Dreamer's Throne

As soon as the sun fell, he felt the faint fog of the dream creep in and put down his quill, blowing on the paper in front of him to dry the ink. He had been hoping that the Grave Walkers gang leader, Cynen, would have given him a response by now, but she had spent the entire time sitting quietly, her eyes closed.

"Nothing is ever easy, is it?" Garrett mumbled, shaking his head.

He had eaten his dinner a bit earlier and so now he wheeled himself over to the bed and lifted himself out of his chair, pulling himself into his bed with a rope he had attached to the wall for that purpose. As a shaper level awakened, his body was surprisingly strong and it was simple enough for him to get himself around, even with only one arm. As he lay there, looking up at the ceiling, Garrett's mind started to drift back to the strange feeling of disquiet that he had had earlier that afternoon. He wasn't sure where it had come from and was slightly concerned that it spoke of a greater problem in his soul and mind. Unsure how to deal with it, he pushed it from his mind.

He closed his eyes, taking a single deep breath that he exhaled slowly. Before he was finished, his body relaxed, and he entered the dream. He appeared on the throne, the Dreamer's Throne. Its warmth radiated through his body, banishing his negative thoughts. Reaching up to adjust his mask, Garrett reviewed what needed to be done. First on his list was a visit to Dreamer's Rest. The inn had been attracting many patrons, an ever growing number, and was slowly starting to expand. Its space seemed to be intimately connected with Garrett's own strength. But as others entered, as dreamers spent time there, their mental energy seemed to nourish the space as well.

Garrett was curious about the difference between Dreamer's Rest and the hollow space inside the ghost mirror. The hollow space could be entered at any time, day or night, and in it Garrett's dream powers could operate freely. However, it didn't seem to share a connection to the dream itself, rather appearing as a real-life space that had been entirely corrupted by the dream's energy.

Dreamer's Rest, on the other hand, was a space entirely constructed within the dream, created from Garrett's own imagination and fixed in place by his mental power. There were many mysteries about the dream that Garrett had yet to solve, and he felt a faint trickle of excitement as he thought about uncovering more of the truth of this world. Standing from the dreamer's throne, Garrett walked to the door, intending to step into Dreamer's Rest, when a faint voice seemed to echo through his mind. He stopped, his hand resting on the door handle, his eyes seeming to peer through the wood to a scene a few blocks away. It was hazy at first, and only when he concentrated was he actually able to see what was going on.

There, he saw a small girl bowing in front of a wooden plaque. He was curious about what was on the wooden plaque, but couldn't quite see it. The little girl seemed to be saying something. But her voice was faint and indistinct. Realizing that he was looking at a scene coming through one of the dream flowers that had recently spread into that area of the city, Garrett returned to the dreamer's throne. He sat down and strengthened his connection with the flowers in that area. It was as if his vision and hearing were zooming in, causing the murmurs of the other dream flowers to fade away as he focused his attention on this particular spot.

"Please help my brother in his test tomorrow, so he can be a money counter."

The girl's voice was sweet and earnest, and Garrett could feel something else, an absolute sense of conviction that her words would come true. With his sharpened focus, he noticed that she was facing a small plaque bearing the rainbow-colored flower of the family, almost as if she was praying. The thought made Garrett vaguely uncomfortable, but he continued to watch as she repeated herself again.

"His name is Joe Trilby, and he'll be taking his test tomorrow. I know you can help him, because you helped my friend Sarah find her doll when it was missing."

Lifting her head, the little girl clapped her hands together and stared at the flower for a moment, almost as if unsure what else she should say or do. After a moment of thought, she crouched and stuck her head under her bed, rummaging for something. It took her a moment to find what she was looking for, but when she did, she emerged, slightly dusty, with a gleaming rock, which she put down in front of the plaque.

"This is my favorite rock," she said. "You can have it, if you'll help him."

Bowing her head quickly, she seemed to hear something in the distance and turned, running out of the room. Curious, Garrett sent out a thread of mental energy through the dream flower that resided in the plaque. The tendril wrapped around the small stone, and to his amusement, he found that it was nothing but an ordinary rock, polished to a shine. About to release it, he felt a faint wrench as the stone vanished from its position, and his senses snapped back to his room. Feeling something in his palm, he looked down in shock as he saw the stone resting there. He had no idea what had just happened, but clearly, it had something to do with the little girl. He could sense a faint mental energy, an energy that he had never encountered before, resting in the stone.

Under him, the throne suddenly released a golden light that shrouded his palm, absorbing the energy in the stone, and causing it to crumble away into nothingness. A faint shudder ran through Garrett, and he felt as if the throne glowed a tiny bit brighter. It was clear that something momentous had just happened, though he wasn't quite sure what. Though he had many things to do that night, he pushed all of them to the back of his mind, focusing on what he had just experienced. The young girl had spoken with an absolute conviction that shocked him, and from what he could sense, that conviction seemed to have been passed to the stone itself. He was sure that it wasn't his power that had pulled the stone into the dream, but rather the throne's. It had then absorbed the conviction in the stone, transforming it into some sort of power.

"Is it faith?" He muttered. "No, that can't be it, but that is what it feels like. Joe Trilby, huh?"

Resolving to look into the matter further the next day, Garrett sighed and stood up. When he entered Dreamer's Rest, the bar was packed, though it maintained its vague and dreamlike feel. He could feel just how many people were in the room, and he was gratified to see that most of them were interacting with each other. A strange phenomenon had begun to occur after people began entering the bar regularly. Merchants started to gather in little groups, as did other men and women in the different trades. They spoke to each other, shared information, and began to network. Most of the people were already members of the Family who had dream flowers living near them. Garrett found Estel and Kinsley sitting at their usual table, but noticed that the others were gone. Lifting his hand, he greeted them, asking about their companions.

“Everybody's already out,” Kinsley said. “Well, except for Pax. We're waiting for her, and then we're heading west. They finished clearing out some of the streets. The others all split up and are working their way north and northeast, toward the crypt.”

“Is that so?”

As if sensing his nervousness, Estel nodded.

"Yeah, Maren and Asher are leading, doing some scouting. They said they'd move carefully.”

Thinking for a moment, Garrett nodded.

“You should head that direction as well. See if you can catch up with them.”

"Is something wrong?” Estel asked. Her eyes fixed on Garrett's.

She couldn't see his expression through the mask, but seemed to be able to sense his nervousness.

"Everything should be fine. We've just seen increased nightmare activity up in that region, and we want to make sure that everyone stays safe."

“Sounds good to me,” Kinsley said, getting up as Pax walked in.

After the three Awakened Dreamers left, Garrett spent a bit more time in Dreamer’s Rest and then headed back to the throne, sitting down to check in with Isabelle. But Cynen was still sitting in the chair quietly, unmoving. Curiosity struck Garrett, and he quietly took control of Isabelle, feeling his senses merge with hers.

"What's taking you so long to decide?” he asked, the Dire Spirit's voice sounding strange in his ears.

The question seemed to shock Cynen out of her thoughts, and her eyes snapped open, causing her to stare at Isabelle, as if unable to believe that the greater nightmare had spoken to her. For a moment, the two women simply stared at each other, and then Garrett spoke again.

"It's a good deal. You should take it.”

Disbelief appeared on Cynen's face, and she rubbed her eyes.

"What would you know about it?” she asked.

Isabelle shrugged, flashing a chilling smile at the Grave Walker's leader.

"The world of spirits is filled with struggles for power. I've been fighting for strength longer than you've been alive. You are being offered a chance to gain a tremendous ally, one that will work for you in the shadows, ensuring your position remains stable, and more importantly, ensuring that you come out of this fiasco with the crypts alive. The master is offering you this part of the city on a silver platter. You'd be a fool not to take it.”

Bristling, Cynen sat up straight, her eyes glowing with green flames.

"I don't take directions from monsters,” she snapped, causing Isabelle to chuckle.

"Are you sure about that?” Isabelle asked. "We could go and see one of your men, see if he transforms into an undead beast like the other. That should give us a good idea of who you've been taking direction from.”

The flames in Cynen's eyes grew stronger, and her fists clenched. Chuckling again, Isabelle held up her hands.

"It's a touchy subject, I can tell. I'm just saying that if you actually cared so much about this mission of yours, you would be jumping at this chance.”

Slowly the flames died down, and Cynen nodded.

"You're right. Get your master here. I'm willing to make a deal.”

Jumping out of Isabelle's body, Garrett's lips curled at the edges, a small smile gracing his lips. It didn't take him long to arrive in the room where Cynen was being held, and when he saw the resolve in her eyes, he couldn't help but smile.

"You've convinced me,” she said, her eyes shooting towards Isabelle. “However, if we're going to do this, I have some terms as well.”

“I'd be happy to hear them,” Garrett said, bowing his head.

Taking a seat, Cynen began,

"First, we need the win. Our situation is not good at the moment, and if we are going to maintain our position, we need to stabilize it.”

"A given,” Garrett replied. “What else?”

"You have access to channels outside the city. Is that right?”

Before he responded, Garrett took a moment to think. Though not many people knew about the smuggling operation the family was running, Ghoul’s Tooth had been known for their control of the tunnels beneath this part of the city, and so it made sense that the Grave Walkers’ leader would be aware of that. He nodded.

"We want access to them too,” Cynen said. "We have plenty of goods to move, but they've all been rotting ever since the city was shut down. You have to agree to help us move them.”

"Done,” Garrett replied.

"Third, you have to guarantee that the curse can be removed from all of my men, and you have to help us do it.

“That's fine. We can do it immediately,” Garrett replied. "However, it will require their cooperation and some of them might not be so willing. What will you do if they're more corrupted than you thought?”

“I'll kill them myself,” Cynen said, her eyes flashing a deathly green.

“Anything else?”

"Yes. You need to support us. You and the gangs with you need to support us when the ten seats converge,” Cynen said, licking her lips as if she was nervous. "As I said, our position is not so stable these days, and we have good reason to believe that our seat on the council will be challenged in a few months when the ten seats converge. We need you to support us in maintaining our position.”

When Garrett didn't answer, she hurried to add, “It will be beneficial to you as well. We'll be able to help you a lot more if we can, if the Grave Walkers can remain on the council.”

"Very well,” Garrett said, tapping his finger on his chair’s armrest. “All of those terms seem acceptable to me. Now let's discuss the details.”

It took almost four hours for Garrett and Cynen to reach full agreement, and by the end of it, she was sweating heavily and appeared exhausted. His mind was meticulous and seemed to cover every conceivable angle. The longer the conversation went on, the more she felt like she was sinking into a swamp. Though the family appeared to be a fairly small organization on the surface, the more they discussed, the more she realized that they had hidden their strength completely. When they had finalized their agreement, Garrett rose and nodded.

"Let's deal with your men and the curse that they bear. After that, we'll put on a little play for the other gangs to see.”

With Isabelle's help, they brought the awakened members of the Grave Walker gang they had captured into the room, one by one. Garrett had them sit down in the chair, and Cynen would tell them to relax, explaining to them about the curse they had picked up. Almost all of them complied without issue, though one, upon hearing her words, immediately tried to transform into an undead monster, but, true to her word, Cynen dealt with the problem herself. Green flame burst from her hand as she dashed across the room, gripping the gang member by his neck. The fierce flames burned brightly, and after a brief moment of resistance, his entire body was transformed into ash that glowed with a ghostly light. Spitting on the ground, Cynen shook her head.

"He used to be a good man, a trusted lieutenant,” she said, anger hiding the pain in her voice.