The Dreamer

Dreams are the soul, and the soul is a eternal dream drifting through time and space in search of something none will ever know of. The gods never tried to hide this from there subjects and simply let them find out about it on there own, but what they did hide was how much you can use a dream to interact with the soul.

An experienced dreamer could rend the soul of another with little difficulty which says nothing of just how much a god could do with access to dreams. All of this is semantics though because he knew it would never have the training or ability in magic to do anything with said knowledge.

He was a street rat through and through. Stealing to live, and killing all those who tried to steal from him. The only reason he knew about such things was the book he swiped from a particularly naive mage. He had studied the thing for months afterward in hopes of learning magic, but his luck turned on him when it turned out the book was not on anything like fighting Magic's but instead on the link between soul and dream.

Though he was skeptical on a lot of it. Especially that part about dreams being able to influence the soul after all there was no way it wouldn't be common knowledge by now if it was possible. So he had simply pegged the mage as either stupid or misinformed.

Their was some use he got out of the book though it had a single pretty useless spell called "Deep Dreams" that gave him some of the best sleep he has ever had. Making it very useful for sleeping off the eternal hunger that had come to be a staple of his life. The dreams themselves though would sometimes come out loopy though.

He would see great statues of masked bugs that seemed to radiate power of pale white. Others would show him giant bugs that were leaking a orange substance while they walked around as if zombies. Yet others would show him a great pale god that raised his hands and changed everything around it. Granting gifts and boons to all it came across.

They were weird dreams to at the least, and the act that they would quickly become ever harder to forget was concerning. Sometimes he would be walking and be hit full force with a particularly strong memory of one of the dreams. Which is why after only a wee king of using the spell he gave it up. No amount of peaceful sleep was worth being constantly bombarded with memories every time he tried to go out and do something.

It didn't help though every night even without applying the spell it would take him to the same place. That hollow nest of bugs that stretched on for what seemed like forever. The latest dream though was one unlike all others though.

Things felt more solid so to say. As if he was really in the dream itself. The location was even different from the others, it was a pale white corridor that had only one exit in the form of a door made of light so pale it was blinding in its intensity.

With slow steps he inches towards it on the lookout for any traps or enemy's that might want to harm him. Eventually though he reached the door and ever so cautiously pushed it open to the sight of a throne room of truly monstrous proportions. The ceiling going on until it was out of sight, and the walls being so huge and far away from each other it seemed as if he wasn't in a room at all but a city.

All that paled in comparison to the throne itself though. A thing or pale ore thirty foot high and with a back board of great pale spikes that complemented the GOD that sat upon it. The sheer pale light that emendated from the god enough to blind him and send him to his knees.

"It is good that you recognize me with kneeling my child, but it is not necessary for one such as myself." The god spoke in almost a whisper but that did nothing to stop the sheer power of its voice from leaking threw.

"W-who are y-you? He asked voice trembling and his eyes still turned away from the blinding light that was the god in front of him.

"That is simple my child, I am the Pale Wyrm who has taken upon himself the mantle of king." That answered one of his questions but created many more.

"I-I see my l-lord, but I have to a-ask why h-have you deigned to s-speak with me?" He tried to keep the terror and shock out of his voice but he had the sneaking suspicion he had failed spectacularly. Even still the god spoke without acknowledging his obvious fear.

"That's a simple matter my child, you will be my first apostle on your world. While a great and difficult task I'm sure you will be up for the challenge." The gods words almost didn't register at first but eventually he got his mind around the words that had been spoken.

"M-my lord I t-think you might b-be mistaken. No slight meant! B-but I'm j-just a street rat I-I couldn't be your representative." Gods he wanted to hit himself for his constant stutter throughout the conversation. He was making himself look like a fool.

"Worry not about that my child I have for seen that you will do great things in my name. Now then I must bestow my blessing upon you so that you can defend your self from those that will come for you." As the god finished talking he suddenly felt a great weight upon his head.

His head was then yanked to face the great light almost definitely blinding him for the rest of his life as single clawed digit touched his forehead. Pain like no other he had ever felt rushed through his body like a dagger.

With it though came clarity and Sight That penetrated through the blinding light that swathed the god before now. The visage in front of him though was no less awe-inspiring. Standing three times his height and with a mask of pale white that jutted from atop his head as if a crown.

After the sight came the power and understanding of Soul the life force of all things. Spells of soul quickly followed after nothing more powerful than what a apprentice mage could output but if used in the right ways could all be powerful in their own right.

Finally he felt the digit leave his forehead and the power that had flowed into him subside. The god in front of him had disappeared as well. Along with the god left the throne room leaving him floating in a great black void that slowly rocked him to sleep.

"AHHHHH!" Waking with a shout he found himself inside his room in one of the abandoned buildings of axel. The memory's of the dream he had experienced flooding him like a wave. The spells, knowledge, and sight bestowed upon his form all still there ready and eager to be used.

He was no longer just a street rat, he finally had real power and he could really make a difference in his life. The tears that came with this knowledge came freely as the boy from the slums looked upon his hands and fate not with hate, but hope. All the while a great pale king looked upon this world with renewed hope for his kingdom eternal.