Post by VirtueNco on Dec 30, 2017 17:22:07 GMT
Ares blinked awake, and his body did not feel his own. Everything was hazy, the environment almost illusionary, as if in a dream. A cool voice spoke beside him, and the man turned his head in surprise, the world in front of him blurring a little too much for comfort.
"It's a dream, my friend. You should know that from the start."
Ares was dressed in his bronze armour, surprisingly decorated in a dozen or so trinkets - trophies that he discarded months ago when he first left his clan. His outfit drew a stark contrast to the well-dressed man beside him, wearing a dull grey suit like those fashionable among the city-folk. He was slightly older than Ares himself, he acknowledged a few moments later, perhaps middle-aged with that touch of silver peeking beneath his jet black coif. His face was stone cold, hiding any emotion.
"I'm back..." Ares said as his environment came into view. A vast, orange desert, with a unique sword piercing the sand every few metres. He'd been here before, only once, before he spoke to Bellona the first time. He'd thought of it only as 'the Dreamscape', not needing another name to call it by after never revisiting.
"You weren't here for long. You weren't ready. But now, you approach a crossroads. The decision when you reach it will be yours to make, but you should at least be informed about it. That is why this place exists."
"Who are you?" Ares asked, slowly becoming aware of how little he understood about this place.
"I guess there's no harm in the truth. I am a spirit, of sorts, though unique in my presence. I inhabit your plane of reality only when I am called forth, when I am wielded, and otherwise pass back into this world. Most often, I take the form of a weapon, the sword you humans call 'Excalibur'. I guess... that would be my name, since I have no other. However, mine is a story for another day."
"You're aware that it's hard to believe you, yes?"
"Of course, though I'm sure you can give me the benefit of the doubt. This is a dream, after all. How can you call anything impossible?"
"This is true. Alright then, 'sword'; show me what you plan to show me."
"You're not going to ask where you are?"
"I'm in a dream. The dreamscape. Any more than that, I can find out when I need to."
"Satisfaction is a virtue... indeed, so is curiosity."
"Get on with it."
"Look. Yonder."
On a far off dune, two armies quickly approached one another. At the head of both was a towering figure, very similar in appearance from this distance.
"They are your ancestors, Ares. On the right, Hra Warhammer, the strongest man in the world. Opposing him is his brother, Gra Warbander, fair and just though somewhat weaker physically. They would battle many, many times over their unnaturally long lifespans, and spawn hundreds of tales of the exploits of both themselves and their warriors. No doubt you've heard of them?"
"Of course. The legend of Hra and Gra is passed down in every generation."
"Then you know the story of Hra's Hospitality?"
"When Gra was threatened by a power beyond his comprehension, he turned to his bitter rival, his brother, for aid. And out of honour, Hra offered it."
"You recently found yourself in need of hospitality from a descendant of Hra himself. You did not invoke this tale to the young Bellona Warhammer?"
"I was unworthy to represent my ancestor."
"Because you failed? Did Gra not fail when he first battled that power which bested him?"
Ares thought for a moment, and accepted the true answer.
"Because I grovelled. I came to Bellona with no honour in my heart, and I did not earn a place, rather begged for it."
"Good. You've learned something from your fall, at least. Now, look to the brothers again."
Ares spied a sword, held aloft by Gra Warbander. Daylight shone off its blade unnaturally, as if amplified by the steel.
"That's you, isn't it?"
"An incarnation of me, yes. Someone must have remembered I was here, at this moment, and so I exist in this dream."
This reignited the young warrior's curiosity.
"I take back my satisfaction. What is this place?"
"There are a few names for where we are, although it is not exactly a 'place'. Perhaps the name you would be familiar with would be 'The Endless Desert'."
"The afterlife? Am I dead?"
"No, no, nothing like that. It is the place where memories come to rest."
"Explain."
Excalibur smiled. He liked explaining. It meant Ares was paying attention.
"All people, all moments, all things, are fleeting. They eventually pass out of material existence. But the fact that they were perceived, that they were remembered, is permanent. Even when the person who witnessed that memory has themselves passed on, the once-remembered perception of a moment is immutable. And so, those memories culminate in an ethereal plane, a location without location where any single moment that has been perceived can be remembered once again."
"And I'm here to 'remember' specific things? This is awfully unnatural."
"Think of it this way. Your father's gift allows him to peek into memories yet to be perceived, and decode them into tangible, although not fully coherent, words - his stories that earned him the nickname 'the Ebony Prophet', and later his riddles that led him when all other direction was lost. You, however, have been granted the opposite gift, thanks to your possession of me. I am a spirit of legends, of folklore and of memories, and with me as your companion you can use those memories to walk through the past."
Excalibur watched understanding dawn on his ward's face, and smiled again before continuing.
"Of course, you can't simply watch the history of every living thing that has ever been. You have no link to most of the universe. However, events in your past, and in the past of those who share your blood, those you can observe."
"And you want me to follow in the footsteps of my ancestors?"
"Not just your ancestors. Your immediate family, too, have stories that will help you make the right decision when the time comes."
"This decision... can you tell me anything about it?"
"Unfortunately, no. I am a spirit that watches over the past; I was simply given the task of being your guide through things have already come to be. Those who govern destiny and fate are often mysterious about it, and share very little unless they deem it necessary."
"They sound... inconvenient."
"They are the most powerful beings you will ever - or in fact, likely never - meet. Though they are... difficult, they deserve respect nonetheless."
"I understand, I think. So... what else will you show me?"
"Nothing more in this dream, though I will revisit you. I already asked you this memory's question, and you already answered."
"So I know not to grovel. I learned that on my own, without the aid of your dream."
"I had to test if you were actually paying attention to your own history. Now I know that you were, and that you understand what this place is, I can show you something new next we meet."
"So how do I leave?"
"You wake up."
And as Excalibur spoke those words, as if he had given it a command the Endless Desert vanished.
"It's a dream, my friend. You should know that from the start."
Ares was dressed in his bronze armour, surprisingly decorated in a dozen or so trinkets - trophies that he discarded months ago when he first left his clan. His outfit drew a stark contrast to the well-dressed man beside him, wearing a dull grey suit like those fashionable among the city-folk. He was slightly older than Ares himself, he acknowledged a few moments later, perhaps middle-aged with that touch of silver peeking beneath his jet black coif. His face was stone cold, hiding any emotion.
"I'm back..." Ares said as his environment came into view. A vast, orange desert, with a unique sword piercing the sand every few metres. He'd been here before, only once, before he spoke to Bellona the first time. He'd thought of it only as 'the Dreamscape', not needing another name to call it by after never revisiting.
"You weren't here for long. You weren't ready. But now, you approach a crossroads. The decision when you reach it will be yours to make, but you should at least be informed about it. That is why this place exists."
"Who are you?" Ares asked, slowly becoming aware of how little he understood about this place.
"I guess there's no harm in the truth. I am a spirit, of sorts, though unique in my presence. I inhabit your plane of reality only when I am called forth, when I am wielded, and otherwise pass back into this world. Most often, I take the form of a weapon, the sword you humans call 'Excalibur'. I guess... that would be my name, since I have no other. However, mine is a story for another day."
"You're aware that it's hard to believe you, yes?"
"Of course, though I'm sure you can give me the benefit of the doubt. This is a dream, after all. How can you call anything impossible?"
"This is true. Alright then, 'sword'; show me what you plan to show me."
"You're not going to ask where you are?"
"I'm in a dream. The dreamscape. Any more than that, I can find out when I need to."
"Satisfaction is a virtue... indeed, so is curiosity."
"Get on with it."
"Look. Yonder."
On a far off dune, two armies quickly approached one another. At the head of both was a towering figure, very similar in appearance from this distance.
"They are your ancestors, Ares. On the right, Hra Warhammer, the strongest man in the world. Opposing him is his brother, Gra Warbander, fair and just though somewhat weaker physically. They would battle many, many times over their unnaturally long lifespans, and spawn hundreds of tales of the exploits of both themselves and their warriors. No doubt you've heard of them?"
"Of course. The legend of Hra and Gra is passed down in every generation."
"Then you know the story of Hra's Hospitality?"
"When Gra was threatened by a power beyond his comprehension, he turned to his bitter rival, his brother, for aid. And out of honour, Hra offered it."
"You recently found yourself in need of hospitality from a descendant of Hra himself. You did not invoke this tale to the young Bellona Warhammer?"
"I was unworthy to represent my ancestor."
"Because you failed? Did Gra not fail when he first battled that power which bested him?"
Ares thought for a moment, and accepted the true answer.
"Because I grovelled. I came to Bellona with no honour in my heart, and I did not earn a place, rather begged for it."
"Good. You've learned something from your fall, at least. Now, look to the brothers again."
Ares spied a sword, held aloft by Gra Warbander. Daylight shone off its blade unnaturally, as if amplified by the steel.
"That's you, isn't it?"
"An incarnation of me, yes. Someone must have remembered I was here, at this moment, and so I exist in this dream."
This reignited the young warrior's curiosity.
"I take back my satisfaction. What is this place?"
"There are a few names for where we are, although it is not exactly a 'place'. Perhaps the name you would be familiar with would be 'The Endless Desert'."
"The afterlife? Am I dead?"
"No, no, nothing like that. It is the place where memories come to rest."
"Explain."
Excalibur smiled. He liked explaining. It meant Ares was paying attention.
"All people, all moments, all things, are fleeting. They eventually pass out of material existence. But the fact that they were perceived, that they were remembered, is permanent. Even when the person who witnessed that memory has themselves passed on, the once-remembered perception of a moment is immutable. And so, those memories culminate in an ethereal plane, a location without location where any single moment that has been perceived can be remembered once again."
"And I'm here to 'remember' specific things? This is awfully unnatural."
"Think of it this way. Your father's gift allows him to peek into memories yet to be perceived, and decode them into tangible, although not fully coherent, words - his stories that earned him the nickname 'the Ebony Prophet', and later his riddles that led him when all other direction was lost. You, however, have been granted the opposite gift, thanks to your possession of me. I am a spirit of legends, of folklore and of memories, and with me as your companion you can use those memories to walk through the past."
Excalibur watched understanding dawn on his ward's face, and smiled again before continuing.
"Of course, you can't simply watch the history of every living thing that has ever been. You have no link to most of the universe. However, events in your past, and in the past of those who share your blood, those you can observe."
"And you want me to follow in the footsteps of my ancestors?"
"Not just your ancestors. Your immediate family, too, have stories that will help you make the right decision when the time comes."
"This decision... can you tell me anything about it?"
"Unfortunately, no. I am a spirit that watches over the past; I was simply given the task of being your guide through things have already come to be. Those who govern destiny and fate are often mysterious about it, and share very little unless they deem it necessary."
"They sound... inconvenient."
"They are the most powerful beings you will ever - or in fact, likely never - meet. Though they are... difficult, they deserve respect nonetheless."
"I understand, I think. So... what else will you show me?"
"Nothing more in this dream, though I will revisit you. I already asked you this memory's question, and you already answered."
"So I know not to grovel. I learned that on my own, without the aid of your dream."
"I had to test if you were actually paying attention to your own history. Now I know that you were, and that you understand what this place is, I can show you something new next we meet."
"So how do I leave?"
"You wake up."
And as Excalibur spoke those words, as if he had given it a command the Endless Desert vanished.