Rayne dreamt of a dune filled desert. A desert so vast that the naked eye could not perceive its beginning nor its end. Rayne observed that the flow of time was... seemingly reversed? At lightening speed an occasional tree would appear, and whither away in a matter of seconds as if it was never there.
At the heart of this barren desert was a small stone tiled well, unbending to the flow of time. It was odd, the only structure around was this one well. It was simplistic, no grandeur design to it. Yet it grasped at Rayne's mind with a primal significance.
Suddenly the flow of time stopped, and Rayne found himself laying in the sand.
Above him rested a brightly burning sun surrounded by clear blue skies, its heat polarizing to Falcon Scott's usual climate. 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, waves of memories flooding him as he remembered what had just happened moments prior.
Was Verre okay? Was he alive?
Coddling his face in his coarse hands, Rayne let a heavy sigh out. He could not do anything about it now. All he could do was try to make it through this Nightmare. Fueled by a stirring rage, Rayne stood up.
"Fuck all of this shit." With a venom filled tone Rayne gritted his teeth.
He would not rest until he found who had harmed his brother. Who would dare? Things had never escalated between them and anyone else to this extent before. It was... unacceptable to Rayne.
It bothered him.
Dusting the coarse grains of sand off himself, Rayne noticed his clothing had changed. Instead of the cheap jacket he had been wearing, now he donned a simple white cloth tunic and leather pants. Undoing his belt, he wrapped it around his hand and began to walk.
Cresting at the top of a dune, all that met his gaze was dune upon dune in the distance.
"Well, isn't this something."
With a deep breath, Rayne continued on and headed to where the well was resting. Recalling some of the information Verre had procured for him, he thought of his runes. And after a few moments of concentrating a wispy set of runes appeared in front of his eyes, seemingly dancing as if they were excited to greet him.
Name: Rayne.
True Name: —
Rank: Aspirant.
Soul Core: Dormant.
Memories: —
Echoes: —
Attributes: [Stalwart], [Fated], [Child of Time]
Aspect: [Witness of Time].
Aspect Description: [Merely the witness, utterly useless to command the ebb and flow of time.]
Stopping in his tracks, Rayne let a soft gasp elicit from his parted cracked lips, his eyes widened in genuine surprise. Though he did not quite grasp what everything meant, having so many Attributes seemed like a good thing. Right?
His Aspect was rather puzzling, what did it mean useless? Did he get the short end of the stick somehow? If so, was he fucked?
'At least the attribute Fated sounds cool.'
***
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. Despite the spent time, he felt no hunger. What he did feel was a relentless thirst, unquenchable regardless of how many times he drank from the center well.
Additionally, Rayne had learned more about his attributes and his initial thoughts about [Fated] had... changed to say the least.
[Stalwart] Attribute Description: "You are uncompromising 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."
[Child of Time] Attribute Description: "Time is linear in its course, yet ever so slightly twists to the behest of your will."
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 nay living thing on this forsaken land. Hell, in what way was [Child of Time] useful for? Did it not directly refute his Aspect?
It was rather puzzling to Rayne.
Around the morning of day two Rayne had finally reached the well, and it became his anchor to the small island of sanity. The toll had been growing on his mental wellbeing, the thought of Verre's near death state never left his mind which only served to make matters worse.
It did not help that he still had no clue how his Aspect functioned. It seemingly... was useless, as it stated. Nothing Rayne tried did anything to activate it.
Nor could he figure out his Attributes. The only one that seemed to function was [Stalwart] which Rayne figured was responsible for him remaining somewhat calm. Through his sheer will he was going to get through this bullshit.
At least he liked to think so.
Regardless of these shortcomings, he had to persist. His primitive strategy shifted from wandering to striking out in incremental directions. Shrewdly, Rayne marked in the sand around the well like a clock incremental lines, and would follow them outwards in hopes of finding something. 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?
Had it always been a desert?
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 let down trepidation, he continued to walk through the coarse sand dunes. His 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. 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.
Closing his eyes wearily, Rayne began to let his mind wander. 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.'
This was not the first time he had felt such a thirst though. Back when he and Verre had 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.
Due to this disgust people seemed to hold towards them, 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 laughable life — that a passing Awakened warrior of some sort 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 crimsons red cape flowing freely from the mans back was one of the most vibrant images Rayne had ever witnessed.
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 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.
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 it 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.
But conservatively 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 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 with nostalgia of the past.
Standing up, he climbed over the side of the well and peered down at the water within it. 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 swimming deeper into its depths, a minute elapsed. Then two. Followed by three.
Rayne began to panic as his breath waned, and soon enough his lungs burned in an unfamiliar pain. Letting his mouth open in his panic, he started to drown.