The #Broken_Dagger Forum

"Do you believe in destiny?"

"...I don't know."

"You don't know if you believe or not?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I don't believe, but I don't disbelieve."

Everything was vague, shadowed; it was like looking through murky water. The moon could be seen, projecting its image over the lake. The rippling lake, pooling away from some unseen pebble that never seemed to stop hitting the water. Except her - she stood there, in perfect clarity, cut out from the blurred surroundings.

"What would you do if you learned there was?"

"It probably wouldn't change anything. I'd go on like I always do."

"So you don't care if there is destiny?"

"If I will my hand to move, and it moves, I am content. Who cares whether it was truly me or destiny that made my hand move?"

He was aware, faintly, that this was a dream. It resembled so much the hundreds and hundreds of them he'd had in his life. Everything was hazy; always hazy in dreams. Except her. Why wasn't she hazy, too?

"You know, you've fallen asleep here."

"I know."

"Right over there, against that tree. Watching the sun go down."

"It was beautiful, too."

"Look, you're still there."

Sure enough, there he was, lying asleep against the tree. Hazed, with the rest. It was sort of unnerving to look at himself like that, but it quickly passed with the calm. Everything seemed so calm here - even the never ending ripples in the lake were slow, rhythmic.

"Father says hi."

"How is he?"

"As well as any dead person can be. He's waiting for you, but he hopes that he doesn't see you anytime soon."

"Tell him hi for me? And that I love him."

"He already knows."

He wondered where they were going. They didn't even actually seem to be going anywhere...they'd been walking, walking for so long, yet he was still there, against the tree, asleep. The lake was still there. But the moon had changed; it reversed itself about the lake, yet remained static in the sky.

"Dark times are coming, little brother."

"...I'm realizing that."

"Evil is at your doorstep."

"I trust the men around me."

"They will do their best, but you cannot rely on them."

"Do you doubt them?"

"No. Against the unmerciful darkness, mankind has always stood up to the challenge remarkably well. But you need to help them."

"I am helping them."

"More than simply waiting for them to show up hurt on your doorstep. Go out and help them. Do something more."

"...what extra difference can I make? I'm not a fighter."

"Fighting isn't the only thing that defeats your opponent."

"I don't understand."

"Just look for what nobody else is looking for. You'll find your answers."

"..."

"Wake up, David. You've slept too long already."

Heavy lids opened to fogged vision. Still hazy...he blinked, once, twice, and everything came into clarity. The lake, there...the moon, there. Like it should be. Clear, detailed. He was awake now.

Rattrap stood from the tree, looking all about him. Back in the real world indeed. He shook his head, the dream's memory already beginning to slip and fade away like they tend to do. Details were quickly being lost.

The doctor started his trek back to the Edificium, with nothing but the notion of the dream still ebbing away into the uncharted regions of his mind.

"It's been a while, little brother. You seem to be fairing well."

"...what do you want, Damien? Come to kill me again?"

"Peace, little brother. I vowed to kill you, not to keep you dead. It seems that by some annoying twist of fate you continue to live, but my qualm with you is over."

"That's...not like you."

"Besides that incident, little brother, we haven't seen each other since we were children. Even I have to succumb to the changes of time."

Hazy. Everything was shadowy, none of the lines were sharp - it was familiar, and he was trying to figure out where he had seen this all before. Deja vu to the worst degree - except...last time, it hadn't been Damien he was talking to. The memories slowly faded back, but they were two-fold as fuzzy as his surroundings; but there was Damien, with his altogether similar look to his own.

"What *do* you want, then?

"I've been wandering, little brother. I sought those who killed our father; I killed you. I've gained tremendous power; I've worked my way down the ranks of Hell. And now that I've done it all...I don't know what I want."

"Hmph. You can't expect me to believe that, Damien. Damien, who always knew exactly what he wanted - Damien, who killed off everyone even remotely in the way, backtracking sometimes to get those he missed."

"That was another time. Demonic blood makes for strange thoughts as a child, little brother. But I've grown. I've learned - especially from you, little brother."

Ah, now it was all there. Alandial had conversed with him in much the same fashion...it was starting to make sense. These weren't just dreams - it was his siblings' contact with him. The new realization hit him, to think that Damien's testimony was actually his own, and not just a long-hoped for miracle created by his own mind.

"...what are you talking about?"

"You weren't so different than me, little brother. You matched my viciousness in that war, if not my body count. But in the end, you reversed your entire life, a complete about-face. It was from this that I learned."

"Are you telling me you're going to turn into an angel now?"

"Heh heh. Hardly. But it has given me more sight than blind power."

"What now, then?"

He hadn't seen Damien since his teenage years. Even during the incident, his older brother had stabbed him in the back. The world had fallen away in spotted darkness then, and even though he never *saw* him, he knew he was there. No mistake about it.

"I just came to say hello, little brother. To let you know that you don't have to fear me any longer; I've had my revenge."

"So that's it, huh? Now we're just friends?"

"I'm not stupid, little brother. I put you through hell - and, mind you, I don't regret it. I did what I did because I am who I am. But I have no reason to do it again. You won't take my friendship so easily."

"You're damned right I won't, you bastard!"

"You won't get an apology from me, nor a plea for forgiveness. But I'll be watching, little brother. I'll be watching from down below, while our sister watches from high above. You're a lucky one, little brother. Think of my torture as a means of earning what you now have."

"Damien, whatever goddamned game you're playing now, you can t-"

"Time to wake up, David. You have a patient."

"...take it and go to hell!"

Doctor David D'Rael blinked, looking around quickly. Things were clear, sharp. He was in his office, and awake now - and surely enough, in the foyer stepped a man who looked questioningly at the doctor in regards to the waking outburst. David was confused; already, again, the memories were fading away. In the brief moments the doc was up and moving to greet the man, he had already forgotten where the outburst had come from. It puzzled him, but soon even that puzzlement was lost.

Nothing but lingering fragments at the edge of the mind to sit with the other forgotten memories.