Rayne dreamt of a dune riddled desert. One so vast that the naked eye could not perceive where it began, nor where it ended. Rayne observed that the flow of time was seemingly... frozen? Nothing shifted in the dry landscape, not even a grain of sand seemed to be able to move under the scrutiny of time.
Watching the barren desert, Rayne tried and failed continuously to spot any living thing, or any hints of civilization.
Yet at the very heart of this seemingly barren desert Rayne spotted a small stone tiled well, resting underneath a cobbled stone pavilion. It was simplistic, no grandeur design to it being. Oddly enough however, it grasped at Rayne's mind with a beguilingly primitive significance.
'Just what is this... place?'
After what felt like hours of watching the barren landscape sit still, Rayne found himself suddenly sprawled out on the scalding sands of the desert.
Above him rested a brightly burning sun surrounded by clear baby blue skies, its heat the polar opposite to Falcon Scott's freezing winds. Hell, Rayne had never felt so warm in his life.
Sitting up abruptly, Rayne looked around taking in his surroundings.
'Sand, huh.'
Without warning, a surge of adrenaline coursed through Rayne's body overpowering his senses, as waves of memories stabbed at his brain. Forced to relive it all, Rayne remembered Verre leaving, then searching for him. After a moment he recalled his conversation with Dell, as well as finding Verre shortly after.
Rayne's breath staggered at the thought of Verre, his chest tightened as if it was being crushed under a mountain.
Was Verre okay?
Was he alive?
Cusping his face slowly with his coarse hands, Rayne attempted to mitigate the fear and let an even breath out. He could not do anything about it currently, now was not the time to break down. For all he knew there could be some hidden monster waiting to kill him any moment.
He took a breath, and exhaled.
Followed by another, and one after that.
Scowling, Rayne forced himself to stand, finally noticing just how scalding the sand really was as his hands glistened bright red from resting them on the coarse sand.
"Damn it all." Rayne growled out to no one in particular, his faced contorted in mixture of rage and sorrow.
Who had dared to attack Verre? Why the hell had it been him and not himself?
The mere sight of seeing Verre bleed out on the floor while he helplessly drifted to sleep served to only piss him off more. Inevitably he would survive this trial not out of his urge to survive, but of spite.
Dusting the coarse grains of sand off himself, Rayne noticed his clothing had changed. Instead of the cheap synthetic jacket he had been wearing, now he donned a simple white cloth tunic and leather pants. Undoing his tanned leather belt, he wrapped it around his hand in a meager attempt to arm himself, and began to walk.
Cresting at the top of a dune, all that met his stormy gaze was dune upon dune in the distance.
"Well, isn't this something."
With a deep breath, Rayne continued on and headed to where he had originally spotted the well. As he walked, he recalled some of the information Verre had procured for him and thought of his runes.
And after a few moments of concentrating a wispy set of runes finally appeared in front of his eyes, seemingly dancing as if they were excited to greet him at last.
Name: Rayne.
True Name: —
Rank: Aspirant.
Soul Core: Dormant.
Memories: —
Echoes: —
Attributes: [Uncompromising], [Fated]
Aspect: [Suitor to Power].
Stopping in his tracks, Rayne let a soft gasp elicit from his cracked lips, his eyes widened in genuine surprise. A small ember of hope flickered in his sorrow stricken heart as he read through the wispy runes.
Though he did not quite grasp what everything meant, having these Attributes seemed like a good thing. Right? Taking a closer look at his Aspect, he squinted slightly.
Aspect: [Suitor to Power].
Aspect Description: [Simply courting the concept of power, prove yourself worthy to receive it's appraisal.]
His small ember quickly doused itself out and a small frown crept onto his lips as he read the description. The Aspect itself was rather puzzling, what did it mean courting? Did he get the short end of the stick somehow?
And what did it mean by "concept of power"? It was all rather vague.
'At least the attribute Fated sounds cool. Sounds like something a protagonist or important person would have.'
***
Nearly a full two days had already passed in this forsaken desert, and Rayne was no closer to figuring out how to leave it than the moment he arrived. The sun would rise and set yet no winds flowed, as if the landscape itself was frozen in time.
Despite the spent time, he discovered he felt no hunger. What he did feel was a relentless thirst, unquenchable regardless of how many times he drank from the center well. Whether it was the water itself that created the thirst, or the desert Rayne knew not.
What he did know was how frustrating the heat was to be in.
Rayne for once in his short life missed the cold.
Additionally, Rayne had learned more about his attributes and his initial thoughts about [Fated] had... changed to say the least.
Turns out he was not the protagonist. More like dead meat if he ran into a Nightmare Creature. There was no telling how strong the creature would be!
Or weak if he was lucky — though Rayne knew his luck to be rotten so he wasn't counting on that.
[Uncompromising] Attribute Description: "You are unyielding in your will."
[Fated] Attribute Description: "The strings of Fate wrap tightly around you. Unlikely events, both good and bad, are drawn by your presence. There are those who are blessed, and there are those who are cursed... but rarely both."
All of these revelations had initially shocked Rayne, he was not accustomed to such oddities quite yet. Though in time Rayne would grow very used to the weird things within the Dream Realm.
Was [Fated] responsible for this barren wasteland of a desert? Rayne had yet to find any living thing on this forsaken land. Hell, in what way was [Uncompromising] useful for?
How did will matter in a place such as this?
In fact, how could he use his Attributes anyways?
It was all rather puzzling to Rayne.
***
Around the morning of day three Rayne had finally reached the well, and it became his anchor to the small island known as his sanity. The toll had been growing on his mental wellbeing, the thought of Verre's near death state never left his mind, which only burned his candle faster.
It did not help that he still had no clue how his Aspect functioned. It seemingly... was worthless. Nothing Rayne tried did anything to activate it.
Nor could he figure out his Attributes. The only one that seemed to function was [Uncompromising] which Rayne figured was responsible for him remaining sane — or at least he thought he was functioning somewhat sanely.
Through his own will to seek revenge he was going to get through this bullshit.
Or at least he liked to think so.
Regardless of all these shortcomings, Rayne had to persist. His primitive strategy shifted from wandering around the well, to striking out in incremental directions. Shrewdly, Rayne marked in the sand around the well like a clock at set intervals, and would follow them outwards in a line with the hopes of finding something or someone.
Despite only drawing out the marks in the sand with his fingers, they never faded.
That was something Rayne had noticed about this place. The skies were forever clear of clouds, and the air lacked any natural movement of wind. What kind of place was this to not have such natural interactions?
Had it always been a desert?
'It really does feel as if time is frozen in this hellhole... Well, excluding the sun I suppose.'
At least a clue of some sort, hell even a beast of some kind to fight would alleviate his burden. Currently he was following the third increment of the twelve he dug out by the well, and already the sun was close to setting.
After a few hours he would give up and turn around in order to try all twelve directions, but after traveling this much already it seemed apparent to Rayne his strategy was terrible.
'Damn it all! What am I supposed to do?'
Shaking his head in dismay, he continued to walk through the coarse sand dunes. His tanned leather boots had began to decay from the rough sand too, which irritated the skin of his feet. At this rate, his body would succumb to the Spell long before his mind.
Was sand supposed to be this coarse? It seemed unusual, but what did Rayne know about sand anyways...
After all he had never been to a goddamn desert.
***
Well over a week had passed by now, and still Rayne could not figure out how to conquer the Nightmare. He was approaching his wits end, his sanity teetering on the verge of the abyss. Over the course of the week he had explored the all incremental lines multiple times, and each time when he walked far enough he would blink and be back at the well once more.
Slumped against the wall of the well, Rayne closed his eyes in an attempt to rest them. Although thankfully he could not starve in this shithole, he still felt fatigue accumulate and his intense thirst. So, Rayne decided to rest.
There would be time to explore later.
Oddly enough, Rayne recalled that his thirst had only begun after drinking from the cold water of the well. If time was truly frozen in these lands, then was the water of the well an exception?
Opening his eyes wearily, Rayne let his gaze wander and absentmindedly bathed in his memories. Hours had been spent like this before, simply letting his mind run free.
"Isn't that right, Verre? I can do it all later anyways." Rayne's tone was calloused, his voice raw and scratchy from his dry throat. Even his eyes began to lose the very light of life within them.
"Ah, I'm losing it aren't I? You're not even here Verre."
"Tch."
This was not the first time he had felt such a cruel thirst though. Back when he and Verre had originally lost their parents and were put onto the frozen streets, they had nothing to their name.
People often looked upon the two small children as mere vermin.
It was as if the moment they had lost any status of wealth and belonging they had also conceded their emplacement within humanity.
It was due to this blatant display of disgust that people seemed to bare towards them that Rayne and Verre both starved. Often weeks at a time they would go without a meal of any kind. They relied on dumpsters to stomach the burden of hunger, but could not subside their thirst.
It was a stroke of luck — perhaps the only luck in his thus far laughable life — that a passing Awakened warrior of some kind dropped a bottle of clean, fresh water on the filth laden ground near where they had been huddled together for warmth.
Rayne still remembered that Awakened's appearance. Donning a set of steel armor, with a single anvil crest placed on the centerpiece of the chest. The sleek crimson red cape flowing freely from the mans back was one of the most vibrant sights Rayne had ever seen.
He had later learned that that man was apart of a big deal clan of sorts.
Shaking his head in frustration, Rayne forced himself to push through his delirium. Why would he rest when his own brother could be dead? He had wasted enough time here already.
Far too much time.
Frankly, it was embarrassing that he could not keep himself together. This was a trial, and he was already failing it. Was this all he was made of? Had he survived countless fights to the death for naught?
Turning to face the water within the well, Rayne gazed deeply into it. Despite the lonesome bright sun above providing plenty of light, he could not see more than a foot into the well.
Nor could he tell how deep its waters ran.
It seemed that today was the day he had decided to try diving in the well. He had considered such an idea for a time but... well, he did not know how to swim.
What had led to this... idea of sorts was the odd primitive sense of importance the well held to Rayne. It went beyond his instinctive senses to treasure the water from the well — which never shifted in quantity, seemingly refilling itself as soon as he would drink — rather it seemed like the structure itself held some purpose.
Added to that was the odd thirst that had been derived from the waters of the well. All of it seemed too suspicious to mean nothing.
Conservatively though Rayne was afraid that his guess would lead to nothing. Perhaps he was meant to find another structure out in the desert, or perhaps it was an internal battle he had to conquer before he could explore further out.
Yet there was no better way to find out than dive into it. He had exhausted all other viable options, and the brutal heat was clearly getting the better of him. Besides he could no longer afford to waste any more time dulling his senses listlessly with nostalgia of the past.
Standing up slowly, Rayne stretched his arms over his head and climbed over the ledge of the well. Peering down at the water within it he could still see no more than a meter down the dark water. Rayne closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a deep breath.
"Here goes nothing."
Opening his eyes revealed a long lost, faint glimmer of light within his gaze, and sharply he dove head first into the cold dark water. Erratically swinging his arms pushing himself deeper into its depths, a few seconds elapsed. Then a moment, followed by another.
Rayne began to panic as his breath waned, and soon enough his lungs burned in an alien like pain. Letting his mouth open in his panic, he started to drown as he clawed at his throat helplessly.