Delirium/Delusion's Realm

The mists curled around the rigid form, the swirling clouds of grey streaked with the occasional glowing orange. Light seemed to be descending upon the realm again. At least, if it could be called light--it looked rather more like a jumble of colors that were trying to find their way into one shape. "In prime of years, when I was young," a voice beside him began to sing, the tune broken, words half forgotten, "I took delight in youthful joys--Liriel, d'you remember the words?"

"I've never heard that song in all my years," Liriel snapped, sitting up.

Beside him sat Hazri, his legs crossed, his hands in his lap, trying his hardest to remember the words. The white eyes squinted with the effort, and then, content not to know, he shrugged and moved onto the next song. He was quite upside down. "There was a ship that sailed all on the Lowland sea, and the name of our ship was the Golden Vanity...."

The more composed of the two pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing as brilliant colors began to paint the already confusing panorama. He had nearly gotten something! Blast that pathetic creature and his singing. A moment's concentration returned the swirling mists to their blackened state, and Liriel stood, intent. He wasn't quite sure on what yet--no, that was Hazri talking, mad Hazri with his forgotten songs. Liriel knew precisely where he was going, what he was doing.

He took a few steps and parted the mists, watching through the newly created portal as the beast flew from its nest. In the back of his mind, he cursed; he remembered this part, ever so vaguely, and though he did not know what would happen next, he was well aware that it did not bode well. The other gods were up to mischief.

Liriel stood back, crossing his arms, and watched as the boy's dream began to unfold.

It was dark, not an uncommon way for a dream to begin, with the faintest of lights at the end of what appeared to be a very long path. If nothing else, the kid wasn't going to get any compliments for originality; neither was the bringer of his dream. Whomever had summoned Ydgaeran hadn't been very imaginative. As a matter of fact, had it not been for the fact that Lehel was on his side, Liriel might have assumed that he was the one with his hands in this particular slice of astral pie. The dream began to form, winding through the loops of smoke to reveal itself without the usual mask that things in his realm took.

At first, all he could see was a clearing.

It wasn't especially large, nor was it especially beautiful, but he got the feeling that it was familiar to the boy, some place very close to his heart. At the center of this clearing was a ball of light, likely something he had dreamed up to protect himself from the truth. And a voice--the voice of Heaven, the voices of each of the gods woven together in unison. It spoke to him. It called him by name. Bailey Jenkins.

The thing at the center of the clearing, whatever it was, charged him with a task; a quest to the forgotten city of Serna. "Some of our number have grown lax in their duties," explained the voice, shallower, less resonant than he had heard it before. "The balance of the world depends upon the service of the gods, and they are failing. Travel northward to Muiren; you will meet others there who have been visited by the dream beast." The creature came into view, rearing its draconic head with an expression of recognition.

"He is your guide," the light said finally, and then, began to fade.

Liriel's face twitched slightly. Replacing any god--why, that was forbidden! Right? He supposed there hadn't been a law against it, necessarily, but they had been banned from fighting amongst themselves, and this was close enough! Incensed by this new development, he pushed up his sleeves and dove through the portal.

On Braesorn, an infinite number of miles below the Heavens, Bailey Jenkins woke with a start.

"Then his messmates drew him up, but on the deck he died...." sang Hazri, alone in the fading dark.