nightmare

(Hey folks, small disclaimer. This piece contains themes of sleep paralysis and night terrors. If you aren't familiar with those things, I recommend you DON'T look them up on Google Images, freaky stuff. That being said, this is a horror piece. You've been warned.)

The world is dark. Shadows creep, blacker than the night. The light of dim stars is the only thing that illuminates the ice, and it gleams like cruel fangs. Jagged splinters pierce the landscape of snow and ice as far as one can see in the deep gloom. Wide chasms gape like hungry mouths, ready to catch an unwary traveler, and in the distance echo mournful howls and eerie cries of the monsters that roam this wasteland.

this story is a pure allegory for what Amathlan fears he will become. view Pride's POV here. view Patience's POV here.

The night air was chilly, as most autumn nights were currently. The upside to such weather was the bright and numerous stars, leaning down so close as if to whisper to Dru's ear. What it was saying to her, she could rarely tell.
But this time it was all too clear.

"You fail. Again. You fail."

The voices were audible as she walked along, shaking her head and covering her ears. Dav didn't seem to hear them, but she did even through her hands.

Ford could not see.

He was standing on a plane of infinite dark, a horribly suffocating sort of blackness that made him fear moving. Could he even walk without falling? He took a step forward, twitching with hesitation. No fall. He breathed a sigh of relief.

How did he even get here? He scratched his head, trying to remember the last moments he spent before he came into this strange, empty void. His brain felt oddly absent of any ability to recall what he was doing only moments before. Ford continued to wade through the darkness, fear growing in him.

The ground was thick with snow, but it wasn’t cold. Brord was laid out in front of her, just as when Gaeded had sat by him after he’d died. She stoked his mane as she did then too, running her gloved fingers through the strands. She felt the ache of sadness in her, knowing that she’d never see him again. She stood up, the snow crunching under her pointed leather shoes. She stepped back, looking around the where the corpse of the giant that killed her steed. But it wasn’t there.

Gilsel lay on the bed beside him, on him in part, and he hugged her tightly against his side. Since she had taken the habit of sleeping with him, and furthermore since they got married, he was finally able to sleep peacefully. That night, though, her soothing presence was not enough to dismiss a feeling of uneasiness, but he blamed that on the fact that it was one of the last nights they were going to spend in Bree-Land. For the next two weeks, at least.

Ornessar slept deeply, but his dreams were not pleasant. 

As he had left the Pony after a...strange outcome of a conversation with a friend, Eliad made his way to his camp. He felt like he was a total bother to people. He took the path from the gate to the south of the town in order to reach the large lake he was staying at. As soon as he lied down beside the tree, he closed his eyes and had hoped that he would not have the same nightmare.

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“How can it be? For my love to die?

How can it be? And all I can do is mournfully sigh. 

I would have climbed a great hill or fend off many a shrew,