To dream the impossible...

[Altias_Bromn]

Altias Bromn lounged in his favorite chair. Its surface covered in a most savory burgundy silk, which felt marvelous to the bare flesh. Waist length tresses of a red only visable in the most perfect of sunsets, coiled around his form. A soft smile curled his thin lips, as his pale lavendar gaze rested on the object of his affections.

The other being moved slowly toward him from the shadows, arms outstretched, hands grasping to draw Altias forward. Fingers met flesh, the soft scent of vanilla and cinnamon as breath was felt upon his cheek. A curtain of snowy white enveloping him, as his partner's hair fell across his bare chest.

"Altias Thadeous Bromn! I'll not have such behavior in my house! You'll marry and create a brood of grandchildren so your father and I can die happy! Do you understand me?"

It was not the first time the lovely dream had been interupted by her screaming. It certainly would not be the last. The image of his lover faded from his arms, allowing him to see the form of his loving, well meaning, mother. She could not bear the thought of Altais never marrying a woman, she did what she could to change his path.

"Mother...we've been over this..."

He stood, his long hair draping him just so, as to not make either uncomfortable. His gaze travelled back to the chair for a moment before he turned to face her once more. But it was no longer his mother...

"Come Altias, I have such sights to show you."

She was, quite possibly, the most beauitful woman he had ever seen. Ebony locks seemed spun of the finest silk, as they coiled in tight ringlets over her bare flesh. Flesh which was etched from her neck to her very toes, with rusty colored tattoos. They seemed tribal in nature, very primative and powerful. So faint that one might not notice them in the wrong light. As Altias looked into her eyes, he found himself staring into an endless, depthless, sea of midnight. Flawless ebony eyes, which had no need for color, as they were perfect in their darkness.

Altias took a few steps toward her, realizing as he drew near, her amazing height. She towered over him, by nearly a foot. Yet she stood before him, as bare as he was, no shoes to cause such a disparity. She was an awesome, ethereal creature.

"Where are we going...?"

Even as he spoke, his hand reached out to grasp her own.

"Away from here...I need you to show me something."

The scene behind them vanished, as they crossed the threshold of this dream, into the hallway of the Dreaming.

[Galacia Tarin]

The Dream Witch led Altias deeper into the hallway. They were surrounded by doors, a vision Galacia herself kept constant between her victims. It made it so much easier for them to understand.

"You see, Altias, each of these doors is a memory. Sometimes it is only a dream, a memory of something we wished for, but did not receive. Other times it is a way of hiding from those things we should face. And still other times, it is a simple memory."

"What I desire, Altias, is for you to show me memory. Recent memory. "

"Choose a door, my dear. Choose well, and this will be simple, and less painful for you."

~~~~~
Altias walked through the door, into the Broken Dagger. A night like any other. The room was crowded, filled with chatter and smoke from the fire. The scent of roast mutton fresh in the air.

Across the room there loomed a man, dressed well in a long white coat, which matched his hair. Altias' eyes were instantly drawn to him...

"Oh no...this is not what we need, little one. Try another door."

~~~~~

Altias sat talking with the man fromt he first memory, they seemed quite taken with one another, until the small woman approached them...

"Yes...."

Galacia lounged against the back of the couch, watching the memory unfold. Her interest instantly caught as the woman began to speak.

After a time it seemed that perhaps this was the wrong road, perhaps it was just another crazed beast.

Alexander and Altias seemed quite intersted in her tale, though the white haired man seemed distrusting of her. Galacia wondered if he knew the woman, or had heard the tale before.

She tired of watching them coddle the girl, so much so she was prepared to end the memory, as the woman got up to take her leave of them.

The young woman turned back to them, as an after thought, and offered a final thought....only one word came to Galacia. Only one word mattered.

"Baie"

Altias was wrenched from the memory, so fast as to snap him back to the waking world. Little is left of what has happened, save for the rude interuption of his dream of Alexander, and a splitting headache.

Meanwhile, atop a pile of pillows, in the Broken Dagger, a woman screams. A scream to wake the dead, and chill the living. For it had come, and there is nowhere to hide...this time.