#iarere

        “It’s common,” Ryu had told him. Iarere had tried to convince himself that the annoyance in her tone was imagined. “You’ll get over it once you’re powerful enough.”

        “You got them too?” Iarere had asked.

        “A long time ago,” Ryu had replied. And that had been the end of that conversation.

        Now, like then, Iarere shook the pain away. Now, like then, he had more important things to focus on. Especially since he could now hear Pythios moving around just outside.

        He gathered himself quickly enough, strapping his staff to his back as he made his way out of the small corner room Pythios and Chalah had been kind enough to let he and Ryu use. He knew if he turned his head to the left, he would see Chalah’s slumbering form, either gigantic or truly tiny, depending on whether he’d chosen his original or shifted form to sleep in that night. On the other hand, he could see Pythios’ slim shoulders directly in front of him.

        Pythios, unlike Chalah and Ryu, could easily look him in the eye when they were in their shifted forms. Iarere was unsure if he would consider either of Pythios or himself wildly tall in their shifted forms, but a slightly sour Chalah and Ryu had informed them that they definitely would.

        Now Pythios was leaning over the cache of herbs he kept, while Calandra slept on in one of his clinic's cots.

        Through his time as a healer, Iarere had been through many disappointing experiences. Patients who never fully recovered. Patients who died. And yet, Calandra had topped all of them in terms of sheer frustration. It had, Iarere was sure, something to do with the fact of her power. Her mind, her dreamscapes, and the spirits that hovered around and in it were like a third sun beaming down on him whenever he sunk into the dream world. It was impossible to ignore and so was she.

        “Eldan will be here soon,” Pythios said, without taking his eyes off his work. It was what he said everyday, as if Iarere wasn’t familiar with Eldan’s daily ritual by now. In fact, he was as aware of it as he was of Pythios’ next question. “Is Ryu here?”

        Iarere didn’t bother to hide his sigh. Eldan had taken an immense disliking to Ryu quite quickly. It was not undeservedly, though. Ryu had long seemed to harbor a distaste for Calandra. She refused to even get close to her and frequently eyed her as if she were a hydra. It took only moments of Eldan watching her do so to decide he disliked her and only a few moments after that for Ryu to decide that Eldan’s dislike of her amused her to no end. So, occasionally, when Ryu did feel like social situations were worth stomaching, she would loom in the corner of the room to quietly antagonize Eldan as much as possible.

        “She’s not,” Iarere said. “I don’t know where she went.”

        “You’re not worried, are you?” Pythios asked, his large earrings jingling as he turned around.

        “No,” Iarere said, and from the look on Pythios’ face, he could hear Iarere’s lie as easily as Iarere could taste in on his tongue.

        Eldan’s footsteps echoed outside the clinic and Iarere slid his staff from his shoulders and worried the worn wood under his hands as he moved quickly over to Calandra’s side. Eldan glanced suspiciously around the room before he entered slowly and hurried to Calandra’s side.

        “She’s the same,” Pythios said

Eldan’s face twisted into an ugly expression of pain, anger, and desperation and Iarere looked away. “She hasn’t done anything?”

“No,” Pythios said gently. “Iarere believes her mind was overloaded with Spirit power while she was performing the necessary ritual.” Iarere tried to ignore the glare Eldan shot him. “She’s physically healthy and seemingly stable. This coma is likely something her brain cooked up to allow her to rest while it deals with all the extra energy.”

“You think,” Eldan added on, under his breath. Pythios ignored him. Eldan’s lip curled at Pythios’ silence and he kicked the chair out so it made a piercing scrapping sound against the floor. He sat in it with a loud thump and Iarere couldn’t help but marvel at how childish Eldan looked as he then crossed his arms high up on his chest.

Pythios had started to wander off about half way through Eldan’s display. Iarere had never seen Pythios roll his eyes before, but he was entirely sure this was his way of doing so. Iarere pulled his gaze off the sulking Eldan and hurried after Pythios.

“He’s worried about her,” Pythios said softly when Iarere came to his side.

Iarere blinked. “I know.”

There was a beat of silence, and though Pythios didn’t look at him, he did cock his head ever so slightly as he asked, “how would you feel if it were Ryu?”

Iarere stared at him. He knew Pythios would never be intentially cruel. It simply wasn’t in his heart. He wouldn’t have asked that if he thought thinking about it would truly pain him. And, so, he must think it might not.

Did it? It shouldn’t. Ryu was the anthesis to what Iarere stood for. He was a healer. She was a murderer and a monster and worse. And she had never been particularly nice to him besides.

And yet his chest ached at the very thought.

Iarere could feel Pythios’ gaze on the side of his face now. The other did not speak again, but he made a humming noise, low and in the back of his throat. Iarere couldn’t tell what it meant, but it still made tears burn in the corners of his eyes.

And it hurt enough that Iarere failed to realize his headache had only become worse.

He continues along his path, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees a spirt flit past. It’s gone before he could make much out of it, but, still, he smiles. Spirits never travel alone, not for long. They’re drawn to each other, drawn to the spirit world, and drawn, most importantly, to the those who connected with them.

How long had it been since he had Devoured the mind of a Spirit Necromancer, he wondered as he followed the trails the spirit had left behind.

The slight scent of pure spirit magic filled his nostrils as he inhaled, and he immediately decided it had been too long.

He reached for the necromancers mind, ready for his hunger to be sated but…

His grasp slipped away from her mind, like claws slipping on wet stone. He turned his head and reached out once more. Again, he could not reach far, but the barrier flexed under his grasp.

Almos snorted in surprise and amusement both. It had been a long time since he had come across a Dream Caster, but even longer since he had found one this new. He could feel the freshness of the shield the Caster had erected, the hesitance which they had put into their magic.

Amusing, Almos thought. This Caster was so new, they… he, Almos noted as he brushed against the shield again, he likely could not even repel the weakest of Devourers. But, Almos mused, here he was, standing a successful guard over the only Spirit Necromancer Almos had come across in more years than he cared to count. So how…

And then he felt it.

“Of course,” Almos said, as he turned. “He is not the protector.”

“No,” the other Devourer said. The blackness that signified what she was did not move, but the certain shade of red that indicated who she was wavered ever so slightly. Almos idly remembered he had been a dark green, before. He doubted there would be anything left but blackness now.

“I recommend you leave, now,” the other Devourer said. Ryu, Almos realized. She curled her lip. “Now, Almos.”

Ah. She was impressive. New, just like that Caster, but much more powerful. “Interesting,” Almos said. “I would ask why a Devourer would protect one of those with the Spirits, but I do believe I already know.”

“Enough games,” Ryu said. “You are to leave, and never return. I will not ask again.”

“You are strong for you age,” Almos said and he let what he was unfurl across the ground underneath their feet. “But you know you cannot match me in power.”

“Perhaps,” Ryu said, and Almos abruptly realized there would be no displays of power on her side. “But I am willing to Seal this place. And I doubt you will go that far. Now. Leave.”

Almos’ tail struck real ground and cold, sharp air pressed against his physical lungs. He sat up and snarled his fury into the night’s sky.

Eventually, calm set in again, and a smile crept on his face. Interesting indeed. Almos wasn’t looking to get caught up in a Seal, no. He had escaped far too many of those already. But there were ways to get around a Seal, no matter how often his younger Dream Walkers continued to insist on using it as the last resort.

Almos’ legs shook as he stood, and his unused muscles cried out in distress. Irritation welled inside him, but he pushed it away, along with the pain. There would be plenty of time to remedy that one his journey.

After all, it was a long way to the Wrymwound.

A lot of Valdis’ subjects don’t make it very long. She tires of them quickly, particularly if they don’t manifest any other gifts or if the gifts they do take on aren’t to her liking. Her longest surviving one is still by her side now; a Pearlcatcher by the name of Libitina. Libitina’s gift is the touch of death; anyone she touches will turn to dust and die. Another of her undead is Amrit, a Skydancer. He can shapeshift into all manner of other creatures. Valdis finds this particular gift rather dull and plans to dispose of Amrit soon, as she no longer requires him and his gift to spy on Clan Viska.

The last of her undead is Serkan. She found him, dead, killed by Harpies, while travelling in the Southern Icefields. She reanimated him on a whim, but thought that her magic had failed her with him when he didn’t wake quickly. Bored, she moved on. But Serkan awoke again later, and was thrilled to discover his blood magic. Ever since then, his ambitions have had him moving quickly and Valdis struggled to find him again. When she finally did, she was more than pleased.

Serkan was in the company of a dying breed, a Blood Whisperer. Valdis very much wants one by her side, and that Akane is the Queen of the Blood Whisperers makes it all the sweeter.

Valdis conspires to put herself close, and in Akane’s inner circle, which is all the easier with a spot open (left by Desire). She wishes to kill Akane and take her spot, with very few being any the wiser. However, Rehbein, who greatly mistrusts her, attempts to block her path in every way.

He finds a partner in Calandra, who has another necromancer, can tell Valdis is one too, and the spirits Calandra surrounds herself with warn her that Valdis is up to no good. When they discover how Amrit, Libitina, and Serkan are bound to Valdis, Rehbein and Calandra attempt to break her control over them, but Calandra is not experienced enough to do so.

It’s then that Iarere, a Dream Caster, makes his way into Viska territory, bringing with him his reluctant (and grumpy) partner Ryu. Iarere comes to meet Calandra, curious about her abilities as a necromancer and her connection with spirits, with interacts with the dreamrealm he walks in. 

Calandra quickly enlists his help in defeating Valdis. While she sleeps, Iarere attempts to rip the secret of freeing her undead from her grip. Iarere succeeds in getting the spell from Valdis, but Calandra is only able to free Amrit before Valdis turns Serkan and Libitina loose on Clan Viska.

Calandra is able to free Libitina, but not before Libitina is able to touch her. Calandra is able to gather enough power from the spirits to keep herself alive, but she falls into a coma immediately after breaking the hold on Libitina.

And through a hard won battle, Valdis falls under the combined strength of Akane and Mahli. Serkan flees the battlefield and doesn’t return. When the deaths are tallied, it’s discovered that Humarya, having been kept as a prisoner, was killed as well.

Sometimes, she buzzed with those very same darkness and dangers. Sometimes, red and black leaked from her form in a twisted dance. Sometimes, consciousness fell away, and though Iarere wanted to stop it, he found he could not.

“We are what we are, my dear,” Ryu had said to him.

A Dream Devourer and a Dream Caster. Locked in the dance of friends and foes. Casters, destined to keep nightmares away. Devourers, promised to be the very nightmares that plagued those dreams. Casters fed off light dreams, but Devourers fed off dark ones.

“The terror a nightmare brings will always be so much more than the good feelings a nice dream does,” Ryu told Iarere. “Devourers are destined to be forever stronger for it.”

That was true. When Ryu desired it so, she could go much longer periods of time without needing energy than Iarere. “It’s because you’re so determined to keep those nightmares away,” Ryu explained. “If you let a few more nightmares pass you by, you wouldn’t blow through so much energy all at once.”

The constant limbo of being a Caster confused Iarere. To sustain his power as a Caster, he needed to go into good dreams and gather the energy from them. To do that, he had to keep nightmares away (and he frequently did so without even knowing it). Keeping nightmares away sapped his powers quickly. And on and on it went.

When he was barely more than a Walker, he had asked Ryu why bother with this cycle? Ryu looked at him like she had never heard anything more insane.

“Who could give it up?” she’d asked.

And that was certainly the question. Being a Caster, being what he was, it felt more right than anything.

So he continued to wander and sooth what he could, taking in all the beautiful, vibrant sights of the dreams he would never get to have. He didn’t like to converse with the hosts that much; he far prefered to be their silent protector. Ryu agreed; though she was their silent tormentor.

“The dreams are always more interesting than the dragon,” she’d say with a shrug. Iarere found he couldn’t contradict her often.

But apparently that wasn’t always the case.

The dream Iarere was in now was bright and fuzzy, like dreams hadn’t been since he had just been a Walker. Things, pale and translucent, floated past, but what they were, he couldn’t quite make out.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” a mild voice said.

A Skydancer observed him with red eyes and a cocked head. The dream didn’t flicker around her feet, it didn’t ripple or pull at her body. It stayed steady, washing around her like water rushing down a stream.

“You’re the host,” Iarere said as he took a step forward and felt the dream curl around his ankle. Host shouldn’t be able to make contact with any type of Dream Walker. The host merely provided the landscape, either to wander in, or to manipulate, if they were a Caster or Devourer.

The Skydancer’s gaze wandered away from Iarere and she stared off at the creatures floating past. “I’m dreaming,” she said quietly. “Usually it’s the only peaceful time. The spirits can’t speak to me here. I just see them.”

“Spirits?” Iarere said. “Is that what those are?”

The Skydancer hummed. “They don’t like dreams. I wonder if it’s because of you. But I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’ve never been in a dream like this before,” Iarere said.

“I have.”

Ryu’s physical form manifested in a swirl of red and black and she scowled at the bright dream. “Iarere,” she said. “You shouldn’t have come here.”

The Skydancer stared at Ryu with huge eyes. “You’re different too.”

“Why can she see us?” Iarere asked.

“She’s a spirit necromancer,” Ryu said distastefully. “And when we wander, we’re close enough to spirits for them to see and communicate with us at will.”

The dream dimmed and the burst of sound that followed sent Iarere to his knees. Ryu stayed on her feet, her jaw clenched and head tucked against her chest at the roar of hundreds of voices. The Skydancer just looked sad.

“I have to go now,” she said. Her soft voice should have been swallowed by the babbling, but it carried right to Iarere’s ears. “You can come find me.”

Awake suddenly, and blind once more, Iarere leapt from his sleeping mat and snarled at Ryu, “in the name of the Fortress of Ends, why didn’t you tell me about spirit necromancers?”

Ryu shifted on her own sleeping mat, but did not rise. “They’re rare,” she said. “And you’re not supposed to come in contact with them.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Well, was it pleasant?” Ryu asked.

Iarere could not produce an answer. The landscape of the dream was jarring, and the clamoring of the spirits were painful, and yet. And yet, he still wanted to explore more.

“Do you know her name?” Iarere asked.

Ryu snorted. “Did I devourer her?” she asked. Iarere could hear her tail flick lazily over the sleeping mat. “If you want to go chasing after one of the most dangerous things to us, be my guest,” she said. “Don’t expect me to have your back, though.”