A Dreamer's Message of War (Fidelis / Masa could you mod please)

[Parreyon Syndicus]

25th of Cryaxtum, Spring Era I, Era XV PF

Parreyon had wasted little time once he'd spoken with Milo and Veleraen regarding the upcoming events. It was an ugly thought but an inevitable one, and Parreyon did not want to be the bearer of this message. The life of his friend lay in the balance, and the beginning of what King Auron had prophesied with them on Isle Concordia seasons ago when they returned from their time travel. He told them that the new kingdom would face the darkness. The wolf of Jorel was making this abundently clear.

Nobody had liked the idea of this one on one confrontation between Vel and Fidelis. The Wolf's talent with the blade sounded unmatched in both rumor and according to the Ebon Watch. Rare a man could achieve the skill of Veleraen, and yet Fidelis had reached a unique level of unmatched herald. He truly was master with weapon in his hand. If this was true, then eve Parreyon and Veleraen together were no match for Fidelis on the field of battle, and yet Vel wanted this to be a fight of honor, one on one.

The Royal Judicator would not ever question the heart or integrity of his squire turned knight. In this realm Parreyon felt Vel had even succeeded himself. The question lied in what the puppets were to do as the puppeteers pulled the strings? This was nothing but a chess game between Aslan and Jorel. The loser not even in checkmate. It was pawn against pawn. Parreyon had faith in his friend, but not in the god of his friend. Even though he held no anymosity towards the aetherians, they had done nothing to date to aid the Empire in all the chaos that had taken place over the last few eras.

It was either here nor there as Parreyon lay cozy by the spring fire ready to do what must be done. This was his gift from His Mistress though he'd never expected it to be used this way. Parreyon had been told by Kaimelea to remain close to Milo, and this fight between Vel and Fidelis was a part of Milo since it was his family threatened. He felt in his heart that what he was to do was blessed by Kaimelea and continued unless His Mistress was to tell him otherwise.

Ten Knights of Inquisition patrolled his location and the sorcerer and Praaal were by his side as Parreyon closed his eyes and began; the breeze of the evening spring air rolled across his black fur and the moons were bright in the night sky. They were near Primus Gaudeo in the foothills should anything go wrong, but nothing would.

Parreyon felt the instant pull of the dreamstate as he drew in the power of His Mistress. This was Her realm and he Her Chosen. In the land of the living, Fidelis held power, but in here, Parreyon was lord and felt no fear. He smiled to his bondmate in the veil of the dreamstate before imagining the real dreamer's realm and seeing the door that always openned for him.

Parreyon spread his arms as they turned into wings and leapt into the night sky. His body grew to twenty feet in length taking on the sleak form of a great panther. His fangs extended front and back legs formed, claws protruding from all four feet. His wings like that of a great eagle but grey in color and easily gliding him through the air. This was his form in the dream realm. In here he was Nir'Kaaina.

Parreyon had little experience in this part but allowed his mind to be open to interpretation from His Mistress knowing the basics. He had sought out and found one other person before this in the dream realm. That person he knew making the ability to find the dream easier. This time he had but one idea to finding this Fidelis but also felt it a good one.

He had heard of no darker, more evil, more sinister person in this region than Fidelis. Argument could be made for Shei or Avanthar, but Parreyon had not heard of there where about in some time, and the Ebon Watch had not given him any details to their where abouts. He'd bring that up with Tito at a later date since the two had never spoken of Shei or Avanthar for Tito to know to look. Fidelis, on the other hand, was openly killing people at every corner - the innocent people in Aelyria Prime, The Knights of The Church of Faith, and the head that was sent to Milo. Parreyon hoped this worked.

In the land of dreams, those with the ability to could actually see the true soul of a person. It lied in shades of grey but pure souls were perfectly white while evil souls were black. Ninety nine percent of the population was some shade of grey, having done both good and bad deeds in their life. If Fidelis was the right hand of Jorel, then his soul would be pitch black. Parreyon had seen very few black souls like this; one a demon and the other Avanthar. This was what he would concentrate on. He would place his mind in thought of the darkest soul and let it pull him to it.

Flying high up in the evening air of the dreamer's realm in the form of the winged great panther, Parreyon concentrated on that black, evil, dark soul in hopes of finding his objective ....

[Fidelis Meridius]

In a location few knew of, hidden amongst the peaks of the Khardan, rest the Temple of Thorns. But in truth, it was anything but resting. The Thorns went diligently about their brightening and darkening's business serving their lord in the unique way the Thorns did. But there was one who walked a different path from day to day. He was their champion, he was their Wolf, he was His Wolf.

Leaning against a the railing of the balcony of his chambers, the Jorelite in question looked out over the planes of the Primus Countryside. Prime had fallen from his view in darkness, and no flicker of torch or fire was visible from such a distance. Blinking slowly, the man's emerald eyes had already begun to feel heavy.

His brightenings were long, and the darkenings that he bid Havina to stay were even longer. Between the total re-dedication of his life, and his training as not only a swordsman, but a general and a mage, he had little time for anything but business. On top of everything else, this giant, Veleraen had show the grapes to actually challenge the warrior to battle in response to his threats. Either this being, whom seemed to be the scion of honor, was either a brave man or a fool. Although, the Dark Knight had his money on the latter, Jorel did not. It was the Dark God himself who commanded that the warrior be dealt with.

...And dealt with he would be. Certain preparations would be made, and Fidelis would prove more cunning than this new adversary. Vel had claimed that he would be alone, but would he? Truly? There were far more people involved now, and Fidelis held no faith in the giant holding to his word. When others showed, he would be ready, and like the giant, they would all perish.

But the time to brood over such tasks at hand was for another time. As the wind caressed the silk and linens of his navy robe etched with the fanged wolf, he sipped on a small glass of burbon. Having just finished dedicating himself to his lord in prayer, the warrior was left with a few moments of relaxation before retiring for the evening.

As he stood there, a slender figure entered the arch of the doorway before stepping in behind him. She placed her hands around his waist as she leaned against his shoulder to him, and whispered quietly in his ear. "You should rest..." Havina spoke compassionately to her Wolf, though her words didn't fool anyone. She was just as fiercely devoted as he was, and equally as powerful. But they were a pair now, and over the intense seasons, had bonded in a very special way.

Looking over to her, a tress of platinum hair fell from its position to drift into his face. Nodding silently, the swordsman finished his glass in a gulp and placed it on the rail. "There is still much to do..." He spoke quietly in return.

[i]"Yes, but not tonight... Now get some sleep."[/b] She spoke like his mother has she left him alone once again. With a small smirk, the warrior shook his head casually as he followed. She was his, and his alone, with the only exception being Jorel, but he stilled followed her guidance. Most all of which had proven valuable.

Sometime later, the Jorelite found himself between the sheets of his bed and drifting fast to sleep. Soon enough, he would be in the realm that Parreyon had chosen to seek out the Wolf. But a hunter never willing chose to become the hunted, but somehow Vel and Fidelis had crossed paths in their sleep... it was not impossible to say that it wouldn't happen again.

[Masamune]

Manipulation within the Realm of Dreams, where every mortal soul must linger at one time or another throughout their life...this was Parreyon's art. He would work for equal skill in sword and illusion magic, but as the one tapped to be Kaimelea's Chosen...here he was granted almost unparalleled freedom. As his form changed and the one on the Material known as Parreyon was no more, his other name of Nir'Kaaina coming forth along with his shape as a winged great panther.

As he glided through the various places within the realm, seeking one soul only, he located that soul after some severe searching. As he homed in on the Wolf of Jorel's signal, the world turned twisted and blackened, until he saw what looked like a sort of black fog encompass an area, and try as he might, Nir'Kaaina could not penetrate the black fog with his muscles. A young man stepped from the shroud of blackness wearing irridescent robes with only one clear detail--it bore the eye of the Dreamer.

He was ruggedly handsome and his eyes bespoke a mysterious, Mona Lisa wisdom as though he were privy to something no one else was. His hands were folded together and rest gently in front of his hips as he tilted his head to the side.

"Greetings, Nir'Kaaina...you of all people should know that passage into the dreams of another is a very serious and difficult act...and yet you are trying to pierce the fog of this man's dreams...why?" His voice was a curious, slow, and seemingly quizzical thing, his voice soft but insistant. To find another on the Dream Plane is to pierce their dreams and enter it, or to pull them into the planar dream that Waking Dreamers had learned to embrace...and pulling another into the Planar Dream--especially with a man such as Fidelis--was a dangerous thing, and oftentimes if done unto someone not prepared to worship Kaimelea, it was not without its price, and an oft-times heavy one. Piercing another's dream and entering in, however, was a much different act. By entering someone else's dream they can face that person within the dream, and as a Waking Dreamer still have a modicum of control over the environment, though not much. A Dreamer's power was weakened inside the veil of another man's mind, but carried far less of a price from the Planetar of Dreams should it be done without reason by one of her followers.

Enter one of the enigmatic twins of Kaimelea. Would he be the younger, Divalat, bearing a gift of some kind, or the elder, Nivalas, bearing poor tidings? Perhaps in truth it depended on the answer that rest within Parreyon's heart.

Fidelis, for his part, rested safely nestled within a dream of his own mind's making just like any other darkening, whatever twisted and horrifying revelation that might be...or perhaps the one part of him that was as normal as all other mortals.

[Parreyon Syndicus]

Finding the man in question became easier than he thought, but had he truly thought about it, there were few darker souls than the one he sought. With his wings outstretched, he moved towards the black cloud assuming he would move right through it. Instantly he learned otherwise. Was this dark soul also in pact with Risthal? Parreyon coul dnot imagine the terror that would exist if Risthal and Jorel formed an alliance. No, he had to assume his lack of entry was his own fault. Parr knew that there were talents still to learn that he had yet to be trained in. That must be it.

Parreyon tried concentrating on the dark fog but it still would not allow him to pass. He offered a prayer for guidance to enter and still could not penetrate. But something else happened yet again unexpected. Standing before him from through the darkness came a lone figure. A man wearing a cloak in the same coloration as the dress Kaimelea wore the brightening he had met Her upon his death. This man held one of two distinct possibilities for both men looked identical. Was this to be a bering of a gift or the placement of a curse? Parreyon could only pray for the former.

"High Priest, I truly beg that you are Divalat. I seek to penetrate the darkness to send a message to the soul within. Kaimelea told me to stay near Milo the same brightening she accepted me as Her Chosen and laid gifts at my feet. Milo has been threatened by the black soul within daring to claim he would destroy Milo and his entire family unless a gift was given to him. That gift is Veleraen, a Follower of Aslan, and nemesis to the black soul within.

A challange has been made for the two to meet on the field of battle. I have been asked by Veleraen to bear the location of the challenge to Fidelis, The Wolf of Jorel, so that no other person has the potential to show up and spoil this confrontation. Since I have been tasked with staying true to Milo, I thought using this gift of dreams to deliver this message aided in saving Milo and his family.

I pray to My Mistress that I am correct in this presumption for if you are Nivalas, I fear the curse that might be placed upon me for using the Gift of Kaimelea improperly." Parreyon waited anxiously to find out if he was true to course or what folly might befall him for his attempt.

[Fidelis Meridius]

Though Fidelis was an evil man, capable of the darkest things, it was for reasons very few would ever know. No man truly knew of the warrior's nightmares, of his suffering, or even what made him tick. But in the truth of all things, love was the answer to his hate. It was only when a being of the highest honor had forsaken something more sacred to the warrior than life: Family.

But it was a love of a lifetime ago, and it had all but burned out; leaving the Jorelite scarred, yet hardened to the core. A once bright and virtuous young man, now lived calloused and cold, and all who opposed him was ripped apart without mercy. Only once the heavens had burned, the fires gone out, and the ashes cold would the Wolf have his peace.

But thus far it was a campaign that shown no signs of ending. He sought to do in a lifetime, what Jorel could not in eternity. But he would not retreat, he would not resign, retire, or withdrawl as long as there was still breath to breathe and his heart had blood to bleed.

Drifting into the lands of sleep, the Jorelite found himself resting rather normally. It wasn't until the Dark Lord had cleansed his soul of hate that the warrior was no longer possessed by nightmares of the past. This one was no different than any of the dreams in previous darkenings.

Walking upon rolling plains of wheat as far as the eye could see, everything was cast in a shade of grey. Step by step the warrior carved a path through the dreamscape as blades of grass and grain brushed against his legs. His entire body moved like a shadow as his figure was draped in black, but three solid beams of light enmanated from the front of his form. One in the center of his chest, the other two extended from his hands, much like the deadly blades he wielded upon Telath.

But nothing happened, nor was there anything of significance presenting itself to the Wolf. In this dream there was no sheep, nor a shepard. It was a void that left him alone to thoughts, fragmented memories, and demons, but still there was nothing. Perhaps there was more symbolism than met the eye. Maybe his life existed much in the way it did in such a realm: Alone, without even Blackwind at his side. Perhaps this was the price of debt he created through action. Perhaps even through his tireless devotion to something more than his selfish needs would still only give him such isolation in life, death, or dream. Who could know? Besides... It was only a dream.

[Masamune]

The link Parreyon had been so adept at latching on to was not specifically that of a dark and evil soul so much as the darkness that was tied unto that soul. A soul was neither dark nor light, it simply was. The actions, behaviors, pasts, and associations were what alter the perception of the soul as 'black' or 'white'. In such a case as Fidelis, what Parreyon had found was not the darkness of Fidelis' soul, but the evil that had so infused itself into the Wolf of Jorel's being--and the Wolf had recieved such entropy openly--that it intertwined with his soul on a such a level that it was as though the soul itself was an inky black blot in a field of gray existances.

What Parreyon had found was not Fidelis Meridius, but Jorel himself, who had tied himself to the mortal soul of his Chosen. And when one seeks the blackest of existences, there are none darker than the god of chaos and entropy, and what many believe to be the patron god of evil itself. Had the pair been in Aeternia, the Warrior of Darkness would have reigned supreme, and had they even been on the plane of the material the grandmaster swordsman would have had an edge.

Here, however, within the plane of dreams...this was something altogether different. While the Aeternians and Aetherians could bring influence here, it was very little. This was Kaimelea's domain, known to Parreyon also as Nir'Kierron, and he one of the supreme candidates to become her chosen champion. Here the power the katta wielded surpassed that of even the most powerful of swordsmen. His power was not absolute, however. He was not her champion yet, and thus his allowances were finite. Because of this, the winged panther known as Nir'Kaaina, Parreyon's dreamform, faced down one of the twins. As he described his reasoning, begging for permission, the youthful priest nodded slowly, the half-smile lingering still at Parreyon's plight.

"Nir'Kaaina, your Mistress understands your plight, but know this. You are running afoul of Jorel himself by interfering with his Chosen. Should the wrath of an Aeternian be brought upon you in any realm but this, not even she can protect you. She favors you, this is true, but that favor can only extend so far, and it by no means permits her to stave off the will of one of the gods of Aeternia or Aetheria. Should your act induce the wrath of the god of entropy directly, She Who Opens the Eye could do little in your defense.

"You have guessed correctly, however. I am Divalat, the Younger, and in hearing your noble cause, I come bearing a gift. This gift is an expansion of your abilities. With this you can pierce the dreams of others, though the skill currently only permits you to enter, move about, speak, and have yourself be remembered upon waking. It is still possible to be harmed in another's dream, though granted for that to occur it is much more difficult than in the plane of the material, but that is the risk you take. You will have very little control over this ability, but with practice and skill your capability with it will begin to increase."

He bowed and stepped forward, placing his hand upon the snout of the great panther, before turning and vanishing into the dark fog of Fidelis' Dream...and then, without any realization of what was happening nor any sense of transition or movement, Parreyon found himself pulled into the Wolf's dream.


As far as the eye could see stretched a field of gray wheat. Though it blowed softly in the gentle breeze, and the sun shone comfortingly, none of the grayscale changed. The winged panther was now within the dream of the Wolf of Jorel, and he saw a trampled path within the grain. If his feline gaze were to follow the path, they would rest upon the figure draped in black. The three beams of light eminated, labeling the solitary figure, and the panther's innate senses told him that he was upwind of the figure. An unfortunate exit point...especially considering it placed him within Fidelis' peripheral vision.

For Fidelis, he suddenly sensed movement and heard the sound of grain and grass folding. The sound came from his front left quadrant some twenty yards away. It would not be difficult to recognize that despite his earlier state, he was now quite suddenly not alone. Were he to focus on the figure, he would easily see the form of the black panther...with...wings? An odd image. But then again...this was a dream.

[Parreyon Syndicus]

Parreyon was both anxious and nervous as he awaitd the response of The Twin. Too many paths lay in front of him at this very moment, and yet he still had a message to deliver, hopefully safely to the intended. He felt in his very bones this was meant to happen and so he would aid Veleraen and not interfere. This was a fight between The Wolf of Jorel and The Champion of Aslan, and Kaimelea had not called him to this circle of combat. Would he be cursed or blessed? The answer came following the half smile of the Twin.

Relief filled him when he learned that it was a gift and not a curse that was to fall to him. As with all gifts, his first oath was to use it for Kaimelea's Will and not his own.

"I have no intent of gaining the wrath of Jorel unless Jorel wishes already. I will do no action to draw that ire, this way my actions are faithful to my friends and My Mistress. May Kaimelea bless you, Divalat." Then Parreyon felt the touch and The Twin had vanished from sight.

Parreyon found himself flying in a wheat field with gentle breeze and the rays of the sun, except all coloration was in the greyscale. It reminded him of the talent to read a soul. In seeing the situation unfold around him, he realized he was in an unfavorable condition. He could see the Wolf before him but also knew Fidelis would know he was approaching.

"Wolf of Jorel!" Parreyon said not in anger but with a hint of desire. "I come to you bearing a message you will want to receive. I am but the messenger but the deliver is Veleraen!" He brought forth no claws and shown no teeth. The winged great panther landed about twenty feet away from Fidelis to show his intent was not hostile. He did not fear death from this villain, but he did fear leaving the dream without any scratches.

[Fidelis Meridius]

The dream passed as if time stood still, but Fidelis didn't know any different. For it was just a dream, and it was but one of its many tricks. But the void that filled the seemingly lifeless place was much more peaceful than the dreams of his past. Not only did memories of his horrors exist in his waking candlemarks, but also in those that passed as he slept.

But no longer. In the emptiness he was one... or was he?

As he continued to carve his path through the waves of grain, the Jorelite was quickly aware that there was something approaching. Turning quickly on his flank, the beams of light sliced across the grey like a beacon. His gaze fell directly upon the form that was Parreyon.

"What the???" Of course was the only valid question when approached by such a form, and it resounded loudly in the mind of the warrior as Parreyon spoke. "Veleraen?" More questions followed, but he knew even in his sleep that Vel was the enemy that Jorel himself had ordered Fidelis to kill.

"Very well, speak. But choose your tone wisely. I do not always find it appropriate to respond with words..." Floated a little threat to the messenger in a manner than was more than casual; a demeanor that would make even the most steadfast men uneasy.