RP:Reunited in a Reverie

 Summary: A strange dream reunites dear friends after a lengthy separation.

Date of Writing: March 9th, 2024. 

Reunited in a Reverie

 Plane of Dreams

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• 
  [Uriphiel] The streets of Schezerade were eerily still. It was strange. There was an emptiness that Uriphiel had only experienced once in his life, something that unnerved him deeply. There were no citizens roaming about. No sounds of people conversing, no birds singing their jovial songs; Just the soft echo of Uriphiel’s own footsteps as he meandered along the main road through town. Where was everyone? Why was it so damn quiet? It was almost as if the entire city had been abandoned for some apocalyptic reason. “Hello?...” the avian called out. His voice was strange. It didn’t echo like his boots had. In fact, it almost sounded as if he were trying to speak underwater. As he approached the fountain in the center of the city, Uriphiel spied something quite queer. The water normally flowing with a graceful beauty, was frozen in place. Not frozen like ice, no, but as if someone stopped the flow of time itself. The former Shar reached out and touched one of the streams coming from the mouth of a golden fish, and sure enough, it still felt like there was motion, yet his eyes told him that it was quite still. The startling sound of barely audible voices causes Uriphiel to suddenly turn around, no longer finding himself outside in the great city. He was now standing in the Chamber of the Raan, with those seven corrupt leaders that he once attempted to oust staring at him from their seats on the main platform. They looked enraged, pointing and shouting at the man, “CHARLATAN! IMPOSTOR!!” However, they did not move in any capacity. Much like the fountain outside, they too looked as though they had been frozen in time, despite the rage in their voices echoing out of their gaping maws. Uriphiel found himself anxious. Panicked. He turned to flee and once more found a change of venue. This time he found himself in the empty halls of the Bardic College. It had been so long since he set foot in this esteemed institute that it broke him. The golden-winged avian fell to his knees as sorrow filled his heart. One hand was placed upon the marble floor and tears began to form in his eyes. With head lowered, he simply said, “I’m so sorry...”
  
  
• 
  [Brennia] has been stuck inside the plane of dreams for a month- no three months? It could very well be nearly a year for all she knows, but she doesn't rightly understand much anymore because it feels that time has been moving differently within the dream realm. She has been surviving in the wilds, if you can call it 'surviving', and evading the creatures native to the realm for the most part. The warning from her husband echoed in the back of her mind that she shouldn't be tempting the unknown of the plane of dreams like this. Something is coming… With her heart caught in her throat, she holds her breath and tries to stay as still as possible until she feels a sickening breath caress past her shoulder. Sprinting with all her might, she ducks under twisted and knotted trees before finding a random path to stick to. Is this path familiar? Who knows, the plane of dreams is ever changing it seems. Her lungs hurt from the panic and she stumbles over a root when she chances a glance over her shoulder. That was a mistake because the sight of that… that THING is absolutely terrifying every damn time. "Merde," her alto timbre like sandpaper as she scrambles back to her feet and slips into a random doorway. She flinches back from the large double doors as they rattle and shake, but whatever it is cannot enter. Time to get an idea of this temporary safe space as her teal solid hues take in the architecture as familiarity starts to wash over her, but she cannot exactly put her finger on why. Suddenly she doesn't look so ragged and worn down with her long black hair smoothed to a silky finish, a professor's outfit consisting of a simple white blouse and waist high pencil skirt that ends just past her knees. When she spots golden wings, there is only one thing she can think of, "Uri?" Her smoky alto timbre doesn't sound as rough as it did out there in the wilds, but actually sounds warm, welcoming and pleasant. Heels click on the marble floors in a measured pace towards the stranger as she hopes this isn't just another cruel trick of the realm. Her own wings stand tall, proud and confident - this is not even a version that Uri had met because this is election Bre in her prime. "It cannot be you," she muses as she stands next to the stranger, someone she once looked up to before he mysteriously vanished.
  
  
• 
  Uriphiel was on the verge of losing himself fully when that all too familiar voice fell upon his eardrum. Pupils narrow as his eyes widen, the golden glitter of his gaze following the upturn of his head, spying immediately a face he had not seen in two years. A face that he had missed most terribly. “Brennia?...” he said, softly. It didn’t take Uriphiel long to rise to his feet and wipe his eyes, lest he be caught with his guard down. “By the Gods. This is the strangest of dreams. I know that you are a figment of my mind, but I can not express how great it is to see you, truly. I have longed to make contact for so long, but I could not jeopardize your, and my own, safety. I really wish to know why my mind has conjured your image, or if you can even respond with any kind of insight.” The blonde avian takes a moment to breathe deep and gather his thoughts, trying to maintain focus in case the dream yearns to shift into the unknown. He stared, just taking in what he perceived as the memory of his closest friend for as long as he possibly could. “I guess… It really matters not. I am just glad that there is still part of my mind that is able to evoke your likeness, even if shortly. I do hope that in the waking world, you are well. That you have not given up hope in your fight. I pray that you have not fallen for the propaganda that labels me a traitor and a fraud. Most of all, I hope that you know that I did not intentionally abandon you. I wish I could see you now. The real you. So that I could explain what happened, and where I’ve been.”
  
  
• 
  Brennia listens to every word carefully and decides this is a genuine Uri… for now at least. It is such a welcome break from running, hiding and barely surviving. Being left with no idea he had felt so strongly, her brow knits together in flattery and she hopes this is the real Uriphiel, but she doesn't want to give him any inkling that she is truly stuck here in the plane of dreams because she doesn't want anyone else tangled up in this. This is an elder she looked up to for so long and she tried to follow any hint of his whereabouts when he disappeared, but there was nothing. Suddenly she recognizes the bard college they've found themselves in and grows concerned with how long she truly has been stuck here, but her expression remains kind and soft. "Of course not, Uri. You will always be a paragon of the avian race in my eyes," she recalls a version of something she has said to him before to make herself still seem more of a conjuration of his own. One of her tattooed arms reaches as if she were to grasp his hand, but she remembered he has an aversion to physical contact, so she redirects her hand as if she is beckoning him to follow. "Follow me, I'll show you where I am," she leads the way up the grand staircase and onto the mezzanine that overlooks the main hall of the bard's college. It is still eerily quiet when this school is always filled with music, poem reading and students rehearsing lines for a play. Once they reach the third floor and reach what is supposed to be her room, she motions for him to go ahead because she knows what he will find. If he follows her guidance and opens the door to her professor's suite, he will find her lying in her bed with her eyes closed, a healer administering enough aid to keep her body sustained and a drow man looking rather stoic as he sits in a chair beside Brennia. His conversation with the healer is muffled, but it is probably the same conversation they have every day since she slipped into a coma:
  
  'Is there any change?',
  'I am sorry, Mesdoram, no.'
  'What can I do?'
  'Just being here is more than enough.'
  
  There is obvious concern twisted with a distraught sorrow on the drow male's face which is probably an unusual emotion for anyone of the drow race to express, but this whole thing is unusual. The plane of dreams version of Brennia stays outside the door, but before she gets the chance to wait for Uri to come out of the room, she gets distracted by the sound of a knob turning. The door that belongs to a room Uri once occupied bursts open and she gets pulled through the doorway as if all the air is sucked out of the hallway.
  
  
• 
  Uriphiel took Brennia’s words to heart, a sense of relief finally washing over his troubled expression as he came to realize that there was more to this dreamy visage. “Your words… they hold more reverence than I deserve. I.. I..” Those thoughts would fall by the wayside as the woman said something that caused him more confusion than he had already been experiencing. Uriphiel did not hesitate for even a second when the reverie-inspired form of Brennia ushered him to follow along, curious as to where she might be leading him. He rightfully suspected, as they climbed the staircase, that they would be heading for Brennia’s suite - for what reason, however, was unclear. It did not get any easier to understand when the door finally opened, and he saw the worrisome scene that was unfolding. What had happened? Was this a glimpse into reality, or some form of memory of not long ago? It most certainly was not Uriphiel’s memory, that much was undeniable. He made an approach to the bedside and reached out, placing one hand upon the sleeping woman’s leg as if to offer some sort of reassurance. Mesdoram was taken under study with that golden gaze, neatly trimmed brow furrowing while he tried to figure out who this unfamiliar person happened to be. A friend? No. The expression on the drow’s face spoke of more. A lover? It had been two years, after all. There was a good chance that Brennia had finally found love and settled down. It was a strange thought - an avian mixing with drow, but Uriphiel would not judge. He could never judge his closest ally. “What… What happened, Brennia? Is it injury? Illness?” But, by the time Uriphiel turned around for an answer, the avian woman had already disappeared from the doorway. Unable to do much here, Uriphiel stepped back out into the hall, trying to discern where his friend had gone off to. He hadn’t heard the door burst open, nor any sort of vocalization when she was sucked into that room, so he was quite unaware of anything dire taking place. It was only when he saw the door to his former quarters was now open that he walked forward and stepped past the threshold, wondering what might be waiting for him on the other side.
  
  
• 
  [Brennia] would have probably woken up by now as the dream abruptly ends, but this time she is stolen to the wilds of the plane of dreams once more to fend for her life. Cut off from what remains of Uri's dream and all he will find is the room he moved on from just the way he left it… aside from one little detail. There is a crack in the floor where a chair had sat once during one of their talks in front of the fireplace. The marble spiders off in many directions from its epicenter where a flower vine has sprouted. It is like nothing he has probably ever seen before and a recall to their last conversation where they shared their favorite flowers. The exotic Jade Vine with its beautiful bright blue petals that grow along the vine and the shadowy room is illuminated by the subtle glow it emits… just as she described years ago. Will Uriphiel have the courage to venture back into Schezerade and find Brennia himself or will he just dream of the elusive avian once more?
  
  
• 
  [Uriphiel] When Uriphiel entered his quarters, he was overcome with memories of fonder times. He thought about how often he would sit by the hearth, collecting his thoughts about the events of long, arduous days, or when he’d have fireside chats with those he’d grown closest to - one in particular more than most. He smiled, almost forgetting why he’d entered the room in the first place. When he saw the flower, another fond memory came flooding back to him. It was a fundraiser. He had procrastinated in getting a suit, which left him to pick up whatever the tailor had left in stock. The suit was much too small, the shoes far too tight, and he could recall just feeling the most uncomfortable that he’d been in such a long time. However, his dearest friend, the one whom he’d gone to support, was there to ease his comfort by entertaining him with delightful conversation. They had been admiring the decorative azaleas along the path when the topic of favourite flowers came up. The Jade Vine. That’s what she had called it. And now, in his dream, he was able to see what looked very much like the flower she had described - and she was correct, it really was beautiful. Uriphiel reached out to touch a delicate petal when suddenly, there was a loud thud. Opening his eyes, the avian finds himself back in his dingy, decrepit room in the city of Cenril, where he hears another loud thud coming from the inconsiderate guests next door. He would lay there for some time, trying to figure out what exactly that dream meant. If that was in fact Brennia, then he would need to find a way into Schezerade to see her. However, this would take time. The potions he was currently consuming for disguise did not last long enough to take on any sort of meaningful tasks, and their efficacy was always something left to chance. If he had any hope of getting in, he would need to find a better method to hide his appearance. With a long, drawn out sigh, Uriphiel sits up and prepares to head out for another night of surveillance.