The Path of Dreams. (Fanfic)

Tel'aran'rhiod and Portal Worlds
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Damon
"The Shadow Rising"
Posts: 195
Joined: January 25th, 2017, 5:14 pm

The Path of Dreams. (Fanfic)

Post by Damon » February 3rd, 2017, 4:13 pm

Olin Trakon
[subtitle]To Paint in New Colors[/subtitle]
Olin sank into his bed with a groan, glad that Tristam was taking advantage of the time remaining until curfew.

If I ever catch that Drin alone and distracted, Olin thought with an unfair grumble as he rubbed shoulders that had grown bruised from blocking surprisingly powerful blows. He wished in vain for the ability to be able to channel the dust and dirt off his clothing, but he knew that if he did so there would be far worse repercussions than if he simply lived with the pain and stiffness. He had been feeling restless of late, he loved his classes and the things he was learning to do were incredible, but for a man used to being outside all day and through many nights he had been feeling cooped up. And so he had decided to join the Warder class on unarmed fighting, a chance to enjoy the sun and excercise.

As he drifted off to sleep, Olin tossed and turned on the simple bed provided by the Grey Tower. His body protested with muscles he had almost never used aching and so he found himself trying to ignore the pain as he floated between dozing and true sleep.

Suddenly he was surrounded by a blackness deeper than the night of no moon on the foothills, surrounded by an endless sea of lights that shone like balls of moonlight. Each of those stars seemed as if he could touch them with a thought, although he noticed some seemed almost fuzzed out by some mist or fog. A few seemed brighter to him as he looked around before he realized that he had no idea why he suddenly felt so alert.

Before panic could set in, Olin felt a vague sensation of falling, and suddenly the image faded and was replaced by the cool night of a mountain fall.

Light headed fool, I'll fall asleep in the saddle next if I'm not careful, Olin thought to himself as he watched over the grazing cattle in the dip below him. This night was one like many others he had spent, watching to make sure no calf wandered off and checking for signs that a predator had been at the herd. It was small wonder his mind had wander for a moment, a fleeting dream of glory and learning something beyond ranching.

A vague sense of being watched kept nagging at him, and he kept seeing small shifts out of the corner of his eye, but he shook it off as fatigue. He had been working hard of late, the predators and other nuisances all agitated by the movement of the large herds that the dwindling grazing required. As he turned quickly trying to spot the sense of movement and blurring just to the side of him, Olin realized the night had gone silent. That was when he noticed the red and blue spots spreading on his pants. A vague memory passed over him, the thought touching his mind like spiderwebs before the colours began to swirl and swirl.

Soon a wave of paint washed over the hillside, a purple and bright crimson torrent and just before it hit him, Olin jolted awake to find himself safe in his bed.

What in the Light was that? I've always had vivid dreams before, but nothing like this, Olin thought to himself as he sat on his bed and calmed his breathing.
Last edited by Damon on March 4th, 2017, 5:22 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"Every man is the hero of his own song," Tad Williams.

Damon
"The Shadow Rising"
Posts: 195
Joined: January 25th, 2017, 5:14 pm

Returning to Explore

Post by Damon » March 2nd, 2017, 7:34 pm

Olin

Olin once again found himself at the end of a long day. But rather than enduring endless chore after chore, he had managed to do well. The tasks given to him had both been reasonable and easier to accomplish in the time given.

And so he found himself settling in for sleep, tired but without the bone deep exhaustion that had been such a part of his first days at the Grey Tower. As he was putting his thoughts on the lessons in order, he again recalled the nagging feeling that had come upon him a few times as he tried to assume the Void or as he tried to fall asleep.

Determined to get to the bottom of that nagging sense, he focused his mind and sought the moment of almost sinking he had experienced in Derren Ashaman's room a month ago.

Slowly he allowed his breathing to slow and just before the moment of sleep he found a side trail almost like finding a step. And in an instant he was once again floating in a midnight sky lit with a sea of stars. Somehow he knew the stars were dreams, and almost without thinking he could point to the dreams of those he knew.

He kept away from the dreams for now and soon found himself standing in his room. He noticed immediately that gone was the night sky and stars, instead it had been replaced by a constant light that seemed to come from nowhere. As he moved he noticed he suddenly no longer felt ethereal, instead he felt more solid and as he looked down he realized he was garbed in the riding clothes he had often wore when heading out to inspect the cattle on the range.

Curious he watched as his clothing seemed to buzz around the edges, small details changing on the coat and sleeves as he tried to remember the clothing he had burned on arrival. Without thinking he headed out of his room, and as he passed the door his clothing snapped into the familiar Soldier's coat.

Why it felt so right now he couldn't say, but he knew he belonged in the black of a Soldier. Through the halls of the dream Tower he walked, noticing that little seemed different beyond the odd lighting and the lack of people.

As he walked out into the Warder Yards and grounds of the Tower he immediately noticed the damage to the walls and buildings. What in the Light? he thought to himself curious. With a span of a thought he was over at the walls, looking at what was obvious damage from an attack.

Olin sat on one of the boulders and considered this curious fact, then he recalled that many people had spoken of a Seanchan attack in hushed tones. And had spoken in awe about the repairs that had been, and were continuing to be performed by Aes Sedai and Ashaman.

Maybe things take a long time to change here? Like a painting that reflects the world, thought Olin idly as some instinct in the back of his mind seemed to be waking as he spent time in Tel'aran'rhiod.

As he was watching the walls and surrounding stone suddenly a young man in Drin'far'ji greys appeared. He was immediately surrounded by a wave of men bearing the strange bug like helmets described by his teachers as belonging to the Seanchan.

Olin watched as the men began to loom larger and seemed more sinister, just before the Drin vanished. Olin wondered what had happened to the man, when he realized two of the Seanchan had spotted him. In his panic the men loomed two feet taller than him, there jaws becoming actual insect bites as he frantically tried to pull away from the men.

Away he thought in a panic as a sword bound in black fabric pierced his arm, the Soldiers jacket he wore parting easily under the steel. The sweat on his brow, the stench of the strange armour and the seemed so real when paired with the panic in his chest. Pain lanced through his arm, and suddenly he was sitting on a coulee near his family's land. His clothing had once again changed as he had fled in panic, and with an irritated sigh he snapped his Soldier uniform on once more.

He had often come to the Coulee when riding out to check the animals as they grazed from sweet grass, and was amazed at how much of it felt the same. Being here relaxed him, and he imagined he could see the grass swaying in a breeze, an ocean of green that moved gently. He missed the smell of the mountains on the wind, but it still felt a lot like his home.

As his arm throbbed and his terror subsided he was able to remind himself it was a dream. Soon after Olin found himself waking in his bed, his arm bleeding from a gash down his arm. Just a dream, but as dangerous as the real world it seems, he thought to himself as he wrapped his arm in cloth and headed for the Infirmary.

His head was full of wonder and questions about that strange world, although he was beginning to realize the danger of an errant thought or loss of concentration. Still as he clutched the bandage that was slowly seeping red, Olin wondered how in the Light he would explain an injury like this to the stern faced Aes Sedai who ran the infirmary.
"Every man is the hero of his own song," Tad Williams.

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