapped. Since Lucienne informed her that her father hadn't returned, anxiety had taken over her heart, while her guilt was eating her whole. Everything was changing, and she felt powerless.
She wanted all of it to stop.
Anger that she hadn't ever experienced before awakened like a beast hidden inside of her and she shouted for them to shut up. A long silence followed as everyone stared at Iphigenia in shock.
No one had seen her get mad before much, less heard her scream.
Iphigenia breathed heavily, a wave of newfound determination and confidence suddenly washed over her.
"Hunters," she addressed the two dreams who frequently entertained the guests and visitors with pleasant hunting trips. "You will travel to the waking world and try to find any trace to your master. If you haven't found him by the fifth day, I want you to return. As for the rest of you," she said, this time addressing the crowd, "I won't have you ever come here and cause such a commotion again. If you need something, you know the proper ritual to ask for it. Lucienne will arrange for you a meeting with me and I'll take care of it the best I can. However, if this nonsense is repeated, there will be severe consequences. Do you understand?"
No one responded.
"I said, do you understand?" she yelled, and a rumbling of a thunder was heard, which startled even her, but she tried not to show it. This time, her question was met with several nods and sounds of agreement.
Only then did her courage leave her. Lucienne must have sensed that as she took control from there.
For the next few days, Iphigenia lost touch with reality. Never before had she felt such anger, and the new emotion scared her. She was also scared of what had followed said emotion. She had generated a thunder; she shouldn't be able to do so. She was given no title by her father, and so she was given no power over the realm.
A week after her speech, which made history in the realm, she was crowned queen. The coronation was quick and simple, as many affairs needed to be dealt with.
Many were the dreams and nightmares who swore loyalty to their new queen and clapped when she ascended the throne and a silver diadem was placed on top of her head.
She knew that she would have support from some of them, Lucienne and her mother.
Yet when she sat for the first time on the throne, she felt more alone than ever.
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Hello, I hope you liked the chapter.
Tomorrow is my birthday so I'm pretty excited.
Please vote and comment!