Open Chronicles Ever More than a Dream?

[Erën]

It was never quite the same, it seemed. Sometimes it was empty. Sometimes it seemed heavy - needed. And then other times it was more listless with wandering thoughts, images, and smells...

"...?"

He drew in a quick and unexpected breath through his nose, and the sensation was sharp, confusing. His brows creased with a sense of discomfort, and then slowly his eyes crept open to blurry vision, and a staggered awareness. He brought his hand up and rubbed his forehead, and then down over his eyes with a gentle squeeze.

A gentle breath left him as his hand dropped to his side again, and only then did he realize he was standing. He began to look around him, trying to gain some understanding, and to remember what had brought him here.

Around him, brush and trees that grew tall, lush and green. They grew up along either side of him, leaving a path which led off one way and one other, on into a seemingly unending dark. Ahead, behind, all around and above he could see only so far. And though everything was illuminated and bright, it was as though some invisible sun's light did shine down upon him from somewhere in a deep, black sky.

He frowned, looking first behind him, and then before him.

He'd had many dreams, lucid ones at that, but this...

He stepped forward, down the grassy path, and trusted it would lead him through the dark. And so it did, on into a open glade. At the center, a man stood hunched near an altar of fire.

Erën paused by the edge of the glade, the man turned to him and waved him closer without hesitation, calling out with the voice of an elder, "come! Stay a while, and listen."

And so Erën drew near, and yet the man remained silent, clearly waiting for something. And Erën, curious and yet quite confident, chose to wait as well.

 

[Carmelea Nosfir]

Spoiler: music

---

How many years, how many dreams?

Or was it a memory? Carmelea had forgotten how to tell long ago, but this one felt as though she were pulled to some purpose, vividly even. She let it take her, walking peacefully into this new dream. Soft grass prodded gently at her ankles beneath the hem of a white dress as the scent of a woodland spring guided her deeper.

It was not until she was brought into the clearing that her eyes flickered open, themselves a white-blue just as her dress, whiter still than her pale skin.

They traced gently round the clearing and up the tallest trees she had ever seen until narrowing at the blackened sky. Not a memory then, for a sun should have made itself known in the burning of veins and eyes both. Finally they fell upon the two men, one elder and an elf, though who was truly eldest remained to be seen.

The raven-haired woman's statuesque expression barely changed, a subtle tilt of the head and regal footsteps that dragged with them long silk being the only sign of acknowledgement.

She sat down on a mossy log that appeared on it's own, hands folded in her lap.

"...and where do I find myself...?" came her husky voice.

---

Erën​

 

[Nuir]

White stretched before Nuir endlessly, the fog of a billowing snow storm.
Yet he felt calm. There was no chill to it. Was he meant to be headed somewhere? Looking down at himself he was in the same cloak and warm blue clothes he had worn when he first left home. Yet, he didn't remember why he was out here.
In the blink of an eye the storm had cleared.

As if he had always been standing there he was met with soft sunlight and lush grass underfoot. His eyes flitted about the greenery with a furrowed brow. There was an odd quality about the flora, a sort of quasi-ness about it's shape, as he began to walk through the brush, sometimes he swore he recognized a rare plant only to look closer and find it to be something else entirely. In this meandering way he discovered a path with a sort of luminesce to it. Insistently so, as if the the path was hurrying him onward.
Nuir let his curiosity for the shifting landscape lead him along the path out towards a much more open area.
He quickened his pace a little as he saw three beings stood about a fire.

As he approached it turned out to be two pale figures who seemed to be waiting and a man tending to the fire.
There was a woman with raven hair and a dignified air. The Other an Elf, with features not so unlike his own.
There was something about the posture of them that struck him that they weren't necessarily a group. If anything the woman's low utterance implied to him that at least the two of them were potentially as perplexed as he was.
He contemplated the answer even if it seemed her question was more rhetorical. There was something familiar about the landscape here, not in that he recognized it, but in the same way a half-remembered name is familiar, or a forgotten word.

Erën
Carmelea Nosfir