A Tale of Fantastical Dreams
Listen now, O Basin of Life, and hear an epic to be retold through the ages! Sung of by the bards! Obsessed over by scholars! Pondered by the great thinkers of our time! And all as told by this humble, dashing, ageless, most insightful vessel of truth with eyes that shine like the azure seas of… Oh yes, but back to our tale.
Our story begins within the Great Forests of the Basin, both as beautiful as they are savage, with warriors that will crush all unfortunate intruders to dust in offering to their Great and Wild Spirits. It is here that mortals first noticed something was amiss, for fae came to both communes acting in a peculiar manner even for them: they could not seem to stay awake, falling to sleep while their dreams manifested in reality around them. But naught is wrong, said Maeve, Queen of the Fae: Fae dreams are powerful, but fae sleep! So thus she waved them away.
But hardly a month had passed before these same effects manifested dramatically in two of their Greatest Great Spirits. The Mighty Crow and Noble White Hart both fell into an unnatural slumber that neither could wake from. And more dramatically still, the dreams came into the waking world as monstrosities within both Forests, assaulting all they crossed paths with. Oh the blood that flowed! If there had been more bloodshed, perhaps it would have been even more dramatic! But alas.
These forest folk, in tune with the subtle fluctuations of Nature as they are, did listen to the wind, and the trees, and even the little squirrels to find their way to the court of Queen Maeve, heart of Faethorn, and indeed, all fae. Upon their arrival, they found the Maeve entertaining a dracnari of obvious refinement: his voluminous robes crafted from the finest of silks; his scales, gleaming like precious sapphire; his wit – unmatched. The communes presented their plight to the Queen, and with very, very few hints from her dashing guest discerned that the Spirits’ dreams had been invaded by dragons. And what surprise, the Queen’s guest was indeed dragon himself! In awe and wonder, in respectful silence, in fear and prostration, the forestals watched as he manifested but a glimpse of his true, overwhelming form for those gathered – magnificent claws sharper than steel, scales like gleaming sapphires, eyes the deepest of… Oh yes, we’ve covered all that.
The dreams of spirits are a powerful thing, as the Maeve said truly, even more so when tangled up with the dreams of dragons. The path forward was clear. Their wise and wonderful guide did not even need to suggest it to those gathered: the communes would have to dive into the Dreaming and untangle the dreams of spirit and dragon. And, of course, their dashing and clever counsellor had the knowledge to help them do as much, and he imparted that wisdom to a representative of each forest. And here we must pause in our tale, to speak of an even more exciting tale: One of the Great Tragedies of our Age – the Forbidden Romance of Miakoda, Maiden of the Moonhart and Brennan Stormcrow. I can see it now!
[The writing becomes jumbled here, so enthusastic is the writer that only a few phrases can be read such as “a love that could never be” and “he melted at the sight of her, indeed, part of his face slid off then and there”]But surely, the great writers of the Basin will be writing for decades to come on that matter! Armed with this knowledge, Brennan and Miakoda helped each of their communes build totems infused with a magic that could transport even those unskilled in the art of Dreamweaving into the distant reaches of the Dreaming. In the Serenwilde, Elexia, Pysynne, Jolanthe, Selenity, Alixia, and Luboo worked to gather dream motes from the monstrosities and to unravel the nightmare of White Hart and a dragon within a burning forest. In Glomdoring, Rancoura, Aurik, Xenthos, Aleyah, Esei, Rhenna, and Siam did the same for Crow and a dragon in a scene of carnage. Once untangled, their Spirits did wake, but this was not the end of the plight of the communes.
In barely another month, the same affliction struck. This time, however, it was the Great Lady Fae of the communes – Mother Moon and Mother Night. They returned to the Maeve, but this time, it was found the totems of the previous month would be of no help. Mother Moon and Mother Night had slipped into even deeper reaches of the Dreaming, and not even the clever magics of the fabulous ‘dracnari’ could carry the mortals so far, or at least, he could not be found to offer more wisdom.
Alas! Alack! What is to be done? The forests were in dire straits, and all despaired!!
Seeing no other option, the brave Queen Maeve, Heart of Faethorn and the Collective of All Fae, did decree that she would pierce the deepest depths of the Dreaming herself and expel any who dared to intrude upon the dreams of the Spirits.
So the honourable Queen, who had so stolidly held off against the tide of sleep, allow herself to be swept into the Dreaming of her own accord.
But she was not alone, no! She was supported by a majority of the Glomdoring: Rhenna, Esri, Afollia, Aleyah, Siam, Esei, Xenthos, Aurik, Kyalrhin, Evette and Freja. And from Serenwilde she had the brave support of Jolanthe and Luboo, who represented the northern woods in the face of their enemies, who did not strike them down. For after all, this was a tragedy of both communes, was it not? Such dramatic tension! Such tear-worthy unity, however brief!
So the Maeve walked in the Dreaming, guided by the gathered forest folk who fought off waves of newer, more frightening monstrosities as they helped guide her through winding paths of the sleeping realms. They knew no fear! Indeed, they insisted that the Queen of the Fae explore every dead end so that they could valiantly slay any lingering monstrosities that lingered! All shall quake at their might thus displayed!
Upon finally reaching the dreams of Moon and Night, the Maeve, Queen of the Fae, used her great power, invested in her by the Gods themselves, to cast out the dreaming dragons and untangle the Spirits’ dreams. The detritus pushed into the waking world took the form of a massive behemoth: with scales as dark as night and as brilliant as moon, with feathers as sleek as Crow’s and as horns as sharp as Hart’s, with- well, you get the idea… In short, the guardians from the forests made easy work of the beast, so great was their fury! (Though I really would have liked more bloodshed. So much more exciting that way. Ah well!) And with the behemoth destroyed, the Spirits and all fae returned to their normal waking selves.
Indeed, the final blow was so powerful that it probably woke the dragons from their dreaming entirely; at least that’s what that fabulous ‘dracnari’ said. What a slap on their dreaming faces! What a beautiful conclusion for the forests, born of fragile unity that will collapse again! And such potential tragic love… such romance!
And though normalcy has returned to the Great Forests, so many questions remain:
Why did the dragon dreamers wander into the dreams of the Great Spirits?
Where are these dragons now, and if they have awakened, what will they do next?
Who is the dashing, wise, dazzling and awe-inspiring dragon who walks as a dracnari? Whence did he come?
Alas, I am afraid, these questions are for another tale. Until then, O Basin of Life…
Signed, the Lord of Obscure Dreams
Famed author of ‘A Passion Moste Wilde and Wyrd’
Most Beautiful Of All The Dragons
Also Best Dressed
Lord of Ultimate Fabulousness
Etc.