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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The King of Dreams Chapter 9
Girving, the dragon, was approaching Abel's tomb, where Cain had laid him to rest. As soon as Abel spotted the newborn dragon, Abel dug himself out of the tomb. "Hello Girving, I mean Goldy," Abel greeted the dragon after sitting down. "For Cain's sake, I'll name you Goldy, but you'll always be Girving to me," Abel said to the dragon. Girving speaking to Abel in dragon language, Girving the dragon. "He's not to blame; he can't help it." Abel tries to explain to Girving why Cain keeps murdering and burying him every time he gets angry: "It's who he is, it's who we are." "First killer, first casualty. This is our story," he said."Do you even understand what a story is?" Girving was questioned by Abel." Should I tell you?" As he began his narrative, Abel grinned and adjusted his seat. "It's a secret story," he said. "It's a story of two brothers who were good to one another and who loved one other very, very much. Nice and compassionate. And...and brotherly, you know?" As he concl
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The King of Dreams Chapter 11
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Chapter 69
Morpheus stood at the gates of the Dreaming, his long cloak billowing slightly in the ethereal wind. Perched upon his shoulder, Matthew the Raven flapped his wings restlessly, sensing the weight of the journey ahead. The decision had been made—Morpheus would go to Hell.“You sure about this, boss?” Matthew asked, cocking his head. “I mean, it’s not exactly a friendly place.”Morpheus remained silent for a moment, his piercing gaze fixed on the horizon. “Lucifer may hold the answers we need. The emptiness is unlike anything I have encountered before, and if there is one being who understands the absence of hope, it is he.”Matthew sighed, shaking his feathers. “Well, I guess if we’re doing this, we might as well do it quickly. No offense, but Hell ain’t exactly my vacation spot.”With a simple motion of his hand, Morpheus called upon the shadows, and within seconds, they were engulfed in darkness. When the void lifted, they stood at the gates of Hell.Before them loomed the colossal ir
chapter 68
The echoes of Death’s departure had barely faded when Lucien stepped out from the shadows of the grand hall. Her appearance was deliberate, her expression as serious as it had ever been. She approached Morpheus slowly, the faint sound of her footsteps swallowed by the vastness of the Dreaming’s palace.Morpheus, still deep in thought, did not turn to greet her immediately. He stood by one of the massive windows overlooking the surreal and ever-shifting landscapes of his realm, his back straight and his gaze distant.“She is gone,” Lucien finally said, her voice soft yet firm.Morpheus turned slightly, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the Dreaming. “She is. And she has confirmed what we feared—the emptiness is not a mindless force. It reacts, evades, and perhaps even fears. But why does it avoids her…” He paused, his words trailing off.“That,” Lucien said, stepping closer, “is something I believe I can explain.”Morpheus turned fully to face her now, his dark eyes narrowing
Chapter 68
Death’s domain was quiet and solemn, a place of peace rather than sorrow. Unlike her siblings' realms, it did not weigh heavily on those who entered. The air was still, imbued with a sense of finality and closure. Death sat on a simple bench under a lone tree, a notebook resting on her lap. She absentmindedly scribbled her thoughts, her mind preoccupied with the chaos that had overtaken existence.The situation was growing dire. The emptiness—a force that defied comprehension—was not only corrupting dreams and waking lives but was also interfering with her work. Souls she collected were incomplete, their essence hollowed out as if some vital part had been stripped away. It troubled her deeply.For a moment, she paused, tapping her pen against her notebook. She gazed out at the horizon of her domain, where faint whispers of departing souls lingered.“This isn’t right,” she muttered. “It’s never been like this.”A summons tugged at her consciousness. Another soul required her presence.
Chapter 66
Despair entered her gray and shadowy domain, the oppressive atmosphere weighing down her already burdened shoulders. The walls of her palace were adorned with rusted mirrors and remnants of forgotten sorrows, each reflecting the emptiness of the souls she represented. She sat on a low stool, her barbed hook clutched in her trembling hands, as Desire followed behind, their golden eyes scanning the room with a mixture of boredom and unease.“This is a bad idea,” Despair muttered, her voice low and rasping. “A terrible idea.”Desire sighed dramatically, leaning against one of the crooked pillars. “Tell me something I don’t already know, sister. Dream has always been reckless, always so full of himself. This is just another one of his grandiose schemes to make himself the hero.”Despair shook her head, her fingers gripping the hook tighter. “It’s not just recklessness. It’s desperation. He’s asking us to risk everything. To pour out the very essence of who we are. What if it doesn’t work?
Chapter 65
Morpheus returned to his palace in the Dreaming, his thoughts heavy with the revelations from his conversation with Death. He stepped into the grand hall, its towering ceilings adorned with stars and clouds in constant motion. The Dreaming felt different now—quieter, more fragile. The usual hum of dreams was subdued, as if the realm itself was holding its breath.Lucien, his loyal librarian, stood at the foot of the throne. Her expression was grave, and she clutched an ancient tome bound in weathered leather. She bowed slightly as Morpheus approached.“My lord,” Lucien began, “I have found something. It is not pleasant, but I believe it may provide the answers we seek.”Morpheus gestured for her to continue, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. “Speak, Lucien. What have you uncovered?”Lucien opened the tome, flipping through its yellowed pages with meticulous care. The text was written in an ancient, almost indecipherable script, and the illustrations depicted swirling vo
Chapter 64
Morpheus paced his throne room, the weight of Despair and Desire’s findings pressing heavily on his mind. His siblings’ experiences with the shadowy emptiness only confirmed what he had feared—something ancient and malevolent was encroaching on the realms of the Endless. It was no longer confined to dreams or desires; it was spreading like an insidious disease, touching every corner of existence. He stopped abruptly, his gaze fixed on the swirling mists beyond his windows. "Lucien," he called. Lucien appeared from the shadows, a stack of books clutched in his hands. "My lord?" "I must speak with Death. She will have seen signs of this chaos among the souls she collects. Hold the Dreaming in my absence." Lucien nodded, though his expression was troubled. "Be cautious, my lord. If this force can affect Despair and Desire, there’s no telling what it might do to the others." Morpheus said nothing, stepping into the shadows and vanishing from the Dreaming.Morpheus materialized i
Chapter 63
With the oppressive weight of the waking world hanging over them like a black cloud, despair and desire crossed the boundary once more into the Dreaming. They had found nothing tangible in their search, but what they had found—the omnipresent void, the shadowy figure—could not be disregarded. In his throne room, Morpheus stood poised like a statue, waiting. Lucien was standing close by, his hands clasped, his face displaying the strain of the Dreaming's problems. The atmosphere was instantly altered by the arrival of Despair and Desire. "You've come back," Morpheus said in a soothing yet tense voice. "What have you found?" Despair took a while to speak. The sound of her barbed hook clinking on the floor echoed throughout the large room as she dropped it at her feet. "It's everywhere," she said in a hollow voice. The emptiness permeates every aspect of the waking world like a plague. I can't even touch them. Their hopelessness is phony and unfounded. Morpheus looked at Desire,
Chapter 62
With their opposing energies creating an unseen tension between them, Despair and Desire silently left the Endless gathering. The scenery changed to a drab gray as they left the Dreaming and entered the real world. The sounds of life, such as laughter, conversation, and the rustle of leaves, were muted and faint, and the air felt heavy, as though the world itself had lost the ability to feel. This was a familiar world to Despair. She flourished on the silence, the emptiness, and the crushing weight of it all. As she watched the waking world go by, she absently dragged her barbed hook across her palm. "It's already here," she muttered in a gravelly, low voice. "The void. They feel as though it is a second skin.But Desire was not impressed. With a smooth, melodic voice that was brimming with derision, they answered, "It's always there, darling." That is the state of humanity. Yes, emptiness, longing, and yearning. However, this... feels different.They entered a busy city street and
Chapter 61
Tension reverberated through the Endless's great hall, a place unconstrained by time and molded solely by the essence of its occupants. As solemn as the night sky, Dream sat at the center of the group. Death was standing to his right, composed but with an unwavering determination. Desire sat on his left, their face a mixture of contempt and laughter. Despair was there in the shadows, hardly perceptible but always there, gripping her barbed hook with shaking fingers, her eyes displaying a silent, all-encompassing agony. "This cannot go on," Dream started in a steady but irritated tone. "Mortals are no longer dreaming as they used to in the waking world. They don't have any imagination, hope, or even nightmares while they sleep. The Dreaming is in pain and disintegrating. It has an impact on everything. Desire twirled a golden strand of their hair and laughed softly. Dream, you're always so dramatic. Maybe the mortals are just sick of your little fantasies. Perhaps they've discovered
