The Obsidian Empire

Chapter 10: Nightmare

When Llwell wakes, he doesn't wake at all. Instead, he's left standing in a familiar yet foreign place. An image in his head of a palace he's never seen before outside of his dreams.

He's heard other people talk of their experiences with shade-conjured nightmares, and how most other people are typically pulled into a place that they have bonded to. Their homes, temples, serene forests. Places of safety they often visit. Places that are easy for shades to use to lower your guard.

But Llwell has only ever seen this elven palace. Perhaps he had read about it in Ildilyntra's study at some point, but that still doesn't seem like enough to qualify this as "his" place.

Regardless, he knows that if he's seeing this palace in his dream, that means a shade has targeted him and is looking to either kill, corrupt, or bargain with him. Figures this is how his first night in Tessiavar would go.

Slowly, he begins walking forward through the nightmare, ascending the gold and marble staircase that brings him deeper into the ancient palace. Each footstep echoes on seemingly forever, fading out but not away, each step being left behind the further he gets.

His hand starts to burn so he tightens it into a fist, but he keeps going.

Dark whispers surround his head but it's all too jumbled and quiet to hear. He can't even tell what language it is. Just nothing being whispered a thousand times. Then only one voice is able to drown out the rest.

"Pacing. Patiently waiting for the prey to relieve the prize they seek. Power is all it wants, feeding on the feelings of its followers. Their words of praise raise it higher, too high to reach. Wrong. He is wrong."

"Etho?" Llwell glances around when he hears his voice, followed by a faintly ringing bell.

Sitting atop a golden banister at the top of the stairs is Etho with his head down and his legs lightly swaying as he rocks himself back and forth, fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves. "Angry, alert, agitated after your actions since the night you met him. Artegal. The magister of old once saw you as a game. A plaything, puppet meets master, masking truth behind lies that smile. But twice now he has fallen by your hand. The game is gone and the chase becomes a challenge," Etho timidly lifts his head to meet his gaze.

"And Vanities hate being challenged."

Llwell sighs and approaches the boy while also continuing his cautious glancing around the empty halls. "If Artegal brought me here, he must have a reason. Do you know where he is?" he asks the boy, getting him to halt his rocking and swaying and the fidgeting speeds up. Etho lowers his head again, but falls silent.

Llwell examines him through narrowed eyes. Etho is often fidgety and timid, but it's rare for him to be silent in a conversation. The only times Llwell knows Etho to be quiet is when he's fighting in order to gain the advantage on their enemy. For him to be silent now only adds a layer of question to the ones that are already festering in Llwell's mind.

"Etho? Do you know where he is or not? It's alright if you don't—"

"Run," Etho says abruptly and Llwell shuts his mouth to eye him quizzically as the boy keeps talking. "Furious flames burn out the fear you feel. Again and again he seethes every time you succeed. Shadows are fed as your light grows and grows until eventually it is snuffed out, stolen, severed. Your shadows drive him back, but only to make his darker," the boy says shakily before resuming his sporadic rocking.

Llwell cocks a brow. He can't tell if this is normal cautious Etho behavior or if it's different or worse. Why would it be worse? As Etho said, Llwell has defeated Artegal twice now. Once in Clalleovion and again in Ayiolas. How could now be any different? Just because they're in Tessiavar?