[APHXDA] The Dreamer and The Dream Reaper

One night, when Feynriel sleeps, he dreams.

He found himself not in the Fade he’s expecting to be, but on a humble villa in Kirkwall. He looks around on the deary walls well-lighten from the lamps hung on it. He wondering why he dreams of this place in all places. He’s not even living in Hightown (an apostate who has a blood of an elf, and his mother’s an elf. Who wants him to be one of Kirkwall’s circle of nobles?). Plus, Kirkwall was never merciful to the mages, more on apostates (mages not under the Circle, or ‘rebel mages,’ if one persists), under Knight-Commander Meridith’s iron hand. A paranoid woman, he thinks. Always rambling about mages and blood magic.

A voice calls his name, his eyes widening at the familiarity on it. He turns and found his father. A merchant from Antivia. He was smiling at him.

“Ah, Feynriel, my boy!” he exclaims. “You have come home!”

He steps back. He had faced this similar scene before in Kirkwall. The very incident that made his mind to go to Teventer to learn his powers.

“Don’t be scared, son,” he says, furrowing his brows in sorrow. “I was a coward. Please forgive me for what I have done to your mother and you.”

“How would I know you are real?”

He looks at him, pain clear to his eyes. And the young mage felt his heart skip a beat painfully.

“I’m real, Feynriel. Everything’s fine now. I can support you and your mother.”

He steps towards Feynriel, who also took a step back. As the merchant advanced to him, he ceased to step back and in time, he hugged the mage.

It’s warm and comfy, and he thinks this is weird because he’s in a dream, he knows it, he should feel anything, but how his heart beat rapidly and his eyes already leaking tears contradicts it and he can’t help it but hug him back.

“There, there…” he murmurs, patting his hair. “Go to sleep. The next day will be brighter.”

And he sleeps.
_

He wakes, and finds himself seeing the face of his master.

An elegant woman, but also an odd one, as the society gossips. She is richer than the most nobles here, one of the famous Altus even. The oddity which she possessed is her humility and importance of life. She was offered to govern, to reign, but she refuses, simply stating she is satisfied with what she has; a simple noble life with a considerate reputation that makes cocky magistrates reconsider their choice of fighting her.

She smiles at him. “Having a good dream?”

Feynriel blinks, and he nodded, smiling as the memories of his dreams washed over him like a tidal wave.

“That’s good,” her voice dropped into a murmur. “I feared that demons shall try to take you. People with your ability; we Tevene calls it ‘somniari’, also with the elves, specifically Dalish elves, are much too vulnerable to them if quite inexperienced.”

“Somniari?”

“’Dreamers’ in a simpler sense.”

“Ah. Well… It’ll be not my first time if that happens.”

“Speaking truthfully, I’ll be more surprised if you don’t.” She stands from her stool, beckoning Feynriel to do the same. “Come, let us start the day.”

-

“Think of it like painting, using graceful strokes. Now, wave your hand… just like that, and then… let it burst!”

A loud deafening bang resounded the room, and he fell down on his rear. He panted, sweat beading on his brows.

“Not bad for a first timer,” his master says. “But we need to work on your accuracy. Maker knows how bad things will be if you hit someone with that.”

She strode towards him and helped him rose to his feet. “It’s afternoon already. I believe Feliciano has prepared us snacks. Let us not leave the snacks to cool. It will be not a waste. We can continue tomorrow.”

-

He dreams the same dream again.

He’s back on the same house again. And his father went out to greet him. He hugs him and speaks things he’s interested about, which startled him for he, as long as he had this dream, never told his father about them. But he finds that it doesn’t really bother him. Then his father stands and held out his hand.

“Come, let’s go to your room. There is something I must show you.”

They cross to a brightly-lighted hallway, and they enter a room with a large bed on the center. On each end of the room lies bookshelves of great size. He strode over the shelves. The books were magic-related, something that might give an extremist templar a heart attack. He stares at his room in wonder.

“Father, how did you get all of these?” he gapes, staring at his father.

A laugh. “Well, the templars are not that attentive to books so…”

“Father!” he laughs. He can’t help it.

-

He wakes, and he found his master opening his door as he sat up.

“You’re awake,” she speaks, smooth and coolly. “And in a perfect moment, no less. Dress quickly. A challenger comes.”

Her voice has no leeway for disobedience, so he got up and do what she says.

-

“Evangeline Kirkland! You blasted bitch who killed my former master, I will take my revenge on you!”

He stares at the man; a pudgy magister who seems to be fond of indulging of material and temporary things, and turns to his master, indifferent with his words. She shuffles her feet and struck her staff on the ground.

“Is that why you come here, insulting me like a child who’s toys has been broken because of their own tantrum and blame it on others? My, what a ‘professional’ mage you are.”

The man fumes in rage and readies his staff. “I’ll make you eat your words!”

“Make me,” she taunts, a villainous smirk on her face.

-

As the magister drops on the floor as a cold corpse and his apprentice ran away screaming, Feynriel has to remind himself that no matter how caring is she to others, she has the very potential to make others bow to her power. She sniffs in distaste and strides away from the body. He must have worn a horrified expression since she stops on her steps, her eyes furrowing.

“Feynriel, are you afraid of me?”

He blinks. And his voice dropped into a murmur, “Well… you’re kind and caring to others, unlike some mages here. But sometimes… I forget that you can terrifying.”

She laughs, and approached her student. “I have trained some mages before. And every one of them has their own special magic. And they have said the same thing!” She smiles and led him back to her house. “Now Feynriel, let me train you to become one of finest mages Thedas ever have, like I have done to others before you.”

-

He dreams again, but this time, he’s back on his mother’s house.

He was on a seat, and his mother strode left to right. She was muttering something in Elvish and she turned towards him.

“Feynriel, when do you know about these abilities?”

She sounds scared, and he was confused. What happened? He glances out of the window and found a stall which was missing some of its roof, and he remembers his discovery of his magic. That wasn’t a pleasant day.

“Just now, mother,” he heard himself say, in his trembling voice he possessed when he was a child. “I’m-I’m sorry! I’ll try to control it, but don’t send me to the Circle!”

A rapid knock on their door, and he felt his heart rose its beat.

“Hide on the cupboard,” he hear his mother say. “Don’t make a sound.”

He follows what he was ordered. And he curls himself in the darkness. He can hear her talk to someone; a templar, he remembers. They seem to fight, and not long while, it became silent.
He fears what happened to his mother, until a soft knock came to the cupboard.

“Feynriel?” The smoothing voice of his mother came. “The templar’s gone. You can come out now.”

He slowly came out from the cupboard, and he found himself being swept into his mother’s embrace.
He hears her crying softly.

“Son… my child, my blood…”

“Mother…”

-

He wakes and found himself crying.

He sat up and looks out from his window. Sunrise, still too early, but he wipes away his tears and got up, changing his sleepwear to his daily clothes. He hears a knock on his door.

“Wait, let me change!”

He quickly change to his clothes and head towards to his door. He opened it and found his master.

“Master!” he exclaimed. “It’s early in the morning.”

“Indeed, and I have to go out for a while.” She smiles. “You may study the books I gave you yesterday. Consider this as your assignment.”

She may have noticed the redness of his eyes for she questioned; “Are you crying?”

“Uh… I placed dust on my eyes and have to rub it off.”

“On both eyes?”

He nodded, hoping she will leave the subject alone.

She quirked an eyebrow. “Well, if that’s the case, I assume you are fine. Just do what you’re tasked to do. I expect that you will finish at least 1 of those. Farewell”

She left from his room. And he sighed in relief.

-

He had not contacted with Hawke for a year now, he realized.

The stories of her defeating the Arishok still circulates, but the news of her bringing destruction
to Kirkwall has been more famous currently. He had heard that with her friends and brother, they have fled from Kirkwall, and nobody has seen them for now. He remembers Hawke; an intimidating individual, but also has a big heart. She masks her kindness through her wit and sarcasm. He also remembers her friends. Like what Hawke had said before he left, they are 'a merry band of misfits,' only cut the merry. He also remembers the intimidating Guard-Captain and a former slave from Teventer. They were not so merry. He wonders how they are faring now.

“Feynriel?”

He jolts out from his reverie, hearing a startled “Ve!” as he did so. He glanced at the one who called him.

“Oh… Feliciano, it’s you.”

Feliciano. One of the reasons why they find his master an oddity. He serves her yet he’s not a slave. In fact, it seems he’s doing it for fun. He’s a cheerful guy, almost naïve. He stares at him.

“Ve… Feynriel, are you alright?”

“Fine, I’m fine. I’m just reminiscing.”

“Do you miss Kirkwall, Feynriel?” he asks, a smile gracing on his mouth.

He paused. Did he miss Kirkwall? He had nothing left back there. And if were not by Hawke’s consideration on letting him have the chance to master his abilities as a Dreamer in Teventer, maybe he would have been made Tranquil by the templars there. Too dangerous for the people, they say. Especially with the magic they don’t understand.

But he remembers her mother, who rose him after his father abandoned him, who tried her best for his sake even it made her try to send him to the Circle which he detested because of his dreams. But all of her faults she has done, he can see she really loves him. And then there’s his dream last night. His heart aches at the thought of it.

“…Not really, but I miss my mom. She lives there.”

“Isn’t it near Kirkwall where there’s an elf clan residing to it?”

“Yes… there are elves in Sundermount. I don’t know what happened to them after Hawkes’ opposition on Knight-Commander…”

“Maybe your mother is one of them?”

He stops, and looks at Feliciano, still smiling at him. He frowns in thought.

“My mother had mention being a Dalish… I never knew which clan.”

The man gave a sound of understandment. “I see…”

He stares at the clock from Orlais and gave a shriek that Feynriel swore that even sounds more monstrous than a darkspawn. He whipped his head towards the man and found him flailing his arms. He hear him mutter in Tevene in a voice bordering to panic. Feliciano rushes to the table near the clock, taking a cloth which he guess as a handkerchief.

“Tell Ludwig I went out. And also say it’s important!”

The slam of the door rebounded for a few times, and Feynriel blinks in confusion before he went back to his studies.

-

In his dream, he is back on his father’s house, but he was shocked to see someone other than his father.

His mother, with the familiar blood-writing on her face, turned her face and gleamed at him.

“Feynriel!” she smiles, “Welcome back!”

Without hesitance, he ran to her arms, embracing her.

“Mother, mother… I missed you so much…”

“Son…” she murmurs, smiling. “It’s good to have you back.”

-

“Feynriel?”

She knocks for the 5th time. Strange, she thinks, the child’s not that of a heavy sleeper. And it’s late morning.

“Feynriel?”

No answer.

She huffs and opened the door. She finds him asleep on his bed. She approaches him and sat on the edge of his bed. “Feynriel, my apprentice, it’s time to wake up now.”

Unresponsive.

Brows furrowing in confusion, she nudged him. No response. A thought crossed to her mind, and her heart beats faster.  Couldn’t he be…?

“Maker, Maker,” she pleads to her mind, “Don’t let this child be succumbed by the temptation of the demons…”

She stood up and rushed out from the door. She had promised to make him a strong mage when he was pleading to her and she will not break it because of the demons. There’s no need for her to enter the Fade. He’s a Dreamer, and what could she remember, he had someone to help him, but he’s stronger now. But nevertheless, she will not sit through this.

“Feliciano!” she calls, “Come here this instant!”

-

His mother told him that his father went away for something in Antivia, but he will be back for a week. And together, they see the riches of Hightown. He still remembers the exact words that he read yesterday in his master’s house; Its glitzy mansions rising atop a great wall of rock that borders, on one side, the Waking Sea. And he sees the prominent buildings he never saw when he was in Kirkwall; the Viscount’s Keep, and the Chantry. They marveled at its grandeur.

“I have never seen Hightown when we were with your father before you were born,” she murmurs. “Only on Lowtown.”

He breathes. “I never knew that it’s so grand…”

“Indeed… Elves were not accepted on human society. Even we look down upon humans as shemlen.

“Shemlen?”

“A racial slur for humans, like how humans used knife-ears to us.” She walks onward and noticed the sun is setting. “Let’s go home. The sun is setting”

-

He sleeps on the bed where his father had shown him and when he wakes, he still found himself on the same room. Joy overshadowing his worry, he sat up and rushed outside from his room and found his mother sitting on a couch.

“Son,“ she smiles at him. “Shall we go?”

-

They walk again through the streets of Hightown and he sighs. The place is really nice already. No templars that would knock on their doors to get him to the Circle, and Knight-Commander Meridith is gone. Everything’s fine now…

Wait.

This has happened before, right? The reason why he came here.

He stops on his tracks, eyes widening. This… this place couldn’t be the Fade, right? It’s like it’s really Hightown and feels like it, so it can’t be the Fade. But he can’t be teleported from Tevinter Imperium to here, right? Worry started to build on his nerves. So… if this is the Fade… then what demon is he facing now?

“Feynriel?” the voice of his mother speaks. “What’s wrong?”

He stares at her.

“Son, come to my side…”

“No.”

His mother-no, the demon stops, eyes widening at his refusal. Feynriel looks back, eyes burning with determination. Their form shakes, brows furrowing in sadness.

“Feynriel?” they spoke, “Why?”

He doesn’t speak. Only he steps back. Then he sees it.

Their face which took form of his mother was eaten away by black inky tentacles, spreading slowly, but surely. Even their arms and legs were eaten away.

And then, to encourage him, they smiled, and he sees the sharp teeth.

So he did what he should do already.

He ran.

Grateful his robe is not long enough to trip on them, he ran as fast as he could. Now he wished that he could run like Feliciano when the other servant was angry at him. But now, there’s this demon he need to face. But it’s odd. It didn’t try to get him, instead, they just look at him with their eyes wide.

“Feynriel? Feynriel!”

They scream and he runs, and then like it has to their body, the scene before him is wasting away in the shadows.

“Don’T leaVe mE! DoN’t LEavE mE! fEYNrIel! FeYNRieL!”

His legs is tiring and is almost ready to drop down, but he can’t because he need to get out of here, or else who knows what will the demon do, and the disoriented voice it speaking now, mixed with his mother’s voice and another one, otherworldy, is scaring him. In haste, he makes a portal, similar on what he had done back then and jumps through it. Before the darkness took over him, he hears the same voice crying over and over again for him in despair.

-

“He’s awake! Maker! Maker! Thank the Maker!”

Familiar voices…

“Feliciano, get Evangeline now.”

“Ve, but–“

“Just do it!”

A rush of feet reached to his ears.  A rustle of cloth and then a cool material was pressed on his
forehead.

“Feynriel, can you hear me?”

It’s Ludwig, one of the servants of his master, one who cleans the house since Feliciano took no fun from it than cooking, he recalls. He slowly opens his eyes and indeed, it was Ludwig who was speaking to him.

“Thank the Maker, we thought we have lost you. Evangeline suspected that you were caught by the hands of the demons.”

“…What happened?”

“Coma almost for 1 week, your master almost went to hysterics. Thought you were gone for good.”

He tried to sit up, but he pushed him back to his bed. “No, don’t.”

“Ve, Ludwig! Eva’s here!”

He turned to the door as Feliciano got in to his room. Following him was his master. She looks so tired and forlorn and in his opinion, it doesn’t suit his master who is always confident and composed. Her eyes widen and rushes to him, embracing him.

“Maker, Maker…” she murmured. “Thank you so much, Maker…”

All he can do now is to hug back.

-

“That wasn’t a Desire demon.”

The cup of tea was a millimeters away from her mouth as she stopped to look at him. “Pardon,
Feynriel?”

“That wasn’t a Desire demon,” he said again. “I encountered a sloth, pride and desire demon, but it didn’t act like the one in my dream. They seem… desperate to keep me, but for a different purpose. Companionship, maybe?”

“Feynriel, you know you’re a somniari and its risks of being one. Demons can’t survive the mortal world if without a host, so they will try to possess you because of the abilities you possessed.”

“I know that, but-“

“If you are sure it’s not a desire demon, then what demon is it?”

“That’s the problem, I don’t know.”

Silence fell to the table and Feynriel realized his imprudence. “I-I’m sorry, it’s just-“

“No apologies is needed, Feynriel.” She waved her hand. ”As much I hate it, I do not know all things. So maybe what you claim is indeed true. No one knows all the creatures that lies in the Fade…”

She stands and led him to a library. Every shelves were cramped by books. No space left unfilled.

“Here. This house is actually ancient, and my family is quite known to be knowledgeable. I haven’t read them all yet, but if you are curious, search for that part. It is where the creatures are
sorted."

He nodded. “Thank you, master.”

She smiled and left the room. And Feynriel proceeds to read the books.

-

Dear Hawke,

I have heard that you’ve returned to Kirkwall, so I wanted to message you.

Everything here’s nice. My master’s really kind, even her reputation tells she’s without mercy. Also she’s like an oddball here, since she has no slaves, but servants whom she paid for their works. Really odd for a Tevene mage, right?

I also heard the news that you helped the Inquisitor to defeat the one who is responsible with the Breach. But enough about that.

Last three weeks, I have these consecutive dreams about my family. We were in Hightown, and there were no templars and those people who look down on mages and elves. But then I noticed something weird. It feels nothing like the Fade, and it seems it’s designed for me to stay. And the weirdest part is, when I notice this, the one who is acting as my father or mother has shadows wasting away on their bodies.

Also, like the reason why you come to save me, I went into coma, but I also got out from it without help. My studies really helped me!

I was really curious about the demon so I went to my master’s library and took some research. And my research has been fruitful.

So these types of demons are really rare that they are almost extinct. They have no interest on having a host, so you can say the mortal world doesn't interest them as much, but also the most dangerous. They usually form on reflection as the one you admire the most, but since we don’t have mirrors here, so it didn't happen to me. And if one dreams, the creature will masquerade as that one thing, granting your wishes to prolong the dream because you enjoy their company. Seems good right?

But there’s a catch.

As you sleep longer, the harder it is to wake up, and there will be the time that your mind will really separate from reality, making you sleep forever and your body will rot away. You’ll be trapped on the Veil, never to return.

These demons are called ‘Faucherêve’, or Dream Reapers in simpler sense.