The Two Dreamers in the Eyes of the Watcher

Log Info

• Title: The Two Dreamers in the Eyes of the Watcher

• Emitter: Telamon

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house / the Border Ethereal

• Summary: It's a nice night for a dream walk. Ravenstongue and Telamon are ready to go on their dream trip to meet the entity that has haunted Telamon's dreams for years. With Grandfather watching over them as they sleep, the half-elf duo imbibe their potions of lucid dreaming and make a wonderful yet harrowing trip through dreamland to meet the Watcher in the Stars. The meeting is unlike what either Ravenstongue and Telamon expected, and Telamon learns important truths about his purpose in the world. The lovers awaken safely in their bed with new knowledge and a deeper understanding of each other.

(Content warning: brief instance of body horror. Please read with care.)

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-    
Ravenstongue         5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.                       
Telamon              5'6"     140 Lb     Half-Elf          Male      A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes 
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

Well, this is the night. Not that night, unfortunately. But an important one nonetheless.

The protective runes are chalked onto the floor of the bedroom, the bed circled with a slim but unbroken line of purified, powdered silver. Dressed in his pajamas, Telamon sits at the end of the bed, his brow furrowed, trying to think if he's forgotten anything. Holding two small vials in his hands, as he mutters to himself. "Runes in place... protective circle laid out... sand hanging off the bedpost, with two silver coins in it for the guides... and potions." He holds up the two vials, eyeballing them, and takes a deep breath. "Alright. I think we're ready, love. Grandfather, I'm sorry this won't be more interesting, but... frankly, I don't want it to be too interesting."

Grandfather's brought in a chair from the kitchen, sitting in it a respectable distance away from the bed and the protective circle placed around it. "I hope it won't be either, for your sakes," he says as he pats Pothy, who is sitting on his lap somewhat like a cat might. "You had best get going. You only have so much starlight, after all."

"Right," Ravenstongue responds, also dressed in her long wool nightgown, her hair let loose from her usual braid and her glasses placed onto the nightstand for safekeeping. "I'm ready, Tel."

She offers him a confident smile, holding out her hand for the second vial. "Time to sleep walk." She's clearly holding back a giggle. How long had she been holding that one in?

Telamon smiles genuinely at Grandfather. Nothing against Pothy, but having a fey lord watching over them fills him with a bit more confidence than Raven's sometimes-erratic familiar. "Let's do this." He passes one of the vials over to Raven, his eyes meeting hers, and he rolls them at the pun. "Here's to sweet dreams. Or at least, informative ones." He uncaps his vial, and downs the potion in a single gulp... making a face at the aftertaste. "Ugh. One day, they'll figure out how to brew potions that taste somewhat palatable..."

He sets the empty vial aside, and lies down on the bed. He knows the brew will start taking effect swiftly, and he doesn't want to conk out while he's sitting up.

Ravenstongue follows suit, sticking her tongue out after she finishes the dose. "Guh. Yeah, you weren't kidding... What's the saying? A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down?--No, that's a song from that one musical that plays in the Theater District..."

She shakes her head and lies down next to Tel. "Nevermind that," she says. "We have work to do. See you in my dreams, Tel." Her hand goes out into the middle of the bed, a clear indication he can hold it if he wants to.

"Sweet dreams!" Pothy says, imitating Telamon. He receives a few strokes on his fluffy white head for his efforts from the fey lord whose lap he occupies, croaking happily.

He doesn't have to be told. Tel's hand curls around hers, and he smiles. Then he shuts his eyes. After a few minutes, his breathing deepens, and his eyes begin to twitch behind his eyelids...

Discontinuity. He's running. Through a forest. He can hear the growling behind him, the beast chasing him. For a few minutes he can't think of anything but fleeing, then his mind focuses. "Cor'lana!" he calls. "Where are you?" He puts on a burst of speed suddenly, the snarling thing behind him losing ground for a few moments.

Once again, Ravenstongue dreams of being prey. There's the terror, the distinct thought that flows through her every time: this is the time she will be caught.

And yet she hears his voice. Her eyes widen with recognition as she realizes--

Ravenstongue turns around to see Telamon running, too. He hadn't been there just a moment before and now he is here. It makes perfect sense in the sleeping world. "Telamon!" she says, running to him. She throws her arms around him and she says with a sigh of relief, "It feels like I've done this thousands of times before."

Telamon hugs her tightly. "We have. Come on -- I think I know where this goes." The snarls continue behind both of them, as he leads her through the forest. The night sky is barely lit with a few dull red stars, and no moon can be seen. Whatever it is behind them now sounds downright furious, as the two race through the trees.

Strangely, the forest seems to be thinning out, and a field can be seen beyond. "Head for that meadow," he says, gasping for breath (even though it's a dream, he shouldn't need to worry about it). "I... I think that's where our ride out of this nightmare is." He can't help but flash an insouciant grin. "And boy, he's gonna be pissed when he realizes it..."

The feytouched girl keeps running with him, her hand held tightly around his, yet not so tight as it would feel in the waking world. "I think I remember this place?" Ravenstongue says as she beholds the meadow, strangely not so worn out by the running as her other half happens to be.

She tugs on Telamon's hand. "Come on, we have to go--that tyrant will eat us if he gets us. He's angry at me and he'll get you too." It's said like it's a fact, in only the way that dream logic makes sense.

The snarls are coming closer. "Isn't he supposed to be chained up?" Telamon complains, as if he wants to file a formal report with the gods. "I mean, really, someone is falling down on the job here! What's next, do the tides forget to come in?" He picks up the pace, and suddenly the pair are breaking through the treeline into the meadow itself.

And then all of a sudden, the ground drops out from under them, and they are falling. Falling through emptiness, and perhaps the only saving grace is the absolutely outraged roar that comes from behind. This is only slightly ruined by Telamon letting out a startled yelp as the pair plummet...

Ravenstongue yells too, her eyes snapping tight out of sheer reflex, her hand squeezing tight around Tel's. "I wish I could fly!" she yells out into the void, picturing Grandfather's cloak of feathers in her head--

And then she's floating. There's something on her back--no, two somethings on her back. Two large wings with glossy black feathers that shine despite no light, beating her into gentle flight.

Then again, she can see Telamon just fine without the light--and he's weightless, too. She pulls him tightly to her as her wings beat behind her.

It feels as natural as breathing. "I think I've done this before, too," she says with a smile, looking down at him with sparkling violet eyes.

The wild plummet slows, and the darkness seems to clear a bit. The two of them flying over an endless sea, with no land in sight, nothing to break the swells-- wait.

Down there, it's a ship. A small one, but clearly piloted as it cleaves through the dark ocean waves, a pair of silvery lanterns at prow and stern.

Telamon looks around as he holds onto Raven, momentary panic from the fall fading fast to be replaced by wonder. "Well," he says with a grin. "I think we lost him." He gives her a squeeze, and kisses her cheek. "You're good at this."

Raven can't help but giggle from the kiss. "It's in my blood," she says. "I am a child of the Feathered One! It'd be pretty silly if I didn't know how to fly."

She looks down past Telamon's wonder-filled (and wondrous, truthfully) face at the ship. "Found a place to land," she remarks, and she maneuvers herself artfully and gracefully so that they land down on the deck of the ship feet-first.

Her wings fold close to her back as she lands on solid ground. She looks like some sort of vision of some deity's servitor, an angel with black wings. "Question is, where do we go from here?"

"Well, you ride along with me for a bit."

The voice is deep and mellifluous, but there's a sense of humor there. Leaning on the quarterdeck rail is a broad-shouldered man, dusky-skinned and stripped to the waist, only wearing a pair of white trousers. His hair cropped close, and his teeth shining as he grins. "Welcome to the barque of sweet dreams, good sir and lady! I am the captain of the vessel, Isaak. I swear to you that no harm will come to you while you ride this vessel... but I sense you have many miles to go in the dreamtime."

Telamon blinks slowly, then politely nods. "We, ah... apologize for the sudden boarding, captain Isaak. We are indeed on a dream-journey and had to dodge the tyrant first."

Ravenstongue takes Telamon's hand, smiling politely at the captain in the way only a feytouched woman can just accept the strange without much complaint. "Hello, Captain. You may call me Cor'lana," she says, "and this is my other half, Telamon."

She squeezes Telamon's hand gently to reassure him that no harm will come to them now that they are safe. "We're looking to go somewhere, yes," she says. "What do you accept in the form of payment?"

Smoothly, the captain vaults the rail, landing on the main deck. He's easily a head taller than the two, and heavier than both put together, muscular and fit. "I do not take payment, lady Cor'lana, sir Telamon. It is my duty to convey mortals to happy and pleasant dreams, as a servant of Eluna." He spreads his hands. "If I started taking fares, she'd bounce my head off the mast."

Three chairs unfold themselves out of the deck, and Isaak sits down in one. "However, you will need payment later, if you seek to go beyond the range of mortal dreams. The strange prince will insist on it." He gestures for the two of them to sit as well. "What do you seek, friends?"

Telamon carefully sits down, giving Raven a quick smile. "I seek the Watcher in the Stars, Captain Isaak. I placed two silvers in a bag of sand, for payment. I... really wasn't sure what to expect."

Ravenstongue takes a seat, her newfound wings unfolding and folding again in order for her to sit comfortably. She nods in response to Telamon's statement. "I wasn't sure either," she says, but perhaps the strange prince doesn't value only coin. There are things that interest princes more than coin--you can be rich in more than one thing. Perhaps I could offer a poem."

She offers the captain a smile. "At any rate, I seek the same as Telamon does--I am his partner in all things. So we travel to the same destination."

Her wings fidget a little on her back, sort of like a little nervous tick. She's a tad nervous but she isn't showing it on her face.

Isaak laughs softly. "Goodness. No wonder I feel like there's naught for me to do. You've found your happiest dream with each other." He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "A poem might be a good option. The strange prince has... unusual tastes and views. He might appreciate something that takes his thoughts away from his appointed rounds."

Telamon looks about the ship. Despite it being a good sized schooner, no crew can be seen. Still, this IS a dream. "Captain, that... sounds like he travels some dangerous waters." He looks up at the night sky, and studies it. The stars glimmer in the darkness, and the face of Eluna can be seen hovering there.

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Knowledge/Nature: (7)+10: 17

Ravenstongue smiles as Isaak compliments their relationship. "I would say so," she says. "There's not much more I could want for in this life but to be together with him."

She ponders the remark on the strange prince, leaning forward a tad in her chair as she thinks. Her wings adjust themselves with the motion, as they'd been folded over the back of her chair. "What are his rounds?" she asks. Then she peers up at the sky as Telamon does, her violet eyes twinkling with the light of Eluna. "Are we in Eluna's realm?" she asks after a moment, looking to the Captain. "You mention the strange prince--does he have a connection to Her?"

Isaak sighs. "In life I was a sailor, though I was devoted to Eluna. She guided us on our voyages. When I passed from the circles of the world, I was given the duty to convey dreamers to restful sleep and happy dreams." He points to the hanging moon. "We are near her, but not in her domain. These dreams are the dreams of the peoples of Ea -- elves, humans, gnomes, even the arvek nar and the sith-makar." His face becomes still. "The strange prince monitors the dreams of other things. Darker things. In life he was mad. A speaker of truth, but mad all the same. He is not a monster, but he does not view the world as you or even I might do."

Telamon winces. "Well, there's a pleasant notion, Captain. I... judge from your words he can be trusted. But this sounds very ominous." He takes Raven's hand, squeezing it again to reassure her.

Ravenstongue squeezes his hand back, giving him a little smile. "I'm not afraid," she says. "I've had more than enough nightmares--I'll go through anything if it means I'll be with you."

She looks back to Isaak and looks at him with conviction. "So I'm ready to go through his territory. The good dreams come with the bad, just like in the waking life."

Telamon smiles back at her, and then looks to Isaak. "Alright. How do we get there from here, Captain? Because while we are traveling, there's no land to stop at."

Isaak laughs deeply. "Because, my friends, this is not a boat, you are not in the ocean... and your next stop is just ahead. Brace yourselves. This may be a little rough--"

And then the bottom drops out for both of them, again. This time, the sense of falling is brief, until--

Discontinuity.

<<?>>

Suddenly the couple are back, seated in an open topped wagon. The day is overcast, cloudy, with scudding clouds across the sky. Wasn't it just night?

Standing next to the wagon is a short, stubby-looking man, dressed in a shirt or tunic decorated in loud flower patterns and breeches of some indeterminate hue. A white, almost mushroom-like cap sits on his head, and his face is dominated by a pair of huge, oddly-tinted spectacles. When the couple appear in his wagon, he jerks back and screams, "FUCK!"

Ravenstongue thought she understood what was happening, and then it wasn't what it was anymore. She takes Telamon's hand out of sheer instinct, almost jumping from fright. "Aah! Sorry sir, we just--"

She looks around at the sky, at the environs, and finally at the man in the wagon. "I, umm... I'm not sure what just happened! Please don't kill us!"

Her wings are still on her back, flapping in a tiny flurry with her nerves. It creates a little breeze in the process. Maybe it'll... cool off the sudden tension?

The strange man leaps up onto the wagon, shoving his face close to both Telamon and Raven, sniffing suspiciously. "Huh. No sulfur. No roses. Good start. Cardamom? Shit, you took a lucid dreaming potion. Who fucking sent you?" His eyes are still glaring out from the spectacles, fingers twitching.

Telamon desperately shifts so he can put himself between the man and Raven. "Captain Isaak! We're looking for the strange prince!"

"We're friendly, promise!" Ravenstongue insists, although her voice takes on a little squeak. She holds her hands up to indicate she's got nothing in her hands to possibly maim or injure anyone. Even her wings unfold a little to mimic the notion.

"We're just trying to travel and Captain Isaak sent us here on our way. We need to pass through the strange prince's territory--we didn't mean to land in your wagon, honest." Ravenstongue smiles a little despite the tense situation. "I'm really sorry!"

"Oh for fuck's sake is that what they call me?!" The man snatches his hat off, revealing that he's bald, save for fringes of hair around his ears and the back of his head. "Gods damn it, I am Rafael Prince, not 'the strange prince'!" He crumples the hat in his hand, then suddenly relaxes, cramming it back onto his head. "A thousand fucking years and people get everything wrong. Animus fucking wept." He climbs back onto the wagon, and fixes the pair with a glare. "You're fishing in the deep end of the lake here, children. Why for fuck's sake are you here?"

Telamon swallows hard, grasping Raven's hand again. He takes a deep breath, and exhales again. "The Watcher in the Stars, sir." He glances at Raven again. "That's all we want."

Ravenstongue purses her lips for a moment before she offers Rafael Prince a sweet smile. "Well, it's true, that's not a very nice thing to call someone at all," she says. "You're a perfectly nice person, I can tell." Her voice is radiantly charming.

She takes a finger and twirls a strand of her loose, flowing hair around it. "Can you pretty please take us to the Watcher in the Stars? It's very important to me. It'd really make me happy if you could."

Apparently she's decided to take a page from Telamon's book and... charm the prince. A wayward glance at Telamon tells him everything he needs to know: 'just roll with it, please.'

Rafael just stares, raptly, at Raven. It's... kind of weird. Okay, it's weird even by dream logic standards. Suddenly he vaults into the driver's bench of the wagon. "Alright honey, at least you two come with a good reference. Even if I think Isaak's too good for dreamtime." He pulls out a long-stemmed pipe, sticking it between his teeth, and flicks the reins. Harnessed to the wagon is a curious-looking beast, squat and muscular, with a thick pair of horns fused over its brow and curling outwards. It begins to plod off at a decent pace. "We can't stop here, anyways."

Telamon had been raising an eyebrow at Raven's little performance, but he says nothing, opting to save the teasing for later. Instead he asks innocently, "Er... why not, sir?"

"Because this is cloaker country."

Internally, Ravenstongue is dying inside. She's just flirted with an extraplanar being in order to buy free passage to where they need to go. Apparently it was successful. She just looks at Telamon with a look of relief--

And then comes the last statement. "Err... Cloaker country?" she asks. She tries to maintain her sweet-talker's persona, but there's certainly a hint of 'oh gods, what is that ?' in her voice.

Telamon mouths the word 'fuck' silently. Strange prince or not, this is definitely taking a turn. And if it wasn't for the fact they needed to be here he'd be trying to wake up right now. Instead, he looks around the wagon. There's a padded bench on each side, and a large sack at the front, right behind the driver's bench.

Rafael turns around, fixing Raven with wide eyes, the pipe sticking out at an angle from his mouth. "Yup. Fucking cloakers, man. They're crazier than I am and they dream too. Anything that's got a brain and a soul and can sleep will dream. At least dragon dreams are fuckin' consistent, but cloakers? Hold on..." He looks at his pipe, sticks it back in his mouth, then starts pawing for the bag. "Hey, uh... one of you reach in the bag, grab out a silver box and hand it to me? If you need a pick-me-up, feel free, I don't get a lot of passengers these days."

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls knowledge/nature: (9)+10: 19

Ravenstongue reaches out to the sack, her wings adjusting behind her, and she carefully goes through it, her eyes widening. "That's really sweet of you to offer, but I'll pass. A lady has to have all of her wits about her!" she says in her flirtatious voice again. She has to keep her persona lest he decide to throw them both out into 'cloaker country' for them to find.

She fishes out a silver box and holds it out to him. "Here you are," she says. Suddenly she finds herself wishing she'd worn a low cut dress to bed to really sell the whole thing.

Then again, flirting with one of Eluna's servitors wasn't exactly on her list of things to do today--tonight--oh gods.

GAME: Telamon rolls knowledge/nature+2: (12)+8+2: 22
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Diplomacy: (19)+8: 27

Telamon peers into the bag as well, and has the sense to not whistle at what is in there. He glances at Raven, and moves his hands in the patterns of handspeech. <<That is... a whole lot of drugs.>> Once she's handed the box off, he sits back, putting an arm around her. "You said... dragon dreams were more consistent, sir?"

Rafael takes the box, opening it up and packing his pipe with the contents, before lighting it with a wand of some sort. Puffing happily, he nods. "Gold. Always gold. Okay, there's more to it than that but they're always dreaming of their hoards. If you ever want to see a dragon's hoard and don't want to run the risk of getting turned into a stain on the floor, find their dreams." The scent of whatever he's smoking drifts back, and it is very noticeably not tobacco or pipeweed. "Watcher in the Stars? The fuck does he..." He pauses and glares at Telamon again, staring at him pointedly. "Fuck me. I know you. You're one of Feadril's kids."

One of Raven's wings ever so slightly curls around Telamon. It's like a side hug but... Fluffier.

Ravenstongue is legitimately a little fascinated by the discussion of dragon dreams. She's about to open her mouth to ask a question until Telamon's ancestry is identified. "He's a descendant," she says. "How many generations between you and him?"

Her wing curls a little tighter around Telamon in a protective stance, like how a mother bird might fold her wing over her chicks. "But yes, that's why we're trying to find the Watcher."

"He's dead," Telamon states flatly, and his face tightens. Becomes hard, angular, and his eyes are completely black, lit by a star deep within each one. Then the moment passes as he relaxes again, regarding Rafael. "The Watcher freed him. I don't want anything to do with the aboleths--"

"SHHH! Don't fuckin' say their names, dipshit!" Rafael actually flinches a little. "Those bastards, they sneak through dreams and reality worse than fuckin' hags. Don't draw their attention till you're good and ready to carve them up into stew." Puffing on his pipe, the strange prince looks at the two sourly. "Alright, you two. Good news is we're getting close. Bad news is we gotta go through a rough patch. You sure you don't want anything to blunt it? There's a reason I keep that sack back there and it isn't for the good fuckin' memories I had."

Ravenstongue puts her hand on Telamon's knee, just a reassuring gesture as he speaks on the Watcher. But then the mention of a rough patch...

"Umm. What do you think, Tel? I'd prefer to go in with a clear mind, but... Mr Prince knows better than us," she replies as she opens up the sack again.

At least she's stopped flirting with him. For now.

Telamon slowly shakes his head. "I really don't think it'd be wise. Neither of us has used anything stronger than drink -- and I've heard some stories." He straightens his shoulders, and looks Rafael dead in the eye. "Besides, these dreams aren't our dreams, are they?" His arm is around Raven, holding her close.

Rafael raises an eyebrow. "Huh. Clever. Good point. Sobriety isn't my best virtue anyways. Assuming I have any." He reaches back deftly into the sack, pulling out a bottle, and taking a long pull off it. "I think you're both crazier than me, but you've got guts." He offers the bottle, and gives a slightly deranged grin. "Cheers."

"They say love makes a person crazy," Ravenstongue replies, smiling sweetly at Telamon as she squeezes his knee affectionately. She has to do something to remind Tel that she loves him and not the weirdo driving their wagon.

She looks back to Rafael. "Just about willing to do anything so long as it's for him," Raven says. "So, let's go through the 'storm'."

Telamon reaches out to take the bottle, takes a swig of it, and shudders. "Applejack. Gods, you drink this?" He grins at Raven. "It... does seem to have dragged us along a long strange road." He settles his arms around her, before looking to Rafael. "No time like the present, sir."

Rafael gives the beast pulling his wagon a tap with the reins, and it trots forward. "Hang on, these are gonna be weird. Decaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa--"

And that's when things get strange. Tentacles. Lots of tentacles. And mouths full of sharp teeth. Swinging through branches, gnashing hungrily. A body that's not their own and gods willing, never will be, but the sensations are there and it's so WRONG and disjointed where are your bones what why why.

GAME: Telamon rolls will: (2)+5: 7
GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Will: (8)+6: 14

The strange prince wasn't fucking kidding.

Ravenstongue is filled with absolute anguish. Everything's wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, and there's a long moment where she feels it's never going to get better, where nothing's going to be normal ever again. Where does her body end and where does it begin?

It's nothing. It's everything and nothing. She tries to scream but she doesn't even know if she can. "Telamon!"

Telamon.

He's all she can think about. Please, please, if the gods are kind... "Please," she says/thinks/pleads/wills. "Spare him!"

Telamon is no better off. He has tentacles/he has arms and legs. He has even white teeth/his mouth is full of fangs. Shutting his eyes doesn't help. It just makes him more aware of the wrongness. "Cor'lana," he chokes out, arms clutching. The taste of applejack.

And distantly, mad laughter, and a voice growling, "Pigfuckers! Get your dirty bullshit off my wagon!" A loud BOOM, like a thunderclap. "Yeah, that's right, fuck off, or it's the leeches for you! Hang on, you two, just a little longer!"

Ravenstongue just shuts her eyes tightly. Does she have eyes? It's so hard to tell anymore.

Please just let it pass. "Please just let it pass." Please let us go. "Please just let us go."

She tries to think of anything else. Grandfather's feathers. Pothy's croaks. The first time she and Telamon kissed. The reasons she's alive.

Something has to give. At the end of the tunnel there is always light.

Telamon gurgles, writhing. He can't think, it hurts, like being forced into a hole too small, this can't be how it ends, can it? "'Lana," he wheezes. His heart straining--

And then it's like surfacing, or stepping out into the light from a dark house. The dreams recede, like the tide releasing a swimmer that staggers onto shore. Rafael shakes himself, holding the reins in one hand and a huge dragonspitter pistol in the other, the muzzle smoking. "Holy fuck. You adventuring types might need to cull those fuckers, that was pretty bad. And I've been doing this for about a thousand years!" He grins back at the couple. "But there you are. A pair of the gods' own prototypes. Too weird to quit, too rare to die." The landscape has changed, again. Now it's just strange. An odd, gray-white, with the stars twinkling above, and not a single leaf or stem in sight. Up ahead, a strange construction, like a huge twisting conch-shell on the surface.

Ravenstongue's eyes open up and she lets out a sigh of relief, looking at her hands. Never has she been so grateful to have limbs. Even her dream-wings are still there, and she gives them a little experimental shake.

She pulls in Telamon for a tight hug, just holding him tightly. "After all of this, we are drinking," she whispers into his ear.

After all, the dream has to end eventually... And she looks at her wing curling around Telamon with a little sad smile. "I just wish I could keep these."

Telamon feels like he's been put through a literal wringer. His arms curl around Raven in turn, and he nuzzles her. "Definitely don't wanna do that again," he mumbles. Looking up at Rafael, he has the grace to smile shakily. "Well, you did warn us, sir. I deserved that, I guess."

Rafael drawls, "Eh. You're young. And adventurers. You make bad decisions sometimes." The wagon pulls up next to the conch-building. "Here's your stop, though. Oh, one last piece of advice: don't judge a book by its cover, huh?" He pauses. "And, uh... good luck with whatever bullshit you gotta deal with."

Ravenstongue returns the nuzzling, just focused on making sure Telamon was okay. She kisses him on the cheek to put a little color back onto his face. "We're okay," she says softly into his ear. "We're okay. We did it."

She looks back to Rafael and nods. "Thank you for taking us all the way here, Mr Prince," she says. "Regardless of how it was, it was important for us to experience it. There are dreams and there are nightmares. That's just how life works."

Telamon climbs out of the wagon slowly, before helping Raven down. "Definitely. Some lessons have to be learned. And my father once said, you only get good judgement from experience. And experience..."

"...comes from bad judgement," Rafael finishes with a grin. "Yeah, one creature's dream is definitely someone else's nightmare. Keep that in mind and you two will go far." He flicks the reins once the couple are clear, and the wagon rolls off in a cloud of dust, soon vanishing from sight.

Telamon takes the opportunity to look around, and then freezes up. "Uh." He tugs on Raven's sleeve. "I ... think we came a lot further than I figured." He points into the sky, where a large, blue and green orb hangs, wrapped in clouds.

Ravenstongue accepts Telamon's help, rising up onto her tippy-toes to give Telamon a little peck on the lips as thanks. "More later," she promises. Her wings flap a little behind her, as though to shake out a crook in the muscles after riding for so long--and yet so short--in the dream.

She gives a wave to Rafael as he drives off, and she sighs. "I can't believe flirting with him worked. He didn't ask for payment once! And I wasn't about to find out what the cost he wanted was--"

Then Tel points out into the sky. She looks at the orb and squints.

"Shit, you're right," she says. She's spent too long with Rafael; his swearing's rubbed off on her.

Telamon stares for a moment again, then shakes his head. "Well... he is supposed to be 'the Watcher in the Stars'. Figures." He looks rueful. "I didn't know how literal it was." He looks at the conch-shell shaped building, puzzled. Cautiously, he approaches it, feet kicking up little puffs of dust, as he reaches out to touch it before hesitating. "Do you see a door?" He looks back at Raven, brows coming together in thought, before walking around the perimeter of the building for a bit.

Ravenstongue goes to investigate as well, peering at the building intently. Her brow furrows as she can't find anything, not even an indentation, of a hidden door.

"What if we just knock on it?" she asks, looking over at Telamon. "And announce that we're visitors here to visit. It seems like the polite thing to do, at least?"

She shakes her head. "That sounds silly, but it might be our only option."

Telamon grins, having regained some of his moxie. "It doesn't sound silly! We're here to talk, not to fight. Knocking really is the polite solution."

He reaches out, and raps on the pale structure, three taps. Knock, knock, knock.

Suddenly, a hole appears -- as if the building is made up of tiny bits that are folding and moving away from a central point, until a doorway is made. That's not even the oddest part, though.

<<Greetings/salutations/hello, friend and companion.>>

It's not words. There's no sound. The closest equivalent is as if someone is putting the image or concept of words, directly into one's head. Telamon blinks, touching his brow. "Oh. That's... ooh, that takes some getting used to..." He cautiously steps inside...

"Oh," Ravenstongue echoes, going a bit more pale (a considerable feat really, as she's already rather pale by default) as the not-words are communicated.

"That's... Yeah. What you said." The feytouched girl follows him in, taking his hand as they walk in.

"Shouldn't we introduce ourselves? It would be polite," Ravenstongue whispers to Telamon.

<<You are known/recognized. Friend is <mortal:Telamon Atlon>. Companion is <mortal:Cor'lana Lupecyll.>>

Inside, the walls are the same pearl-cream color as the exterior, as the door closes up silently behind the two. There are some low tables, but no chairs -- and the reason why is instantly apparent.

It looks like a jellyfish -- a flattened disc of flesh, with a multitude of tentacles danging beneath as it floats in the air, as tall as a man from tendril-tip to the top of the disc. Extended from the top of the disc are two stalks, each ending in a large, dark eye, liquid and strangely compassionate. The tendrils perpetually move, as if in a breeze, and it raises two as if in greeting.

<<I/self am <!error:Watcher in the Stars>. I/self am pleased/gratified to meet you at last, even in dreams/reverie.>>

Ravenstongue stares up at the strange creature, the entity. Her violet eyes are in a state of curiosity tinged with the slightest amount of terror.

Then again, awe and terror are two sides of the same coin.

"It's nice to meet you too," she says. "I, umm... Gosh. We came all this way here and I'm..."

She looks over to Telamon, squeezing his hand. "I'm not even sure what to say."

Telamon looks up as well, struck silent for the moment. Then finally, he swallows. "You're... not what I expected. But Mr. Prince warned us not to judge books by their covers." He slowly glances at Raven for confirmation. "He's not one of... well, those things, is he?" He's pretty certain, since Raven's not throwing spells or trying to kick down the wall. "Why the ruse though?"

<<Dreams/reverie are specific to all <creatures>. I/self could not <project> a suitable <image/structure>. I/self assumed a <guise> that fit your concepts.>>

The Watcher drifts downward a bit, and closer.

<<Please do not <fear>. I/self fight the <ACCURSED SPAWN> as best I/self can. I/self do not wish to <harm> you.>>

"No, the Watcher isn't one of those--Not big enough," Ravenstongue says. "Not disgusting looking, either."

She smiles a little as the Watcher approaches, looking at the eye stalks and the floating tendrils. "Kind of cute, actually, in an odd way. I like the guise you picked. Umm... Would you prefer I call you Watcher? Is there a name you'd like for us to call you?" she asks, remembering her manners again.

Telamon nods slowly, face relaxing. "You know what is happening to dreams, then? Can you help us? It's not just 'Lana, or myself. Magicians are all suffering from these nightmares, and there's no end in sight thus far."

<<I/self am aware. <My> power is limited, though. And I/self must guard against >ABOMINATIONS<.>>

The Watcher pauses, as if thinking.

<<Please call me Watcher. <Language> is insufficient to properly <exposit> my <cognomen>. <Telamon>, you possess <talent>. You understand dreams/reverie and the <nature> of the stars. I/self suggest <partnership>. Work <together>.>>

"Isn't that what you were already doing?" Raven asks, looking between Telamon and the Watcher. "I mean, you've been reaching out to him in dreams for a long time, right?"

Her wings flap a little behind her in time with the swaying of the Watcher's tendrils. Ravenstongue blinks as she seems to realize this, and the wings stop in place.

Telamon and the Watcher both look to Raven. There's a bit of a 'who should explain first' that passes between them, before Telamon takes the lead. "The dreams were inexact, 'Lana. The Watcher can only communicate with us because we're in its dream. It... he... well, had to build an image -- the giant out of space -- just to interact with me in my dreams, and it was pretty clumsy at that." He takes her hand again, the warmth reassuring. "Then... well, the nightmares started and it got really choppy."

The Watcher bobs in the air, the closest equivalent it could make to a nod.

<<I/self am <disturbed>, fearful of events. I/self have <limited> reach... but <Telamon> is a <native>. He can act/intervene. I/self will supply <advice> if he returns to <my> pagoda, and what <lore> I/self can muster.>>

Ravenstongue visibly wracks her brain, scrunching her nose up a bit as she purses her lips together. Her wings beat a little behind her, too, like they're timing how long and how hard she's thinking.

"Will it be easier for you both to connect now that we've made this journey?" she asks after a moment. "Now that we know what you look like truly--rather than the giant of stars Telamon's described before."

She smiles a little. "You should have been up front with Tel. Your real form reminds me of... These little jellyfish creatures my mother used to tell me about as a bedtime story. I always wanted to meet one."

Telamon glances at the Watcher, and then shrugs. "Maybe. It'll be... tricky. I'll probably need to use the lucid-dreaming potion to carry on an intelligent conversation. But we'll work something out."

The Watcher spreads its tentacles oddly, a strangely ambivalent gesture.

<<I/self did not wish to <lie>. <Falsehoods> are not in my nature. His dreams/reverie were limited, though, and I/self could only interact in certain ways.>>

It reaches out to place a tendril on Telamon's shoulder, as well as Raven's.

<<I/self know <you> are as one. If I/self wish to deal with <Telamon>, I will deal with <Cor'lana> as well and be glad for it.>> It pauses, and looks up. <<The <night> passes. <Time> grows short.>>

Ravenstongue's smile spreads into a grin as the tendril reaches to her shoulder. "You're right," she says. "We do almost everything together. Tel's been with me through the worst--so of course I wanted to be here for him, too."

She squeezes Telamon's hand gently. She meant every single word.

Then the Watcher announces time is running out. "Wait," she asks. "I have to know: after all these years, after Telamon's ancestor--why did you choose him? You said his talent--you didn't 'give' him that, then? It just... was his, by a quirk of his birth?"

<<Yes. <Telamon> was born for the stars. The <ACCURSED SPAWN> predicted this, sought to disrupt/derail this by subverting/warping his <ancestor> and through him, <his> family.>>

There's a tone of pride in the Watcher's 'words' as it speaks.

<<I/self stopped them. >Shattered< their plan by <redeeming> <Feadril>. <They> cannot grasp <compassion> or <sacrifice> or <bravery>. <They> can read the stars, try to stop <heroes> from rising, but <they cannot grasp the heart.>>

Telamon looks stunned by this declaration. "Wait, what? The... 'accursed spawn' deranged Feadril because they wanted to stop me? But-- but--" He's sputtering, trying to assemble a coherent question. "...I can't be that important, can I?"

The world around them trembles, a shiver. Time draws short indeed in the dream.

"Of course you are," Ravenstongue says, like it's the most obvious answer in the world. She squeezes his hand tightly, her violet eyes looking at him in the adoring manner that he's seen almost since they became a couple. "You always were."

She leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek, seeming almost uncaring that the world is threatening to break about them. She draws away and looks back up at the Watcher, smiling.

"I think we have to say goodbye," she says, "for now. But this isn't the last time. Won't be the last time. Promise."

Telamon opens his mouth again, then -- wisely -- closes it. Instead, he wraps his arms around her, hugging her close. "Thank you," he whispers. He looks up at the Watcher again, meeting its strange gaze. "Then this won't be good bye."

The dark, liquid eyes on the stalks regard the two.

Eyes full of stars.

The Watcher simply raises a tentacle.

<<Indeed. <We> will meet again, <Starborn>. I/self will be waiting. Fear no darkness.>>

And with that, the dream dissolves... fading into the early light of dawn, of Daeus climbing over the horizon.