Day: 26 Month: Dyo (Spring) Year: Year 81378 =============== Selin was in a mist, a haze. It was a weight on her like a brick shroud. It was the same feeling she always got from being in a dream: aware, but not awake. Her thoughts fell out of her head and around her, flashing bits and pieces in no particular order, looping words and sentences in colourful strings that she could grab. The dreams always made her feel mentally tired. When she woke up in the morning, her body would be in perfect working order, but her mind would work differently. No wonder people avoided her. Even her roommate had moved out, frustrated with Selin's lack of awareness of things around her. She looked around, into a mirror that seemed to be growing out of the ground. She was in her bipedal form, her long black hair flowing loose around her head, as if she were in water. She wore a long white dress, one that she remembered her mother wearing when she was very little. They were at a picnic. Her father had asked Selin to please pass the sandwiches. Her little sister - did she have a sister? - was sleeping in her mother's lap, a fuzzy little grey pup in a field of white cloth. Her mother smiled. "Selin, pass your father the sandwiches." Then she blinked and the thought vanished. A road stretched out in front of her, twisting around and around without end. Selin was afraid to go near it, as if it would slide out from beneath her. She dropped onto all fours and placed a finger on it hesitantly. Immediately the road snapped tight, straightening out into an endless stiff length before her. She got up and set a foot on it, then the other, like a tightrope walker at a circus. She had never been to the circus. She was going to go with her father. They had made plans and everything. She would wear her special blue dress, the one that matched her eyes and her pendant. At that age, her pendant went all the way to her stomach. They had made plans to go to the circus and see the acrobats and the jugglers and the clowns. But then it had rained, and her special blue dress got muddy, and that was the end of that. The word pjatt stretched out along her in fancily drawn English letters, getting skinnier as she walked further. It was the same blue as her dress, as her eyes and pendant. She wondered where she was headed. Was she going to see her parents? She looked up into the endless void of Fronima. The road had no end. She walked like a tightrope walker. A little fuzzy pup in white cloth. This time, I'll find them! fell into the air as she thought it. I must! But quietly, invisibly, she wished she could believe the thought that snaked out in front of her.
My father is a baker My mother is a nun So I know how to bake a cake And I don't have any fun. She was jumping rope. She was little. She had friends. Get some water my mama said And come home fast to have some bread But when I got up to the hill How many pails did I spill? One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine... She had two friends. She couldn't remember their names. Two was the perfect number of friends to have. One you had fun with, and the other you shared your secrets with. Sometimes, if you knew each other well enough, you had the same with both of them. They were best friends, too. To one she was the fun one, to the other she was the confidential one. It was perfect. But she couldn't remember their names. She didn't have friends any more. She was nearing the end of the road, or at least it was starting to turn in a different direction. Around her the air turned darker and redder. It was an ominous feeling. There was a small noise behind her. She whirled around, but no one was there. She turned back and heard the noise again, but when she turned around the space behind her was empty. "Who are you?" she called. Her voice echoed through what seemed like all of Fronima. It was a moment before she got a response. A scratchy voice whispered, "You are not alone." She felt a hand on her shoulder and she screamed.
An old black pendragon stood there, his wings black and feathery, and see through...It seemed that in reality, they did not exist. He looked like the one humans call Anubis. his pupiless, whiteless red eyes flaming in a strange light. He looked very serious. "Your not alone, little one..." His paw still on her shoulder. He was not surprised by the scream, he wasn't surprised by anything anymore. A stange black light seemed to surround him, like he was a source of darkness, a force of night. He was a force of Good, yet a force of Darkness. He could spin anything out of darkness, but they are only illusions produced by his will. Here they were real enough though. Here they had power. His eyes stared at the road. "Walking the thin line we call Reality...Thats what this path is, Reality. Everything we don't want to remember it forces us to it's different for everyone." For him it was the devestation of a race. Losing all he knew, and all that was known about a peaceful race. Being one of the only survivors, he could list the others. He had only met two, he knew of four. "Reality is cruel...don't we know it...don't I know it..." The red flame around his eyes softened slowly, almost as if water had been thown on them. He looked to the side...and hourglass could be seen spinning around and around. It fadeded even as he looked at it. He looked to the other side, a small black Anubis-like pendragon with pure red eyes could be seeing pushing a body...oviously dead. "Mommy...Wake up...Mommy...I'm hungery...Mommy?...Mommy wake up! Please?" Soon that image faded and an older pendragon could be seen staring at ruins in the desert, then turning and leaving. The strange red eyed pendragon hung his head in despair...All these were images of himself, all of his memory...All of his tale being wound in the tapestry of time...
The strange red-eyed dragon was still touching her shoulder, but she felt less frightened now. His memories played in front of her, like onto a projector screen. "Mommy, wake up! Please?" Her eyes grew heavy with unshed tears. Her hand leapt to her pendant, clutching it. "She won't wake up," she murmured. "I know. She'll never wake up." She turned to the red-eyed pendragon. "This is Reality?" He nodded, still transfixed with the images playing out before him. His memory faded away from the "screen", and soon a new one came in. A small pup toddled happily through a field of flowers. Behind her was a billowing white cloth, the legs of a taller dragon. The white cloth caught up to the pup and bent down, revealing a kind, grey face. "Put this on," she said gently, placing a floppy hat on the pup's head. "It'll protect you." The small dragon giggled and fell into her mother's arms. A single drop of water rolled down Selin's cheek. "I understand," said the old dragon, patting her shouler. Selin still held her pendant tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. She paused. "What's your name?"
He nodded "THis is Reality...A thin line ever toying with our minds...The line is just it materialized." He smiled "My name is Umoreul, but you may call me Paush...For that is what everyone calls me in the real world." He held out a paw in friendship. Paush was a mystery to many...He looked different in reality then he did in dreams. He was a real dragon, a very real dragon. A master of seeing and the dark arts. He had mastered what many could only dream of. He looks like the god of mumification himself, many think he is, he denies all of it. He looks young, for a 65,000 year old dragon that is. He feels he has not served his purpose yet though...He must find it and then fade away...Which may be never. "I roam here, looking for young ones that go exploring in Fronima, making sure they don't get lost or hurt. For curiosity never killed the pendragon but inexperiance did."
Selin shook his outstretched paw. "Paush. I'm Selin." She paused. "I come here often, when I fall asleep. But I've never walked Reality before." The old pendragon - Paush - nodded. "It is a strange experience, but it can also be very revealing...and very painful." Selin sighed. "I can tell." The memories had faded away, and she now gazed simply into emptiness, with colourful nonsense words and scribbles drifting slowly and endlessly into the distance. "I haven't thought of my parents in so long. And now it seems like they're coming back." "Are they here in Fronima?" "I think they are. But I've never found them." Selin tugged on her white dress. "I keep hoping I will, though."
Paush closed his eyes and opened them "Yes, they are here, we come from Fronima, and we eventally come back to it." He said this with a sigh, he too was searching for his parents all the time, everytime he came he wished he would find them. Selina was like him in that way, losing parents...Parents are things that when lost and not found toture the soul...It hurts to lose them, to some its ultimate freedom but to most it is pain and suffering. Yet it seems we all must leave in the end. "Fronima is a big place, it is hard to find anything you want...It is bigger than the Universe itself, and you know how big that is."
Winter... cold... A chubby pendragon with two heads is being pummeled with snowballs. The ones throwing them seem to lack faces. A flash of brilliant light, and then it's spring. The snowballs shift into blobs of mud, but the throwers stay the same. <span style='color:orange'>"Just... lemme alone!"</span> <span style='color:gray'>"What's with ya, freak? Afraid to get dirty?"</span> Another flash of light. Then darkness. Three glowing red eyes, followed by unspeakable pain. Pain... and knowledge. Knowledge of the black arts, knowledge of every form of physical and mental torture. A lust to use this knowledge... use it to destroy those causing sorrow. <span style='color:orange'>"You... will... suffer..."</span> <span style='color:yellow'>"Suffer until you cannot suffer any more!"</span> Those throwing snowballs again. They're screaming in pain and terror, their bodies melting, their minds being torn to shreds. And then... With a loud crash that echoes far away, a massive two-headed pendragon lands in front of Paush and Selin. <span style='color:yellow'>"Gwah ha ha hah! I dream so weird dreams. Right, Kil'rogg?"</span> <span style='color:orange'>"Gwoh ho ho hoh! You're right, Kil'rogg. But weirder is that I dream the same dream as you."</span> <span style='color:yellow'>"Are you sure you do? Perhaps I'm dreaming of this, and you're dreaming of something else?"</span> The two heads continue their strange coversasion, seemingly not realizing that Paush and Selin is right in front of them.
Paush looked at this new dragon strangely. He seemed to be a dark artist like himself, but slightly wrong in the head. Paush streached his wings nervously. This dragon seemed to be much like him, flaming eyes and all. He cocked his head to the side and said. "Who are you?" And stood a little closer to Selin just incase this strange dragon would do something dangerous.
<span style='color:yellow'>"Gwah ha... huh?"</span> <span style='color:orange'>"What a weird thing I've imagened!"</span> <span style='color:yellow'>"You imagened? I'm the one dreaming here!"</span> <span style='color:orange'>"Let's test who's right! Pretend that this guy dies! If he's your imagination, he'll die. If he survives, I'll try it.</span> The left head nods. It focuses on Paush, trying to kill him by mere thought. A ghostly vision of Paush being slashed in two zooms past, but the real Paush is still unharmed. <span style='color:yellow'>"Okay, your turn. Let's see if you can do better. Gwah ha ha hah!</span>
Paush looked oddly at the vision of himself dieing. He smiled kindly and thought to himself. "And I thought two heads were better then one." He then cleared his throut. "I'm not a dream nor a figment of your imaginations. I am Paush an anceint Anubial Pendragon. Do not meddle with people you do not know for they hold many surprises." He smirked, he too was a dark-artist and 1,000 years older.
Kil'rogg stretches out a log-like arm and points towards Selin. <span style='color:yellow'>"She then?"</span> <span style='color:orange'>"Is she a dream, unlike you, or is she real? It all seems so foggy to me."</span>
"She is real too, we are in Fromina, I got here thru my daily meditation, her by accident, and you, well most likely the same. We are standing on the thin line we call 'reality' tis a very thin line indeed." He laughed he was rather amussed by all this.
Anja had been listening for all this time from a tree top "ahahaha... what do you mean by 'we', who exacly is this 'we'?" shouted the black caped figure as he acrobaticly jumped down from the tree.
Pendragon sat, crouched. Lavender hue was visible through the mist, highlighted lavender [and sea green] hair hung over her misty green eyes. "I'm not a seer," she sniffed, tears swept her face and trickled down her maw. "The lady was wrong... I don't wanna be a seer..." tail wrapped around her slender figure, comforting her body, shivering and quaking in fear. Seen the day she'd discovered her parents were deceased, many have sworn she has possesed the powers of a seer, a messanger for Fronima and it's crossed. "Mummy, oh mummy!?" a dream loomeed afront her. It's volume was faded, muting as it misted away. "Mummy, daddy? Mum, da'! I need you!" It was her's. The dream belonged to Qoleu herself. To many memories, she thought to herself.
"Hmmm..." del thought, "strange place, uhm, why am i on a flying chair?" Various images flashed before his eyes then suddenly, he was falling, falling, falling, and landed in a lake, whitch proceeded to spit him out and slide away. "Um... Hi everybody." at this point the chair floated down to the ground, soft as a feather, It could be just me, but has anyone else been on a flying chair? This place is kinda cool, its like a cartoon... Hey, uh, how do i get out, anyway?
The dark cloacked figure turned his head towards the strange pendragon on the chair. "You wish to escape? this place is just like a dream, althogh more real. And by the way, do not say that chairs cannot fly, it may beleve you."
<span style='color:red'>Uh, yea, well, what fun can i have here?</span> he reached into his backpack and pulled out three balls juggling them efortlessly
