Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 419

Chapter 419: Decisions, decisions
Trace opened his eyes to the clear blue sky of his world.

Time passed differently in dreams. If the world outside were ending, he would be tempted to bring Anaisa here and live out ages together in this realm. They had spent more hours together here than awake, with all the lifetimes they’d built into this place.

And finally, she was back with him. But not here, not yet.

In the blink of an eye, he was at the edge of his world, looking out.

The sight was not pleasant.

A hundredfold larger than his own world, the Emperor’s dream loomed like a blazing red sun scorching everything that came too near.

At least, it tried. In the end, Trace’s control gave him some power to alter the eyesore.

In the presence of so many magical trees, even though they were far below, he could do a lot more than he’d once imagined.

Of course, he needed to, now. The dreams were magical, powerful, and capable of becoming reality. Trace’s own sense of what was real and what was not had become warped during his time here.

He still couldn’t quite convince himself that his wife was really there. Perhaps he’d invented her presence from his desperate state.

The Emperor’s dream flared, lashing out, and Trace gritted his teeth.

It was too dangerous to let out. Things had slipped through his control, mostly by accident, only once on purpose.

He smirked a little when he thought back to the Emperor’s dream of a storm full of magic, nourishing his vile creations.

It had been a great risk to let it out, but it had seemed to be traveling quickly. Trace had taken the chance to implant a version of himself into the dream storm with a message, and then let the tempest escape, hoping it would get far enough to deliver the words to someone who might understand.

The risk had worked, and the wights had dried the room after the deluge passed through the window and onward.

Denholm had looked like a drenched cat, particularly sour and hilariously snobbish. That alone had made Trace believe the ‘slip up’ had been worth it.

The current flare pushing at the seams of the Emperor’s dream was not as innocent as a storm.

Trace dashed forward, determined not to let anything harm his wife. His niece. The royalty that now occupied the chamber.

To varying extents, the other men mattered less to him, but the lives, apart from Denholm’s, were innocent ones. He needed to protect them as well.

“Come on,” He muttered to himself as he soared up to the offending quadrant. With his bare hands, he applied pressure to the edge of the bubble, willing it to stay intact, willing the protrusion to recede.

Slowly, it did, and the clutch of millions of eggs containing human-sized preying mantises with wolfish fangs disappeared.

That was a relief. Some of these were more difficult to suppress than others. There was continual turmoil and rage inside the Emperor’s mind that refused to calm.

Trace had been trying. Injecting elements into the dreams that he thought might be soothing. Often, his interference was met with renewed resentment, as if the Emperor was realizing his dreams were being tampered with.

Counterproductive in the extreme.

Looking back towards his own world, he longed to have time to rest and recuperate in it. Time free from the nonstop responsibilities, asleep or awake, that kept him busy here containing the rage of some ancient being.

Another, nebulous bubble slowly formed next to his. A smile softened his face. He would recognize Anaisa’s dreams even after a hundred years apart, let alone a few weeks.

With a glance at the Emperor’s raging turmoil, he decided that, for a moment, it would be safe to dash away and retrieve her. His reluctance to bring her on a dangerous mission was waning with his energy.

Having her near renewed his strength. Deeply conflicted, he turned towards her dream, ready to see her again.

But he couldn’t tarry, no matter how tempting that was.

Diving forward, he didn’t hesitate at the barrier. Anaisa appeared before him, looking around, searching. He smiled. She remembered herself as she was in her early twenties, never grasping that she was growing older with him.

He didn’t mind. Many people, many dreams, were similar. It was hard to remember you were older than you once were.

Taking in the sight of his young wife, he waited a second until her eyes locked on him. They widened with recognition, and the scenery fell away.

She’d become very practiced over the years at lucid dreaming.

“Trace!”

Anaisa flew towards him, knocking him over in her zeal to embrace him.

“I missed you,” She said against his lips, and he smiled. “The real you, but also this version. I missed all of you.”

“I missed you too,” He was only able to manage the four words before Anaisa’s kisses became more consuming than he could think through. Wasn’t there some reason why they shouldn’t–some task that needed—

“Anaisa,” He pulled away with a stern expression. “We have something to do first. The world, and therefore our sons who live in it–”

“Are in danger. You’re right. I just couldn’t resist you,” She teased, but became serious, but pulled back enough to take his hand. “Let’s go get Ben.”

“All right,” Trace snuck one more brief kiss before pulling her out of her own dream and into the space between worlds.

His heart briefly warred between the need to keep her safer, and the need to have her next to him. He was just about to err on the side of putting her back in her own dream when she interrupted the thought.

“Oh!” She gasped as she looked at the Emperor’s dream. “It’s gargantuan! How do you manage to handle it??”

“The trees below. And when I’m utterly exhausted, the wights take me to walk through the grove, quickly, to replenish my powers. Perhaps I should have done that before attempting to bring two dreamers into his mind…”

“We don’t have to rush into this. We can try a little now and give you a break before we go again? Diplomatic negotiations are almost never solved in one singular meeting.” Her words were comforting, but her eyes were still locked on the enormous, raging sphere.

“That makes me feel worse, not better,” Trace mused. He’d never, for good reason, tested the results of what happened if someone died in another person’s dream.

He hoped he wouldn’t find out today.