The more Paray fought and flailed the tighter the pain constrained It. Trapped and suffocating, like a Dreamer in one of Its own specialized nightmares, Paray couldn't wake up, no matter how hard it tried. Couldn't escape the horrific spell. Luci had inadvertently pulled the same trick Paray ployed on countless other souls, forcing them to the mirror.
Reflected from within her It saw love, and a profound yearning to both share Itself, and experience a deep, endless companionship. In the instance of their shared look it dawned on the pair that they were reflecting the same truths back to one another. Once noticed, the corners of their respective mirrors fractalled and spiralled about them in a dancing double helix.
Their moment was only that. As fast as the sweet epiphany struck was as quick as she disappeared. They'd only just found each other. A connection never known to Paray before, never imagined, lost before it could flourish. Gone without a chance to be embraced.
Paray tore from the mountain with a new resolve and purpose. Fuelled by a pristine source, Luci's pure spark. No corner would missed, no cupboard neglected, no stone unturned, until they reunited and their light mixed again.
It hurtled toward the horizons, ripping through dream after dream with zero regard to continuity, or Its purpose and duty to the Dreamers. Paray tore the very fabric apart from the obstacles in Its path, desperate to find Luci, aching for any clue, or sign. All to no avail. The Nightmare had never known exhaustion before, never knew hopelessness, save for in the eyes of the Dreamers. Prior to meeting Luci, Paray had never felt anything aside from idle curiosity. Since their time together an onslaught of unknown or explored feelings, and emotion avalanched upon the agonized Nightmare. Burying It under an insurmountable weight.
A protective stone encasement long cast around Paray's heart had broken. It spiralled and spiralled until the disorientated Nightmare felt nothing but lost. The experience was so different and disarming, Paray, for the first time, stayed still. Thoughts swung from a numbed static, to flared infernos. Until It lay paralysized by Its grief.
In Paray's pause a Dreamer neared. Without hesitation a vicious limb shot and grabbed the wandering soul, and pried him from whatever illusion he'd concocted. Like a fly in a web Paray strung the poor man, dangling, and subjecting him to the whims of his feelings, with no mind for tact, no attention to detail. It peeled layer after layer as it skinned the unfortunate's psyche to the bone.
While in Its mediative process of systematic torture Paray relived conversations with the only other Dreamer It'd connected with. The gentle old man whom It'd adorned the Dream Walker. Curious, brilliant, with a funny accent, cascading wrinkles, and a small mischievious white moustache. The man named this realm the Collective, and came to visit from time to time when he willed it. Within their conversations Paray found Itself giving answers to the Swiss man's questions It'd never considered, though always known. Verbalizing the intuitive truths had been curious, though not shocking to the Nightmare.
After a certain point, Paray noticed that without note or reason the old man simply never returned. Only now, sifting through memory, searching for clues how It might find Luci, did Paray question how long it had been since he'd seen him. Paray had never given the absences much thought, the old man was there or not. When he was Paray would pause, they would walk, they would speak. When he wasn't Paray would exist as It always did. Not pining for company, though grateful when It's aging friend appeared. No sound marked the old man's departures. The change was never as sudden or abrupt as Luci's. Their goodbyes weren't jarring, nor surprising. His form would simple brighten to the point of translucence, then with a satisfied yawn, he'd be gone.
Paray was meticulous as it dissected the past. There was nothing. It begged Itself for a solution. And received silence, save for trembling hoarse pleads from the ensared Dreamer cursed to wear the masks of Paray's memories. Focus returned, and hurt manifested as rage. It sprang to the webbing, and scampered about until the Dreamer screamed himself awake.
The encounter was another first. Never had Paray tormented another to expell Its own anger. The action broke a bloated dam. Paray released a running onslaught, removed of any urge to help or show guidance to the Dreamers. It was only pain. Only fury. Paray tormented them without shame and guilt. Pulling out the worst of their unkindesses and cruxifying them with it. Until the exhaustion returned, and Paray drowned Dreamers in a shared sorrow, and a relentless weeping.
In the Collective, Time's relevance is fickle at best. It meant nothing to Paray, there was no tell in regards to how long It remained suspended, and floundering. It could have been moments, could've been aeons. For the poor Nightmare, hours away from Luci were eternities. It took Itself to the ground, and lay in a full collapse. Shrinking to a pinpoint.
From the bottom of Its ocean of sorrow Paray resurfaced, and marched. Moments were as quick in movement as before but their monotony increased to insuffereable level. Paray had nothing, only emptiness and a few shining memories of Luci. It couldn't bargain, or trade, It couldn't intimidate anything, there was nothing but dreams. Paray could choose to bury the union and try to return to It's old ways, or keep searching and move to evolve. The chance of even a glimmer of her was worthy of another push.
A renewed, albit revised, search began. The steps were more calculated and measured. Paray excavated the timeless scape, moving now in a singular direction, determined to find an edge. From there to the next corner and so on. Without Luci, there was nothing, and within the nothingness, there was nothing else to do that seek. Outside of the movement, Paray behaved as It had before, pausing for Dreamers, though now with a more placid, and kinder resolve. Paray was beyond using them as a tool for Its emotions, and faced them with stark candour. No games were played. Things were as honest, blunt, and brutal as the Dreamer's subconscious begged for.
There was no marker, no count of Dreamers, no structures or landscapes, that lasted. Nothing informed Paray on how far It'd travelled. The dreams however, became gentler. The Dreamers, themselves calmer, wiser, more cordial. A pattern revealed itself in the Dreamer's wrinkles, and frailty. Paray found Itself, taking more time with the individuals, and reciprocating their patience, and care back. They, in varying degrees, reminded him of his Old Friend, eager for conversation, though generally, far less engaging than they were pleasant.
While there was no marked progress, things were fine, things were calm. Where Paray's pace had eased Its determination did not. Direction remained the same, until all at once the horizon fluttered and shimmered. The ripples were hard to make sense of. An iridescent veil rolled like chop across a vertical ocean, running to the heavens for as far as Paray's gaze would allow forward. The colours and field remind It of the wake that had followed Luci's movements.
At once Paray was at its border, the fabric hummed and buzzed like a warm electric choir. It's hand reached forth and stroked the veil. In an instant It's hand became a claw and tore at the delicate field. To no avail. Paray's forearm simply sank through.
And so It stepped.
And the vibrations tore at It. Each molecule ripping, and sewing, as if Paray was the dream and the Veil the Nightmare. Yet as terrifying as the feeling was it was pleasant. Paray let the colours wash over until It was through.
On the other side the rules had changed. Where before there was nothing but everything, the otherside had nothing but consuming darkness. Beyond black. The ambience wasn't unpleasant, nor empty, the space felt brimming with a light and energy beyond perception. Whisking through it was was snaking river, formed from glowing mist, not unlike the veil behind. The river was wide, yet depthless, it appeared to be but a surface. From It's haunches Paray twisted Its gaze and found the river's mirror.
Nearing the edge Paray peered in searching for Luci. A few yards away a moaning face breached the surface like a bubble. Beside it another, until the entire upper layer began a slow boil. Poor souls flailed for a breath. In their splashes Paray could see the memories It'd knew instinctually from the dreamers. The hidden hurts. Their sins and misdeeds. The weights of suffering they'd caused now drowned them. Eyes from the water looked to Paray as they choked, begging for an aid It couldn't provide, before they sunk never to return.
Most, but not all. Few rose. They stood, pulling themselves from the water with ease, golden memories tumbling from their bodies back to the surging river. They stood brighter even than Luci. The stepped over the river, at times reaching for those struggling but never successfully. The more they reached the faster the flounder fell, plummeting below the surface from whence they came. When they looked up, upwards they'd ascend.
They'd beam down, down to the lost. The final droplets falling downwards like blessing. A few would notice Paray on the shore and wave. Their gaze felt familiar, full and kind. They felt like Luci, similar though not the same. As Paray watch them skyward Its eyes refocused, and It noticed those hanging from the Heavens like stars. Too far to tell if they were suspended or still moving.
So Paray sat and watched in awe at the dance across the river. Some moments were quiet, some were a rush. A ballet of beauty and tragedy spawning and swimming. As if summoned, Paray reached for the misting river, and gave Itself a ritualistic baptism. The colours reverberated over It, piercing deep. Paray drank It's fill. Dehydrated from awe for longer than It'd known.
With that Paray stood, and walked back to the veil. It hadn't found her here, but perhaps, something beyond, something deeper. There was nothing left for It at the river, and Paray slipped again through the fabrics, waltzing through the tearing, and returned to the dreaming Unconscious changed. Ready for the next unknown.
That wraps Part 2 of the 3 part series Night Mirrors! Be sure to check out the prelude, Sowed, and catch the next
Thanks for reading, and- stay tuned!
-Mr. Write