Quest 157
[It begins, easily enough, with a step down into the clouds. It wouldn't be the first time Rosella heard tell of a magic door that floated in midair, where walking around it led to one place but walking through it led to quite another. For her father, such a doorway led to the enchanted isle where his true love was held captive; for Rosella, it leads home. The dream begins as she steps forward, down into the clouds, knowing that her footing will be sure for at least this first step; it's only after she's safely through the door that the scene takes its proper shape.
This is the Land of the Clouds, to be sure, but this is not the cool green setting she remembers from her childhood; no, this is the Land of the Clouds that she remembers in her nightmares, hot and misty and charred. Where trees once stood, there are now scorched trunks, and off to the left, like a blemish on the once-green grass, lies an ugly black lake of tar. But most pronounced of all--and what instantly draws Rosella's attention--is the sight in front of her: a massive carcass covered all over in green scales. Its bulk rises like a small mountain in front of her, and its three heads lie on the ground with its mouths slightly open, revealing row after row of glistening teeth. It is clear from the size that, were it standing upright rather than lying dead on the ground, the monstrosity would easily be four times Rosella's height. Nearby, no more than a dozen feet from the still-smoking nostrils, stands a wooden stake with a pile of rope lying haphazardly around its base.
This is not the Land of the Clouds of her childhood. This is the Land of the Clouds where she came to die.
For a minute, she stands perfectly motionless, never taking her eyes off the dragon as though she thinks it might very well get up and attempt to claim her as its dinner once again. But the footing is treacherous here in the clouds, and the only way down--pardon, the only safe way down--is the cave at the other end of the field. She knows this to be a certainty, and her dreams have made it so--there is no going around the dragon, no taking a different path. But the door behind her is still open; she can go back from whence she came, bidding a hasty retreat, or she can go forward and face the carcass of the creature that haunts her nightmares.
Slowly, very slowly, she curls her hands into fists, and she takes a step forward.
The mist swirls as she begins to walk with a steady, determined step, just as she did when she was coming to meet her doom over a year ago--or was it only a day ago, now? One foot after another, and each step leading closer to the scaly monster that was the cause of all the destruction around her. But though her steps are slow, they are also sure; Rosella has a good sense of how to tell the difference between a safe patch of footing and a step that will send her tumbling down to the ravaged countryside below. She walks, and the clouds support her, and soon she is at the stake. She stops for a moment, running her fingers absently down the smooth wood as the vivid memories of her close brush with death come rushing back, and then she continues on her chosen path.
She tenses as she makes her way past the three sets of jaws, twisting her fingers into the bright red fabric of her peasant dress, and holds her breath as she slowly but surely finds her way around.
The air is stifling hot and hangs like a thick curtain, but as Rosella turns her back on the dragon and walks away, a cool breeze begins to blow across the landscape. She first turns her head, then picks her way carefully over to the edge of the clouds, gazing down as though she is looking for the source of the breeze.
Below is Daventry, just as she left it before her adventures first to Tamir and later to the City; great chasms rip through the earth, rocks and rubble litter the countryside, and the few trees that remain standing all show visible signs of charring. What once was a beautiful green landscape is now torn and burned, ravaged by the three-headed dragon that now lies dead in the clouds just a few paces away. This is her kingdom, the home that has been waiting for her all this time.
A faraway voice from down below, barely audible, calls, "Rosella is safe! The kingdom is saved!"
Her eyes glimmer as she takes a step back, heading purposefully for the cave mouth. Inside are the familiar stone steps--dozens upon dozens of steps--and she pulls up her skirt a few inches as she begins to descend, fearing that its length may tangle in her legs and cause her to slip. She's never had such good luck with steps, after all. Step, step, step after step, and soon she is back on the ground and making her way through the door.
As she steps out through the door in the mountain and into the countryside, a voice calls again, louder this time:
"Rosella is safe! The kingdom is saved!"
A smile breaks across her face as sunlight breaks from behind the gray clouds in the sky, and suddenly the field is lit with golden light as she begins to hurry her way home. With every passing second she grows a little bit faster until at last she is full-out running, and with every step she takes, the land begins to look a little less burned, a little less desolate. When she is halfway home, it begins to burst with life, green and growing and beautiful. The grass is turning from an ugly brown to a healthy green, the scorched trees are regaining their leaves, and the now-cloudless sky lightens and lightens until it is a beautiful clear blue--the same blue as Rosella's eyes.
She runs until she reaches Castle Daventry, hurtling across the bridge over the sparkling blue water of the moat, and racing up the steps and into the open doors. As she sets foot on the carpet, the final change occurs--her dress turns pure white and a glittering tiara now crowns her head, nestled comfortably amongst waving golden curls.
The voice calls, once again, "Rosella is safe! The kingdom is saved!"
And she rushes down the familar entrance hall with her hair streaming like a banner behind her, glass slippers shining on her feet as she turns the corner and steps--
--into a stunning ballroom, filled with warm golden light and plenty of familiar faces, and dozens upon dozens of roses.
Her father is there, tall and proud and in his finest regalia, a scarlet cape around his shoulders and a golden crown on his head as he smiles proudly down at his long-lost daughter. Her mother is there, with her diamond-and-sapphire jewelry glittering and a royal blue gown to match. Her brother is there, his face the twin of her own, looking every bit the prince he is and smiling fondly at his beloved sister.
And her friends are there, all her friends, the ones she almost couldn't bear to leave behind in the City she came from. They are here, so many familiar faces, and all in their finest clothes. They smile at her, or wave, or grin, and Rosella is nearly in tears herself, she is so overjoyed to see them all together. She has had two homes, one among her family and one among her friends, and now she no longer needs to choose between them; they are all here for her, all gathered to celebrate her return, and now they are all safe and warm and content.
The musicians begin to play a lively tune, and in a rush of songs and laughter and chattering voices, the merrymaking begins. Rosella is home, and her family and friends are together at last, and everything is happy.
She is dreaming, princess that she is, and that is why she dares to believe that it may even be happily ever after.]
[OOC: Come on down, stop on by, visit scenic Daventry (or not-so-scenic, depending on how you feel about dragon-ravaged landscapes). Feel free to stop in anywhere in the dream, and if there's something specific you want to do or work out with me, drop me a line on my dream thread over here! Also, as a note--just because the narrative ends at Castle Daventry doesn't mean the dream ends there, necessarily; characters are perfectly welcome to hang out at the party and interact with Rosella there as long as they want. Enjoy!]
This is the Land of the Clouds, to be sure, but this is not the cool green setting she remembers from her childhood; no, this is the Land of the Clouds that she remembers in her nightmares, hot and misty and charred. Where trees once stood, there are now scorched trunks, and off to the left, like a blemish on the once-green grass, lies an ugly black lake of tar. But most pronounced of all--and what instantly draws Rosella's attention--is the sight in front of her: a massive carcass covered all over in green scales. Its bulk rises like a small mountain in front of her, and its three heads lie on the ground with its mouths slightly open, revealing row after row of glistening teeth. It is clear from the size that, were it standing upright rather than lying dead on the ground, the monstrosity would easily be four times Rosella's height. Nearby, no more than a dozen feet from the still-smoking nostrils, stands a wooden stake with a pile of rope lying haphazardly around its base.
This is not the Land of the Clouds of her childhood. This is the Land of the Clouds where she came to die.
For a minute, she stands perfectly motionless, never taking her eyes off the dragon as though she thinks it might very well get up and attempt to claim her as its dinner once again. But the footing is treacherous here in the clouds, and the only way down--pardon, the only safe way down--is the cave at the other end of the field. She knows this to be a certainty, and her dreams have made it so--there is no going around the dragon, no taking a different path. But the door behind her is still open; she can go back from whence she came, bidding a hasty retreat, or she can go forward and face the carcass of the creature that haunts her nightmares.
Slowly, very slowly, she curls her hands into fists, and she takes a step forward.
The mist swirls as she begins to walk with a steady, determined step, just as she did when she was coming to meet her doom over a year ago--or was it only a day ago, now? One foot after another, and each step leading closer to the scaly monster that was the cause of all the destruction around her. But though her steps are slow, they are also sure; Rosella has a good sense of how to tell the difference between a safe patch of footing and a step that will send her tumbling down to the ravaged countryside below. She walks, and the clouds support her, and soon she is at the stake. She stops for a moment, running her fingers absently down the smooth wood as the vivid memories of her close brush with death come rushing back, and then she continues on her chosen path.
She tenses as she makes her way past the three sets of jaws, twisting her fingers into the bright red fabric of her peasant dress, and holds her breath as she slowly but surely finds her way around.
The air is stifling hot and hangs like a thick curtain, but as Rosella turns her back on the dragon and walks away, a cool breeze begins to blow across the landscape. She first turns her head, then picks her way carefully over to the edge of the clouds, gazing down as though she is looking for the source of the breeze.
Below is Daventry, just as she left it before her adventures first to Tamir and later to the City; great chasms rip through the earth, rocks and rubble litter the countryside, and the few trees that remain standing all show visible signs of charring. What once was a beautiful green landscape is now torn and burned, ravaged by the three-headed dragon that now lies dead in the clouds just a few paces away. This is her kingdom, the home that has been waiting for her all this time.
A faraway voice from down below, barely audible, calls, "Rosella is safe! The kingdom is saved!"
Her eyes glimmer as she takes a step back, heading purposefully for the cave mouth. Inside are the familiar stone steps--dozens upon dozens of steps--and she pulls up her skirt a few inches as she begins to descend, fearing that its length may tangle in her legs and cause her to slip. She's never had such good luck with steps, after all. Step, step, step after step, and soon she is back on the ground and making her way through the door.
As she steps out through the door in the mountain and into the countryside, a voice calls again, louder this time:
"Rosella is safe! The kingdom is saved!"
A smile breaks across her face as sunlight breaks from behind the gray clouds in the sky, and suddenly the field is lit with golden light as she begins to hurry her way home. With every passing second she grows a little bit faster until at last she is full-out running, and with every step she takes, the land begins to look a little less burned, a little less desolate. When she is halfway home, it begins to burst with life, green and growing and beautiful. The grass is turning from an ugly brown to a healthy green, the scorched trees are regaining their leaves, and the now-cloudless sky lightens and lightens until it is a beautiful clear blue--the same blue as Rosella's eyes.
She runs until she reaches Castle Daventry, hurtling across the bridge over the sparkling blue water of the moat, and racing up the steps and into the open doors. As she sets foot on the carpet, the final change occurs--her dress turns pure white and a glittering tiara now crowns her head, nestled comfortably amongst waving golden curls.
The voice calls, once again, "Rosella is safe! The kingdom is saved!"
And she rushes down the familar entrance hall with her hair streaming like a banner behind her, glass slippers shining on her feet as she turns the corner and steps--
--into a stunning ballroom, filled with warm golden light and plenty of familiar faces, and dozens upon dozens of roses.
Her father is there, tall and proud and in his finest regalia, a scarlet cape around his shoulders and a golden crown on his head as he smiles proudly down at his long-lost daughter. Her mother is there, with her diamond-and-sapphire jewelry glittering and a royal blue gown to match. Her brother is there, his face the twin of her own, looking every bit the prince he is and smiling fondly at his beloved sister.
And her friends are there, all her friends, the ones she almost couldn't bear to leave behind in the City she came from. They are here, so many familiar faces, and all in their finest clothes. They smile at her, or wave, or grin, and Rosella is nearly in tears herself, she is so overjoyed to see them all together. She has had two homes, one among her family and one among her friends, and now she no longer needs to choose between them; they are all here for her, all gathered to celebrate her return, and now they are all safe and warm and content.
The musicians begin to play a lively tune, and in a rush of songs and laughter and chattering voices, the merrymaking begins. Rosella is home, and her family and friends are together at last, and everything is happy.
She is dreaming, princess that she is, and that is why she dares to believe that it may even be happily ever after.]
[OOC: Come on down, stop on by, visit scenic Daventry (or not-so-scenic, depending on how you feel about dragon-ravaged landscapes). Feel free to stop in anywhere in the dream, and if there's something specific you want to do or work out with me, drop me a line on my dream thread over here! Also, as a note--just because the narrative ends at Castle Daventry doesn't mean the dream ends there, necessarily; characters are perfectly welcome to hang out at the party and interact with Rosella there as long as they want. Enjoy!]