[Dreaming Lady] Welcome to Your Nightmare [Kovac]

[Chemar Tisserand]

Timestamp: 18th Day of Spring, 511 AV Kovac The light from a long bank of candles reached out to illuminate the staggered line of beads woven into Chemar's long hair as she relaxed before her next session. Her head rested against the wall and long eyelashes seemed to weigh on her lids until they were forced to close. She was relaxed, her breath even and languorous as she tried to prepare, this work could be taxing to say the least, and with a new client she had no idea what to expect. Solas hovered close, doing her work as she hummed softly. "Kovac, was it?" She asked the girl, opening one eye half way to view her response. Solas glanced at a leather bound book that lay on the desk at her side, her finger tracing an invisible line that spanned the width of the book. She nodded and spoke in a confident tone. "Indeed, Kovac it is." Chemar's eye closed once more and she listened as Solas returned to her humming. Kovac. She mouthed the name, then again, searching her mind for any memory of him. When she was met with a blank canvas, so to speak, she drew a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap. Over the next several minutes Chemar sat quietly, and with a clarity that would rival reality, she created an image of the world outside the Dreaming Lady. The images became more and more specific the longer she worked at it, the details she saw each and every day filling in like puzzle pieces falling into place. When the picture was complete in her mind she walked her creation casually, pausing to look upon each soul she passed. Her gold ringed eyes studied the faces, still working in combination with her memory to find that one face. Her version of research took her from the Dreaming Lady, to the Eagle Aeries, to the Communal Kitchens, looking carefully in each location she visited. Finally, she saw a man, his carriage was familiar but only in a passing way. She had seen him before but never spoken, luckily, her mind was a trap for details, once caught, they were ever present. When he turned the image of his face snapped into her memory and she spoke aloud the name once more. "Kovac." Taking the time, she watched him, never interacting, but simply observing to gain some sense of the man who would next walk through the door to meet her. Solas paused when she heard Chemar speak, stopping her movement as she looked over her shoulder. "Found him, did you?" Heavy lids lifted, and Chemar looked at the girl with a light smirk on her face, no other response was needed beyond that smile.

[Kovac]

The warm bath had soothed the jittery Avora somewhat, but the prospect of his pending appointment still left a nervous trill in Kovac's gut. The nightmares had become progressively worse over the past six days, seeming to have begun the night after his first ride on Turiska. They tormented his sleep. leaving him restless and exhausted through the day. The curious thing was, he could never remember them, even if he tried to recall them immediately after awakening. Last night they were so bad Shayth had to slap him repeatedly to waken him, his mournful cries stirring her from her own sleep. The Endal had insisted he schedule a visit to the Dreaming Lady, with hope of finding a resolution to the suddenly appearing dreams. He had hemhawed about it, unwilling to have some stranger probing his subconscious, or whatever they did down there. Finally Shayth had taken it upon herself to make the appointment, and before she and Turiska left the aerie, the redhead had threatened his manhood if he did not make the meeting. So, reluctantly, Kovac dried off, tugged on a clean bryda and donned his low boots. Sliding his single sontav on his left arm, he shoved a sheathed knife through his belt and smoothed down his hair. Unlike most inarta, the half-breed wore no glass beads or baubles. Since Kalle's betrayal, the archer had removed all glasswork from his clothes, the glassblower's betrayal souring his taste for such things. Making his way from the aerie, Kovac felt the familiar warming of the air on his bare chest as he worked his way further down and into Mount Skyinarta. He knew where the Dreaming Lady was, having passed in many times. But he had never entered the spa. The Avora wallowed in too much self-loathing to avail himself to the luxury of a massage or the more attentive healing that the Lady afforded. Pausing before the entrance, Kovac inhaled deeply, then exhaled, trying to settle his nerves. Then he entered. Immediately he was enshrouded in a light, scented mist that seemed to permeate and warm his skin. Soft light emanated from candles and amber colored insets in the ceiling, casting an inviting glow over the room. The floor was strewn with plush rugs and pillows. It truly was a place to be pampered. Some would have found it appealing and disarming. Kovac found it a bit uncomfortable, yet quite sensual. The Avora shifted his gaze between the three women in the room, knowing two were the Tisserand sisters. He had seen the one at recent festivals, clinging shamelessly to Amon if he recalled. The other two women, he was not sure if he had ever seen before. Kovac cleared his throat and spoke up, his voice seeming to disturb the serenity of the chamber. "I am Kovac, I uh, think I have an appointment."

[Chemar Tisserand]

The moment the latch clicked on the outer door Chemar watched, through a spying sliver she began to size up her client. His gaze upon her was subtly dismissive, and after his attention was drawn to Solas the corner of her mouth lifted just a bit. She didn't move immediately, letting her manager do what she did best. The bright and endearing, Solas moved toward Kovac with her hand extended. "Welcome to the Dreaming Lady, sir. My name is Solas Garde, I can take care of anything you might need beyond your appointment, a massage, a soak, please just let me know how I can make your visit better." She smiled, shook his hand and led him to Chemar. "This is the lady Chemar, She will be taking things from here." She gave Kovac a small bow of her head, and Chemar, a look that screamed behave. Slowly and deliberately, Chemar uncurled herself from the window seat to stand in front of Kovac, her gold ringed eyes greeting him with amusement. She looked at the tension in his body, and the straight line of his mouth, impressed that they remained even after begin greeted by the lovely Solas. Stubborn. Hmmm. After taking a deep breath she finally spoke. "You're stretched tighter than a bowstring, whoever forced you to come here must be important to you." Her mouth turned up into a smile, sincerely trying to make him more relaxed, if only to make her job easier. Without invitation or ceremony, she took his hand and began leading him to the dreaming chambers. "As Solas said, I'm Chemar. I'll be walking with you today, but you will need to find some state of relaxation or it will be very bad for both of us." With a look over her shoulder, she caught his gaze to confirm the weight of her words. "I can try to help you once we are settled, but the lion's share is in your hands." They stepped into the hallway and the light began to dwindle. As an after thought, she glanced at their linked hands and offered a casual explanation. "We lose the light quickly as we enter the tunnel, I've found it easier to lead people because my eyes are accustomed. Breath deeply, it will help you relax." When it came to this, she was as businesslike as she could be, finding that even more than through coddling and comfort, people were relaxed by a sense of confidence, especially if you planned on walking through their subconscious at will. The tunnel was always a magical experiences for Chemar; The slow shrugging off of the light as the mountain took them in, giving its captives tiny threads of light to lead them. It was extraordinary and never failed to enchant Chemar. "It beautiful, don't you think?" As their journey continued deeper into the mountain, she lifted her fingertip to trace one of the veins she had memorized, it split and rejoined over and over nearly the full length of the hallway, and in some odd way, she was encouraged that it always managed to find itself again. Somehow her mind always made the jump, that her one weaving vein proved that those lost, can always be found, it was one of the truly innocent jewels that still remained in Chemar's outlook. When they reached the dreaming chambers, she paused, picking the one she thought suited her client the best. "I will do my best to lead you to some answers.. whether or not, you were the one seeking them." She turned t Kovac, knowing that until his eyes adjusted, the only detail of her face that would be visible to him would be the shocking glow of the gold rings around her pupils. She stood like this for several moments, allowing him to find some comfort, however tenuous, in these foreign surroundings.

[Kovac]

As he hesitantly shook Solas' hand, Kovac was a bit surprised at her sincere welcome and professional offer. Few were those who showed him any kindness or deference, not that he inspired any. If it were not for the required respect from the lower classes, he would not expect or care, to receive any congeniality from the masses. Since the moment he entered the Dreaming Lady, the Avora was affected. The faint scent of something pleasing lingered in the air, yet Kovac could not identify it. The soothing aroma caressed his senses and seemed to reach into his muscles and tissue. No hint of a chill touched him, and the bare skin of his chiseled torso and arms felt enveloped in the air's warm, moist embrace. Dim lighting, colored glass, comfortable inviting furnishings, all designed effectively to put one at ease. But as he clasped the hand of the lovely young woman, and she spoke her tempting offer of personal, but professional, ministrations, Kovac found himself experiencing a new tension. He remained on guard, determined to behave in spite of the sensual surroundings. He simply nodded at Solas, and allowed himself to be lead to the next woman. She rose from the seat with an unhurried motion, Kovac comparing her movement to that of a cat. Yes, it was Chemar, the one he had seen at the festivals. He remembered that she was attractive and tall for an Inarta woman, but her eyes were what were startlingly memorable. They were as green as his own, but ringed with a vibrant golden hue. The archer felt a bit on display as she obviously examined him from head to toe. He was impressed that the woman could gauge his physical state from simple observation, if a bit put off with the fact she somehow knew Shayth had coerced him to come to seek help. There was little time for him to retort, for Chemar took him by the hand again (what was with these women and the hand holding?), and lead him down one of the hallways. The experience was unbalancing, the contradiction of being led by the hand down a darkening hall by a beautiful woman, yet hearing her speak to him professionally about probing his most personal dreams indeed made it difficult to relax. But Kovac heeded her advice, and as the corridor grew dark, he inhaled deeply of the rich air. It did help his breathing to deepen, feeling as if his lungs were expanding to drink in the unique atmosphere. As they walked deeper into the mountain, Kovac could see the luminous veins that ran along the walls of the dark hallway, helping him to find some orientation to maintain his balance and ease his mind a bit. The close reverberation of their footsteps vanished as Kovac sensed their entrance into a larger room. A myriad of faint, colored lights adorned the stony walls and ceiling, making the chamber appear surreal. Building on that curious feeling was the dim outline of Chemar, her brilliant-rimmed eyes providing him some solace. She exuded a confidence and benevolent authority that worked to shed Kovac's natural mistrust. The elemental scent of earth and magma now drifted around him. Kovac inhaled again, unable to resist the serenity that flooded his senses; sight, smell, touch and the sound of Chemar's reassuring voice. Tension began to leave his body, yet a deep tightness remained, and he strove to ignore the more primal impressions that the softly lit room, inviting mattress and mysterious woman conjured up. "Yes," he muttered, a bit unsteadily. "It is really something..." how to say it without saying it, "...inviting." That wasn't what he wanted to say...it is what he thought, but certainly not what he wanted to say out loud. He fumbled some more words. "I mean, it is very...uh, relaxing." Kovac paused. Had Shayth seen him at that moment, she would have been rolling on the floor laughing at him. But Kovac wanted to sound sincere. "I will try to, well, make it easy for you." Everything he said sounded wrong, at least to him. He grinned wryly, wondering if she could see him struggling. "Um, what am I supposed to do?"

[Chemar Tisserand]

Chemar listened and watched as Kovac eroded from the tightly-strung, patronizing fellow who had no use for her life's work when he stepped into her shop, into this tongue-tied version of himself who could barely speak without his words betraying his wonder of this place, and who clearly could not stop thinking of the intimate possibilities the situation presented.This was going to be fun. The thought popped into her head before she could stop it, thanks to the effects of the mountain, but it was rare for her anticipation of a walk to be anything other than multiple choice guess at what horrors would present themselves. This Avora however, seemed too stubborn, and clearly, too sexual to bypass his natural instincts on the way to his nightmare. Even if it was simply a stop along the way, a different manner of tension would be a welcome change to her. Concentrate Chemar... A familiar voice, not her own, but that of Solas chimed in her head and she envisioned the warning glare she'd received from her before they began down the hall. Had it not been for Solas' influence after the death of her father, Chemar would be far more...playful, for lack of a better word, with the lives of her clients, but as it was, Solas had become an echo of her father's guiding voice, keeping her true nature from arising when she conducted business. For a moment, she released Kovac's hand and gathered her hair into a long tail that sat at the back of her head. With one hand, she slowly pulled a beautiful orange scarf from its hiding place, tucked into the side of her vinati. Kovac would only see the movement of her outline at this point. She knew how long it took for the eyes to really adjust, but anything she could do to fuel his emotions and set his attitude off kilter, would allow her more freedom once they walked. She let a small sigh escape her mouth as the soft fabric whispered across the bare skin of her stomach, then she secured her hair with it, leaving long tails of red, orange and chiming glass to fall down her back. With clear, hawk-like eyes, she studied his response as she continued to do things to take away that control he seemed to still cling to. She enjoyed this part, the ability of the mountain to strip away reservation and hesitation, leaving a soul vulnerable to experience beyond the scope of their own imagination. Deep inside, she always hoped that this transformation was due somewhat to her influence, but she could never be sure when the mountain's effects were so saturating. A look at his face showed that his eyes were adjusting, and while she did enjoy seeing him twist nervously like a piece of ribbon in a strong breeze, she would move their appointment along. Her way, of course Finding his hand once more, she led him to the pallet. "All you need do, is lie down, here." She lifted her hands, barely resting them on his shoulders as she guided him to the pallet. As he moved, following her direction quite obediently, a hint of a smile curled her mouth. She gave him a gentle push forward intentionally letting the tips of her fingers ride down along his shoulder blades until her touch left his skin. "Make yourself comfortable. You will be there, and I will sit here." She moved to the wall, gracefully folding into a compacted version herself as she took a spot on the floor, her back resting against the mountain wall. The spot she'd chosen, was in fact, the brightest in the darkened room, it was the convergence of seven or eight luminescent veins, and gave her a glowing outline that was made more ethereal by the reflecting glass woven into her hair and clothes. For a brief moment, she allowed herself the luxury of looking him over as he tried to get comfortable. His appearance was atypical for an Inarta...there must be other blood in his veins, she studied him, looking for a clue that would betray his the mixture of his blood. He was certainly appealing, in a very visceral way, a stomach tightening, lip biting way. This job does have its appeal, she thought to herself as her eyes drifted over the flat plane of his stomach. With some effort, she pulled her eyes away, actually closing them to remove the allure. In the study of him, she thought of a question, thinking it might be the final thing to set him off his game. When she heard him go still, she spoke quietly, "Close your eyes, and continue to breath deeply. I will be here if you have questions, or need anything, but it will not take long with silence and the mountain, soon you will sleep, as well, I will be with you there. Just know that nothing you experience on our walk can follow you into your waking life, so there is no reason to carry fear." She paused, hearing his breathing slow, and deepen, one moment longer...she could tell now by the sound and depth of the breath exactly when the mountain would claim a person, and she usually provided a thought they could carry with them to begin. When she heard that rhythm, she spoke again, pulling away from the wall to whisper in his ear. "Was your mother the Vantha..?"

[Kovac]

Kovac sought to relax, to make sense of what was happening, but Chemar continued to confound his efforts. The dreamwalker lead him into an environment that assailed his senses in strange and wonderful ways, lights and scents and the sound of her voice. Chemar's own casual and tactile interaction only enhanced the sensations that sang within him, leaving the archer almost disoriented. His vision had adjusted only enough to see her outline, a sultry silhouette against the faint glow of the luminous veins in the rocky walls. The Avora's gaze fixed upon her as he heard her sigh, watched as she produced the scarf and with lithe movement raised it to bind her hair. All the while her gold-rimmed eyes remained on him. Did she do that intentionally? Or was it simply his overactive libido reading into her motion? Kovac's breathing increased ever so slightly, matching his rising pulse. Surely this was not going to go where his mind had already wandered. This was a professional appointment. Chemar indeed had him off-balance. As she drew closer, the archer's adapting eyes could make out Chemar's attractive features, always dominated by her drawing gaze. He felt her soft hand fold into his again, allowing himself to be lead to the pallet. He looked down at the mattress and back at her. He had assumed it would go something like this, he knew he had to sleep for Chemar to work her talents. He just didn't expect it to be so...sensual. But the mountain's fumes were already working on his system, and despite his confusion and arousal, he silently allowed himself to be coerced to the pallet with the woman's light, exhilarating touch on his shoulders. Reclining on the comfortable mattress, Kovac allowed his body to sink into the thick cushions. He watched as Chemar took her seat against the wall. The aura-like glow of the rock behind her, cast through the colored glass in her hair only added to the surreal quality of the dreaming room. With some effort he turned his eyes away and laid his head back on the fluffy pillow. His green eyes stared at the ceiling, marveling at the points and streaks of glowing colors adorning the stone above him. Instinctively his breathing grew deeper, inhaling more of the curious gases permeating the room. His mind stilled in its frantic effort to control and make sense of his surroundings, his more primal urgings diminishing to a simmer. Heavy lidded eyes slid shut. The sound of Chemar's voice, sounding nearer than he knew she was, hummed pleasant and reassuring in his ears, and Kovac saw her in his mind's eye as her soothing tone filled the room. He found her image difficult to expel, the touch of her hands, the sound of her sigh still fresh in his memory. The Avora began to succumb, his mind drifting to images and sounds that were strangely juxtapositioned yet seemingly plausible. Stony walls and volcanic air gave way to snow, blinding snow and howling wind. Through a distant echo he heard Chemar's last question...yes, his mother was Vanthan... Winter, deep winter, and a snow storm of great ferocity. Kovac found himself clad only in a bryda, yet he felt no chill on his skin. The wind whipped around him, yet not a hair on his head stirred. Ahead stood a woman, bundled in a fur coat similar to the Inarta's winter gear, but not exactly. She was beautiful, olive-skinned with black hair that shimmered with gold and red streaks, her eyes a vibrant violet with golden swirls. Even in the blinding snow her features were as sharp and clear as if the summer sun shone upon her. She smiled sweetly, lovingly, as if she found great pride in the man looking at her. Though he had never seen her before, Kovac knew it was his mother. The man felt her affection and a longing to be held by her. His had reached out, but as he strove to take a step towards her, he found he was unable. Then the ground shook with great force. Kovac strove to remain standing. The snow-covered earth buckled around him. Behind him a rift opened up, a blast of heat billowing out of a dark crevice that widened like a gaping maw. A murderous scream cut through the howl of wind and rumble of quaking earth. Looking up, Kovac saw the woman's benevolent face twisted dark and malicious, her eyes narrowed and burning orange. A bow of iron appeared in her hands. Though the earth shuddered violently, the woman's feet stood unmoved, her aim steady on him. The archer's hand flew up outstretched in a plea to stay the attack. "No!" he hollered. But with a quick flick she released a barb-headed arrow at him, sending flying through the blizzard to thud into his shoulder. Though Kovac felt the impact, the Avora did not feel the searing pain he expected. Yet the force of the missile drove him backwards. The half-breed teetering on his heels upon on the crack's edge, his arms flailing to find balance. A gust of wind blasted against him, and Kovac tumbled back into the hole.

[Chemar Tisserand]

Like a fiery jewel placed on a blanket of white, Chemar sat, dressed in her bryda and vinati of brilliant orange, red and gold. As still as a statue, she watched, the only betrayal of movement being sparkling embers of glass nestled in the halo of ribboned red hair that seemed to swim in slow motion around her striking face. Her body was curled over crossed legs, bare elbows sunk in a soft bed of snow and her chin cradled in her cupped hands, it was there she sat watching. The sparse movement of her resting form was only half that of the scene unfolding until she straightened her back into sitting. At that moment, she became the sprite amidst a world of lumbering giants, her movements still paced for her comfort, but with speed enough, in comparison, to alter whatever she chose. The resemblance between Kovac and the woman was obvious. Mother, dear... The dreamwalker did not interfere, even as the transformation took place and a mother loosed an arrow at her beloved son. It was only when the impact sent him plummeting toward a cauldron of flame and searing heat that she walked toward the lip of the crevice. With minimal effort, she reached the edge, just as he was driven back. Her graceful hand reached out, and long fingers curled around the shaft of the arrow, staying his fall. In perfect synchronization with her hand touching the arrow and stepping into the nightmare, her hair dropped into stillness around her shoulders and her body lost the feeling of radiated energy. Kovac's eyes grew even more horrified as he saw her. You knew I'd be here. Remember. Her lips did not move as she spoke, but her words chimed softly in his head. Chimes. She locked eyes with him. Listen.. The soft chiming of glass was distant at first, it grew louder as each piece of glass collided with another until the crystalline sound drowned out the howling wind. Chemar spun away from Kovac, leaving him precariously perched in mid tumble, hanging there like the last leaf on a tree, caught in desperate limbo. Hanging from a ceiling that was not visible were thousands of threaded strings of glass, she walked through them, arms outstretched, creating a cacophony of sound echoing in a room that had no walls. The noise should have comforted, as it had when it began, but it was dissonant, filled with conflict and harsh discord. When she reached the center she turned back to Kovac, the tendrils of glass seemed to cling the her skin like they were her pets, each one vying for her attention by threading into her hair and curling snake-like around her limbs. She didn't like you very much, did she? She cocked her head to allow a crystal serpent to caress her cheek, the gold rings in Chemar's eyes began to glow. Come here. The dissonant racket had subsided, going silent now that their mistress was present. If anything had been holding Kovac in place, it was no longer, and he stood with ease to walk to Chemar, the arrow still protruding angrily from his chest. Though the clinging glass ropes were disconcerting in their animation, everything else about Chemar, her voice, her lightly curled lips, her lithe body, all beckoned to him. Upon reaching her, Chemar took the last step to close the distance, lifting her hand to rest on the arrow. His movements had caught up with hers, and they moved now in matching speed. Shall we see to this? She glanced at the arrow in her hand. He had yet to speak, replying with a mute nod of his head. She leaned very close, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her mouth. She whispered aloud this time, her words slipping from her lips almost immediately into his."You may speak. Kovac." She blew a soft breath into his mouth, it passed as a plume of copper colored smoke, and he felt the lick of a flame made of both fire and ice, searing his throat even as it was cooled. The first breath of his dream filled his lungs and he inhaled a torrent of he breath. He grasped out at her shoulders roughly trying to catch her, craving more of the icy fire and trying to steal it from her lips. It was then she withdrew, wearing a wicked smile as she moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, she shook her head side to side and his desire began to shift to fear. When he moved toward her, even though it was scant inches, the chiming snakes that had wrapped her in their clinging coils lashed out at him. In the beat of a heart, he was restrained, not by the smooth beaded ropes that had held Chemar, but by long strands of jagged glass, that drove into his skin, shredding the spots that they touched. Unlike the arrows sting, he felt every slice of glass, every time a razored edge drove into his skin, it was a new source if searing pain and his skin was left slick with blood. He tried to scream, but had no voice. Breath she had offered had been withdrawn when he became greedy. She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. "Such a greedy man. Always wanting more than you have earned. Do not fight them, you will not win. " She glanced at the razor-like ropes."Relax, and I will see to that arrow." When his body released some of it's tension, the ropes began to fall away, taking with them any sign of injury. Looking down, he was exactly as he had been, unmarred, save the arrow in his chest, but the pain reminded, without source, and now in the form of a dull ache and sensitivity. "At least you are obedient." She reached to her waist, slowly untying a long scarf that was cinched there. With a slow, deliberate movement, she gathered her hair in a long tail and secured it with the scarf, watching his eyes for any flash of recognition, there was none, only a renewed hunger and a slight hitch in his breathing. Your waking life is gone. She thought to herself. I hope you are prepared for this...

[Kovac]

Horror had seized upon Kovac. Why, why would his mother do this? She should run to him, hold him. She never had a chance to hold her infant son, for his birth had taken her life. Why now would she not choose to show him the mother's love he never knew? She wanted him dead, maybe because he had killed her. Kovac could feel gravity clutching at him, pulling him back over the edge of the precipice. Though he could not feel the frigid cold of the blizzard that raged around him, he could feel the searing heat of the abyss at his back. As he teetered over, the form of his mother vanished in the swirl of opaque snow, and another female came into view. Chemar. His eyes widened, shocked at the inarta's sudden appearance. Even more confounding was the fact that she now held him hanging precariously over the pit by the arrow that pierced his torso. There was no pondering how the small woman could hold his weight, nor why the arrow did not rip from his flesh. His focus had centered on the mysterious woman. She was as beautiful and confident as he remembered her, but an air of malevolence glinted in her gold rimmed eyes, something that whispered fear into his soul, more so than the fiery crevice he hovered above. The avora had almost lost his perception, unsure if he were dreaming or not, accepting what he saw as plausible reality. Chemar spoke, but didn't. He stared into her eyes, and heard as if the penetrating green orbs were speaking to him. Yes, he supposed she should be there, but now he worried, for her presence was both intoxicating and unnerving. upon her command, his ears attuned to the tinkling of the glass, and his eyes widened as the dreamwalker released the arrow and turned away. Kovac's heart skipped a beat, sure that he was going to plummet downward. But he remained suspended, neither falling nor able to rise to balance on his feet. So with trembling heart the man watched the woman as she walked away, the dissonant sound of the clanking glass becoming almost menacing. He felt his heart pound as the tentacles of glass caressed and curled around Chemar like serpents. What was she? Dangerous, Kovac thought. He heard within himself her comment about his mother, and he mustered a thought in response. He wanted to speak, to tell the woman that his mother never knew him. But it was of no concern to the one who had comandeered his dream. Her next command rang clear in his mind, 'Come here'. The borders of her irises shone like torches as she summoned him to her. The archer felt the unseen restraint lift, and he found himself on his feet, firmly planted on the ground. Gone was the wind, the snow, the torment of the clanging glass. All there was left was Chemar, and her doting glass tendrils that slid along her limbs, entwined in her hair, caressed her cheek. The woman exuded sensuality, her posture was seductive without effort, as if she were created to lure a man without thought. Kovac suddenly envied the crystal vines, wanting to touch the smooth flesh of the woman, to feel the softness of her dark crimson hair. But there was an undertow in the unwalled room, something menacing that put Kovac on edge. It was undefined and difficult to pinpoint. The ill-feeling, however, could not keep the man from obeying the woman's command, and he moved towards her, unwilling to resist. Chemar met him, her presence palpably thrilling. His need for her spiked as her mouth hovered so near his, and though he longed to close the minute space between their lips, he did not. The bluster of the wind had not touched his flesh, the breath of the woman did. He inhaled it instinctively, eyes widening in surprise as the searing air entered his throat and lungs, the hushed words she uttered reaching his ears. Her breath was like life, and he wanted more, wanted to seal his lips on hers and drawn more of her into him. He reached for Chemar, desperate for more. "More," was all he could breathe huskily. But he was denied, and the tormenting woman withdrew, a chillingly malevolent grin on her moistened lips. Kovac had to have her, he lunged forward, but sharp, intense pain dispersed across his body as the dreamwalker's devoted glass minions assaulted him. To his horror, the smooth glass tendrils had become shards of razor sharp glass, entwining his limbs with lacerating grip. The avora gasped in pain, feeling every slice of his skin, every deep gouge dug into his flesh. He wanted to cry out in terror and agony, only then realizing she had stolen back the breath she had given him. Every attempt to free himself, every breath he tried but could not take, shot vivid streams of pain through his body. Rivulets of dripping blood tickled his skin as it ran from the multitude of wounds inflicted upon him, running in rusty dark crisscross patterns over his bare arms and torso. He was beginning to panic, losing all awareness of any reality but this, the pain, the wicked temptress that seemed to mock him. Then she spoke and he obeyed. Kovac's struggling ceased, and the wretched torturous tentacles retreated. The distraction of the deep wounds vanished, leaving on a dull ache as a reminder, Kovac looked at Chemar. What have you done? Why have you given yourself over to her? What will she do to you? a distant self questioned him, too little, and too late. She came near again. The familiar gesture, the pulling of the scarf and tying of the hair, registered no where in his memory. The Chemar of Wind Reach was no more. This twisted, siren Chemar was all that existed for the man, source of pain and humiliation, and obsession. He hated her and needed her, wanted to flee in fear, and needed to do whatever he had to to get at her, to have a taste again of her breath, and more. His body was alive with hunger and sensation, he embraced the pain left in his body, for he knew it was from her. All he was now was sustained by the woman. The voice, more distant than ever, echoed in his mind. What have you become?

[Chemar Tisserand]

Contrary to how she appeared, the overwhelming excitement began twisting in Chemar's stomach, sending a finger of energy creeping up the valley of her back. Slowly, against his will and judgment, she watched as Kovac's resolution eroded. Layer by layer he became more a part of his dream, and she watched, captivated, her head cocked to one side. The duress played on his face like a changing of masks, switching between the tension of resistance to the euphoria of submission and back again, until submission and pliability won out. He was a stubborn one. Slowly, so as not to break the rope of tension stretched between her and Kovac, Chemar lifted her arms from her hips and began moving them in sweeping circles by her sides, gathering as many of the sparkling tendrils as possible. For a brief moment, she looked like a girl on a swing, the gentle curve of her lips still offering her face innocence. When she had gathered more than her hands could hold, she closed her fingers around them and with a concerted effort pulled them to the floor in a swift jerk. Using her pets as the lynch pin, Chemar loosed something unseen from overhead and shivers of excitement crept over her pale skin. The world changed. Blackness descended from above with the jerk of her hands, a torrent of darkness that engulfed them until it was so thick that Kovac would swear that he'd gone blind. It was immediate, this saturation of premature night, not slow and drawn out, but like blood exploding from killing wound. It offered Kovac only a fleeting glimpse of Chemar's expression before taking away his sight. Her face had grown hungered and demanding of his gaze. Along with the shrouding blackness, somehow, the dreamwalker had managed to eradicate every sound of life. They existed now in a vacuum, a void, free of any sound or sight aside from the inky black that smothered them. Chemar closed her eyes, released the glass tendrils that still clung to her hands and began to move toward Kovac. There was no sound to her movement, and when she placed her palm against his chest, she felt all the muscles beneath it jump and tighten. His heart pounded against her palm, sending reverberations through the length of her delicate arm. With movements that lacked urgency, she took another step closer, her hand remaining as it had been. The tightened muscles seemed to tremble with tension, making the hairs on the back of her neck rise in response. This one was not ready for speech, perhaps a test... With her free hand, she found his wrist; her fingers encircled it as she brought it slowly to her throat. A small lift of her chin offered full access to her long neck and it was there she pressed his hand, poised so that the pulse in her neck echoed against his palm. Strong fingers curled around her throat, but only to press more skin to skin, there was no malice behind it. If he chose to, the Avora could crush her throat with no more than a quick pulse of his hand. Would he? Trying to move beyond the sensation of Kovac's hand nearly enclosed around her neck was a challenge; with any other client, she would have placed the hand over her heart to offer up the stronger beat, but this one was more physical...untamed, and she may not choose to resist him. As fond as she was of being the siren that leads men into their worst nightmares, there were those occasions that she opted for 'attainable'.. rather than the alternative. Not this time, Chemar... She pressed his hand harder against her own neck, driving the pulse into him. Feel it. Her head fell back as the rhythmic pounding began in her ears, the pulse beneath her other hand seemed at odds with her own. An opposing rhythm. She increased the pressure of Kovac's hand, feeling her skin start to bruise from the tightening grip, her heart crashed against the wall of her chest, forcing the rush of blood to her ears until the low beat began to sound in the room. It broke through the silence with startling clarity, and Kovac's grip tightened further. Dropping her hand away, she stood immobile, almost having to gasp for breath. Her heartbeat grew louder in the darkness until it became deafening. Very soon his heartbeat altered, slowly beginning to match the rhythm of the room until it was absorbed into the sound. Much better. Her confidence was magnified by the addition of Kovac's heartbeat to her own and she stepped closer, as close as the arrow shaft would allow. The golden rings of her eyes began to glow softly, magically illuminating the small space between the dreamwalker and her...client. His hand still held her fragile neck like a vice and as Chemar looked into his eyes she was greeted with a mixture of growing fear, unbridled desire and something more..."Do you wish to end me, Kovac?" Her voice was such a contrast to the booming of their heartbeats that even Chemar was a little surprised. She goaded him, trying to push him to action. "Just a little harder and you will have your release." Against the pressure of his hand, she lifted her cheek to rest along his, the next words she spoke threaded into his ear and joined his wild thoughts. "Show me what kind of animal you are, do it. It's all you can think about." Her demand was still connected to her lips as her fingers spread wide over his chest, offering yet another point of distraction. Long nails began to curl, etching a series of pale red lines in his skin, but did he even notice? The steady pounding still rang in the room, filling it with so much sound it shook them both; the inside had become the outside and surrounded them. Chemar waited for Kovac's response to her question. The rhythm of the beating egged her on to keep going, he is taking too long. She thought to herself even though the span of time had only been seconds. "Release me." There was no arguing with the voice that emerged. It was low and final in its request. Kovac's hand fell away without argument and she stepped back. Something seemed to be holding her close at the last moment, but a surge of momentum and she opened a gap between them. Added to the driving beat was a strange sound of wet suction, when it released, the beating immediately muted, all but disappearing into the sound of one heart beating. A long graceful hand reached to her throat, rubbing softly over the bruised flesh, the other rested with an open palm turned upward and casually held Kovac's beating heart. Or was it, surely it was an illusion. The only source of light was glowing rings of her eyes. She could see the horror and confusion in Kovac's locked gaze, his hand flew to his chest, which she had left unmarred, missing one key piece, but unmarred. He was unsure, she could see it. He needed to be clear about what she'd taken. Her fingers closed around the heart forcing streams of blood to pour from it, was it blood? With a tight grip on her treasure she flung her arm in and ark to her right and then once more to her left, catapulting ribbons of the bleeding liquid from Kovac's heart. She looked to both sides, admiring her own handiwork before returning her gaze to the Avora, still frozen with disbelief in the same spot. Mirroring the veins the lead them to this dream, the ribbons clung to the walls, there were walls,, like dripping blood that defied gravity, the ribbons came to life and began spreading over the walls in thin lines, each one glowing a different caste of red, the room began to fill with the muted crimson light, until all details snapped into clarity. "Much better." The smile she wore was at once beguiling and disconcerting, how could she be so calm with the trails of blood making a twisted map along her arm?

[Kovac]

Kovac had released himself from reality, all that he was intent solely on Chemar, and what she would do next. There was nowhere to flee, for nothing seemed to exist but the inarta and her glassy minions. It was with some anxiety that the half-breed watched his tormentor gather her strands, though the unassuming smile on her face betrayed no hint of mischief. That was until she suddenly yanked on the strands, and a flash of an image was sealed on his retina's before all went black. Chemar's visage darkened with need, need of something from him. But then the blackness overtook him. Thick and utterly smothering, the darkness left Kovac bereft of the sense he relied upon most. He quelled a desperate panic. He froze where he stood, his ears ringing in the absence of any other sound, his eyes straining to focus on the dancing phantoms left in his vision as they were robbed of all light. Anxiety sent his heart into a quick, pounding pace. He could not hear himself breath, coud not see his own flesh. Hysteria threatened to overtake the man when a startling contact made him flinch. Kovac knew it was Chemar's hand, but her unexpected touch caused the muscles of his torso to tighten and sent an electric zing through his body, the sense of touch stronger as his other senses were useless. She was there...and she could see him. He knew it. A delicate hand wrapped around his wrist and lfited it until he felt the soft flesh of her neck within his grasp. He instinctively wrapped his fingers around her throat, not tightly. He did not wonder why Chemar would place herself in such a vulnerable position. Kovac's focus had narrowed to what he could feel, her neck in her grip. Her skin was warm and smooth, as he had imagined the rest of her would be. Against the skin of his palm, Kovac felt the thrum of her pulse. He noted its rhythm, but his own beating heart made an unnerving dissonance. His mind, void of any other stimuli, became enthralled with the steady thump of Chemar's blood, imagining it as it pumped through the vessel just below the surface. Then she pressed his hand harder against her. Kovac's fingers felt the firmness of the muscles of her neck, his thumb telling the ridges of her throat. He liked it. He liked having a hold on her, feeling her life's blood strive to continue pumping as his grip tightened. And she wanted it, she pushed into his grasp. Just a flinch, just a squeeze would do it. Kovac could crush her windpipe, shut off the flow of blood to her brain, It thrilled him to think of her gurgling, her pale face turning blue. But she would cheat him of that, she had stolen his sight and his hearing. His grip tightened slightly. Then he heard it...the pounding. Her hand slipped from his chest. The room filled with the thumping, and soon he felt the reverbration in his chest change. Louder. It had come to surround him as much as the deafening silence, and he knew, felt, his own heart beating in sync with the sound, and the feel of her heartbeat crushed against his hand. She had forced her own heart's rhythm on his. Closer, she pressed closer. And the rings, the golden rings that had captivated his attention even in the real world reappeared. But as they illuminated the space between the man and woman, they were beautiful and terrifying. She showed no fear, just a taunting, seductive glare. Yes he was afraid, even as he held her life in his clutches, she still held the reins. The pounding within the room was so loud it caused his gut to vibrate, yet he heard clearly every word the woman uttered. He could not speak, though he wanted to. His fingers twitched, the muscles in his hand poised to squeeze the life out of her, to enjoy some twisted sensual sastifaction from killing her with his bare hands. Kovac was undone, unable to think clearly. As her hand splayed across his bare chest, her nails drawing blood as she drew them across her skin, all the man felt was need. Need to have her, in every way, ways that startled even him, while at the same time wanting to end her, to gorge himself on the victory of rending the last breath from her, to see her fine breasts heave their last, those devilish, tempting eyes to go glassy in death. But, for all that he was...he was not an animal. So his hand held still, neither loosening, nor tightening further. Then came her command, whether of his own will or by some force, his hand dropped from Chemar's throat. Kovac saw her step back, yet felt a resistance to her withdraw. He heard the repulsive sucking sound that seemed to coincide with the the release of whatever held her to him. The throbbing waned. Then, in the eerie glow of the dreamwalker's eyes, Kovac looked at the mass held up in her hand. A heart. He freaked, clutching at his chest and finding no wound. Was it? Wasn't it? He wanted to yell, to cry out, to curse her. But his mouth would not even attempt to form words, nor his throat to release a noise. She gripped it, blood spilling out over her hand. He wanted to vomit. Not that it was repulsive, for he had seen far worse. But the thought that it was his was more than he could handle. Like a common sponge, she squeezed the heart and sprayed its crimson contents around the room, still darkened past the glow of her irises. In a beautfiul, gruesome display, the streaks of blood became luminous veins of crimson along the walls of the room, casting a red glow upon the man and woman. He coud see her clearly again. And she stood there, smiling. His blood, for he knew it was, dripped from her hand, running down her arm to spill off of her elbow. Kovac grimaced. His soul felt as if it were ripping itself apart. She was driving him mad. He wanted to cry out, to weep, to charge her and tear her apart, to be torn apart by her. He took a step towards her, then another. He looked at the arrow, then back to the eyes of his tormentor. Kovac closed the space between them. The man almost reeled, moving through a haze of fear and desire and confusion. Specks of his own spattered blood ran across his torso and up his face in a ruddy trail. Kovac looked in horror at his dark bloody organ clutched in her hand. She had broken his will and literally stole his heart. What more could she do to him? What would he not give up for her? Suddenly, Kovac felt a compulsion. His hand reached towards Chemar's, running his fingers over his bloody, soft heart and under the drops of his blood spilling from her hand. The viscous liquid was still warm. His gaze, intense but unfocused, lfited to the Inarta's glowing eyes. His crimson hand gently pressed against her cheek, smearing his own blood across her face. Leaving rusty streaks on her smooth skin, across her nose and up onto her forehead, Kovac finally ran two blood-covered fingers across her mouth, painting her lips a deep red. Then, after wiping the remaining blood in her long hair, Kovac stood back, his eyes seeming to focus now on the woman's gore painted features. In truth, he wondered what he was doing, if his actions were a condemnation of the dreamwalker as a bloody miscreant, or if he was offering a blood sacrifice to his object of disdain and obsession. The man's gut still twisted, carnal and primal, fear and desire all but smothering a more human response...defiance.