Through the Veil, Pt. 1
18th Cylus 720 in the heartland of Yrmellyn’s dreamscape
Yrmellyn was in Volta and she was ill after the long journey she had undertaken in the cold of Cylus. Lucid dreams kept her busy while she slept in her bed in a cheap inn. Her partner Ha'zel took good care of her. But, repeated experiences in Emea exhausted her. They made her fever worse and her recovery slow. She had been trying to figure out how to pass through The Veil but got stuck in complications. She had also made a dim and ugly source instead of a beautiful spring by using governing ... but who cared, it was art! At that point, her little companion in Emea had kicked her out in rage ...
GONG!
Yrmellyn woke up in a lucid dream again. As usual, the dream started in The Meadow of Spirituality, in the heartland of her dreamscape. Her drumming Emean companion had a new instrument, a gong. It was a tiny miniature in Bizettes small hands but the sound was like thunder.
“Stop it!” whispered Yrmellyn, holding her hands over her ears. “What is this new ...”
“My new gong. I came into existence after you made that half-assed dim source installation. A bad governing job if I ever saw one. And then my drum turned into this gong! Consequence! Deal with it!”
“I’ll improve that source. I’m not able to do it yet, but it will come. I promise.” She hoped that would placate the loud little musician. Yrmellyn didn’t want to govern right now.
“When?” her Emean companion wanted to know.
“As soon as I can ...”
One of those trials. The Dim Source of Dreams isn’t bad art. Only if people are demanding concrete realism...in a dreamscape of all places. I will stall for time! I will take an as long time as I can without getting my ears gong-ed off by that cursed little ...but I will keep my promise. Eventually.
“Don't think you can deceive me! You are only trying to stall for time! ” Bizette put the gong away but she glared at Yrmellyn.
“Well ... but ... I don’t have time right now because I have to have a new look at The Veil.”
“You aren' t fooling me! You are also not being consistent. First, you find The Veil. But, you complicate it. Then, you walk into it but you don’t walk out on the other side. You go back. Instead of continuing to work at passing through The Veil, you delve into governing. You make an ugly failure of a source and mar the dreamscape with it. Now, you don’t have time to repair the damage because you are heading back to The Veil. I fear what your next half-done job will be!”
“It’s not a job. I’m exploring the possibilities and creating art as I go.”
Yrmellyn wasn’t going to give in to persuasion. Insinuations that she was whimsical and fickle wouldn't sway her. “Others don’t understand me,” she said. “I’m a misunderstood genius, as most artists are. Besides, the dream is mine and so, I’m the one who decides what to do with it.”
“I have warned you!” The annoyed Bizette disappeared through a sudden rift in the air and so, Yrmellyn was on her own. It was a good thing. She wanted to explore The Veil and experiment with walking and governing. Alone! Yrmellyn didn’t want a conflict with her Emean companion. But, she didn’t want by an Emean insect to lord it over her either. Her freedom as an artist was important. Her priorities, at the moment, was to give The Veil a new examination. For now, she would leave The Dim Source of Dreams unchanged.
The heartland of her dreamscape wasn’t small. It was a whole wide landscape and as far as she could see it didn’t seem to end the horizon. A long walk on foot followed. Yrmellyn walked over green fields and trough beautiful groves. Later, she arrived at The Seventh Impediment, the place where she had found a gateway in The Veil.
Good thing I numbered the impediments. That way I can count my way to the right place now. One ... two...three...four...five...six...seven! This ought to be it!
She walked up to the gateway. It looked like it had looked the first time. Nothing new there! The Veil, as it appeared to Yrmellyn, looked like stained glass. The texture was uneven but it felt smooth as metal when she ran her hand over it. But, unlike metal, stone or glass it was somewhat elastic and leathery. It seemed organic and alive. The nuances of gold and brown, green and blue echoed the colours of the surroundings.
The discrete dots of other colours were almost invisible. The gateway itself looked like a huge patch of gold leaf. It was irregular, almost circular and of a size “bigger than a human”. At the edges it was transparent. She could still see the texture shining through, but in the middle, the gate’s colour was pure gold. It shone like a lantern against the darker background. She knew from her last lucid dream that the golden field was the “lock” at one end of a tunnel, her own cursed kind of gateway through The Veil.
Yrmellyn was now going to attempt to use her newfound ability governing to open the nasty golden resin lock. It looked so beautiful, this golden field, but last time it had tried to trap her like a dragonfly in amber. Now, she would try to make it softer. It might let her pass through a bit easier. Somehow. But, she would be cautious. Her experience from the governing experiment with The Dim Source of Dreams had taught her a lesson. The result of governing was a bit like the result of painting. Her vision would guide her but the final outcome could be a bit unpredictable. Yrmellyn could surprise herself, sometimes.
She figured that she would need a good understanding of the target of the governing. Thus, she watched the golden field for a long time, memorizing it in detail as well as she could. Then she closed her eyes and imagined a picture of the field in her inner vision. She added memories of her latest experiment with it. The soft and sort of liquid yet cold and metallic texture on its surface. The easiness of entering. The sudden thickening of the golden substance once she was inside it. The feeling of moving through syrup, or worse, coalescing resin going harder by the trill. The memory of how the substance had softened again when she had taken a decision to get out of it at all cost.
That decision, that wish, had seemed to have an impact ...
Still keeping her eyes shut she imagined that the golden substance flowed a bit thinner. She wished it would let her pass with less effort than the last time. It was still there though. She didn’t expect herself to be able to remove the lock (and it might also be very dumb to do so). She was only trying to affect the consistency of the golden substance. She focused one single property. Yrmellyn hoped that being this specific would be useful for her purpose.
When she opened her eyes again she saw that the golden field hadn’t changed appearance. But, she hadn’t tried to change the appearance, so that was as it should be. Now to the testing ... she found that the field felt warmer to the touch now. The temperature had changed. This was something she hadn’t imagined. It was an interesting phenomenon, but outside of her scope. It was still a sign that she had managed to govern something though. Putting her hand into the field she felt it pass through without effort. But, as it had been so the last time too it didn’t tell her anything. She would have to walk in again and hope for good luck.
Bracing herself, she went into the golden field and let it enclose her. The consistency of the golden substance had changed. It was still golden, but now it felt tepid, fat and slippery. When she tried to walk she lost her foothold and fell forward out from the field and into the tunnel behind it. She slid forth over the floor a bit. Her clothes and hair were soaked in something that seemed like ... half-melted butter.
Thinking of it, wasn’t it rude to swing by another person’s dreamscape uninvited? Wasn't that like being a party crasher stepping into people’s homes without an invitation? Would people be angry? Would they see her as a burglar? Would they call the guards? Was there a risk for getting imprisoned for intrusion over there on the other side?
Her Emean companion hadn’t told her anything about this aspect. Not until now, when she felt closer to a breakthrough, did Yrmellyn realize that she didn’t know a thing about what she would expose herself to. For, example, whose dreamscape would it be? Would they be in? Would they be lucid or not? If they were lucid, would they then like to get an unexpected guest or would they get angry? Would they be of a friendly race or some kind of monster waiting for dinner to arrive?
Did monsters dream of lucid visitors walking into their maws? That question demanded an answer! And, she wanted to know it in advance. It wasn’t a good question to answer by trial and error. She would have to ask Bizette.
Yrmellyn decided to once again return to her own dreamscape without investigating the dreamscape on the other side of The Veil. It turned out to be hard to go back though. The golden substance’s new consistency made for a very slippery ground and there was nothing to hold on to. Fumbling forth she fell more than one time. It took a long time before she finally came out on The Seventh Impediment and could count her bruises.
Walking back to the place where she used to begin her lucid dreams she thought of the outcome. Governing wasn’t an easy way to make everything be as you wanted it to be, at least not to her and at least not yet. The surreal complexity of the Emean reality made it hard to governing one single factor at the time. Her whole approach might have been wrong...she would have to think this trough.
The small dragonfly, her companion in Emea waited for her. Yrmellyn had never heard a dragonfly laugh before. It was a most disturbing little sound, worse than the bang of the gong that followed it - and sent her flying home.
It was night in Volta. Yrmellyn’s nightgown was soaked in Emean butter and so was the bedding. Yrmellyn was ill but she was so not going to let Ha'zel see her like this. Feverish and shivering she stumbled up from the bed. She washed and tried to get clean discovering a lot of bruises in the process. Then she stumbled back.
After sleeping for the rest of the night she would wake up to a bad hair trial. Lucid dreams could do that to real life.
Yrmellyn woke up in a lucid dream again. As usual, the dream started in The Meadow of Spirituality, in the heartland of her dreamscape. Her drumming Emean companion had a new instrument, a gong. It was a tiny miniature in Bizettes small hands but the sound was like thunder.
“Stop it!” whispered Yrmellyn, holding her hands over her ears. “What is this new ...”
“My new gong. I came into existence after you made that half-assed dim source installation. A bad governing job if I ever saw one. And then my drum turned into this gong! Consequence! Deal with it!”
“I’ll improve that source. I’m not able to do it yet, but it will come. I promise.” She hoped that would placate the loud little musician. Yrmellyn didn’t want to govern right now.
“When?” her Emean companion wanted to know.
“As soon as I can ...”
One of those trials. The Dim Source of Dreams isn’t bad art. Only if people are demanding concrete realism...in a dreamscape of all places. I will stall for time! I will take an as long time as I can without getting my ears gong-ed off by that cursed little ...but I will keep my promise. Eventually.
“Don't think you can deceive me! You are only trying to stall for time! ” Bizette put the gong away but she glared at Yrmellyn.
“Well ... but ... I don’t have time right now because I have to have a new look at The Veil.”
“You aren' t fooling me! You are also not being consistent. First, you find The Veil. But, you complicate it. Then, you walk into it but you don’t walk out on the other side. You go back. Instead of continuing to work at passing through The Veil, you delve into governing. You make an ugly failure of a source and mar the dreamscape with it. Now, you don’t have time to repair the damage because you are heading back to The Veil. I fear what your next half-done job will be!”
“It’s not a job. I’m exploring the possibilities and creating art as I go.”
Yrmellyn wasn’t going to give in to persuasion. Insinuations that she was whimsical and fickle wouldn't sway her. “Others don’t understand me,” she said. “I’m a misunderstood genius, as most artists are. Besides, the dream is mine and so, I’m the one who decides what to do with it.”
“I have warned you!” The annoyed Bizette disappeared through a sudden rift in the air and so, Yrmellyn was on her own. It was a good thing. She wanted to explore The Veil and experiment with walking and governing. Alone! Yrmellyn didn’t want a conflict with her Emean companion. But, she didn’t want by an Emean insect to lord it over her either. Her freedom as an artist was important. Her priorities, at the moment, was to give The Veil a new examination. For now, she would leave The Dim Source of Dreams unchanged.
The heartland of her dreamscape wasn’t small. It was a whole wide landscape and as far as she could see it didn’t seem to end the horizon. A long walk on foot followed. Yrmellyn walked over green fields and trough beautiful groves. Later, she arrived at The Seventh Impediment, the place where she had found a gateway in The Veil.
Good thing I numbered the impediments. That way I can count my way to the right place now. One ... two...three...four...five...six...seven! This ought to be it!
She walked up to the gateway. It looked like it had looked the first time. Nothing new there! The Veil, as it appeared to Yrmellyn, looked like stained glass. The texture was uneven but it felt smooth as metal when she ran her hand over it. But, unlike metal, stone or glass it was somewhat elastic and leathery. It seemed organic and alive. The nuances of gold and brown, green and blue echoed the colours of the surroundings.
The discrete dots of other colours were almost invisible. The gateway itself looked like a huge patch of gold leaf. It was irregular, almost circular and of a size “bigger than a human”. At the edges it was transparent. She could still see the texture shining through, but in the middle, the gate’s colour was pure gold. It shone like a lantern against the darker background. She knew from her last lucid dream that the golden field was the “lock” at one end of a tunnel, her own cursed kind of gateway through The Veil.
Yrmellyn was now going to attempt to use her newfound ability governing to open the nasty golden resin lock. It looked so beautiful, this golden field, but last time it had tried to trap her like a dragonfly in amber. Now, she would try to make it softer. It might let her pass through a bit easier. Somehow. But, she would be cautious. Her experience from the governing experiment with The Dim Source of Dreams had taught her a lesson. The result of governing was a bit like the result of painting. Her vision would guide her but the final outcome could be a bit unpredictable. Yrmellyn could surprise herself, sometimes.
She figured that she would need a good understanding of the target of the governing. Thus, she watched the golden field for a long time, memorizing it in detail as well as she could. Then she closed her eyes and imagined a picture of the field in her inner vision. She added memories of her latest experiment with it. The soft and sort of liquid yet cold and metallic texture on its surface. The easiness of entering. The sudden thickening of the golden substance once she was inside it. The feeling of moving through syrup, or worse, coalescing resin going harder by the trill. The memory of how the substance had softened again when she had taken a decision to get out of it at all cost.
That decision, that wish, had seemed to have an impact ...
Still keeping her eyes shut she imagined that the golden substance flowed a bit thinner. She wished it would let her pass with less effort than the last time. It was still there though. She didn’t expect herself to be able to remove the lock (and it might also be very dumb to do so). She was only trying to affect the consistency of the golden substance. She focused one single property. Yrmellyn hoped that being this specific would be useful for her purpose.
When she opened her eyes again she saw that the golden field hadn’t changed appearance. But, she hadn’t tried to change the appearance, so that was as it should be. Now to the testing ... she found that the field felt warmer to the touch now. The temperature had changed. This was something she hadn’t imagined. It was an interesting phenomenon, but outside of her scope. It was still a sign that she had managed to govern something though. Putting her hand into the field she felt it pass through without effort. But, as it had been so the last time too it didn’t tell her anything. She would have to walk in again and hope for good luck.
Bracing herself, she went into the golden field and let it enclose her. The consistency of the golden substance had changed. It was still golden, but now it felt tepid, fat and slippery. When she tried to walk she lost her foothold and fell forward out from the field and into the tunnel behind it. She slid forth over the floor a bit. Her clothes and hair were soaked in something that seemed like ... half-melted butter.
Thinking of it, wasn’t it rude to swing by another person’s dreamscape uninvited? Wasn't that like being a party crasher stepping into people’s homes without an invitation? Would people be angry? Would they see her as a burglar? Would they call the guards? Was there a risk for getting imprisoned for intrusion over there on the other side?
Her Emean companion hadn’t told her anything about this aspect. Not until now, when she felt closer to a breakthrough, did Yrmellyn realize that she didn’t know a thing about what she would expose herself to. For, example, whose dreamscape would it be? Would they be in? Would they be lucid or not? If they were lucid, would they then like to get an unexpected guest or would they get angry? Would they be of a friendly race or some kind of monster waiting for dinner to arrive?
Did monsters dream of lucid visitors walking into their maws? That question demanded an answer! And, she wanted to know it in advance. It wasn’t a good question to answer by trial and error. She would have to ask Bizette.
Yrmellyn decided to once again return to her own dreamscape without investigating the dreamscape on the other side of The Veil. It turned out to be hard to go back though. The golden substance’s new consistency made for a very slippery ground and there was nothing to hold on to. Fumbling forth she fell more than one time. It took a long time before she finally came out on The Seventh Impediment and could count her bruises.
Walking back to the place where she used to begin her lucid dreams she thought of the outcome. Governing wasn’t an easy way to make everything be as you wanted it to be, at least not to her and at least not yet. The surreal complexity of the Emean reality made it hard to governing one single factor at the time. Her whole approach might have been wrong...she would have to think this trough.
The small dragonfly, her companion in Emea waited for her. Yrmellyn had never heard a dragonfly laugh before. It was a most disturbing little sound, worse than the bang of the gong that followed it - and sent her flying home.
It was night in Volta. Yrmellyn’s nightgown was soaked in Emean butter and so was the bedding. Yrmellyn was ill but she was so not going to let Ha'zel see her like this. Feverish and shivering she stumbled up from the bed. She washed and tried to get clean discovering a lot of bruises in the process. Then she stumbled back.
After sleeping for the rest of the night she would wake up to a bad hair trial. Lucid dreams could do that to real life.
