Summary: Devon dreams.
Date: 3 January 2014
Related: None.

May 8, 3014 — Unknown

Softly, her bare feet carry her up the winding stairs. She is like a ghost, all silver and pale in flowing silks and long whitish hair. Her fingertips glide along the interior column of the stairwell as she rises up and up through the stygian tower. The floors are as cold and smooth as black ice; once, they radiated with the warmth of the lava flows.

She can hear their whispers, but they are distant and unintelligible; a din of conversation, drawing her higher and higher up. Now and then, she hears a single voice rising from below, but it is as wordless as the ones coming from above.

When she comes to the tall, narrow wrought-iron door, it yields to her without a single touch, opening to reveal the overlook. She steps out onto soft, wintry groundcover that accumulates from a steady snowfall. She reaches out, palms cupped together. As the flakes touch her skin, they do not melt for she is just as cold.

Those whispers are clearer now, but there is something not quite… right about them. They sound as if they are coming from the sky above. She tilts her head up as she strides out to the middle of the dais. The firmament is a flat, blurry gray. No sun, no stars, no moon; just a blanket of absolute platinum that stretches from horizon to horizon.

She cranes her neck, dropping her head as far back as it may until her eyes alight on the radial crack at the topmost crown of the sky. It is growing. Tiny fissures branch out from the center, and begin to widen. Crimson droplets start to burble at the cracks, and then the first of them splashes at her feet. Then another, and another.

She retreats a step as the droplets start to pool together. It spreads out across the ashen groundcover, herding her back another step, and then another. She looks up once more, and bears witness as chunks of sky begin to fall, streaking toward earth like enormous meteors.

The first cataclysmic impact causes the tower to shake; she is thrown off her feet and into the low barrier that encircles the overlook. She knows the tower cannot withstand this, and she can hear it groan. Opposite of her, stone by stone, the overlook begins to fall away as the tower starts to collapse.

But, she does not move. All she can do is watch as the colossal spaceship breaks through the gaping, bleeding hole in the sky. Its shadow is unending, swallowing the world in darkness.

That lone whisper she heard from below is louder now, coming from the depths of the tower. It is urgent, and she knows it is calling for her. Terror has seized her, however. She cannot find the door; she cannot escape. She digs her heels into the snow and blood covered stone, trying to push herself tighter into the barrier. It does not secure her, however, but instead gives.

For a heartbeat, she is weightless. Everything falls away. She hears the voice clearer now, ringing in her ears, "Wake up, wake up! You must wake up!"

She reaches out toward the falling skies, and her hand abruptly clasps onto another. Her eyes meet his. They are nearly white, save for the faintest ghost of irises and pupils. The silhouette of drake wings soar off his shoulders. His lips are moving, though his voice screams in her head.


And then he jerks hard on their clasped hands, and she is pulled up and out of the dream.

"Lady Devon!"

There is confusion as she is gathered up in unfamiliar arms. Panic seizes her, and she kicks out as she starts to scream. They are holding her back now, trying to maintain their grip while also avoiding possible kicks and punches as she fights back.

She is at the top of the Blackspyre, surrounded by House Khournas guards. The sky is a unbroken blackness, springtime stars trying their best to shine through the haze of the factories. The ground is solid beneath her, and it radiates with the warmth of the lava flows.

"Someone get Sir Victor!"

"What’s going on here!"

"I think she was sleeping walking."

"She tried to jump!"

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