5th of Summer, 510 AV. A dream within a dream, within a dream.
“The best thing about dreams is that fleeting moment, when you are between asleep and awake, when you don't know the difference between reality and fantasy, when for just that one moment you feel with your entire soul that the dream is reality, and it really happened.”
“The best thing about dreams is that fleeting moment, when you are between asleep and awake, when you don't know the difference between reality and fantasy, when for just that one moment you feel with your entire soul that the dream is reality, and it really happened.”
A sea of beautiful lights swirled together, looking like a brilliant color show to the untrained eye. If one could drift closer, if one could manage to look closer, they would be able to see something much different. The sea of color was something much more intricate once you looked past the mass, and delved deeper into the intricacies. It was like seeing a blanket, then peering a little closer just to notice it actually consisted of a thousand little strings. This was almost the exact same, actually. Leaning in close to the blanket of beautiful colors, one would be able to see they were all strings. Little strands of mystical, alluring colors, each and every string looking different from the one before. Some are faint and weak, while some ripple with pure and utter power. Some are blinding, while some are so small that even the trained eye has a hard time seeing them. All of these strings, they all danced, but they danced apart. Some came close, but they hardly ever touched. If you watched long enough though, sometimes they would rub together. Lightly, briefly, but there it was. This was a beautiful place, but a place that no mere mortal could visit.
Not unless they were dreaming.
Two of the Chavi clashed. An explosion of light rippled across the Chavena, the power of the two Chavi sparking off the other.
A man and a woman walked hand in hand through the snow, staying close to each other for comfort. It was obvious that they were lovers, the way that they snuggled to their respective partner, the way that their hands held tight, as well as the way their lips paused mid-sentence to sometimes meet. They were impassioned lovers, giggling and laughing at whatever the other said, staring upon each other with looks of pure admiration. Their fingers were never simply holding hands, they were always dancing, always wrestling in a playful fight. Sometimes they would pause from their lover's spat, but even then, they would always take some other motion. Sometimes the woman would rub her lover's thumb with her own, sometimes they would let their fingers drop apart just to clasp pinkies. It was amazingly romantic for just the simple act of hand holding. They, as a couple, were rather overly romantic. They kissed all the time; in the middle of sentences, in the middle of silence. At one point the man gently caught up the woman in his arms, lowering her slowly to the ground so that they were side by side, and kissed her there in the snow.
It was a beautiful place. They were beside a crystal clear stream, with shining shards of ice flowing along in the cold water. Pure and untouched snow could be found everywhere, coating the bank of the stream, the bare tree limbs hanging all around, and lightly filling the oddly warm morning air. The sun shone, warmth was abundant, but the snow still fell. It was somewhere in the Syliras Wildlands, but nowhere that a normal couple could reach. This place was magical, somehow. The couple were only clothed in simple britches and shirts, but they seemed quite comfortable in their bed of snow. They continued to play and kiss the other, acting like little children with carefree crushes. The man suddenly lifted one hand from the snow, placing it upon her stomach, which was swollen and rounded. The woman was pregnant. They both paused from their play, glancing down at the bulge in her belly. Their playful smiles had changed, but not vanished. They looked at peace now, calmed, and enraptured. Her hand lowered, to land atop his, and they both sat there in peaceful silence.
The snow continued to fall around them, but it never covered them, melting only from their bodies. Suddenly, as if the world had become impatient with the unchanging silence, something changed. The woman shimmered for a brief second, and was engulfed in a short flare of golden light. When the light had died down, the woman was still there, but had changed. Her long black hair was now down from the knot it had previously been in, and fell down around the snow in long and shimmering waves. She was now in a dress, her curvy frame perfectly hugged by the simple white outfit, laced with golden threads. She giggled, as if slightly aware of the change, but didn't really acknowledge it. The man didn't seem aware at all, only brushed a suddenly rebellious strand of black hair out of the way of black eyes, and leaned in for another kiss. The passioned embrace took up a few moments, silence once more engulfing the pretty little scene.
They parted, but their foreheads remained touching. The woman spoke, her voice much more amazing than the most intricate melody. "Stitchie... I have thought of a name for him!" The man chuckled, his eyes shining bright, the dark orbs once more glancing down at her occupied stomach. "And what would that be, Sadrina?"
The woman beamed at him, obviously proud of herself. "Damien. We will name him Damien."