//------------------------------// // Only from Nightmares are Dreams Born // Story: Dawn of Midnight // by TheApostate //------------------------------// ‘In plains ethereal are the waking desires of mortals turned into monstrous things.’ -Excerpt from the Chronicles of Endless Stars, by Endless Stars. A tear crossed the sky. A small glimmer of white pinpricking the sky with its glow. It was raining on Mount Arat that day, but in the distance, where the sea extended, it was a clear day. The light continued its descent. **** Nightflowers danced in the slow breeze of Mount Arat. It was raining now. A slow downpour, characteristic of the late winter and early spring in this part of the world. He was sitting under the protection of a protruding rock, observing the wind carrying the thin droplets with grace and the distant ocean’s marvelous waves crashing on the cliffs and reefs far below. He thought able to hear them, but it was just the wind suddenly and violently raging upon Mount Arat. The Hippogriff named Hannon crawled deeper into his rock. A minute later, he peered his head out of his hiding spot. The wind raged once more, and Hannon crawled again under the rock. But only then, the Sun was able to show its rays and calm the storm. Hannon cheered to no one except himself. I am you. No. Rain and wind abated enough for him to make out the shape of an elongated structure from the dissipating brume. Without a second thought, Hannon headed to the Lighthouse. Hannon opened the intricately made wooden door, pushing it with enough force to break the rust. It was warm inside, but he did not savor it for long. He moved past the altar to the sky god An and sea goddess Tiamat, running toward the spiral stairs of the pharos. Hannon singled the top. On Mount Arat, light had fallen. A solid nugget of pure light fell from the heavens upon the barren scape of Arat, but was buried by the impact of its fall. In those times lost to mortal ken, the Light stayed hidden. In those times, his people began to be divided between terrestrials and aquatics. In due course, when the first writings came to be and when history started being recorded, their conflicts started to be written. But, eventually, the species found piece. Under the rule of a house whose name was stricken from History, land, and sea had been nominally united. However, that rule would not last. A dispute between brothers over the rule of the unified throne of their kind would erupt into a great internecine conflict. For years, civil war would rage. Terrestrials fought terrestrials and aquatics, and aquatics fought aquatics and terrestrials. Its original intent to be, in turn, forgotten. As his people got poorer and more miserable by years of endless, meaningless war, added by the ever-lustful eyes of their neighbors for the riches of the once proud kingdom. For many, it was simply the conclusion of the chapter that had seen them be. It could have been their fate, if not, on the slopes of Mount Aris, a child had been born. But his parents, once high members of the ancient nobility and now too poor to raise him alongside his older, stronger siblings, sold him to a slave merchant. The boy, Hammon, was sold again to a mercenary group and trained from a young age to wield weapons. On his eleventh birthday, Hammon had made his first kill in a duel against a sixteen-year-old chief of the northern coast. For the mercenary group he was in, a first kill warranted celebration. And so, while drunk, Hammon escaped his slavery. For four years, he roamed the land alone, living off whatever his martial prowess could bestow him with. On his fifteenth birthday, the aging Queen of Taloncanter would find him stubbornly grasping to life, on the verge of being claimed by the disease. Having heard of a great warrior helping innocents in exchange for humble payments of food and water, she adopted him and vowed to care for him as a true parent would. Childless, she foresaw greatness in her new son. Ascending to kinghood, Hammon would lead his people from victory to victory, from conquest to conquest. On his way, he made peace and declarations of friendship, bringing unity to a land in need. The land was conquered wholly, and the sea was in the process of accepting unity, only one obstacle remained: the Abyss. The Abyssal Campaign would come to be costly, as the underwater leaders used magic to amplify the waves and crush any that came against their hold onto the traitorous reefs of Mount Arat. Windspeakers foresaw Hammon’s reign coming to an end. Unwilling to let fate come true, flew up to Mount Arat. And there, as he was pondering his next plan as if calling for him, he took the nugget of purest light. Resting it on a quickly built dolman, its purity calmed the raging ocean. Then, Hammon grabbed his sword and descended into the calm water, slaying the leaders and cursed mages. We were there. No. Unity was achieved; the Hippogriffs entered a golden age. And for the Hippogriffs to come, a lesson of defiance against fate was installed and never forgotten. In lore forgotten and unremembered, I am you. No. Hannon used to repeat this story to his crew aboard the ship “Eshmon”. But the simple recollection of that time brought him to despair. The king had chosen him to commit a thorough exploration of the coast south of the main island. A nearly savaged land, unified by the force of tradition and hatred of the monsters that swirled the mountains and coast. For him, for Hannon, a veteran of exploration of the western islands, far into the ocean, exploring a land close to home would have been more than a childish endeavor. He and his crew had survived starvation and traitorous tides. He and his crew had discovered hitherto uncharted island chains. He and his crew survived where others had died. The Aquatics helped their brothers sail the waves and predict the best course to take, while the Terrestrials, more dexterous with their claws, made due on their recommendations. But both had been sent to explore ahead, to know of safe harbor and assess the dangers of new land. Hannon had commanded many ships on both expeditions, and he was happy with that time to spend between friends and comrades. Hannon reached a closed hash. Eager to see the Light, he punched the lock. Because you are not me. I am you. We share the same soul. I am candid. He opened his eyes. Hannon smiled. Hegna – a Zebra they had recruited alongside her coven of healing witches – was tending a wound, using her limited magic and prodigious alchemy to hasten the healing process. For the three months, she and her sisters had been on the expedition, none of his crew had felt weak or had lacked focus. Seereen, his sister and windspeaker, had been right in her hunch. They were good indeed. New Horizon and Red Spark were discussing with Seereen the best potential routes to counter a storm she sensed coming and then further confirmed by New Horizon’s study of the churning water. Draft was arguing about his rights to eat an additional biscuit, and Mago was making his review of the fleet’s battle readiness, checking on the harpoons, swords, nests, and other weird magical items he and that Equestrian Unicorn they had found lost on one of the Eastern Islands knew of. Her name was Aventurine; she was assigned to repairs too. The bastard daughter of a prominent merchant and minor noble, she was prompted by her parents to venture out and voyage to the world beyond. Seereen and Hannon hesitated to speak of Aventurine’s past with her. Khayan was in the middle, cleaning the puke of rum-drunk sailors. He spoke little to none, but everyone liked him. He was the foremost expert in cleanliness and insisted on being on Hannon’s ship and no other. The reason? Khayan told no one except for Hannon, and the captain was not one to betray the trust of his crew. ‘Will I be fine?’ he asked Hegna. ‘Maybe,’ she smirked. ‘In our next stop, you will need to let me gather ingredients… Unless dying is in your direct future plans, then don’t feel obliged.’ Hannon laughed. Seereen entered then. ‘You laughing means I have yet to support you for another day, High Lord,’ she grinned. She knew how much being called by that title irritated him, and it pleased her beyond measure when he would frown at its mention. A title was given to him by the king after the insistence of the queen. Though his monarch had expressed his intent to bestow Hannon with it for his deeds, but the captain had refused at first. But the queen wanted Hannon’s favor. ‘The captain needs more rest,’ said Hegna. ‘The High Lo-’ Khayan peering his head shushed Seereen’s teasing. Khayan was a kind-hearted fella, a bit too much for this world. He might not speak much but his hearing was perfect, and the mention of the captain’s death made him anxious. ‘Hegna was being sarcastic,’ Hannon told him. ‘And Seereen… well… I told you how my sister is.’ Khayan smiled and returned to his work, but not before turning one last time to Hannon. ‘Nothing dirty in my cabin, for now. And don’t overwork yourself on the deck. Rest your body. And feed the cat too.’ Khayan nodded and went to take his tools downstairs. ‘Sunburns are never pleasant to treat,’ said Hegna. ‘The smells emitted by…Ughh…’ she shuttered at the thought of the medication touching the burnt parts. The mélange of sweat and olive oil made pure puke, no matter the years of experience she had with it. ‘Maybe for us it’s different?’ proposed Seereen, going to take her brother’s temperature with her claw. ‘You seem better,’ she whispered to him. He tapped her on the back twice. ‘I sure hope so… Maybe I’ll have to smell fish sweat too… Ughh!’ ‘It’s a noble scent!’ declared New Horizon, crying it from the bridge above. ‘Oh, yeah?’ cried Hannon. ‘Red! Stop being shy and tell the truth!’ ‘My father taught me to never lie. Though he never taught me to hide the truth!’ ‘You moron king!’ laughed New Horizon. ‘Mago!’ Mago ignored him. ‘Twinky fingy!’ followed Red Spark. They saw him grimace and gestured for them to go away with their idiocy. The rest of the crew laughed at this silent yet O-so-typical answer. Hannon made a nod forward of the head to Hegna, and she left the siblings alone. ‘You don’t have to treat me like I am a child,’ he murmured to Seereen, indicating how their talk must continue as. ‘I am just worried for my little brother. I don’t want to finish this trip alone.’ I have not the pretense for such things. I am you. I grow bored of these talks. It pushed Eshmon more than any other. They had all strapped themselves and defied the sea to take them. The Adremon and Zeb capsized, taking with them every passenger on board. The Sanguine, Dance of Flowers, and Song of Dawn fared the best. But Eshmon was dying. Its hall remained barely held together by Aventurine’s magic. The new recruits, those that had yet to experience a true sea storm, tried to fly away to the better ships, to then be taken by the wind and never seen again. Some landed on the sturdiest ships, but with all their bones and wings breaking at the impact. ‘Inside!’ Hannon shouted for Seereen and Khayan, the rest busy stabilizing the ship and mitigating damage. Then, as if the sea had risen in an instant, a giant wave came tumbling on the Eshmon. The last thing Hannon remembered was his sister crying his name and Khayan – O loyal and precious Khayan, so much had he wanted to explore the world with him – protected both siblings with immense, leathery wings. Then all was black. Hannon could not breathe. Only from nightmares are dreams born. That is the talk of the mad. Of the deranged. Those words are yours as much as they are mine. I am no monster. Actions speak louder than words. Our words. Luna did not reply. The boat crashed. Hannon groveled out of the wreckage, a piece of the deck piercing his right back leg. He stopped to catch his breath. He raised his head to the horizon, remembering his mother’s advice to calm himself. Then, he felt water caress his hooves, slowly enveloping his legs and irritating the wound. Hannon began to scream. A figure he recognized as Seereen grabbed him by the shoulders, pushing him away from the shore. It had not happened before. Seereen died with the ship, and she and Khayan tangled in their escape. But the captain did not care, he smiled, that weary smile transforming into one of true comfort. He looked back at the ocean and laughed, thanking Seereen for her help. They rested on the beach, enjoying the calm waves and warm breath of the sea. Hannon told his older sister stories of their childhood and glorified tales she had been part of them herself. All of them. Hannon laughed again. Seereen told him it was over. He was no longer afraid. Hannon agreed and hugged his sister. A giant wave came down upon them. Hannon swam up and peered his head up off the water in search of Seereen with frightened eyes. He laughed again, but he did not know why. Then Hannon saw Seereen as he remembered her being, a memory that burned him, neck loose and eyes staring into emptiness. And, as in reality, he wept uncontrollably. She could not help but smile at the sight of a maddened Hannon despairing for friends and a sister that no longer lived. The voice continued, concluding with a single word. Unleash. **** ‘Luna?’ A voice she recognized… She thought… awoke her. Luna turned her head toward the voice. Her eyes opened to barely let light through. Celestia? No… She’s not here. She never is. Never was. ‘Y-yes?’ Luna stammered. Eufrimia was leaning on the window frame. It had no glass, almost none, bare the mayor's residence, and had glass windows. A luxury and a sign of wealth in those parts, and a sign of the power wielded by the central authority that governed those mountains from the plains below. Simple signs that fascinated Eufrimia, though she was too busy looking at the reddening sky of sunset to care much more about the way Griffons governed themselves. A sight like this was rare for her. Her father used to, when she was still very young, take her to see the sunset and sunrise. She wished he could be here with her. ‘Are you alright?’ asked Eufrimia, keeping an eye outside their room. Luna did not reply. ‘I-I think we should leave…’ ‘Something wrong, Eufi?’ ‘No… It is just cold.’ ‘That I concur. That I do.’ Eufrimia turned toward Luna, looking her directly in the eyes. ‘And dad must be worried,’ she finally said. ‘He must be, of course. And I bet seeing you after a while will please him greatly.’ ‘Yes!’ Thunder roared in the distance, resonating through the air like traversing solid matter. Lighting followed, brightening the scattered clouds. Then thunder and lightning at once boomed together in successive intervals. Their beds slowly wiggled, and the stone walls of the room rumbled. The earth rumbled. The Griffon populace ran and flew in riotous flocks outside of their tattered homes, heading to the intact temple in the center of Anih’s ruins. The door erupted in crashing knocks as the receptionist called for his guests to get out for safety. Without uttering a single word, Eufrimia then found herself back in her room in Shire. Alone.