In Dreams I Lie

Prologue (Please judge this as a first chapter)

As we write the tale anew.

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He stirred in his sleep, rustling the chain that bound him to the scumy, sewage and ash encrusted wall. With each shallow breath that forced itself through his chest, the mass of cornsilk hair atop his head fluttered, then set back down across his closed eyes once more. He winced, even alseep as he was, every tim the skin and bones of his chest moved. Pearls of dark red liquid dripped to the floor, one after the other. The drops came from a gash bellow his bags, a cut the length of an index finger that shot straight down to his scull. The wound had not begun to scab yet. Every so often, a drop would land on his eyelashes, then run from there, staining paper of his skin a deep, ruddy crimson, until it landed on the scaps of fabric that were left of his shirt, and ballon outwards, the linen absorbing the liquid as it came. 

Although one could not tell from his cramped, painful movements, his mind was far away from the dungeons in which he lay. While his body twisted and writhed from the pain of the chains that dug into his skin and he could not rest his palms on the ground, covered as they were with lash marks and blisters, his mind hovered far away, past the fortress walls, past the borders of his kingdom, and by the hospital bed of a woman. 

The room in his mind's eye bustled with activity, midwives rushing to and fro, carrying baskets of herbs and charms above their heads, soldiers and spies grasping swords at every entrance, and of course, the epicenter of the attention, the woman in the bed, and her husband, holding her hand while she screamed. As if to mimic her mother's cries, a newborn squalled in the arms of a nursemaid, face pitted and lined with age.

"The second one's coming!"

He smiled, or the portion of his conciousness that had escaped oh so briefly to watch the scene did. Of course they were. That was why he had chosen this place as a refuge. 

Shouts resounded across the room, and the furious movements of the peopel grew all the more hurried.  A servant removed the crown from the woman's head, and readied the bed. The woman's face looked stripped of color, normally robustly tan skin bordering on pallid and almost a delicate green. The man leand over and murmured to her, maybe words of encouragement or kindness. She screamed again, and so did he, the waking world finally ensaring him in it's grasp. 

The scene began to swim before his eyes as they opened, and the pain from his head returned. 

"I did not expect you to come to me."

"Watching them, are you?"

"It's better than staying within the walls of your castle, Brother."

The one who had just entered through the barred doors smirked, and passed his eyes over the prone body of his twin. In stark contrast, he dress in rich black velvet cloths, decorated with brocades and leathers. Although his hands too were stained with red, it was not his. With careful precision, he drew his claymore from the golden belt around his waist. 

"We shall see."

He nodded, closing his eyes again. After a pause he spoke. "Are you afraid?"

The other scoffed. "After tonight there will be no problems. I though you might like to see me before I solidified my hold on the kingdom."

"Then you were wrong." 

"Well, then I better get on my way." The richly dressed figure spun to leave, black mists rising from the palm of his hands. 

"Nikolai!"

His lips curled back in a disgusted snarl, and he whipped his claymore towards his twin. "Yes?"

"You will fail." Blood bubbled from his lips, staining the floor with each word. "No matter what you try, you will not be able to control the tides of history."

"Again, we shall see." 

He was alone again, only the wounds and a faint trail of blackened mist to keep him company. A stab sent pain racing through his gut, but no cut followed. A red tinged tear fell. One of the children was gone, replaced by another baby. Maybe his brother would succeed after all. Maybe all the fighting, all the running had finally come to an end. He could feel, as, he knew, could his brother, that there was one child left, yet to be born. Her life force burned within his chest, hesitant, not having yet entered the world. But the damage was arleady done. The set would not be complete. 

This time, as Nikolai appeared before him and flung the body of a baby at his feet, he did not speak. 

"I win-" 

Light blazed from he who was bound, in chains, just as darkness oozed from the body of the other. Both magics sealed together, forming the bond for the next set.

His eyes flew open. "No, Nikolai. You have lost. She has both. The princess was given her sisters magic just as you drove your sword downward. It is their turn to rewrite the years."