RP:Tread Softly For You Tread On My Dreams

Part of the Lies Within Us Arc

Summary: Quintessa and Lanlan convene in Cenril, venturing through the weave of dreams to find the stolen terramancer. Odhranos, ragged and hurt though he is, has been found. But time is not on our heroes' side.

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the dark cloths

Of night and light and the half light,

I would spread the cloths under your feet:

But I, being poor, have only my dreams;

I have spread my dreams under your feet;

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

The Goth Garden

Quintessa finishes roping off the gardens, signs alerting people that the area was ‘closed for maintenance’ displayed clearly for passersby just outside of the secluded location. With an exasperated sigh, the changeling looks at the spot she had chosen for a ritual circle and digs through her collection of artifacts and tools she had brought for the job. White and red chalk is drawn first, the young spellcaster proficiently scribing the runes onto the ground in a wide circle- wide enough to fit a small group of people if more than Lanlan or Valrae showed up. After all, Quintessa had extended her invitation to the Red Witch’s entire coven, and the dark fae had no idea how small or large that congregation of witches could be. A part of the girl half expected nobody to respond to her invitation at all, it wasn’t like Quintessa was the most trustworthy person in the world. She pauses as a pang of guilt and loneliness shoots through her, the piece of red chalk hovering just above the pavement as she silently muses about her past actions. Lying. Manipulation. Blackmail. Murder. Quintessa wasn’t a good person and she secretly hated herself because of it. “I can do better…” She mutters to herself, finishing the runes and putting the chalk away to retrieve Odhranos Kerrigan’s teapot to place it in the center of the five pointed star the changeling has has drawn, creating a focus directed at the object left in the middle. Surely the emotional connection to this teapot still existed and they could follow the thread right to the missing man. At least, that was what Quintessa was hoping would happen. If this failed they’d have to rely on the brass beetle Karasu had left to them. With her mismatched eyes of blue and hazel flickering upward, the dark fae checks to see if any of her guests have arrived yet. This anticipation was killing her.

Lanlan :: What a chilly evening it was today in Cenril. Cold enough to catch a...cold, or something much worse. Some people and gods would love for such a thing to happen to Lanlan, but he knows how to defend against it. Tightly shut windows, warm blankets, a fire. Being inside, essentially. But on such days as today when he had to travel, he'd bring inside with him. Hence he arrives at the bakery with a cloak pinned to his shoulders, it's thick and poofy. Almost like he yanked the comforter off his bed just moments ago. Notably, neither he nor his cloak touch the ground as he moves. Both just barely hover above while he lists lazily toward the bakery. It's open, the bakery is, and he's welcome. Expected. Wanted! Or at least perhaps, needed. He floats gently down into a chair and becomes a huddled bundle. "Coffee!" He whines crankily, then sniffles and looks at his empty table waiting for it to appear. "Coffee!" Eventually it comes, brought to him by a server who he doesn't even look at. "Thank you," he says and slides to gold circles their way. He huddles around his mug and warms his gloved hands on it like he was hoarding a precious treasure. He almost brings it to his lips. "Wait. I can't drink this. Take it back! Take it back and bring me tea! Herbal tea!" It takes longer than a minute, and he peers outside of his comforter-cloak out the window, where he sees Quintessa, already waiting for him. He looks away rebelliously. She can't make him rush. It was morning for him! Of course he slept during the day to get the most of the starry nights! But in the end, its him who can't wait any longer. "No tea," he says with a hint of remorse. "Or maybe I'll just take it to go..." He sulks outside and sniffles at Quintessa, announcing his arrival. "Is that Odhranos's teapot? Hm." He takes a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and throws the wad bouncing near the teapot. "He wrote on that. Signed his name and everything." He looked around at the ritual, nodding and 'hmming'. "Where's the beds."

Quintessa stares up at Lanlan blankly, eyes only blinking away to follow the wad of paper Lanlan added to the circle. After a second the young spellcaster nods with approval, standing up to dust herself before turning to face the Drow. “Beds?” Quintessa glances at the mats she had collected near the entrance from the bakery, and she can’t hide the amused smirk that tugs on the corner of her mouth. “I have taken to meditating while dream hopping, but I suppose you could lay out on the mats if you want to fully sleep during the ritual.” It suddenly occurred to Quintessa that the last time she and Lanlan had done something like this together they both had passed out on her infirmary floor. “...Or I could go find a bedroll for you.” The tone in that last sentence contained enough sarcasm that indicated that Quintessa was not about to search for a bedroll for him. “Did you bring any essence of nightshade? If not I have prepared plenty.” Quintessa bends over to retrieve a few small vials from her bag on the ground, the purplish liquid just visible through the glass. “But I could understand if you don’t want to drink any of my poison. Delisha knows I used to dream of poisoning you with something far more dangerous, and look- my first opportunity.” She laughs in spite of herself and straightens up, holding a vial out for him to take. “Lucky for you I don’t want to kill you anymore.”

Lanlan shivered a little and put his hands in his fluffy cloak. Some invisible rummaging, then he pulls out a small wooden box, filled with cigarettes, and one tiny cigarette sized metal tube. He pulls this out then puts the box back. "Ahhhh just in case." He pulls out a cigarette and lights it, inoculating himself against the disease ravaging these parts...supposedly. He blows out some smoke and grumbles at Quintessa, still cranky. Made crankier. "Fine. No beds." He sits down and begins getting comfy, using his arm as a pillow. "No beds. It's cold. We're outside. No tea." All this was going into the invisible ledger named, "Reasons You Owe Me." He continued after closing the book in his mind. "And definitely NO nightshade. That's not funny, we have to help Odhranos," he says, invoking the name of this guy manipulatively, "And Delisha doesn't know anything anyways," he says spitefully. "Okay are we ready?" He lifts up his head suddenly from his arm pillow. "I'm ready. See you wherever." And he puts the tiny cigarette sized metal tube in his mouth, replacing the cigarette, which he flicks over the fence. Then he mumbles under his breath, "And maybe I don't want to kill you anymore either. Maybe." Then he closes his eyes. Within moments he'll be snoring.

The Mage Tower

The evening wind creeps like a veil around the pair of dreamers, slumbering within the circle of chalk, the cold crowding with the darkness. As the ritual casts its line out into the aether, only the deafening silence of the void calls to answer. But yet, some pull remains. Like the slightest of tugs, no stronger than a breeze, Lanlan and Quintessa find themselves drawn up, pulled into the dark sky, until Cenril recedes into a patchwork of lamplights and gloom. The pull takes them westward, the threshing canopy of the Sage sliding beneath them like some living sea, ferrying them onward towards the heart of the darkness. Xalious. As the zenith of their flight breaks, immense forms rise from the darkness. Illuminated faintly by the sickly fading glow of the ailing tree, immense pillars of shadow loom like fell sentinels, impossibly thin and ludicrously tall. The pull is stronger here, and no time is spared for the pair to study these alien constructs, but as they are dragged past beyond the line of pillars, the dim light highlights something to Lanlan. Something unfortunately familiar. Etched into the stone, the brief glimpse of a Robelous rune is whisked into the night, as Quintessa and Lanlan near the edifice of the Mage Tower, once a home, now ominous in its unfamiliarity. Drawn in closer, the vast stone wall expands to fill their view then suddenly, with a whispering rush of darkness, they sink through the stone and find themselves in a room, wreathed in shadows. No light, not even so much as a window punctures this chamber, but to the unnatural eyes of the ghostly two, a form can be made out at the heart of this prison. Suspended, arms outstretched like some ungodly deity, a man hangs limp. From his wrists, glassy chains of ice stretch to anchor in the far walls of this frozen call, while his eyes are hidden by a band of torn fabric, knotted about his head like a mask. A loincloth permits him the barest modesty, but the rest of his body is a tapestry of torment. Scars, wounds, some old, some new, some ragged and others horribly precise, Odhranos hangs with the pale aura of the dead, save for the barest plume of mist from between his chapped lips. Though the terramancer may be found, who can truly say how much remains?

Lanlan opens his eyes again and bends his neck to Quintessa who's right there. "Stop speaking that nonsense, I'm trying to sleep!" Then he realizes, he is asleep. Bundled up in a cocoon of blankets, he's taken on the shape of a chrysalis, but wrapped in gray and gold paisley cushion. Only his face pokes out of his wraps. "Ah. I see it's working. Excellent! Good." The ground shrinks below them, and fortunately, so does the fishy smell of Cenril. Wonderful. They fly over Sage, it feels like they're going very fast, but yet, Lanlan feels no discomfort from the amount of wind batting his face. He's able to look, and catches a glimpse of something ominous. "Did you see that? That symbol on the pillar!" He needed to know if he imagined it or someone else. No time to know, they were being reeled through scenes too fast. He blinks one time and suddenly he's flying through a wall, or being eaten by it, in the Mage's guild. "I hate this place," says Lanlan, "It's so ugly, look at it. And I wish to leave." Possibly he's taken in some of the ambient energy directly to his head. Then he sees Odhranos and instantly he's forced to look away. "Eff the gods look at him," Lanlan says to himself. "No way," he says looking accusingly at Quintessa. "Who's dream is this? His?" He looks back at Odhranos and wages some sort of internal battle. Briefly. "Fine." Lanlan's blanket twists off him and flies toward Odhranos, wrapping him up. Now Lanlan can talk to him. "What's up, Stupid," he begins. "You know where you are? You're in...you're in a bakery. Smell that? Coffee and donuts. Fresh bread!" His first instinct is to try to impose some of his will on this place, but if he can't do that, maybe he can get Odhranos to do it himself.

Quintessa is too consumed with trying to seek out the terramancer to take note of the symbol on the pillar, so the wraithlike form of the girl turns her head to catch a glimpse but the moment has been lost. “No, I am sorry.” Her voice echoes as her astral form creates words to communicate with him, but her lips do not move. Once they had found Odhranos in his prison, chained up like some sacrifice, the changeling is overcome by pity and remorse, her skinny arms wrapping around herself in an attempt to contain her emotions. Flashbacks of rattling chains and polished marble floors come flooding to Quintessa, the Magister’s trial from long ago. The judge’s words ring out in her mind saying, ‘For the crime of defiling the purity of the Most High Princess of Kayvan…’ but she shakes herself free of the memories and moves to touch his face, her astral form passing through his flesh due to her immaterial body. “We are still between dreams.” Quintessa sorrowfully informs Lanlan as her sapphire and topaz eyes find him once more. “What we are seeing… Is real.” The changeling catches on to what Lanlan was attempting to do and raises her hand to Odhranos’ forehead, trying to induce a lucid dream of being in a bakery, the scent of coffee and doughnuts attempting to manifest in his mind. Maybe this would work- give him a small dream of simpler times. Seeing Quintessa and Lanlan here shouldn’t be too odd to the terramancer, right?

Odhranos does not respond. Not so much as a hitch in his breath, faint as it is. Were it not for the lightest of mist from his breathing, Quintessa wouldn't be wrong to assume he was dead. As she touches his forehead, the pull that drew them here renews itself, and like an inkblot of light, the dark and sordid cell is wiped clean, replaced by something, somewhere else. The quiet tinkling of spoons on ceramic, the warm earthy spice of coffee grounds, the homely scent of fresh pastry washes over them as the light eases itself, leaving behind the golden afternoon light, filtering between the stretched fabric of the canopy. Pale figures walk past, bustling quietly on their way across the cobbles of the street, while some converse over tea or scones. One table, tucked under the café's canopy, seats a single occupant, who sips his cup gingerly, placing it down with tender care, before he turns to face these two visitors, so vibrant in their clarity in this faint and indistinct facsimile of Kelay. Odhranos smiles gently and waves them over, beckoning them to sit with a kindly gesture. "I thought I'd be seeing you two, come, sit. Take the weight off your feet." So violently juxtaposed to the sorry state he is in reality, within the sanctuary of his mind, this Odhranos seems calm, happy, even unworried. "It's been some time, hasn't it. Lanlan, how are you?" The terramancer's tone is gentle, even soft as he stands to pull out chairs for the new arrivals.

Lanlan glances from Quintessa then back to Odhranos. "Then he's alive. Wonder why that is?" Clearly Haladavar needed him alive for some reason, otherwise he'd be dust. Valrae alluded to this, he remembers. But he didn't bother investigating why or how she knew. "And that also means Haladavar's plans, whatever they may be...aren't finished!" Now that Lanlan had rationalized a perfectly good reason to rescue Odhranos, he could acknowledge that he actually wanted to. He saunters over happily to the human, crossing mountains, roads, trees and through the doors of a building and sits in front of him, in a comfy chair in a cozy and warm bakery. Lanlan's wearing traveling clothes now, having no use for his fluffy blanket. But Lanlan can feel the fragility of this place. "Coffee for me, tea for him," Lanlan calls out to no one in particular, expecting someone to exist now that there was a purpose, reinforcing this illusion. "It's been a while," the gray elf confirms. This is awkward, Lanlan doesn't want to ask how he is because Odhranos has been known to be honest most of the time. So he curates his thoughts. "You're looking...better than I expected!"

Quintessa nods her head at Lanlan. “Yes, of course. If he wasn’t then the spell would have failed, but I had faith that he was still alive.” Her brow furrows slightly at the name the Drow spoke. “Haladavar, yes. I still know very little about what motivates him or the Order- eternal life, perhaps? It’s not easy to read megalomaniacs…” Quintessa hesitates for a moment, allowing Lanlan to join Odhranos first before she follows behind, a tray of tea and coffee for the three of them manifesting in her hands as she nears them. “Of course,” Quintessa says cheerfully to Lanlan, flashing the two of them a smile as she pours them both their drinks in the waiting mugs on the table. “Would you like sugar or milk?” Quintessa’s demeanour has completely changed from the tired, depressed woman that was meditating back in Cenril to the intense and excitable girl she was when she had first been promoted to Arcane Stewart, and her smile betrays no knowledge of the horrible things she had experienced since then. Once the two had been served, she poured her own cuppa and joined them. “It’s good to see you as well,” The changeling carefully blows the steam from her tea. “It’s funny how our lives take us to places we never expected to be, put us in situations that we can’t seem to get out of…” Quintessa sips her tea, testing the temperature as her mismatched eyes appraise the two men seated with her.

Odhranos returns to his seat and accepts the tray from Quintessa with a grateful smile and places it down so she can more easily distribute their drinks. "Sugar, if it's not troublesome. Thank you." Odhranos speaks quietly, a soft smile touching his cheeks as he accepts the cup, stirring it slowly as he watches the beige liquid swirl, savoring even the crystal clink of spoon against ceramic. "Yes, I'd imagine I do. As do you. Look well, I mean." The terramancer's eyes squint amiably as he smiles, raising his cup to take a sip, which is savored slowly, Odhranos relishing even more than usual in the delights of tea. "Mmm, yes. It's a funny thing. So chaotic and unpredictable. But, somehow predictable for all that. I had a feeling I would see you both, before the end. I'm glad I was right." Odhranos places his cup down and waves his hand as if to dispel what he had just said. "But don't mind that. I'm sure you came for something more than tea. What can I help you with?"

Lanlan knew how to read Haladavar perfectly. Just read the first few pages and then skip to the end. That's what he wanted to do. Finish the story of Haladavar. "Neither," said Lanlan without looking. Black coffee was good coffee. "Actually," he said, remembering that there were no dietary restrictions in a dream, "Actually, both." Then he sees who it is. What a predicament. Too late to object now. This whole dream was getting weirder and weirder. "What can -you- help -us- with?" He looked at Quintessa and then back to Odhranos with incredulity. "Tell us where you are."

Quintessa leans forward to answer the question before Odhranos can, her mind filtering back to their quick approach to the terramancer’s mind. “Xalious,” the changeling seems sure of it. “Didn’t you recognize it? The tree, the tower- Wherever they took him they didn’t go far…” Quintessa takes a drink of her tea while she considers a question. She wanted to know why the Order was keeping him alive but she didn’t know how to ask in a way that wouldn’t alarm him. Suddenly something comes back to her; Wasn’t she tasked to spy on Odhranos before and figure out what he was researching? Quintessa sets her mug down on the table before herself and folds her delicate hands behind it. “What were you researching in Frostmaw?” The dark fae asks softly, her head tilting slightly as she gauges the Magister’s expression. Maybe if Quintessa knew more about what they were after she could help piece this whole thing together for them.

Odhranos nods in agreement with Quintessa. "Ah. So I am back in the Tower then. I've been moved at least four times. It's impossible to tell, sometimes the air feels different, how the cell is laid out, who the interrogator is. I never feel the travel, only the differences. If I've been brought back to the Tower again… well, I knew it was only a matter of time until..." Odhranos' tone of voice is sad, but he perks back up at Quintessa's question. A small smile plucks his mouth upwards. "No point in secrecy anymore, I suppose." Odhranos lifts his mug and drains it, setting it down with a solid clink. "I was researching soul-binding. In particular, the innate synergy between Robelous runes, and soul magic." Odhranos chuckles softly as he stares down at his lap, a despondent expression in his eyes. "This whole situation is my fault. I danced to Haladavar's tune long before he ever left that amber prison, and what's worse is, I thought I was doing good. I thought I had changed, that this time I would actually make a positive change." Odhranos turns to face Quintessa and smiles sadly. "Looks like nothing has changed."

Lanlan nods, "Yes, yes, YES, of course I know it was in Xalious. But if we're gonna break him out of a dungeon, they can't know we're coming. So we'll have to be sneaky. To be sneaky we'll have to be small in number. So we'll be outnumbered. So we have to know exactly where we're going because (let's face it) some of us are probably going to die." This is all half whispered to Quintessa, but Odhranos can likely hear everything that goes on in this place anyways. And its hard for Lanlan to interrupt his own train of thought while he's dreaming, everything seems to come out as fast as he can think it. Its all stream of consciousness. And Odhranos's line of thinking is even more arousing. "Soul magic? Didn't think you dabbled in that type of thing, Odhranos. And it's not your fault, it's nobody's fault. You know how I know? Because I'm the one who let him out, and I KNOW it isn't my fault." Lanlan paused for a brief second. "It's Haladavar, that fiend. And we'll get him. You know we'll get him. But alright. The air feels different." Lanlan knew that air -did- feel different. Especially when you were deep underground. "How. Stagnant? Humid? Breezy? What?"

Quintessa couldn’t help but grimace at Lanlan as she blurts out the question, “Going to die??” much louder than the Drow had half whispered. The Arcane Stewardess had seen enough of her friends die or go missing for this year, she wasn’t looking forward to losing more just to get one back. “Look, if we are going to do this you need to take people who are too stubborn to die- and I already have two girls in mind for this.” Mismatched eyes return to the human with a glint of curiosity. “Of course.” Things were all coming together for her in her mind. “That explains the piece of amber Brenwyn left behind. When Haladavar was still inhabiting his body he told me to take this object from his body and keep it safe. After a bit of research I discovered that it was a soul harnessing artifact related to the Robelous Tribe- but none of that made any sense to me then… But now…” Quintessa sighs and shakes her head. “Yes, they are most likely keeping him in a hidden room in the lower levels. Karasu and I used to play pranks on Hengsun down there. It’s the only place in the whole tower I’ve seen chains like the ones they’ve put Odhranos in.” Quintessa shivers at the thought of being placed in iron chains like Kaaname had threatened her with, and she knew exactly where to find them but she was too scared to go herself. “Rilla. Take my ally Rilla with you- she’s the best reconnaissance expert I’ve ever met and the Order doesn’t know her face. With her with you, you won’t fail.”

Odhranos laughs. "No, you're right. It isn't particularly my thing at all. I much prefer relics, artefacts, trying to piece apart and understand the crumbs that are left behind, to note them down in my journals to be forgotten once again. If that were all I had done, then we likely wouldn't be in this mess. But then I found S'erok, and set myself down this path that led me here." Odhranos shrugs, reaching across for the teapot to top up his cup. "I swore I would do whatever it took to free him from that cage, and so I have spent the past two years trying to reverse engineer the cage's magic. Exactly as the Ossian Order intended." A spoonful of sugar is added and the spoon runs idly around the cup, clinking daintily in the unnatural quiet that pervades this strangely placid scene. "To know how to unmake something like this, you need to know how to make it in the first place. So I researched, I pulled the pieces together, and with a final nudge from the Order, I had to culminate my learning to save Valrae. In doing so, I handed Haladavar the final piece he needed for his plans. What the Guild managed to halt a hundred years ago, I undid in a year. Thinking that I would be more careful than those that sought to bury this knowledge. Thinking I wouldn't stumble where my predecessors fell. Well…" Odhranos picks up his cup, but his hand shakes, and some of the tea spills out over the rim, prompting him to quickly place it down. "Once again, I bringing those I cared about down with me." Suddenly, the scene shudders around them. Odhranos' neat robes flash to torn and bloodied scraps, his wrists bound in thick manacles of solid blue ice, and his eyes bound in fabric, while around him, Kelay vanishes into the endless darkness of the void. The second passes and the pleasant road-side cafe has returned, but Odhranos is still shaken, his hands trembling gently. "I knew you'd come, and I was so afraid that you would." He whispers, his words halting and quiet. "The one who I never did right by, and the one who I wronged." Odhranos clasps his shaking hands then looks up to meet their eyes. Strangely enough, he looks happy, even as tears burgeon at the corners of his eyes. "There's so much I wanted to say, but most of all, I'm sorry." The terramancer laughs, a sad lilting laugh even as he palms away his tears. "I'm just glad I got the opportunity before they kill me."

Lanlan shook his head and threw up his hands, "Yes? Die? People die every day. Not me of course." This was something Lanlan was extremely proud of. But the evidence was strong enough in Quintessa's case, he was probably going to concede to a recon mission. And her vision of getting Rilla to do it. "Good idea, the recon mission will be extremely dangerous, better we outsource it to people outside the guild." After an all too brief conversation and pleasant stay at a bakery, the scene falls away to the ugly one, with Odhranos tied up and tortured. Lanlan looks away from him, unable to share in the sincerity of the moment even now. "You're not dead, so you can wait til you see me in person. Or until you're a ghost? Either way it won't be long now. Apology declined. Glad you're alive though. Atta boy."

Quintessa feels the energy and emotion in her being contract as the scene changed suddenly around them, causing her material body back in Cenril to inhale sharply as she struggled to maintain her connection to his mind. Her astral form becomes ethereal, and then vanishes for a moment before the changeling blinked back into existence among the bakery once more, not missing a beat. “Besides,” Quintessa says, her eyes harboring sorrow for the crime she was about to admit to commiting. “You never did anything wrong; It was my false testimony that got Lanlan ejected from the Guild. You couldn’t help him back then because I stacked the deck- and the Ossian Order helped me do it. In short, I’m the one that owes both of you, so let me take the blame. After the things I’ve done this is a small burden to carry in comparison.”

Odhranos is stunned. Shocked even. The apology of a condemned man, and Lanlan brushes it off like it's absolutely nothing. It's… almost enough to make one laugh. And laugh Odhranos does. Beginning with a stifled chuckle, then developing into full bellied laughter, Odhranos rocks back in his chair as he clutches his stomach. "You're the worst! Sven above!" Odhranos giggles, wiping his eyes as his shoulders shake with his chuckles. "Oh, bless me. Nothing ever fazes you, does it? Oh, Xalious bless." Odhranos' laughter eases and he calms himself, the shaking in his hands now vanished entirely. "I'll say this once, and then we shall never discuss it again, but bloody hell, I missed you, Lan, you bastard." Odhranos places his palms on the table, marveling at how such bluntness can calm him down, despite everything that looms over him. "I'll humour you by saving my apologies. That, or I'll save them for when I haunt you for a hundred years. Your choice." A rare smirk is levelled at Lanlan as around them, the cafe fades into whiteness, leaving the trio standing in the blank white expanse of the dreamscape. As he stands, Odhranos turns to Quintessa, an unreadable expression on his face. "You know, I've had suspicions about you for a long time. Kasyr admitted he never gave the testimony. S'erok told me that you entered my dream once before to spy on me, and Tsuola told me that you had intentions of harming the Holy Trees. Intentions, that seem to have come to pass. I have every right not to trust you, so I want you to listen carefully to what I have to say." Odhranos leans forward, bringing his eyes level with the changeling, displaying a stern iron-will gaze that studies her intently. "I do not care. I choose to trust you. I want to trust you. Don't let the bias of others' suspicions colour your fate. I could see it happening in the Guild, but I was too caught up in my own worries to say a word. So you'll permit me this chance to say it while I still have the chance. I know that you are a good soul, and you have the capacity for good deeds. For what it is worth, you have my faith." Odhranos' eyes soften and he breaks into a smile. "So take the words of an old professor to heart, eh?" Odhranos tucks his hands into his pockets and faces the pair, a gentle smile gracing his face as he looks upon two friends. "Whatever happens, I wish you both the best and happiest of lives. May we meet again." With that, darkness erupts from the verges of the white void, and the dream ends.

Lanlan slams his hands on the table and jumps out of his seat. "AHA! You finally admit it!" Lanlan's triumph lasted exactly one second, before he realizes that yes, Quintessa did admit to the thing, in a dream. Great. Also there was no Mage's Guild anymore, the stakes were all done now. "...Not that I care. I've long forgiven you for that," he lies. But maybe now he can begin to make it true. Conditional of course on the success of the several deadly missions that now lie before them. Which are almost forgotten in the face of Odhranos's radical sincerity. Lanlan's forced into a weird state of being, where he's confronted with what might be genuine affection from a friend who, ah! but this was just a dream. "Since this is all in your head," Lanlan says reassuring himself, "I can safely admit that I missed you too, for a while now. You're one of the only idiots out there who I'd ever say that to, though. Even in a dream. So." He eyes both Odhranos and Quintessa and targets them with threatening index fingers. Then he turns around, intending to walk off into the darkness and let him and her have their moment. "Wait! I almost forgot!" The thing he put in his mouth when he went to bed, the thing he smuggled. He spits it out. "Take this, hide it. Think on it when you need it. It'll be there." It was a tiny, tiny cigarette sized cylinder, that could telescope impossibly to the size of a magic wand when willed to do so. "Alright." Then Lanlan exploded into a cloud of butterflies and woke up.

Quintessa was on the verge of tears after hearing Odhranos speak. He had been there all along as she spun a web of lies in the Mage’s Guild, sacrificing her humanity for political prestige along the way. He had witnessed her poison a child to subdue him and now knew the truth of her treachery against Lanlan, yet he still stood here and professed his faith in her, and the dark fae was moved by this action. “I-” Quintessa cannot speak, her throat almost completely clenched shut as tears stream down her face. First Karasu had forgiven her for her evil deeds and now Odhranos had without needing anything more than the friendship she had offered them a little over a year ago. The changeling was starting to understand why her partner still gazed upon Magister Kerrigan with such affection; Somewhere in her half-human heart she was starting to feel it too. “I’m not worthy of this kindness-” Quintessa sobs as her form begins to fade from view slowly, like a cloud of dust being blown away by the end of the dream. Quintessa panics as she takes note- She still had more to say! “I promise I’m going to help save you!” She says, fighting through her tears, “We -will- meet again...”(Again) (again) With a final gust of wind, Quintessa astral body crumbles and blows away, and returns her consciousness to her physical form- snapping her out of her meditation and ending the ritual. Now the real work begins.