But truly seeing the impoverished land and run-down village after being immersed in such a beautiful dream left me with a feeling of disappointment. Having awoken from the dream, life could gradually be restored to normal, or so I thought. One by one they stepped out, teary-eyed with emotion as last night’s incredible dream still lingered. The very next day, no-one roused from their sleep until after midday. I saw the Village Head embrace his long deceased wife, I saw the military veteran return to the barracks in perfect health, and I saw the merchant smile as he opened a business in Savannah, greeted by an endless flow of customers. No poverty, no famine, no pestilence to be seen. The dust spread all around, weaving the most extraordinary dream I’d ever seen… Where once stood desolate, barren wastes, now grew never-wilting blossoms, rivers of fine wine, and a fruitful field of golden wheat. The nightmare was totally dispelled, and the Hypogean fled. On the brink of losing my grip on the world, Tasi fluttered her wings vigorously, glittering dust gushed forth shattering the stalemate between dream and nightmare. The endless back and forth between dream and nightmare was seemingly going to swallow me, and yet I was fully prepared to be swallowed. Sometimes I would find myself enveloped in an ocean of flowers, other times a sea of flames. The decisive battle happened in my dream, a wondrous dream and a spine-chilling nightmare mingling and alternating. Several days continued in much this way, as Tasi appeared in everyone’s dreams and fought fiercely with the Hypogean. Even though the nightmares hadn’t gone entirely, there was now a ray of hope for us. When I reawakened, the villagers were thrilled, all talking about Tasi and how she appeared in their dreams. Just before I lost consciousness, the two began to face off against one another. This demonic thing, a Hypogean called Ezizh, was responsible for the villagers’ nightmares. Its arms had been tied up with vines and an ominous black mist permeated the air around it. Opposite her was some sort of demonic creature, it rose from the nightmare that the dust had not yet touched. “Ezizh! I will not permit you to foul people’s dreams any longer!” Whatever the dust covered, the nightmare beneath it seemed to dissolve as if it were snow in the sun. A little pink-haired girl with butterfly wings appeared, fluttering around, a shower of magical glittering dust falling through the air as she flew. However, something about this one was different. One night, I slipped into yet another nightmare. Unable to fend off the exhaustion, they would eventually pass out, only to be reawakened by those horrific nightmares. Everyone was on edge, their dark-ringed eyes heavy with sleep deprivation, they were afraid to sleep but too exhausted to avoid passing out. Things carried on this way for about a week, the entire village plagued by nightmares. There was nothing for it, we had to wait.
The Village Head sent for help from the Temple, but the village was so out of the way that getting there and back would take the best part of three months. The whole village was enshrouded by a sense of unease. But then as time went on, the number of folks having nightmares grew, and so did their anxiety. In the beginning, folks were a little anxious about it, but found comfort in reassuring themselves that it was mere "coincidence". The military veterans who’d served with the Frontier Regiment would see blood-soaked Maulers, cascading over the border and slaughtering the townsfolk… In short, they all dreamed of the things they feared most, the things they didn’t want to confront. Farmers would see their crops fail and families starve, merchants would see bandits pillaging and raiding. At least, that was the case until a few months ago…Ī few months ago, folks in the village started having nightmares, lots of nightmares. The villagers live a simple life, it’s tough, but not so tough that they can’t handle it. It doesn’t have much to do with the rest of the world, but there’s enough to get by on. I live in a far out backwater village, right at the cusp of the Empire. Laughing at himself with a mocking chortle, he began to tell me of his experience. But simply saying "a wondrous dream, of course" was becoming increasingly harder to say. Meeting his bloodshot gaze, it was clear his question was asked in all seriousness. "If you could choose, would you pick a wondrous dream, or a spine-chilling nightmare?"
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