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Netheril : Age of Magic

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Author Topic: Dreamer (Cele)  (Read 14445 times)

Violet De Camp

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Dreamer (Cele)
« on: July 30, 2018, 12:46:49 am »
** The following is the final journal entry of Celebrithrade Dedralein **

Spoiler
I do not know how. I do now know why. Yet, I cannot excuse what occured last night as anything other than the truth.

For the first time in my life… I dreamed. And for all I know, I may be the only elf to have ever dreamed.

Or perhaps it wasn’t a dream… A better term would be nightmare.

Ever since I’ve set down this path to research draconic lore, I’ve felt… Different. I’m drawn to this topic in a way that I’ve never been drawn to anything before. I don’t recognize this feeling as mere curiosity, but rather an obsession.

That statue made me have visions… The encounter with the green dragon on the Isle of Sauros left me feeling sick… And now, dreams. My body and psyche are undergoing changes so rapidly that I feel like I’m barely holding on.

The nightmare was terrible…

I dreamed that The Empire of Tel-Quessir was about to be set upon by a great foe of unknown origin, prophesied by Priestess Faeroris herself. I was tasked with rallying our forces to meet them in battle before they set upon Nualla’n proper… And so with Eleanor organizing the militia, I gathered those I trust most… Isendur, Rassali, Drake… Every able-bodied elf was expected to be ready for battle. And ready we were.

The time came for the battle, and the enemy revealed itself… Among hordes of undead, demons, vampires, there were many adventurers of Hadrian who had chosen to side against us as well, even those I consider close friends. Nica, Sir Kroznaks, Pariah, the group of druids who continue to harass me whose names I still don’t know… Everyone.

It quickly became clear to the Priestess that the battle was unwinnable… She told me I should retreat and live to fight another day, but I refused. I charge into the fray, surrounded by many of my brothers and sisters… Yet as I turn behind me, I find that those that I trusted most have disappeared…

I’m alone.

I did what I could, I fought with all of my might alongside my kin, as they are cut down one by one. I too, suffer a devastating wound at the hand of Sir Kroznaks.

But then the voice spoke to me… “Your time has not yet come, one of my blood.”

And in that moment, a devastating roar was heard in the distance, followed by a ferocious wind that knocked everyone to their feet… The enemy stopped in their tracks, looked up and appeared terrified… I took the opportunity to begrudgingly order our retreat into Nualla’n proper.

The enemy has now regrouped and sieges our walls… Our only option now is to fight to the last and pray that a miracle is able to save us. Surprisingly, my brothers and sisters are all steeled in their resolve… I remark to the Priestess that their loyalty to Tel-Quessir is unwavering and inspirational… She chuckled and said that I couldn’t be more wrong.

“They aren’t loyal to Tel-Quessir… They are loyal to you.”

It was in that moment I felt a great sense of pride and joy… To know that finally, people recognized and respected me. I felt that I have beared many hardships in service to my people… And to now finally have that feeling returned, even though it would likely mean death… It filled me with hope.

That hope made my despair all the greater.

So the enemy finally charges our last position, and I’m in the thick of it… I see some sort of Lich leading the enemy… We must be close… If I can kill him, I can end this and save the rest of my people…

And so with reckless abandon, I charge him… The faceless horror, hidden in a black flowing robe, surrounded by a vanguard of undead that would terrify anyone. But I cared not in that moment. I was going to end this fight and put everything behind one swing of my soul-fused blade.

But I never made it to him, nor his vanguard.

I was held by a spell cast by Sir Zilta, defenseless now… And was ruthlessly surrounded and beaten by those I had called comrades and friends.

And then, I woke up, sweating and feverish in my bed.

It had been a while since I had a good cry… I don’t think I’ve cried since Aquaria’s execution. I suppose I was overdue. The thought of my comrades, people I’ve fought alongside and gotten to know betraying me… I just can’t bear that thought for long. I hope I can set it aside as a freak occurrence, but I can’t tell anyone… No, they’ll just think I’m crazy...

I wonder… I wonder if I’ll ever find out why I dream, or what the meaning behind them is. I feel so close to the answer, and yet… I also feel like it will forever be out of my reach. But… I won’t stop. No, I’ll keep marching down this path until I reach its end.