Out of all the places I have resided. In all the beds I have slept in. The elven people really do bring me the most comfort and pleasure. Dreams seem to be where the elves are most comfortable. It is said that one's truest desires can be found within one's dreams. Where they reconnect with the origin of their people, this is what makes them special. Magic.
A bursting dam of magic, nearly every single one of them. How lucky am I to find myself here... Keceo. I think I quite like this place. Through their dreams, I will build their desire, then build my following. I suspect that in no time at all, I will have them crawling to me in these desperate times.
Mysterious note discovered in a book written about dreams – unknown author.
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The rustling of lace fabric, the assault of a pillow, and the rushes of wind were all that was audible within the Chosen One's room. Sleep evaded her at every turn.
When Gwyn closed her eyes, Elise would appear. The symmetrical, soft features, along with her lavender eyes and the long, straight pink hair, were so unusual, but they fit the elf extremely well.
So well, in fact, that it was all Gwyn could think about.
Almost like a waking nightmare, she couldn't get the elf out of her brain. But instead of terror, it was… something more pleasant. A pounding in her chest thrummed on as she curled to the other side of the bed, sighing to herself.
~
Elise was also struggling to sleep, but for a different reason. As an aspiring Dyad, she trained to cast with and without words at the highest level.
"Sleep surrender."
Elise mouthed the incantation with near silence.
She stared at the ceiling, envisioning the perfect image of herself in her mind, lying under the covers of her bed. She was sure the spell took a moment to have an effect. Yet, no change. A long, deep sigh followed by another cast of the incantation.
"Sleep surrender."
She pictured herself in bed again, blanket reaching her pointed ears, pink hair curled behind her, and her eyes firmly shut. This image was more picturesque in her mind than the first, but it still wasn't enough.
"Blasted words."
She was still wide awake on Keceo as the day turned to night. If she got this spell right, she would be asleep nearly instantaneously, or at least she's been told.
Although some of Keceo slept, some aspiring casters stayed awake, trying to master the "sleep surrender" incantation with and without words. Elise wanted to master it with words first, which, as is very well known, is much easier than the latter.
Elise was a skilled caster, even mastering many spells without a poetic component. Despite her skill, there were still many things outside her range.
She had learned the hard way, as most young casters do, that performing any spell or incantation that affected oneself is some of the most difficult magic on Keceo.
Successfully performing sleep magic on oneself is far more challenging than simply enhancing one's strength.
It's such a challenge that it has become a common saying in Keceo that "You lose more sleep practicing the shortcuts."
What is unfathomable to Elise is that there are even more powerful known versions of sleeping incantations. The one she attempted over and over again was "sleep surrender." A two-word alliteration spell.
Two-word alliteration spells are known to be much easier, require less mana, and be faster to cast than spells with more words in them.
A more advanced version of the same spell is "sweet surrender sleeping serenity", a four-word alliteration spell, which has an even more advanced version: "surely slow sleep shall surrender sweet serenity", a seven-word alliteration spell.
However, casting either the four-word or the seven-word versions can be seen as too dangerous.
The longer the string of words used, the more powerful the spell when it comes to alliteration. Even when cast as intended, these spells can cause the user to fall into a coma for weeks or even seasons if not adequately managed, which is often why they aren't cast on the user.
There is a known fear always lying dormant in the back of a caster's mind. Spell rebounding. Gods forbid.
To cast a spell in the first place, the user must have a clear image in their mind of what they are casting. Anxiety, pressure, or a bad mental image can cause a spell to rebound, among other things. The consequences vary, but always do something unintended by the caster.
If a sleeping incantation like "sleep surrender" rebounds, for example, the user can find themselves awake, as if they've drunk several cups of espresso, suddenly wired when sleep was clearly on their mind.
A worse consequence could be the complete and total inability to sleep at all. It is said that some elves have gouged out their own eyes as their mind slipped from them, unable to sleep for days or even weeks at a time. It's easy to imagine why people have anxiety trying to cast the "sleep surrender" incantation.
Once a spell rebounds, its effects require the hand of a much more powerful caster to undo. Undoing a spell that rebounded has been regarded as "Untying a fishing net of magical fuckery," by Whisperer Firedeath.
That's why, in most cases, casters stick to the "sleep surrender" spell. A widely safer incantation. If it rebounds, a caster will find themselves at most a singular day out of rest.
"Sleep surrender."
Nothing. Elise sighed. The spell fizzled, which is when a spell doesn't work at all with no consequence, aside from using mana. Often, if failure is unavoidable, the preferred outcome is that a spell fizzles and doesn't rebound ever.
But it has been years for Elise. She'd stare at the ceiling, she'd stare at herself in a mirror, repeating the self-afflicting incantations under the words uttered didn't really feel like words anymore. She'd been successful with some, but nearly every spell she'd attempted to cast on herself has failed.
That is, until recently.
Elise tried a spell that affected her hair color, she intended for her hair to be a bright and noticeable red.
She tried for hours. Each time, the spell fizzled and consumed a little of her mana. Blood would occasionally trickle from her nose and ears as she increasingly became more exhausted.
On one of her casts, the spell appeared to have fizzled; she felt herself growing increasingly tired, but then her hair slowly turned the shade of red she had been hoping for.
Yet, when it was halfway completed, the red turned to a pink color that she was not expecting. The spell rebounded in an inconsequential way, but still unintended. Some gawked at the challenging spell Elise had accomplished, changing one's hair color. However, no one admitted as much.
The truth is, Elise was the only one who knew the actual failure in her attempts.
Her brother and sister were Dyads, the highest level one could reach without dying. They were an inspiration to her people, according to her father. This was a point of contention between Elise and her family, especially since she was considered the runt of the Sylvian name.
Sometimes, if Elise were lucky, they would call her "E-loser", which she didn't find particularly flattering.
But now, here she was. All but banished to the Gilded Towers until she reached the standard her father deemed acceptable.
"Sleep surrender."
Elise whispered the spell.
This time, she envisioned a cold glass of water on a bedside nightstand. She saw herself turning in the bed, the scarlet and white covers shifting as she did. Then her eyes opened in the vision.
Someone was beside her, the person turned over, and it was the most recent Chosen One, Gwynevere Grim. Elise jolted upright, breaking the spell. She did a double-take to see if Gwyn was truly there, but the elf was alone.
"What was that?"
A racing feeling was now in Elise's chest, and long into the night, that image continued to invade her training: a young, human girl with freckles and flushed cheeks staring longingly at Elise.
Frustration was building all over Keceo because of the new Chosen One. Elise was frustrated, too, but it wasn't because the Chosen One was summoned; it was because the image of Gwyn invaded her practice.
Surely, I can't have feelings for a Chosen One, not after what happened.
The thought consumed Elise long into the night.