Dream Worlds Are Born

Dejen & Konstantin


Konstantin checked the map he had acquired upon coming to this land, wanting to make sure he was still going in the right direction. He had come here looking for new stones, stones he had never seen before. A merchant passing through Protea during one of the festivals he attended with his family had marveled at his work and had traded information for a necklace. Now he was here, far across the sea and from home. He couldn’t wait to return and show his parents and siblings. The merchant had told him the story of a tower deep in the jungles of this place, had said it was rumored to be cursed, but there was supposedly a cavern beneath it full of the most beautiful stones. He was determined to find it.

Dejen stared out at the world from the top of the tower, at the beautiful jungle, at its promise of freedom and once again felt the pain of never again setting foot there. He was a prisoner here. He reached up and touched the collar around his neck, feeling the magic there that kept him just out of reach of the wilds. There was a barrier there and he had only tried crossing it once, but the collar had put him in such agonizing pain, that he had nearly died. It had been centuries of punishment and he knew it would be many more.


So many mortals envied immortals like him but this was one of those situations it was more of a curse. A mortal would die and be freed of such torture eventually, he however, was truly stuck here for eternity, left to suffer even though he hadn’t actually done anything wrong. Time had long since been something he had lost track of and he wondered at times precisely how long he had been suffering like this. He knew boredom and depression could play tricks on the mind as far as time so even though he could clearly see the days coming and going he knew he couldn’t be sure. For all he knew the cohorts of the corrupt, cruel official he killed could be long gone and could have possibly long since even forgot they were doing this to him.

That or they joked about it, still getting joy over his wrongful misery. He closed his eyes and decided to find some peace again. He pictured himself as the beast within him. He reached into a memory of running through lush green grass on a warm, perfect day. His paws repeatedly hitting the ground as the wind rushed across his face. He would give anything to be able to run like that again.

A new scent pulled him out of that memory and he could tell his cat within didn’t like being back in reality. “a demon” he whispered to himself. He liked to say things out loud sometimes, just to prove to himself he could still talk. Besides, if someone did care to ever help him he had always wanted his voice to still be clear, not rough from lack of use. He wasn’t the first being to pass him by, non ever wanted to help but he tried as he always did. He had to try or truly have to live this misery until the end of time.