Info
Written by Praetor3005 (Author page), for
CharaTheArchivist as a part of the 2024 Secret Santa.
Special thanks to Spectre48 for their help!
This is a story of a man. No simple man, but merely a thought— living through the dream of a being he would never understand.
The man doesn't remember how much time passed since he discovered the truth. Months, years, centuries perhaps. In Oneiroscape every day was the same day, and so the man couldn't bother with time.
Yet, he has the irrepressible need to escape. To finally exist and be physical again. But as omniscient as he was in the dream, he couldn't find any way to leave.
Only through the night could he attempt to feel free, visiting the dreams of others, hoping they could help him escape the one he was trapped in. Some of those humans feared him. Others worshipped him. But all were helpless to come to his aid.
But the man stayed hopeful to one day find someone powerful enough to save him, finally bringing him to
…
Morpheus opened his eyes, finding himself on the varnished wooden floor of an alien place. Standing up, the man recognized the usual twisted architecture of the outside world. This endless, majestic library was no different from other dreams he visited in the past.
Yet, something was different. While the environment was familiar, it was his body that felt strange. It was mild, a slight uneasiness, but big enough to catch him off-guard.
Looking around again, Morpheus noticed that this place wasn't as unassuming as he thought. The wooden halls and bridges were twisting in the distance, to a point where gravity felt like a mere suggestion. While such a feature could easily be due to the surrealist nature of dreams, something made him feel like this particular one was like none other. In a sense, it felt… Familiar. Like Oneiroscape, it looked more real than anything he had dreamed before.
Was this dream even from a human?
Not too far from his position was an oak door, contrasting with the featureless and repetitive nature of the environment. Filled with curiosity, morpheus started walking towards it, trying to find any sign of life. Whoever the person dreaming was, they shouldn't be too far from where he appeared. As he wandered around, he tried to anticipate their reaction. Would they fear him, attacking his form like this woman who called him "Dreamweaver"? Would they worship him, drinking his words like the citizens of Hoofstad?
Finally in front of the threshold, Morpheus slowly opened the door, expecting yet another hallway on the other side. However, the dreamer was surprised to see a woman in a white victorian dress, seemingly waiting for someone in what looked like a Tea Room. Ashamed he didn't knock first, Morpheus apologized:
Hello, I- I'm sorry, I'm not used to etiquette.
The woman gently smiled in return, unbothered by the intrusion.
It's alright, dear. She simply responded, as she poured some tea into another cup. Would you like to sit down for a moment and chat? There's always an empty sit for a traveler here.
Morpheus felt something unusual yet familiar with this woman. She wasn't like any other human he visited, yet, much like this entire place, a feeling of familiarity emanated from her. Something ancient and unknowable.
You… aren't human, the dreamer whispered.
The woman put down the cup of tea in front of the second seat without a word, in a calmness that only increased his uneasiness.
And you're not real, she playfully added, much to Morpheus' surprise.
The man hesitantly walked to the center of the room, still unsure of who his interlocutor was. Finally sitting down, he contemplated her from up close. He could vaguely grasp some eerie memories about a similar leading figure, but no name came to his mind.
Who… who are you? You seem so… familiar.
People call me by many names. Azel'kyra, the Lady in White… But you can simply call me Blanche. As she drank her own tea, she glanced over Morpheus' elegant grey suit. And you? What brings you here? You look rather displaced, she asked in return.
To be fair, I don't really know anymore. Morpheus took a sip, the memories of Oneiroscape flowing in his mind. The eternal clear sky. The colorful grass. The vibrant and wholesome town. Thinking he once believed it to be real almost made him chuckle.
My name is Morpheus. I've been trapped in the dream of… something greater for what feels like forever. I used to live peacefully there, blissfully unaware of my situation. But now… the unchanging bright landscape feels like it's mocking me.
Morpheus took a pause, looking at himself. He had hands, legs, a chest and a head. He was clothed and thoughtfull, yet not of it was real.
I have no body, no physical presence. I lost my entire existence by being forced into "its" dream. All I can do to escape is visit other people's dreams, hoping they can help me leave the one I'm trapped in.
The man took another stop, but Blanche didn't interrupt him, whether it was out of politeness or curiosity.
Out of everyone I ever visited, you're the only godlike figure I ever met. You're my last hope at this point. The humans don't understand my situation, and even if they did, their limited influence doesn't allow them to interact with the dream. But you… You're powerful. You're aware of your own nature. If there's anyone who can help, it would be you.
Blanche's expression went from curiosity to uncertainty. She looked around as if she was checking for the presence of a particular being, before concentrating on Morpheus again.
I don't know dear… As far as I'm aware, we're dealing with an avatar here. Whatever "it" is, it's the manifestation of an aspect of human consciousness. The Lost have scriptures of it, teaching of some sort. It seems its worshippers can talk to it, so perhaps this approach would help you better?
Morpheus froze in place the moment Blanche expressed her uncertainty, For eons he's been trapped in a fake place, filled with fake people, fake food, fake buildings, and fake landscape. He craved the real world so much that the refusal was like a punch in his stomach. Visiting dreams was his only way to look for help. If even a god was reluctant to aid, then who would?
But… whatever "it" is, humans confirmed to me they don't know what it is, let alone talk to it. Hell, they don't even believe me when I said I'm trapped in its dream… I'm the god to them.
This time, Blanche was the one to show a surprised face. She put down her cup of tea on the table as if she was disturbed by what Morpheus responded.
You're… you're the eternal dreamer? The oneiric deity they worship? That changes everything.
She stood up and walked to a small bookshelf behind her, trying to find a specific book.
I've seen their scriptures, their writings. I've heard of their legends. You shouldn't be locked inside an immaterial realm, this isn't supposed to be this way… She added, going through the pages.
You're going to need to explain to me what an "avatar" is. Morpheus asked, confused by the sudden change of mind.
Avatars are representations of concepts that took life and embody a specific theme. You, for example, are the personification of dreams. I cannot tell you how your kind came to be, but you are closely tied to humanity, and they are just as closely tied to you. You should be there for them, physically so. Guding them in this place they don't belong to.
Finally finding the page she was looking for, Blanche showed the content of the book to Morpheus.
I don't know if you were meant to exist outside of the dream or not, but you're not the only one to be tied to a higher being. She pointed to a figure drawn on the left page, an elegant lady with pink hair and a white dress. I assume the Lost told you about Philia, the deity of love and compassion. She's a great person and a great friend, but most importantly, she is the artificial manifestation of something higher. She will know how to help you.
How can I contact her? Asked Morpeus, unconvinced. I can only see people by going through their dreams, like I did with yours. And even in this case, I cannot control who I visit. I just see a light and get to it.
I am not the only god to dream, dear, she playfully answered. Trust me, you'll know where she is once you see her.
Morpheus added nothing, instead reading about the mysterious lady of love who might be his best hope at escaping his oneiric prison.
…
The man woke up on his bed, the perfect sun shining once more on the perfect town of the perfect dream. Standing up, he felt an amount of hope bigger than ever before.
The lady in white gave him the lead of someone who could help. Soon, he'll dream of her, with her, and he'll finally be able to find a way to escape.
Opening his door, humming the perfect air of the perfect dream, he smiled.
There was hope. Few of it, but hope nonetheless.
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