Chapter 3 #5
“So, he did as the voice commanded, slipping back into a slumber that would last for centuries. Lifetimes of dreaming. And oh, what beautiful dreams he dreamed. Colors he’d never imagined.
Realms of creatures far too captivating to describe.
When he slumbered, all of the pain of his life before melted away, replaced with a peace that wrapped around him like swaddling.
“Yet, like all dreams, it came to an end. Once again, the Sleeper found himself awake, the harsh reality of the world coming back into focus as the bliss melted away. This time, he did not wake to find himself a prisoner, but an honored guest. The Church had watched over his body through the years he’d slumbered, and now he found himself face-to-face with a Saint.
The Saint told him that they’d received specific instructions from Annora herself, before her passing, of how to care for him whilst he slept, and that he was free to leave the Sanctuary City, should he choose to do so.
“The Sleeper had nowhere to go, no cherished ones with which to spend his days.
So, the Church welcomed him into their care, and the Sleeper remained with them, behind the walls of their city.
He found his curiosity piqued at the practices of the Church, and their study of the elusive force that blessed him all those centuries before.
Yet, when he would try and commune with the Source as others in the sect did, he found no voice to answer him.
“Even his creator, that benevolent light which had awakened the magic in his blood, had turned its back on him, remaining silent through the passing years.
But there in the valley of his doubts, the Sleeper knew that there was more to be done with his existence.
If the Source would not answer his call, then he would press ahead on his own.
For there were many injustices he saw across the Expanse, and he alone held the knowledge that seemed to have been kept from the other Magi.
The truth about how magic first came into the world, and how fate could be twisted to make it happen again.
“And now, my friends, the time has come. Through endless patience, the Sleeper has seen his machinations take hold. The Second Awakening has come, bringing this gift to you all. Only one question remains. What will you do with what you’ve been given?
Will you continue to suffer under the yoke of those who came before you?
Those whose greed and lust have corrupted their gifts into weapons to be used for subjugation.
Their grip on the reins of power slackens with each passing day.
The foundation’s cracks spread deep and wide.
With the right amount of pressure, it will break, and this world can know the peace and prosperity that should have come long ago.
“There are those in this room who still doubt. I can see it plainly in your eyes. It is understandable. How can you be expected to trust in someone with whom you have no connection? It is a fool’s errand for me to expect you to behave otherwise.
So, let me prove my mettle. Let me show you what is possible in this new reality of ours. ”
The storyteller paused, raising a hand to their chest. The room around us was deathly still as we waited for what would come next.
A man to my right gasped a moment later, his own hand rising to mirror the storytellers.
Then another on my left. Then a ripple of gasps as the crowd pulsed with movement.
I grabbed hold of Malachi to ensure he wouldn’t be ripped away from us in the chaos.
“Bast!” Cirian called over the din.
I’d lost sight of him in the churning of bodies as the crowd pressed against one another.
“Peace!” cried the storyteller.
A wave of magical energy emanated from the center of the room. My limbs fell heavy at my side, as if they were being weighted down, and I strained against the strange restraint. “Witness, friends. Witness the ties that bind us together in harmony.”
Another ripple of magic permeated the air, distorting my vision in a shimmer of red light. The room once again fell silent, all of those present turning toward the center in unison. A pressure against my chest drew my gaze downward, and I blinked twice to try and make sense of what I was seeing.
A tether, crimson red like blood, ran from my chest, connecting me to the storyteller. With another blink of the eye, my vision was filled with more tethers, each of them lighting up with the pulse of magic as they converged, connecting the entire crowd with the figure at the center of the room.
“Peace,” the figure continued, their voice echoing through the stillness.
“For I have shared with you the story of the Sleeper, the one who first brought magic into this world. But my friends, there is something I must confess. The story I have brought before you tonight is no mere legend. It is not like the false histories propagated by the Church. For you see, it was my own firsthand account of the events that led us here. You ask yourselves who it is that stands before you now, and I have but one answer—”
A voice echoed through my head, so vast and loud, I wondered if I would merely cease existing under the weight of it.
I am the Sleeper. Now, I am awake.