((OOC: A new personal creation betwixt Eol and I~ See the Q&A for details, and for your questions and comments!))

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By the time the first fury of the tempest had spent itself, or perhaps we did not feel it so much, as we scudded before it, but at all events the seas, which at first had been kept down by the wind, and lay flat and frothing, now got up into absolute mountains. A singular change, too, had come over the heavens. Around in every direction it was still as black as pitch, but nearly overhead there burst out, all at once, a circular rift of clear sky - as clear as I ever saw - and of a deep bright blue - and through it there blazed forth the full moon with a lustre that I never before knew her to wear. She lit up everything about us with the greatest distinctness - but O God, what a scene it was to light up! -Edgar Allan Poe, "A Descent into the Maelström"

“I told you no!”

“And I am telling you yes!”

“There’s no reason for it!”

“There is every reason for it! They have to know!”

Darkness reigned in the depths of the ocean. Night feeders had come out of hiding while day dwellers either secreted away or swam lazily in their slumber. That is, all but two Ayalualie who had taken shelter in a small natural cavern a ways away from their nothrim. The pitch that the argument was reaching would soon rouse the others. Inside the cavern the water was growing steadily warm with the heat of the quarrel.

Talitha had to force herself to grit her teeth. Her mind screamed out at her atara, and she clamped down on her tongue for fear of waking the rest. A small trickle of blood escaped the side of her mouth, and in a distant corner of her mind it registered that her scent was now on the current. It made a brief appearance before being replaced with foreign images of hate and despair.

“You have no idea,” she hissed savagely at Liana.

“No, you have no idea,” Liana shot back, “they will catch you and use you for fish bait! There is no end to their hatred!

“There must be! They have to listen!”

“Listen to what, Talitha? Besides, they have forgotten how to listen, tinu en amin,” Liana said in a gentler voice. Her eyes filled with remorse, and perhaps something close to pity. “Van’Talath possesses, and creates war in attempt to possess more. They have no thought of the future; they only care for what is happening now.”

Emotion afflicted the young Ayalualie’s face, “But what of the -- “

“Speak of not of that! You know it’s forbidden!” Liana’s face grew red with rage, “You spoke to me once before, and that was enough! It is not possible!” she drew breath, and as she did Talitha worked to control her rage quakes, “Cast it from your mind, Tal. These things are not worth you getting worked up over. Those whose minds dwell on land are as muddled and foggy as their weather.”

The argument was over, and she knew it. All spats with her ended with some proverb before Liana turned her back on her. Her mother gave yet one more look of sympathy before leaving the small cavern. Fine sand was kicked up as Liana jettisoned over towards the sleeping ho’leitha, and Talitha watched it settle with a scowl.

Heat was on her face, and her dark green hair whipped about like it was in a violent current. It felt like a hot water geyser, but with a completely foreign quality: lack of water. Colors seemed to be pressing down upon her. They were stunning, vivid, and exotic. Noise of metal on metal clashed about her, and the sharpness of the sound made her ears hurt. From somewhere in the distance, a loud, musical note began to thrum. There was no mistaking what it meant; it was a call. The sound shook the ground; she could feel it throbbing in her heart. As suddenly as a shift in the tide, the raging torrent stopped. Something dark spread out above her, blotting out the great light orb in the sky…

Anguish and frustration pounded through her body; through her very soul. She reached into the woven gwaimon bag set on the surface of the cavern, and extracted a dull golden shell. The cybrina glistened in her hand, and she stared intently at it before throwing it towards the wall. The momentum of the light object only took it about five feet from her in the dark water. The water churned and undulated as she kept picking it up and throwing it in different directions.

“Stupid…!” idiots! Not seeing what’s in front of their faces! She threw it.

How can you be so “…blind!” Another throw.

“How dare you…!?” leave me with no other choice! Tal hurled it with more violence.

“So caught up with tradition!” Her mind immediately thought back to her mother. Her mother, whom she confided in. Her mother, whom she had told about the visions. Her mother, who scoffed at the whole ordeal, who shrugged it off like a passing nightmare. Visions used to be normal for the Ayalualie! Was it so unusual that they would reappear in times of need?

“Amin delotha lle!” she cried to the wall. The sound reverberated dully back. Those were her words; did they sound so feeble to everyone else? Talitha flung the shell towards the gwaimon bag, and drifted slowly to the floor. Her dark eyes showed nothing of sadness or guilt, but determination. It would happen, and it would happen soon. Something had to be done. Her slender, webbed hand reached out and picked up the shell. She stared intently at it, locking this moment within its ridges.

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A fiery wind blasted across his face. The force behind it made him want to shut his eyes, but he couldn’t look away from the scene that was laid out before him. Battle raged all down the hillside. The clanking of armor and the ring of steel on steel resounded through the air. The smell of blood and sweat was heavy on the wind, nearly choking him. In the distance, a gong sounded. Its continual thrums made him want to respond; to run to the source, but he couldn’t move his feet. The resonance made the ground shake, and he could feel it throughout his body. The field quieted and a sudden darkness filled the sky, blotting out the sun.

Dylan Haynes woke with a start. The sound of the gong still filled his ears.

That damned dream again.
He kicked out of his tangled bed covers and sat up. Moonlight crept into the small room, casting an eerie glow upon the floor. How many more sleepless nights was he to endure? He ran his fingers through his prematurely thinning hair, and decided to get up.

Though these dreams had been coming to him since he was a young child, in the last few years they had increased in number and intensity. When he had confided in his parents, they had attempted to dissuade him; telling him they were nothing more than nightmares and assuring him that he would grow out of it.

But he hadn’t.

As the terrors continued on, becoming bloodier with the years, they took measures to keep him sedated during most of his nights. It was only in his later teens that he found out that Mom and Dad had been drugging his evening meals. Thinking back on it now still made him sick to his stomach.

But was it better then waking up night after night in fits?
No, he thought irritably as he wandered down the hall towards the kitchen. No parent should ever drug their child like that. Not without telling him that it might help.
There was no need to light a candle; the full moonlight filtering through the windows was as sufficient as several would have been. The shudders had been thrown back to admit the cool summer night air. He set himself to work on slicing a piece of bread and some cheese, and once again forgetting the horrors he had dreamed of that night.