[ There comes a groan--a roar, perhaps, as the dream goes dark again. It shudders through all of his limbs, through the earth and across the jungle and ripping through the leylines reaching to distant lands. Tyria shudders under the entity's displeasure. The dreamer has what it wants, but the dreamer still refuses to give it up. How many days has it been? How many days will it be? Time is endless in this constant back-and-forth, in this neverending negotiation of power. There's an exhaustion in Mishka's body, but it hardly matters. Especially in the face of Syrlya's struggle.
Hold on, comes a thought. It is not Mishka's thought, it is that of the stranger. Perhaps they have finally realized that they are connected in this dream, and are attempting to communicate. The weeks spent in this prison are a small price to pay in the face of the prospect of peace, and freedom from this cycle.
Sensations begin to fade. The presence of the entity abates, pain through limbs dulling.
He is our only hope.
The dream is coming to an end. And for a brief moment, the consciousnesses of both Mishka and the dreamer remain connected.
no subject
Hold on, comes a thought. It is not Mishka's thought, it is that of the stranger. Perhaps they have finally realized that they are connected in this dream, and are attempting to communicate. The weeks spent in this prison are a small price to pay in the face of the prospect of peace, and freedom from this cycle.
Sensations begin to fade. The presence of the entity abates, pain through limbs dulling.
He is our only hope.
The dream is coming to an end. And for a brief moment, the consciousnesses of both Mishka and the dreamer remain connected.
He is my only hope.
Trahearne, in his bed, awakes with a start. ]