He had the dream again. The dream that haunted him. It stuck with him, clinging to the forefront of his mind.
He rolled over in his bed, grasping his head.
"That is quite the dream, Kris" a voice said. Kris, still in bed shot a look over to the corner of the room. An elderly woman, looking to be pushing two hundred sat there, hands clasped and staring. Her nose drooped to a point where one would mistaken it for a beak.
"What's your read on it?," Kris asked.
The woman stammered as she attempted to explain it.
"It was challenging to read another Oneiromancers dream, with all the defenses and mental traps laid about in your mind. I was able to get most of the pieces of what you dreamt," she started. "You say this happens the last week in every month?"
Kris nodded. He reached for a small band on the nightstand. He sat up pulling his curly black hair into a ponytail.
"Every single month," Kris said.
The woman shook her head.
"The message is undeniable. It is clear for me, but you said it wasn't too clear for you?," she asked.
"It was clear for me, but I need your interpretation before I say anything," Kris replied swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
"Understood. You will be visited by a spectre, and you will become Blessed," she said. Kris's jaw tightened, as he nodded.
"My same thought," he said.
"We could be wrong though, we could be misreading something or not seeing the entire picture," she said, trying to encourage.
Impossible! Kris had worked as Oneiromancer for too long just to throw the idea of 'misreading' a dream. This woman's answer was the same as all the others Kris went to. He would become Blessed.
He stood, crossing over to the doorway for his coat and boots.
"And that's that?," the woman asked.
"Certainly is. You already have your silver. I got to go," Kris replied as he fumbled his left boot.
He was able to put his mind at ease, knowing that he wasn't stricken with madness, which was VERY common for Oneiromancers. Too much time in the Dreamscape can warp a sane mind.
Now he was upset and distressed about this blessing.
"One fear replaces another," Kris thought exiting the Inn. The small town was situated in a swamp. Croaking frogs and screeching insects were a constant. If he had to naturally sleep, he would have been unable too. Too much noise.
The fog circled the edges of the town. The buildings that were scattered about, held up on thick wooden beams lifting them a few inches to a few feet off the ground. A few citizens milled about, talking to merchants or doing some simple labor.
Kris's dream had been reviewed by six of the best Oneiromancers in the known kingdom, all giving him the same reading on his dream.
Kris was confident that a drink of ale would assist in the unpacking of his thoughts. It also helped him forget too. That was helpful depending on the day. If he was going to do that however, he required coin.
It was a real tragedy that the Oneiromancers didn't offer him the reading for free. He was one of them, why couldn't they just help a fellow mancer out?
Well, the only Oneiromancer that knew he was one was the one who just interpreted his dream. He got tired from explaining why it was so complicated to navigate his mind with excuses and deflection. The rest of them thought he was just a regular person.
A regular man with an iron clad mind.
He was certain most of them figured it out. They never spoke on it though. It was certainly better that way.
Drumming up some coin wouldn't take long. Kris found himself wandering to the local board. Most towns had these, boards where citizens posted their concerns, tasks, and needs that working people could complete.
Kris saw a few posts about rabid monsters needing culled, then a few more requesting protection as they traveled to another town.
His fingers sorted them until he found the one he needed.
"Sleepless, need Oneiromancer," it said it bold black ink. He looked it over.
"Why didn't she take this? She lives here for Goddess sake," he thought, but her lack of motivation gave Kris his meal ticket. He looked it over.
Then he placed the pieces together on why she didn't take it.
It was a request from the mayor of the town. Oneiromancers had little trouble with peasants having their dreams read. Officials in power however, that was a different tale. There would be steps upon steps of secrecy and signing of documents. The pay was good in most instances, but was it worth the headache?
Frankly, it was a pain, but Kris wanted food and ale. That wasn't entirely accurate. He did want food, but needed the ale. The paper seemed a better quality that the other board posts. It gave directions to the Mayors house, which was a building sat stop a hill overlooking the village. It was hard to miss.
Kris continued to read as he found his way to the Mayors home. The walk wasn't too long, just a bit confusing with navigating some of the streets. The fog and swampy environment made it difficult to have a clear vision of everything.
The house was covered in moss and vines, hanging down in front of windows.
A few of the other houses in town had the same problem, but to the people it didn't seem like a problem.
He raised his hand to knock on the door, and after a brief pause he knocked.
Nothing.
He knocked again.
He could now hear shuffling and movement from within.
The door swung open and Kris was greeted by a tall gentleman dressed in formal attire. A pressed coat with gold buttons and only the most elegant of designs on it.
"Can I help you sir?" the man asked. Kris revealed a pendant.
"I am an Oneiromancer. I heard you needed one?" Kris said.
"Oh yes! Lord Oneiromancer please come in!" the man said with excitement in his voice. Kris entered the lobby of the home. He looked around putting the pendant away.
It was clear the Mayor was a wealthy man. Vases were displayed proudly, with ornate furniture creating a cozy atmosphere surprisingly.
"Our Mayor Barthol has been stricken by some type of illness or something. He is unable to sleep, and I fear for his health," the man explained.
Kris nodded as he still took in the room.
"We may be a small town, but it still needs its Mayor," the man continued.
"Where is he? I need half of the payment up front," Kris said rolling up his sleeves.
"Upfront?" the man questioned.
"Correct. And the listing was increased from two hundred silver to three hundred I see. It must have been posted for a while to hike the price. A hundred fifty now, the rest later," Kris explained. The man brought his hand to his chin and thought.
"Very well," he said pulling out a pouch and counting out the correct number of silver.
"Any documents you want me to sign?" Kris asked.
"Don't fret that. Just help Major Barthol Lord Oneiromancer," the man said with some finality.
Kris took the money as the man pointed to a doorway in the corner of the room. He approached the door. Kris knocked a few times as he announced that he was a Oneriomancer.
The door slowly opened, revealing a hunched over man, with bloodshot eyes and bags the size of grain sacks under his eyes.
"Yes?" the man asked.
"I heard you were looking for an Oneriomancer?" Kris said. The man's eyes widened, and immediately he flung the door open and welcomed him in. Kris entered into the room and noticed how clean it was.
It smelled of mint and lavender.
Incense could be seen burning in the corner, near a small bed.
"You are real aren't you? Aren't you?," the man asked. Kris looked over.
"Last I knew I was. My name is Kris, and I need to be told everything about your dreams. Every detail you remember," Kris said. The man took a seat and nodded, folding his hands in front of him.
"I can't remember when I sleep fully. It's hard to mayor a town, and deal with this. I don't even know what I am to do in this situation. I haven't seen the people, I've been pushing things off. I feel like I am going mad," he said as every word and thought fell from his mouth.
"Sir, the dream," Kris said refocusing the man.
"Oh yes, that! You see I find myself in a meadow. Right outside of town. It's humid, and my head hurts. In the dream, but it also hurts now. Three things appear, I don't know what they are, but they look terrifying. Monsters or creatures? Demons, maybe. They start to tear me apart. Claws pulling flesh, teeth biting and I feel it. I feel it all"!
Kris nodded, "Is that it"?
"No, no, no. I am still alive for some reason, and the flesh starts to repair itself, my body puts itself back together. After that some faceless villagers charge me, stabbing me with pitchforks. When I think I am about to die, I heal again and the process continues between the two," the man said. He ran his fingers through his white wispy hair.
"Maybe he isn't like most nobility. Interesting," Kris thought as the man continued to stare.
Kris also noted that they were willing to forgo the document signing. This must have been going on for quite a while. It was still strange.
" Alright lay down and we can get started," Kris said. It took the man a few moments to get situated in his bed. It looked as if he was almost afraid of the bed.
Kris reached into his jacket and revealed a pendant. It hung by a string and swung back and forth as Kris brought it closer to the man. He was laying down, but his eyes followed it.
"Good, that's right. Rest your eyes. Let me see this dream," Kris said in a hushed tone. The symbol on the pendant glowed a vibrant green. The light danced about around the pendant as some sparks floated toward the man. There was no slow descent into sleep, with Barthol, it was almost immediate. Barthol, was fast asleep.
It would take a little time for Barthol to enter his Dreamscape. Once he did though, that was the cue for Kris. It was characterized by a tossing and turning once whatever it was started.
Barthol started to toss and turn
"That was quick," he thought. "It must be bad".
Kris sat down, and looked over to the man. He closed his eyes, and he entered Barthols Dreamscape with pendant in hand
Entering a dreamscape was an odd feeling. It felt as if the front of your head was being aggressively pulled toward the person sleeping, but then instead of your body moving, your spirits moves, exiting the body and shaping the dream into a physical plane of existence. This was how the ones gifted with this power did their Oneiromancy.
It was humid. Very humid. Usually temperatures and things of the sort weren't felt in dreams, but it was clear in this dream. He started to sweat almost instantly.
"What is this," Kris thought as he walked over to find three creatures, tearing apart Barthol. He shouted and screamed and the sounds were authentic. Kris was simply an observer, but he could see the creatures.
"Those are Tetherlings," Kris said aloud. "This isn't a premonition or a recurring bad dream, this man is cursed".
The Tetherlings had strange shapes but it was difficult to make sense of them in dreams. They were tall looming shapes, but no defined form. Looking at them insighted fear within oneself, but you weren't sure WHAT you were afraid of.
Kris often spoke aloud in dreams. The owner of the Dreamscape couldn't hear him and it helped organize his thoughts along with prolonging the descent into madness.
"Who around here even knows how to use a Tetherling curse," Kris said walking closer. It was now time for the villagers turn, as they rushed in, almost as if from nowhere and started to stab him with pitchforks. Each stab making a wet popping noise.
"Clearly a villager did it, but which one," Kris said.
He didn't know any of the villagers, but what Kris could do would be to break the curse.
Tetherlings were bound to hexed objects. This gave them power, and the objects were always nearby the person who was cursed. It was probably in the mans room. Destroying that would break the curse, but would probably bring a Tetherling.
Kris let out an annoyed sigh. He left his sword back at the Inn. He planned on retrieving it after his meal. He had a dagger on hand, so that would have to do.
"I think I got the picture," Kris said. With that thought, Kris returned to his body and left the Dreamscape. His eyes shot open.
Kris immediately began to snoop. He opened wardrobes and drawers sifting through Barthols pbelongings. He was looking for some kind of small idol or totem.
He got on his hands and knees, looking under Barthols bed. He found it. It was held together with twine, and was made from some bone, sticks, and something that resembled hair.
Kris pulled it out, and could feel the raw energy. It vibrated, but also had a pulse, like a heartbeat.
"Nasty things," he said snapping it in half. The bone was thin, so it splintered. Barthol immediately jolted in his sleep. His tossing and turning stopped, and he was motionless. He still drew breath and looked almost peaceful. Kris pulled his dagger out of the sheath on his belt.
Everything grew unnaturally still. Suddenly Barthol convulsed, his chest rising into the air as he gasped. The room became unnaturally dark.
"Hhhhuman ruining allllllll the fuuuun," a scratchy, dry voice said. It was here now.
"Tetherling I have no quarrel with you. Detach and be on your way," Kris said as he looked around the room.
Tetherlings were tall, and lanky with long boney fingers and disfigured looks and features. They could hide in plain sight, and you would only see one if you were looking for it.
He spotted it. It loomed in the corner. It's few strands of wispy hair hanging in front of its face.
"He is mmmmmine. It wasssssas a giiiiiiiift," the Tetherling said. It held out certain words as it ended it's sentences with clicks and chatters that of a cicada.
"You were summoned as a curse. Nothing more. I broke the hexed object, now leave peacefully or I WILL use force," Kris said holding up his dagger. The creature stood for a moment, then took a step forward.
"Stuuuuuuuupid man! Stupid, stupid, STUPID," it shouted.
"Last chance," Kris said crouching slightly. The creature continued to stare, making clicks.
"Ffffiiiinne," it said. The creature slowly, and unceremoniously faded, into the shadow.
Tetherlings could be dangerous, but also intimidated. They enjoyed torture and if they were dead, they couldn't torture, so usually they would back down if instigated.
Scaring Tetherlings was actually rather easy considering what they COULD do to a person.
Kris let out a sigh of relief as normality returned to the space. It no longer felt strange, and no longer felt unnatural.
Barthol gasped, as he shot up in his bed. He continues to breathe heavily. The man shot a look to Kris.
"It was a Tetherling," Kris said.
"A what?," Barthol asked between breaths.
"Tetherlings are creatures that love to torture, but only in the mind. Not sure why, but someone decided to put this curse on you. They have little hexed objects that bind the curse to a person," Kris said showing Barthol the object he broke. The pieces sat motionless in his hand. The Mayor looking it over, eyes studying the pieces.
"I assume you being a Mayor and all, you probably have enemies," Kris said.
"I don't think I do? I try to be a good mayor, I try," Barthol said.
Kris nodded slowly.
"Well, that's it. I will take my silver and go," he said. He approached the doorway, but he stopped for a moment and placed his hand on the doorway. The wooden door frame was a dark brown. He slowly rubbed his hand upward on it.
"Everything alright Lord Oneiromancer?" Barthol asked tilting his head.
Kris sighed. It was a sigh of frustration.
"Two things tipped me off. One, that these nobility types didn't have me so paperwork so I wouldn't talk about what I saw to others unless I want an execution, and Two, Mayors ALWAYS have enemies. Also, you didn't get the feel of the wood right. It's very hard to do," Kris explained.
Everything started to melt around him. The colors faded as tables, wardrobes and walls lost detail and evaporated.
"Clever!" a voice said as it echoed in the new vast white expanse.
"I will also add that this day went WAY too well!" Kris shouted as he awoke.