Nightmare (a Dream smp/ Passerine Fanfic)

Chapter 2

"I- I- wha- Father-" Wilbur stuttered. In front of him was an enormous room, larger than the throne room itself. The room was decorated with thousands of bookshelves, and all sorts of what seemed like ancient text carved into the pillars supporting the ceiling. None of that compared to what was in the middle. A colossal glowing white stone stood towering over everything, and the stone seemed to be floating. Wilbur started, not knowing what to say, not knowing if he even was seeing things right, or if he was going crazy.

"Wilbur." Philza put his hands on his son's shoulders. "This is a lot of exposure. And there is a lot to say." Philza sighed. "To hell with it all. You. You are- you are gifted, Wilbur. You are as gifted as I am."

"Gifted?" WIlbur breathed. His breath showed, and now he realized the room was freezing cold.

"Yes, gifted. Gifted with something that cannot be bought. I sensed it in you back when... back when you were born. I could see it in your eyes."

Wilbur stepped back. He was so confused, so bewildered. He wondered if his father was going crazy. What was this room, the godstone? What in the world was his father talking about?

"What- what is this gift?" Was he talking about Wilbur's bow skills?

"It is... it is the gift of godship. It is... power. True power. The godstone will show you what your power's form shall take. I remember when I was taken to this place- so long ago- I stepped up to the godstone. It showed me memories. Many memories, my happiness and my suffering. But it made me see what stood out. And it gave me wings. To symbolize my freedom. And like all other gods, the ability to never die." Wilbur of course knew his father had wings, but he always told them it was from an eternal spell when he was hunting down witches. "Wilbur I... I messed up, like my father had. Like the gods of this kingdom before me had. I only saw my mistakes after I couldn't take them back. I started being called to many people, the Angel of Death. I used my wings for violence. Murder. I thought I was doing the right thing... protecting my kingdom... but this is not what the godstone had wanted my path to be. The godstone wanted me to use the caring part of my soul and use flight for good. Not for my power-hungry voices." Philza stopped for a second to see how Wilbur was holding up with the information.

"There were books about this. About the gods. About new gods. About the godstone." Wilbur said, remembering. "But they were all fantasy! How- What do you mean by voices?" Wilbur asked quietly, hardly wanting to know the answer.

"Like all the other gods, my contact with the godstone did not just give me good things. It gave me... the voice of an evil spirit. Wilbur, think back to your dreams. You said something about a villain who always won."

Wilbur forced himself to delve into his memories. Surprisingly, his memories were clearer than the castle's lakes. Wilbur saw the villain. His cackling smile. His axe forged from the fiery pits of hell. His soul full of nothing but evil. Philza grabbed his son's shoulder sternly to bring him back. Wilbur gasped as his consciousness returned. He felt oddly light, as if a huge weight was just pushed off of his chest.

"Memories are clear as day when in presence of the Godstone. I assume you saw him?"

"Yes... I saw details I wasn't even able to see in my dreams."

"The villain in your 'stories'... He will become the voices. With great power comes great responsibility and control. Don't let him get to you. No matter how loud they scream, no matter how good it feels to give in. Don't." Philza sighed. "I- I don't expect you to follow what I have just said. The voices... Well, nobody has ever been able to resist their calls. That is why another generation is given a chance to become a god, because the past failed."