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It had been a long while since Garrett had ventured into territory that wasn’t within the influence of his dream flowers, and a faint thrill ran through him as he regarded the darkened hall outside his room. Behind him, crowded around his wheelchair, were two dozen blooms, forming a bright light that chased the shadows from the room and established a small safe zone, but as soon as he stepped outside the room, he would be on his own.If he was completely honest with himself, he often wondered if he had been foolish in choosing the Path of the Watcher. The high growth potential had attracted him, but that was before he had acquired the Dream Seed ability. If he had chosen Path of the Blade, he still would have been able to pursue his current strategy, but he also would have been able to protect himself.
What is done is done. I just need to keep leveling up. I might even be able to level tonight.
Out of reflex, and also to avoid having to go out into the darkened hall for another few seconds, he checked his experience points.
EXP: 152/160
He had been trying his best to avoid planting dream seeds because he desperately wanted the level up, and was hoping that the awakened dreamers would have a good hunt tonight. Sighing, he closed the window, made sure that Dreamer’s Cloak was up, and stepped out into the hall. Though the dream world seemed like a reflection of the real world, Garrett had begun to understand that it wasn’t an exact replica. Sometimes, what existed in the waking world was reflected in a twisted form in the dream, and occasionally, it was completely different.
This made it all the more important that he proceed slowly, ensuring that he had the time and space he needed to escape if the situation called for it. Ghostly green torches hung on the wall where the lamps would have been in the waking world, casting a haunting glow over the portraits that lined it. As Garrett moved down the hall, stepping carefully across the threadbare carpet, he was sure that he saw some of the portraits shift, their expressions growing more fearful. Stopping in front of one such portrait, he looked at it closely, but couldn’t see any difference from what he remembered in the waking world.
With a sigh, he shook his head and continued going, passing down the long hall until he came to the stairs. The grand staircase went down two whole flights, curving to the right in a grand bend that also let out onto the second floor. At the bottom of the staircase was the main hall, that ran the width of the property, from the front door straight out back to the garden. Another passage ran the length of the property, and it was off this passage that the basement stairs could be found. Garrett’s goal, however, was not the basement.
Instead, he walked quietly down the stairs, the fog parting around him. He moved in silence, and there seemed to be no sound anywhere, the dream choked in the thick mist that covered everything. Stopping at the second floor landing, Garrett took a moment to observe, searching for the shifting of the mist that would have suggested the presence of a nightmare. When he saw and heard nothing, he began to walk down the hall, his attention going ahead to the light he could sense.
He had just arrived at the doorway to the third room when he heard a slight snuffing sound and froze, his hand reaching for the doorknob. He was standing in the hallway, completely exposed, but rather than turn his head to look for the source of the sound, he activated Observe the Dream, shifting to observe his body from outside. He could see himself standing by the door, his hand outstretched, fog curling around him from Dreamer’s Cloak, turning his form indistinct. With careful deliberation, he turned his view, looking behind him to see if he could figure out where the sound was coming from.
At first, there was nothing but darkness, but Garrett refused to believe it. He had heard a sound, and not the sort of sound that one’s foot might make against a carpet. It had been breathing, and he wasn’t about to believe that the things in the dream that might breathe would be friendly. Concentrating, he saw the fingers first. Long, worm-like appendages stretched out from the feet of a nightmare that looked to be the size of a desiccated dog. A pair of what looked like empty eyes appeared above its mouth, sucking in air with a snuffling sound as it searched around with its waving fingers.
Seeing its rough, bumpy skin glistening with slime in the faint light, Garrett could feel his throat catching. His heart was already pounding in his chest, but seeing it was worse than when the idea of a nightmare had just been conjecture. The monster crawled forward, sniffing this way and that as it went, clearly looking for something. Problem was, Garrett had no idea if it had spotted him or not. If it had, he needed to move, but if it hadn’t then moving might attract its attention.
You have observed a Withered Beast, a nightmare that hunts for weaker nightmares in the dream and consumes them. You have gained 3 EXP.
EXP: 155/160
Eyeless, the monster continued to test the air, slowly getting closer to Garrett who was still standing stock still in the passage. There was more than enough space in the wide hallway for the Withered Beast to pass by him without touching him, and Garrett decided that he was just going to trust in the integrity of Dreamer’s Cloak, but the closer the nightmare came, the worse an idea that seemed. Normally, Garrett was cold and rather emotionless, but the bulging, worm-like fingers on the nightmare’s limbs reminded him of the Chosen of Shalmoroth that he had once seen, and it was starting to cause panic.
Taking a light breath, Garrett forcefully suppressed the urge to run and waited, motionless, even when the creature arrived next to him. It was still turning its head from side to side as it smelled the air, but the sinking feeling in Garrett’s heart started to lighten as it slid past him. With growing disgust, he saw that it had left a trail of slime behind, staining the carpets with a blackish liquid that carried an oily shine. Suddenly, his heart caught, as the nightmare stopped mid-step and slowly turned its body toward him. That was nearly the end of it, as Garret almost wrenched the door open to run, only his iron self-control preventing his screaming instincts from initiating full flight.
Seconds seemed to stretch into heart-pounding minutes as the monster stood next to him, its wormy fingers spread out right next to him, trying to find his location. With as much subtlety as he could muster, he began to focus on Dreamer’s Cloak, making sure that he was supplying it with enough energy. After a dozen excruciating seconds, the nightmare turned away and began its slow crawl toward the other end of the hallway, continuing on whatever path it had been on before. Even after it was out of sight, Garrett didn’t move, his mind whirring as he tried to get himself back under control. Though he knew he was fine, his body was having a harder time accepting it.
Only after his heart stopped pounding did Garrett slowly open the door, entering the richly decorated room behind it. Even in the dream, where everything was in muted colors, the brilliance of the wallpaper and the glitter of the decorations were easily visible. Just like Garrett’s room, there was a large four-poster bed with heavy curtains, and these curtains were completely closed, shrouding the bed from the outside world. Yet even with the curtains in the way, Garrett could tell that the object he was seeking was inside.
Reaching out with a finger, Garrett twitched the curtains aside, causing light to spill out of the sealed space, revealing the wife of the count dressed in her nightgown, staring in a daze at the piece of crystal that Garrett had given her. She held it cupped in her hands, her gaze transfixed by the shining flower that it contained. Watching her for a moment, Garrett double checked the flower to make sure that it was fine, and then debated for a moment.
What the countess was looking at, was really just a nicely made crystal glass statue, with a bit of metal and paint inside. That, by itself, would never have had the effect that Garret had wanted however, so he had transplanted a dream flower inside of it, one that had grown to a whole four blooms. At that level, its effect was strong enough that it was starting to leak into the real world, and weak minded mortals like the countess were particularly susceptible.
Originally, Garrett’s idea had been to use the crystal as a way to get close to someone and then move the dream flower into them when they slept, but looking at his experience points, he felt like he had a little bit of leeway. With a flick of his finger, he sent a dream seed into the countess, rapidly growing it into a flower. After the first followed the second, but he paused here, because the countess was already starting to show some of the signs of being overpowered.
Interesting. It would seem that the effect is not uniform on everyone. People with weaker wills are more susceptible, which likely means that people with stronger wills are going to be harder. Good thing I’ve been cautious about using dream seeds on the exorcists.
Instead of continuing to infuse energy into the dream flowers, Garrett began to send a subtle prompt.
It’s late. I should go to bed. I need to yawn.
Stifling a yawn, the countess slowly began to let her eyes drift closed, only to sit up suddenly, clutching the crystal as tightly as she could and looking around with bloodshot eyes.
It’s okay. There is no one here. It will still be here tomorrow, even if I sleep. I’ll hold it while I sleep.
It took some time, but eventually the countess did close her eyes and drift off, her breathing starting to steady. Once he was sure that she was indeed sleeping, Garrett reached out gently and touched her shoulder, stepping into her dream. There, he found himself in the garden, surrounded by party goers in ornate masks. The countess stood in the center of the group, holding a masquerade mask in one hand and the beautiful crystal in the other.
“Oh yes,” she said, responding to an indistinct question from the crowd, “it’s the only one of its kind! There are no others like it. Even the royals don’t have anything like this.”
Looking around, Garrett didn’t see anyone familiar, so he snapped his fingers, transforming his suit into something more suitable for the party and walked forward, his face taking on the visage of the count. As soon as the countess saw him, her expression shifted, and fear flashed in her eyes, but he stopped at a safe distance and bowed his head.
“You look lovely tonight, my dear.”
Disbelief colored the countess’ face, though it was swiftly replaced by a smile as Garrett straightened. She preened, an arch smile on her lips.
“I do, don’t I?”
“Positively radiant,” he continued, stepping closer. “I wonder, would you do me the honor of this dance?”
When a gasp slipped from her lips, Garrett felt a flash of worry, afraid he had messed up, but she quickly nodded, taking his hand before he could change his mind.
“Of course!”
There was something strange about the way that the countess kept looking at him with a mixture of fear and triumph, so after they had taken a few turns, he asked her casually about it.
“You look like the cat that caught the bird, my dear? What has you so pleased?”
“I’m just pleased that we’re dancing, darling,” the countess said, her expression shifting between light panic and intense happiness. “I did what the woman said, and it’s working!”
Keeping his lips curled in a smile, Garrett didn’t respond for a moment, his mind turning everything over. Things were developing in a direction he had not anticipated, so he was having to readjust on the fly. He could tell that if he asked the countess directly, her fear would likely overwhelm her, causing her to snap out of the dream, so instead, he tried a less direct tactic.
“Whatever you did doesn’t matter. It only matters that we are together and love each other.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Isn’t that crystal proof of our love?”
The music was coming to a stop, and the countess looked at the crystal she was still clutching, infatuation growing in her eyes. When she looked up, she saw the count was frowning and faint panic grabbed at her.
“What is the matter?”
“There are too many distractions,” he said, looking around at the indistinct guests. “Too many people trying to get between us.”
Nodding her head, the countess grabbed his hand and tugged on it, pulling him toward the house.
“Don’t worry, I’ve taken care of them. No one will get between us anymore.”
Letting himself be pulled, Garrett was suddenly struck with a thought and took a risk.
“Even our daughter, Esera?”
Once again, panic flickered across the countess’ face, but this time it was drowned in a gloating triumph.
“She was never my daughter, no matter how much of a mother I was to her! She was always trying to tear us apart, so I fixed her good! She’ll never get the chance to destroy our relationship now!”
Looks like I’ve stumbled into something big. I better keep pulling on this thread.
Following the countess’s lead Garrett appeared in a drawing room and watched as the countess locked the door and slipped the key down her bodice. Before she turned around, he used Dreamer’s Cloak to shroud himself, vanishing from her view. The excitement on her face faded into confusion as the countess looked around, unable to find her husband. A moment later, she saw him walking through a door behind a screen, taking off his coat.
With a laugh, she chased after him, stepping through the door. As soon as she did, she heard it clang shut behind her and a cold draft struck her, causing her to shiver. Surrounded by stone walls, she was having trouble understanding what was happening when the feeling of cold metal on her hands caused her to look down, only to realize that she was shackled to the wall. Behind her, the cell door groaned as it opened and a cold voice spoke with an iciness that froze her soul.
“Countess Hotis, you are accused of the murder of your daughter, Esera Hotis. How do you plead?”