2023-05-28 03:39:07"Do you believe you're quite ready for this, your majesty?" she inquired, making Lucien concerned about Morpheus. "You haven't navigated these seas in a while."
"Do you think I've forgotten how?" Morpheus questioned.
"No, but..." Lucien sighs.
In the midst of a pitch-black, calm sea with ominous clouds, they were both standing on a long, narrow wool bridge. The ebony seas seemed to go on forever, motionless and lifeless.
Morpheus, a tall figure with a regal bearing, stood with piercing eyes and flowing dark hair framing his features, looked out into the black sea.
"I can't ask The Fates for assistance without providing them with something in return," Morpheus said as he turned to face Lucien. "Nothing remains from the Dreaming." Morpheus had made up his mind.
He explained, "I have to gather my offering from other people's dreams."
"I understand. It's just that, in your absence, these waters have become darker, treacherous, unsafe," Lucien murmured worriedly.
"Morpheus advanced to the edge of the bridge, knelt down, and looked down at the water.
"These waters are as much a part of me as I am of them," Morpheus said, releasing his sand-filled hand. "Gregory's sacrifice won't go to waste." Putting sand on the quiet sea, he claimed.
As he poured the sand, shadows and light emerged. Morpheus discovered his own reflection in the water, smiling and sporting blazing eyes. In a horrifying form with luminous eyes.
The appearance of Morpheus' shadow in the sea astounded and scared him."
The hands of Morpheus and his image in the sea were extended in the direction of one another, Morpheus approaches the water's edge.
Morpheus was dragged deep into the sea by the reflection.
Sand and dim light floating together deep within the ocean.
"You were right, Lucien," Morpheus reflected to himself. "The Dreams and Nightmares no longer appear to recognize their master. I shall remind them and take what I need from them."
Morpheus took control of the situation in the water, reached out his hand as he gazed below, and saw a picture of farmland.
As his hand suddenly and massively grew in size on the farm, taking the bridge, Morpheus said to himself, "Since one meets The Fates at a crossroads, I find myself in the dreams of a Cambodian farmer."
"The Hanged Man represents surrender and sacrifice for the greater good.
The gallows come from a young Japanese cinephile, her head full of British horror films."
Morpheus was hanged and released into the water by soldiers in the dreams, making use of water for transportation.
"The river is stronger and moving more quickly than I remember," he thought to himself. "I need to concentrate, open my eyes, and see what The Fate requires."
Suddenly, he found himself in a room beside a serpent and its egg.
A symbol of transformations of life, death, and rebirth.
The serpent almost bit Morpheus when he squatted down next to it. Morpheus opened his coat and used it to encircle the serpent.
The egg was taken by Morpheus. "Now, it is up to The Fates," he remarked.
In a cold, dark, and historical area was Morpheus. "I, Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, summon The Fates... The Three-Who-Are-One," Morpheus summoned The Fates as a woman appeared.
Morpheus continued, "The One-Who-Is-Three. The Hecate." Morpheus laid a bow after the three women appeared.
Clotho - beginning of life, Lachesis - presence existence, Atropos - end of life.
They exist outside the bounds of time and space.
The Fates may appear as elderly women, each representing a different aspect of destiny, either old or maiden
"Morpheus, it's been a while. You look thin, love. Are you eating? Are you hungry?" Lachesis asked.
"He is, but not for food. Look at him. He wants something," Atropos declared.
"You've found me out. I do want something. I need your help," Morpheus said, using a calm voice.
"Help? Oh, listen to him, please. Like you helped us against Circe?" Atropos stated in a commanding tone.
Lachesis adds, "Circe is old business, sister-self."
"And he did bring nice things," replied Clotho.
As Morpheus offered Atropos a present, she extended her hand to accept it.
The serpent emerged from Morpheus' coat and into Lachesis' arms.
"Before opening her lips widely to allow the serpent to be swallowed by The Fates," Lachesis commanded, "You may ask us three things."
"After they had swallowed the serpent," Clotho stated, "And you get one answer from each of us."
Morpheus bowed briefly and said, "Thank you, ladies."
"My first question. I had a leather pouch filled with sand. Where is it?" Morpheus softly questioned.
The Fates gave him a vision that revealed who is holding his satchel.
It was purchased in London. Clotho stated in a heavy tone, "Last purchased by a magician by the name of Johanna Constantine.
Morpheus repeated, "Constantine," and thought to himself, "I knew a Constantine, but that was 300 years ago."
"You said last purchased? Does she still have the sand?" Out of curiosity, Morpheus enquired.
"Dream, you know better than that," Clotho softly chided him, calling him with a grin on her face. "You get one question, one answer," said Clotho, her voice heavy with echo.
Morpheus apologized.
He said, "My second question."
Lachesis encouraged, "Go on, dear."
He questioned, "My helm, what happened to it?"
He was given yet another vision on the magical usage of his helmet.
"It was given to a demon in exchange for an Amulet of Protection," Lachesis responded.
"To which demonic entity was it traded?" Morpheus inquired.
Lachesis smiled as she gave Morpheus the warning, "One question, one answer, love."
Morpheus asked his last question from Atropos.
"My ruby, who has it now?" he asked.
Showing Morpheus baby John and his mother, Ethel.
"Your gem was passed from a mother to a son," Atropos replied.
Morpheus asked for the location to find them but got The Fates angry.
"You have asked your questions!" Three-in-one said with voices heard in one face. Their faces kept switching on one body. Their voice echoed with thunder in their voice and vanished.
The Fates speak to Morpheus with a sense of wisdom and authority, their words carrying great weight and significance.
"Footsteps approaching."
After the confrontation with The Fates, Lucien picked up an egg that Morpheus had taken from The Dreaming and approached Morpheus where he was standing.
Lucien remarked, "My Lord, you didn't give it to The Fates."
"Because it was not meant for them," Morpheus replied as he turned to face Lucien.
Raindrops falling in a sandy cemetery. An arm emerged from the grave.
After killing Abel with a shovel, Cain buried him.
When Abel climbed out of the tomb and saw an egg in front of his grave, he excitedly carried it. Abel was drenched in rain and plastered with sand.
Abel calls Cain "brother."
"Thanks for burying me in such a shallow grave this time," Abel placed the egg on the table, "And for this."
"Who gave you an egg?" Cain was shocked.
"You did," Abel replied.
He was told by Cain that he didn't give him any eggs and that he had no reasons for doing so.
"As an apology for murdering me," Abel said.
"When have I ever apologized for murdering you?" Cain asked.
[Egg cracked.]
Excitement from both of them.
"Oh, Cain, look!" Abel gasped.
A baby dragon hatched.
"It's a baby gargoyle!" Abel's expression was filled with excitement.
After realizing that Morpheus had provided them with the egg, Cain was not impressed.
Cain was enraged, saying, "If he thinks leaving this creature on my doorstep makes up for Gregory."
"Do you believe Lord Morpheus is where he came from?" Abel asked.
"Who else, you moron?" Cain slandered.
Cain reassured himself, "He's trying to buy us off with a baby gargoyle."
Abel told Cain that Morpheus has noble intentions.
With the adorable newborn appearance, he temporarily lost control.
"He's pretty adorable, isn't he?" Cain gave the dragon praise.
"I believe I'll call him Irving," Abel said in reference to the dragon.
Cain repeated the name.
"You gully-guts, you can't give a gargoyle the name 'Irving'," said Cain.
"I like it," said Abel.
Cain muttered angrily. He took a book off the shelf. Abel was told that the dragon's name had to begin with a "G."
Instead, Abel opted to call it Girving.
A hot iron was pulled out by Cain out of frustration, and he used it to slay Abel.
The gargoyle was covered in blood.
"You don't pay attention, do you?" Ethel questioned as she went on. "Attractive males rarely do. They might not have to," she thought.
"Ethel, are you flirting with me?" he asked, turning to face her.
She replied, "You asked me where the tools were, and I told you I don't have them."
"Given your amazing accomplishment, I find that hard to believe," he continued.
She smiled.
She poured herself a glass of wine and asked, "Do you think that the only way a woman can be successful is by using magic? Supernatural and sexist. You really are a nightmare, aren't you?" Ethel became drawn to him.
Corinthians wasn't convinced the tools didn't help her in succeeding and keeping her from looking her age.
"Now who's flirting?" She said while sipping her wine.
They starred at each other as Ethel smiled.
"When I left Magnus, I traded the sand and helm for my life in America," she explained.
"And the ruby," he asked.
"The ruby. As you know, it does have the power to make Dreams come true, but it also makes Nightmares come true," her voice trembling. "My son, John, took the ruby from me, and then the ruby took John," she added.
"Hmm…. Well, where is it now?" He asked
"I don't know. Don't want to know," she replied.
Still not believing a word Ethel said, Corinthians took off his glasses, revealing his button eyes.
He cleaned his knife before going up to Ethel and asking her if he could take her eyes out so he could collect everything.
"You will regret this. I promise you," she said fearfully.
Corinthians scoffs, "what makes you think that," he asked.
She confronted him and held out an eye amulet towards Corinthians, saying, "I don't need Dream's tools; I have my own."
He sees it and screams as he gets broken into pieces and disappears.
After the scene, Ethel left in comfort.
Previous Chapter
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Constantine sat across from Sister Agnes in the quiet sanctuary of the church, the scent of burning incense lingering in the air. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows on the ancient stone walls as the nun observed Constantine with a calm but knowing gaze."So, what brings you back to the house of God, Constantine?" Sister Agnes asked, folding her hands on the table before her.Constantine smirked, tapping her fingers against the wooden surface. "I need a new job, Sister. Something to keep me busy. Any demons running amok? Possessions that need handling?"Sister Agnes let out a soft chuckle and shook her head. "No fresh cases of possession at the moment. Seems the devil’s taking a holiday."Constantine scoffed, leaning back in her chair. "That’s a first."The nun studied her for a moment before speaking again. "But, there are some individuals who have been seeking guidance. They’ve heard of you—your skills, your knowledge. They wish to learn."Constantine raised a skeptical eye
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The night was heavy with an eerie silence, but Constantine's sleep was anything but peaceful. Shadows curled along the edges of her room, whispering like ghosts against the walls. The Rune on her skin pulsed, a soft glow bleeding through the darkness, tying her to the prison she now kept sealed within her.Her dreams—or rather, her nightmares—began the same way each time. She stood in a void, the same void where she had faced the Emptiness. But here, it was different. The Rune no longer burned with power; it trembled like a dying ember. The prison wavered, its walls barely holding together, and beyond them, the formless mass of the Emptiness lurked, pressing against its boundaries with unseen force."You cannot hold me forever," a voice rasped, hollow and endless, echoing in the chasm of her mind. It was not a singular voice but many, an amalgamation of fears, regrets, and lost souls.Constantine clenched her fists, her breath sharp and ragged. "Yeah? Well, watch me."The Rune seared
Chapter 104
Morpheus stepped through the grand entrance of his throne room, his cloak billowing behind him like a shadow refusing to be left behind. Lucien stood waiting at the base of the dais, ever dutiful, with Matthew perched on her shoulder, his feathers ruffling slightly in anticipation.Lucien adjusted her glasses and gave a respectful nod. "You're back sooner than expected, my lord. I assume the return of Lyta, Daniel, Rose, and Jed went as planned?"Morpheus inclined his head. "Yes. They have returned to the waking world safely. The chapter of their time in the Dreaming is now closed—for now. But there are still matters that demand our attention."Lucien, ever perceptive, stepped forward. "What would you have me do?"Morpheus's expression was unreadable, his gaze drifting momentarily to the swirling mists beyond the throne room’s high windows. Then, he turned back to Lucien, his voice measured and commanding. "Gather the nightmares and the fairy tale creatures. I would address them."Mat
Chapter 103
Morpheus stood in the dim glow of Cain and Abel’s home, his dark presence casting long shadows across the uneven ground. The two brothers, as different as night and day, watched him expectantly. Abel fidgeted, rubbing his hands together nervously, while Cain crossed his arms, his ever-present scowl deepening."Cain. Abel," Morpheus began, his voice as steady and measured as ever. "You have long been the keepers of this land. Tell me, what would you wish for your home? I will grant you this, as a token of gratitude."Abel blinked, looking at his brother for guidance, but Cain simply scoffed. "Gratitude? That’s a rare gift coming from you, Dream Lord. But if you are offering, I won’t refuse."Abel cleared his throat, stepping forward cautiously. "I… I would love a garden. A real one. With flowers and maybe a pond," he said hesitantly, wringing his fingers. "Something peaceful. And—and a place for Goldie to play!" His face brightened as he mentioned his beloved gargoyle, who lay curled u
Chapter 102
As Morpheus stepped back into the Dreaming, the air shimmered around him, adjusting to his presence like a living thing recognizing its master. His long coat flowed behind him as he moved through the grand halls of his palace, the echoes of dreams whispering in the walls. Lucien stood near the great oak table, surrounded by books, scrolls, and floating symbols of pure knowledge. She had been waiting, as she always did, diligent and prepared. Nearby, perched on the back of a high-backed chair, Matthew the raven ruffled his feathers, his sharp black eyes tracking Morpheus’s movements. Lucien acknowledged his arrival with a nod. “You’ve returned.” Her voice was calm, but there was a subtle curiosity in her tone. “And Constantine?” Morpheus took a few steps toward the table, his expression unreadable. “She is where she must be. The Rune is a part of her now.” Matthew let out a low whistle. “Man, that’s rough. She didn’t ask for any of this.” “No,” Morpheus agreed, his gaze dista
