The Dreaming

[Kender Bard]

Drake Dreams

"Wake up, Dad!" Kura shouted as she shook Drake vigorously. Drake started awake, tense, but relaxed just as quickly when he heard Kura's gleeful voice. Instead, he turned over with a grunt. "C'mon, Daddy. Wake up!"

Drake's arm snaked out and hooked around Kura's waist, dragging her down on the bed. She squirmed and giggled as he hugged her sleepily, like an overactive teddy bear. "Sleep now," he murmured, not struggling as she slipped out from under his arm.

"Dad you have to get up now," Kura laughed, bouncing a bit as she sat on her knees. "You're being made the high priest!"

THAT was enough to get Drake's attention. He opened his eyes and sat up, looking around the room as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, as if expecting throngs of priests to be crowding his bedroom. He was more surprised to see that they weren't.

Kura seemed to divine his glance. "Mom and Daddy Adam are outside making sure nobody comes in and bothers you except me. So c'mon, get dressed!"

A grin starting to form, Drake rolled out of bed and snatched up a robe from the floor, changing into it. He used his fingers to comb his hair from completely unruly to merely messy.

Kura took his hand and stepped out of the bedroom with him. Sure enough, Dreamwarp and Adam (and Lysander) were doing their best to turn back the excited priests outside the room. Drake's grin widened at the sight.

"About time, lazy ass," Dreamwarp murmured as she turned to kiss him, taking his other hand. "Come on now. We need to get you sworn in or whatever the hell we're doing this time around."

The family was swept away by the tide of priests hastening them to their destination, though once at the main altar room, most of them had to stop and simply wait impatiently. Only senior priests were permitted to continue on.

The ceremony wasn't much. Evidently spartan was 'in' at the time. Drake had to swear a nonsensical oath to Soahc and they all had cake, which was perfectly fine with Drake. Once it was all done, he was given a scepter (that was new) to hold as a sign of his office. Drake admired the craftsmanship and the heft of the item. It'd make a fantastic club.

As servants swept away the dishes from the cake party, the former high priest announced, "Now we shall all give our high priest a moment of reflection and prayer."

"Yawn," Dreamwarp sighed but hooked her arm in Adam's, pulling him with as she went to give Drake a long and lingering kiss. "Well, have fun meditating."

"I can think of better ways of getting Soahc's attention," Drake murmured as he put his arms around her for another kiss.

Adam pat his brother soundly on the back. "Maybe later! For now, though, just know how proud we are of you."

"This has been a long time coming," Dreamwarp agreed, obliging Drake with another kiss before pulling away. "We'll get the party warmed up for you." She winked and then sauntered off. Soon, Drake was alone in the altar room.

Great, how am I going to pass the time now? Drake wondered with a sigh as he went and sat on the altar. It was plain stone, very heavy, but worn and smooth from countless other bodies doing a variety of different things on it through the many, many years. Still, he found his thoughts wandering. He was in charge! After watching his wife and brother have their chance at rulership, it felt good to know that he finally got to join them.

"It's been hard being forced into second place against your twin, hasn't it?" a voice remarked behind him.

Drake jumped up off the altar, spinning around and lifting up his scepter, ready to put it to use. His arm drooped down at the familiar face before him. "Soahc," he greeted. He felt he should probably bow but, well, you can only run into a Force so many times before it starts becoming more familiar than formal.

"Drake," Soahc greeted back, taking the seat that Drake had just vacated. "I'm right, aren't I?"

Drake scratched his cheek, not wanting to answer, but finally realized the futility of trying to avoid discussing something that his heart and mind felt. Soahc was probably just being rhetorical so Drake had best humor him. "Yeah."

"Well, to be fair, Adam has always been more... faithful than you," Soahc admitted. "Not necessarily better, but he believes with his whole heart. That makes him special." He beckoned and Drake warily moved closer. "But you're special too, Drake. Even if I focused a little more on your wife and brother, it doesn't mean I stopped watching you completely. I needed the two of them during a time of duress, but I need you for a time of peace. Peace is a terrible thing. People get complacent and boring." He took Drake's hand tightly between his own. "Can I trust in you to keep things interesting?"

Drake grinned, almost nastily. "Oh yeah. You know you can, my lord."

"Good," Soahc remarked, letting go. "Feel free to come up with some truly crazy mandates. I want to be entertained for the next year." Drake saluted dutifully. "And enjoy yourself. You and your family have earned a bit of a rest from danger and unfun mayhem. You keep me laughing in the heavens, and I'll keep a sheltering hand around your family."

Drake's grin grew wider, and more sincerely happy. "I promise." A blink, and Soahc was gone. Drake flexed the hand that his Force had held and paused as he felt something on his finger. Glancing down, his eyes widened. Slowly, he lifted up his hand and gazed at the ring of the Chosen that lay on his finger, a superficial match for his brother's, though his was a beautiful blood red color instead.

Beaming, he turned and ran for the doors out of the altar room. Meditation was over; it was time to join his family for celebration.

[Kender Bard]

Loki Dreams

Loki shielded his eyes against the sun as he climbed over a particularly difficult bit of mountain. He moved a few steps to the side, relaxing as the sun's unforgiving rays slid out of his eyes and afforded him a breathtaking view of Skyheort stretched below him. Feeling elation bubble up, he began his journey down towards his home city.

It had been a long two decades since he had been here. Having gotten his father's wanderlust, as soon as he had finished his schooling in the bardic college, Loki had taken his skills, what bit of money was his, some gear for traveling, and set out to see the world. He was a bit tamer in his wanderings than his father had been. Perhaps he had gained some of his mother's temperance. Whatever the case, Loki had been content to stick to traveling between villages and towns, cities and great capitals. He rarely went into the wilds or anywhere unknown or uncharted. What would be the point? Loki went where there were people, people who would enjoy his music and his stories.

And what stories! He'd met so many people, been through so much. Dancing with children in Ronduin to moonlit nights of peasant music, sitting at the feet of wizened Riven elders, hearing tales of the great lost Lacuna, gazing upon the majesty of the temple of the Earth Mother and hearing the hymns of her priests, and even a romantic entanglement, however brief, in the wild and chaotic Haven.

But he was home now. He wasn't sure if he would remain forever, but he knew it was time to rest a bit. Perhaps he would chronicle his journeys. If nothing else, he was growing more interested in reconnecting with his family. Didn't his sister have some children? It'd be good to meet them.

Loki smiled as he came back home.

[Kender Bard]

Crentha Dreams

Crentha yawned some of the residual morning grogginess away as she cracked some eggs over the hot skillet on the stove. The smells of breakfast rapidly began to fill the room, tickling her nose with delight. Soon after came the heavy thumps of running.

"Don't run," Crentha called out.

"Sorry, mommy," came the two young voices of her children. Crentha smiled anyway, turning and laying out the breakfast before them. Her son and daughter grinned and dug in with eagerness.

Her husband ambled in soon after, looking as groggy as she did. That was understandable; both had been rather preoccupied for much of the night prior. Crentha considered a bit of fatigue a small price to pay.

"Good morning, love," her husband greeted, leaning in and kissing her tenderly before going to their children to play with a bit.

"I need to get to the temple soon," she warned her family as she served her husband and slid into a chair to wolf down her own breakfast. "You two will behave for your father today, right?" she asked her children with a warning in her tone. She no longer remembered her mother's voice well enough to know if it was what Alethia had sounded like, but she liked to think so.

"Yes, mommy," the kids chorused with mischievous little smiles. Crentha rolled her eyes a bit; she knew that Whistle was going to have his hands full with the pair, no matter what they said. After all, they had Veatherfall blood in them. Mischief came as easily as breathing.

Breakfast downed, she gave them all a kiss farewell before dashing off to the temple. Once, long ago, it was a place where she went to drown her sorrows in faith. But since meeting her husband and the birth of her kids, she'd discovered that the best cure for sorrow was to just go on living.

[Kender Bard]

Arcan Dreams

Arcan crouched from his perch high up into the air. A cool wind blew, ruffling his hair and his black feathers, bringing to him the sharp, clean scent of the wastelands. All before him was dark red rock, dust and sand. The landscape was dotted in places by vegetation struggling to thrive in the punishing, unforgiving land. The stunted and twisted trees and bushes that were more thorn than leaf were like the inhabitants of this land; hardy, made to survive, with no apparent softness to them at all.

It was home.

Arcan swept his gaze back and forth, admiring the way the land looked with the dying rays of the sun. When night fell and the moon began to rise, it would be eerily beautiful. The land was ugly in the brightest part of the day. The sun was merciless, like the Anarlinans. Darkness was and always would be the friend of Morilantans, civilized or Outcast.

There was no borders, no visible signs to indicate where one tribal territory ended and another began but Arcan knew precisely how far he could go and still be on his land. Someday, it would all be his. He was the greatest, fiercest, most respected, most feared chief in all of the Aeryie and beyond. He had conducted daring raids not only on travelers but direct attacks on cities. His clan was gluttoned on riches and luxuries. Every other tribe despised them and despised him, but none could defeat them. Arcan had steadily been tearing down his enemies and claiming their lands. He was becoming a king of his own domain.

And he was ushering in a new order. Although he agreed with and thrived in the brutal life of the Outcasts, he was bringing order to what was once pure chaos. Steadily, he was putting down the heathen worship of Evil in favor of honoring Worg. Strength was to be valued. Cruelty was a tool to establish dominance, not something for sport... usually. A little cruelty was all right.

Even Arcan wasn't entirely sure where the lines were drawn between the ancient ways and the ones he was forging. But he would get there. He had to prepare a land where his own sons could grow and thrive, be strong and great as he was, but also understand the Love that beat in their hearts, such as he and his brother were taught.

He had help at least. Turning, he leapt from his rocky perch and flew back to his tribe. His wife rose and greeted him with a tender embrace.

Nalani.

Arcan pressed his forehead to hers and held her closely. He did not take concubines. He did not consider the women of his tribe property, least of all his. He had the only woman in any world.

"I love you," she told him softly in a sing-song voice. That voice could quench the anger that seemed to always burn in his belly, ready to leap out at a moment's notice. She was his keeper now in the way his brother once had been, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

His calloused hands stroked her soft, shining hair. "I love you too," he murmured back.

He had his home, his wife, his tribe. All was right in his world again.

[Kender Bard]

Cobalt Dreams

Cobalt held out a hand to Holiday and steadied her as she walked up the wooden stairs to the noble seats at the tournament grounds. The pair settled into their own box, draped in the colors of their house, and got comfortable. Holiday smiled and scanned the grounds below. "I can't see him," she said after a moment, a small frown creasing her brows.

Cobalt looked as well and then pointed. "There he is," he told his wife with barely concealed excitement. In the distance, Bryant swung his greatsword a few times in practice. Somehow, against the odds, he noticed his parents at the same time and waved to them.

Cobalt chuckled and waved back, Holiday doing so with enough enthusiasm for the both of them as well.

Today was a special day. It was a day of testing for all the young squires and knight-hopefuls that would be competing for positions in the knighthood. Afterwards, there would be another round of fighting amongst the victors to help determine those who could qualify for officer positions. Cobalt had no doubts that his son would secure his place in the knighthood itself, but would he be able to snatch one of those precious few officer positions as well?

The day wore on, refreshments were circulated for noble and peasant spectators alike as the young men fought with one another in bracketed rounds. As predicted, Bryant had managed to win the four times in a row to ensure he would become a knight in the following year, but when he took his fifth win, Cobalt was on the edge of his seat for the matches to come.

Here was where those inclined to gamble placed their betting in earnest. The cream of the crop skirmished with one another for high honor. And Bryant won... and again. And then there he was, fighting in the final round against the only man left standing. Both of them were dog tired, but that was also an important aspect of the tournament. Stamina was a crucial part of a knight's training.

The fighting wasn't quite as energetic as previous matches, and so it came down not to brute strength but skill. This did not detract from the match at all. And when Bryant managed to disarm his opponent, the stands went wild. Cobalt was shouting at the top of his lungs, jumping up and down like a young man. "That's my son! That's my son!!"

Bryant lifted his sword, and the roaring grew deafening. It wasn't until the shouting had died down to a mere noisy that his son spoke up, voice enhanced by his exhausted Wind powers. "I thank you for this honor, this privilege of serving you all in the knighthood. I claim this honor not for myself, but for my father, Lord Cobalt Furinko, who taught me all I know and shaped what I have become today."

Deep pride welled up within Cobalt, tears pricking his eyes. He had done well by his son. Any fears that might have still nagged at him about his capability to be a good father were erased in that moment.

[Kender Bard]

Noel's Nightmare

"NOX!" Noel screamed as he darted from room to room in his mansion. There was smoke everywhere and fire, but Noel used his wind powers to try and push some of it away, making a small area of breathable air, even as it fanned the flames around him even hotter. His feathers had almost caught some of the flames several times already and he knew that there would be blistering pain from heat burns on his body when he finally ducked out of the house. But he wouldn't be doing so without his son.

He wasn't sure what started the fire but it terrified him to his core to be standing in the inferno. The house groaned; it would not hold much longer. Several places had already seen collapse. Heart pounding in his chest, Noel cast his eyes to an upper railing. The stairs were impassable but he could fly. Taking one more breath of air, Noel launched himself up, flapping wildly and pushing with his Wind to get up to the next level. It was even more hellish up above than down below. Noel could no longer call out for Nox. He simply ran around, trying to find his boy.

Noel burst into Nox's room and found the boy trembling in a corner. At last! He moved to grab Nox. The two of them could escape out the nearest window to safety. "Nox!" Noel gasped, and then coughed heavily.

Nox looked over at the sound of his name, a look of relief stealing over his face still stamped with terror as well. Noel could see his son's lips move, saying 'father' but the sound of Nox's voice was drowned out by the deafening crack that filled the air. Noel's sigh became obscured as debris fell from the ceiling. He tried to see, but the smoke, ash, and dust were too thick. "NOX!" he screamed again, pushing blindly forward, one hand out stretched. He had to find his son!

More debris fell, landing on Noel, trapping him, pinning him down. Noel cried out in agony as he felt himself being crushed. Face on the floor, though, he could see more clearly. There was one arm outstretched from the rubble pile in front of him.

Forces, no, Noel thought in crystallized horror. He reached out, trying to touch that open hand. Nox, no! It couldn't be what it seemed.

The smoke settled closer to the floor and suddenly Noel wasn't able to see again. But he could feel. Oh, how he could feel. No matter how he struggled and heaved, he couldn't free himself. He could feel the pain of his predicament, but even more terrible was the heat of the fire that ate its way closer to him, devouring everything. Soon it would devour him too. He could smell burning feathers and dared not look to his wings.

All he could do was pray that the end would be swift, even though he knew it would not be.

[Kender Bard]

Mina's Nightmare

Mina crept through the streets of Skyheort with utmost caution, clinging to the cloak draped over herself like a security blanket. Her visions had begun to narrow down to this area of the city for which she was grateful. The murderer's kills were getting more and more frequent. Normally, on a job so difficult and dangerous, Mina would have informed the guards of what she knew long before now but a recent vision had made her stall on that. She was hoping to save a life this night.

She had no plans to confront the murderer in her nightmarish visions, her 'gift' from Etaf. She mostly had butterflies since she was in her hometown and she was concerned that, even at this late hour, she would bump into someone who recognized her and would fetch the guards on her. Or worse, her family.

Clear on the loose, everyone panic, Mina thought sadly as her breath misted up on the cold air. She's been known to use her power before. Quick, catch her. The irony was that she was planning to use her ability to ensnare this night in order to prevent a tragedy.

The door to the building across the street opened, spilling inviting light into the night momentarily before shutting, forcing Mina to rely on moonlight.

A handsome man, tall and long-legged, walked into her view. For a moment she could only see the large white and yellow-tinged wings he sported as he kept his back to her but when he turned and she looked into his face, she felt her heart pause. He was beautiful! Long, fine blonde hair and a delicate face--and he seemed familiar but she couldn't place from where.

He stole away, heading down the street, and Mina followed at a fairly long distance. She would need to close the gap between them considerably if she was to use her aura and she hastened her steps a little to catch up, though his stride was greater than hers.

As she drew nearer, she began to grow nervous about using her power. She disliked ensnaring anyone; it made her feel evil. Wasn't it evil?

She stopped short as up ahead her target was stopped by another familiar face--the countenance of her killer as he stopped his latest victim, just as in her visions. Now, she had to act now! She unleashed her aura and stepped up, opened her mouth...

But no orders leapt forth. She felt paralyzed and mute, unable to speak. He looks like-

Her window of opportunity closed and, head cocked quizzically, the beautiful man left with his future killer.

"Wait," Mina said, but it came out as a feeble murmur, not a cry of alarm. Her heart beat in frenzy as the two turned a corner and disappeared. For a moment, Mina remained frozen on the spot before she turned and began to run as fast as she could for the guard house. If they recognized her, so be it. She couldn't let that man die.

He looked too much like the figure from the dream she sometimes had, the wonderful dream of a life of love and acceptance. Even if he was just a living version of the phantom of her desires, Mina felt a connection to him. As she ran, she prayed that she would not be too late to save his life, but fearing in her heart of hearts that she was.

[Kender Bard]

Nox Dreams

Today was fantastic!

Nox was given leave of his tutor (the man was dealing with some matter of his own family) and Noel had the day free as well. An unexpected day off together!

"Let's go, Dad!" Nox urged, practically dancing around in front of the door. Noel quickened his step and caught up to his son, smiling and laying a hand against Nox's shoulders.

"I have a surprise for you," Noel replied. "But we need to go flying to get there."

Nox made a happy sound. He could fly, a little. But even if it wasn't much, it was still fun when Noel carried him the rest of the way. The pair made their way out and into the air. Soon all of Skyheort was falling away beneath them as they traversed. It was a beautiful sight and never failed to delight Nox.

The pair did not go far, only to Zephyr Heights. There, Noel led Nox to a small ranch that lay where the ground was finally flat and smooth. Horses milled about within a paddock.

"Today," Noel announced. "We'll get you a horse, son, and teach you to ride. Then we'll begin traveling with one another to see all of Naruta."

"But what about work?" Nox asked, eyes a touch wide. "And school?"

"It's more important that I spend time with my boy," Noel told him firmly. "And a worldly education is just as important as a scholarly one. So, let's go pick out your first ever mighty steed, shall we?"

Nox dashed forward to do that, feeling light as a feather still. He was going to go on grand adventures with his father and see the world! What could possibly be greater than that?

[Kender Bard]

Shyamal... Dreams?

It was hard to watch, but Shyamal forced himself to do so anyway. One by one, the heads rolled and each person down the line died. People dead on his command.

It had to be done, he thought, trying to steel his heart but feeling it swell with pain anyway. Why couldn't they have just listened and seen and understood?

No matter. In one fell swoop, some of the most vile men and women of Morilanta were dead. Shyamal finally turned away as the mess was cleaned up and made his way back to his study in the palace. Superficially, Morilanta still had the ugly look of evil about it, but there was a tangible difference in how people held themselves, carried themselves. Less fear. More wary optimism. People stopped to chat with one another; they didn't merely hurry from one destination to the next, eyes avoiding contact less they accidentally draw the wrong kind of attention.

He put a stop to that. He rooted out the evil that went to the very heart of Morilanta and systematically dug it up. It was hard and there was still much to do, but someday Morilanta and Anarlina would be twin nations, not rivals.

He reached up to adjust his Anarlinan-styled crown--

Wait.

Slowly, Shyamal removed the crown from his head and stared at it in confusion. What was he doing here? Why would he be in charge of such a great undertaking? He had Widor to look after under his father's tutelage.

He lifted his gaze from the soft, golden metal circlet and looked around his father's study. There was no circlet in his hand, merely a slender length of chain from which hung an amulet fashioned in his House crest. He hastily put the jewelry back on and walked off.

What a bizarre dream...

Outside the window, as he walked past, Morilanta gleamed, a bastion of light and hope.

[Kender Bard]

Nalani's Nightmare

Outside, hell raged unchecked making the tenuous peace of the temple seem even more surreal and fleeting. Nalani stood surrounded by kneeling faithful, their hands clasped white-knuckled in desperate prayer. Some were silent while others wept openly. Nalani moved amongst them, her priestly robes a soft whisper of sound against the smooth stone floor, punctuated by the low murmur of her voice as she spared a few words here and there. There was little else more she could do.

She knew, they all knew, that in the end, Love would not save them. The heroes had fallen and Evil ran rampant just outside the walls, burning and destroying everything around them. The temple remained the last bastion of peace almost as a gesture of mockery from the dark forces that lurked without, as if to say, 'We will spare you because we can afford to wait. Your destruction is inevitable.'

Where was Love in all this to protect them? Many of those around her despaired, wondering this very question, wondering where their intangible savior was when the great enemy was real and breathing down their necks.

Nalani knelt by a small, trembling child who seemed to be alone and stroked back his hair in a soothing gesture, one arm and wing coming around in a comforting embrace. The child whimpered and nestled closer to her.

"It's okay," she whispered to him. "Love will protect us."

"Promise?" the child whispered.

Nalani watched the looming figures of darkness approaching. "I promise," she lied. The child relaxed in her arms inch by inch. I'm sorry, she thought towards him and towards all the others who had come here, looking to her for help, for hope, for guidance. She could only offer words that lay like ashes in her mouth. Love could provide no protection, only a misty promise that would burn away at the first heat of reality.

The temple doors crashed inward and she shut her eyes against what was to come.

[Kender Bard]

Timble's Nightmare

Timble rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and slipped out of bed--no, a cot. He couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in a bed. Cold air raised goosebumps on his flesh as his bare feet touched the stone. He would need to hurry before the tenants returned to this tiny room of a home. Breaking and entering to sleep was highly risky, but, well, the nights were getting so cold that he had to sleep somewhere indoors or freeze.

He caught a flash of himself in the mirror and paused, staring away precious seconds at his tangled mess of hair and rumpled, ill-fitting outfit. It at least concealed his bust; better loose than too tight and having to knife drunks in the night who thought to take advantage of a poor woman on the streets.

I look a frightful mess! Divria's voice echoed in the back of his mind.

Quiet, Timble ordered her; they needed to focus on securing food and somewhere warm for the morning. Divria could fret later. It was Timble's time to shine.

I'm hungry, brother, Divria thought sadly as Timble pried open a window and slipped outside, gasping from the cold despite having been aware that it would be there. Even an unheated house was a bit more protection than the open street.

Me too, Timble thought grimly as he hurried off, shivering and eyes darting. But don't worry. I'll take care of us, I always do right? He spied a beggar with what looked to be a blanket in fairly good condition. And was that a crust of bread he was chewing on? DT's hand went for the crude knife kept in a precious bit of wrapped cloth that passed for a sheath.

Timble, don't! Divria cried out, sensing the flow of their thoughts.

Just close your eyes for a little while, Timble advised his twin as he crept up on the target from the side, moving as lightly as he could. And it will be over soon.

He felt some small part of him dim, like a lantern turned down low. Divria was always there, but not always fully alert. He used to hold that position, when they were younger, but a lifetime of unrelenting hard breaks and struggling to live had seen him thrust up as the dominant personality between the two of them. He didn't particularly care for it, trapped in his sister's body, forced to push her down again and again as he added one crime after another to his long list.

But, well, that was the price of survival...

[Northen Light36]

Robin's Nightmare

Robin was running. Sometimes it felt like he'd never been doing anything else, like the life before now had been nothing but a bittersweet dream. But at least this time he wasn't running away. There was no reason to flee anymore, nothing left to try and protect. His father was dead. His aunt was dead. His cousins all dead. His siblings were dead. His twin...

Robin paused and looked down at the bloody lock of hair in his hand. He prayed she was dead. But they'd taken her and that traitorous flicker of hope had him running to the thieves guild. There, there was the entrance. He charged down into it.

It was dark. Pitch black in a way he'd never known it to be. But there was a light flickering in the chambers of the Thief Lord and he charged blindly in, not caring what happened to him. No one grabbed him, no one stopped him, and as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Robin saw Letha.

His twin's eyes were wild and unfocused as she turned to look at him and smile. "Robin! You're late for dinner. We've all been waiting for you."

She gestured and with a sick fear, Robin took in the details of the figures sitting around the table. His mother, his father, Bas, Pas, Aries... Lilly... All dead. Their bodies slumped in the chairs like gruesome dolls.

He was already screaming as the door slammed behind him and the outside bolt slid home.

[Kender Bard]

Kaylin Dreams

A high, joy-filled shrieking laugh jolted Kaylin awake, her heart pounding madly. "What is it?" she gasped out in one mad, rushed breath.

"Easy; it's okay," Nuo's voice came from behind her. Something tightened around her waist. She glanced down to see his arm and then craned her head around to catch a glimpse of him from her peripheral vision. Although she couldn't see his face well, she could see the slight crinkling around his eye to suggest he was smiling. "Bad dream?"

He's holding me? she puzzled out. Her back was to his chest and together they were propped against the base of a great oak tree. Between Nuo and the late spring sunshine reaching her through the forest canopy, a lethargic warmth filled. She felt her eyes starting to droop again but fought against it.

"I-I think so?" she replied, uncertain if THIS was the dream or not. Wasn't she just in Haven? "Did I doze off?"

"You did," he told her. "It's fine. I'm nodding off a little myself."

There was another yell that snapped Kaylin to alertness again, but not quite with such violence as last time. She caught a flash of something darting between two trees. Was that a child? A small face peeped out from around the edge of its hiding spot, looking at her. This was followed by a skinny little arm waving energetically. Kaylin slowly lifted her hand and gave a small wave back. The child came out from whatever game she was at and ran over to the pair of them with all the limitless energy of a young child and flopped gracelessly to the ground nearby, grinning.

"I did a cartwheel, Mom, did you see?" she asked, chattering as quickly as Maple--who zipped down from the oak's leaves to fly circles around the child's head.

Mom? Kaylin thought with a bit of alarm. But the girl was looking at her so earnestly, she decided to nod.

"I'm gettin' really good at them," the girl-child put in proudly. She shifted her eyes to look at, presumeably, Nuo. "Tell me a story?"

"Later," Nuo told her kindly. "I think Maple wants to play."

"I do!" the sprite cried out with glee. "Let's race!"

"Okay!" the girl giggled, bounding back up to her feet and tearing off after the faerie.

Kaylin watched it all, confused, but not displeased. She wasn't sure what was happening or why but as her wariness began to fade, she felt herself starting to smile more and more. "This is nice," she said after a moment. She leaned her head back a bit until it rested against Nuo's shoulder. He put his head against hers. And what if it is a dream? Then it could end at any time, couldn't it? She wrapped her arms around his arm holding her and gave him an awkward hug. "I love you," she told him with a sudden passion.

"I love you too," he murmured into her ear. The girl--her daughter? though she didn't really seem to look like either of them at all--peeled away from her play to sit next to the pair of them and lean over, draping herself against Kaylin's lap. Kaylin freed one of her hands to stroke the girl's hair and felt the slow, gentle bloom of maternal affection filling her heart.

This is... Just right, she decided and let her family's love wash over her.