The Dreamfarer

38

╣Folco╟

He would have left his orchard the moment that Vivienne vanished if it weren't for the apple that rolled directly into his path. Curious, Folco knelt down and picked the fruit up. The instant he touched it, a black cloud rolled across its surface. He glanced around; was this a sign? He had learned not to ignore those more than ever recently. Had the blackbird somehow dropped the apple for him to find?

Sighing, Folco cupped the fruit in his hands like an offering to the skies. The blizzard had abated when Vivienne had left - which gave Folco a horrible feeling about her powers - but the sky was a dismal gray, and the ground was muddy, and his trees were lying in dying piles all around. It was a wasteland, a ruined dream, and it cut another hole in his heart.

He closed his eyes and willed himself into the dream that was being shown to him through the apple. He felt his stomach fly up into his throat as he dropped as if from a great height. This sensation always reminded him of the dreams that warlocks had often, as if they were falling and woke up before they hit the ground. For him, it was just what he experienced when falling into another person's subconscious mind.

The black cloud made up the sky above him, the length of it crackling with lightning that did not break free of its nimbostratus cage to strike towards the ground, though it seemed eager to do so. Folco looked down and saw that he was on the edge of a cliff; he stepped back involuntary, his heart skipping a beat as he realized how close he had come to falling. He knew that it would not truly harm him, but dreams felt too real as a Dreamfarer for him to give leaping off the edge of a cliff a try.

In the distance, he saw a single figure's outline. They were standing on the very edge of the precipice, gripping it with just their toes as they tilted their head up towards the storm. Folco's throat went dry just staring at the scene, and when the person's arms stretched out to their sides, he immediately lurched forward, desperately wishing for them to freeze, to not take that jump. It was a dream, but it was not one that Folco wanted to watch come to fruition. Not like this.

He figured that his mental intervention had worked, as the figure did not move another muscle. Folco willed himself to appear behind the person. He felt like it was his duty as a Dreamfarer to change this person's dream for the better. If someone was this disturbed in their subconsciousness, their conscious mind must really be strained or unstable. He was not only curious about who it was that was ready to throw themselves off a cliff in their dreams; he wanted to see if he could help them.

His worry turned into revulsion when he saw that the person was Caleb.

Resigned to the possibility that he might never get rid of this boy completely, Folco snapped his fingers, releasing the boy. Caleb whipped around too fast, and the arms that were stuck out to his sides suddenly became windmills, trying to propel his body back onto the cliff as he hung precariously over the edge. Folco just curled a finger towards himself, and the boy flew forward, collapsing onto his knees at Folco's feet.

"I'm sure you can clear up my confusion, Caleb," Folco began, making sure that the human could hear how disgusted he was just to be in such close proximity to him. "You see, I am many, many miles from the camp right now. I believe that it is out of my Dreamfaring range, and yet here I am, inside of your dream. Care to tell me how that came to be?"

Caleb glared up at him and struggled to his feet, brushing dirt from his knees. "I didn't invite you here," he spat.

Folco laughed softly, threateningly. "If you were more than a human, I might take you more seriously," he tauned. "Unfortunately, you mean nothing to me. I am the leader of the warlocks, I am a Dreamfarer, and I will do and go wherever I want."