Notes: A continuation of the one-shot story "Sea of Reeds" and "Land of Furrows". I would advise it best to read those first, otherwise you'll be missing some things. Also, while this chapter is shorter than the others... This is out of necessity, as this will prove to be rather important as we go along...

Warnings: This story contains various plot devices, and if it ends up being continued/finished... There will be genderbending and eventual slash. While it will not be hardcore anything (a kiss and hug at most, surely), be forewarned. Any criticisms of this or flames will be looked at and promptly posted for others to mock at.

Finally, any reviews are appreciated, especially those which contain constructive criticism. Thank you!

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The Nation of Oneironauts

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Instructions

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/Travels of a Ryassophore/

It was near two months since the Ryassophore left the land of the furrows behind, when the bi-yearly wave washed from the inland sea over the trenches. It was higher than the past decade's waves, splashing up over the town's walls and spilling into homes and businesses, though it did little damage beyond sweeping the streets clean of yesterday's rubbish. However, this wave unlike any other previously recorded, as it left a thin film of gold, shimmery sand in it's wake, vastly different from the pebbles and dark silt that was normally washed inland. This colored the plain grey landscape into a glistening wonderland whenever the sun split through the clouds.

This caused a great gold fervor as all of the Brendalston's citizens rushed about collecting the goldy dirt and bombarding the lone merchant who was in the town at the time for identification. However, despite all hope, the glimmers were decided upon to not be gold, but instead simple sand from the bottom of the sea. In any case, the happening of the gold silt was quickly replaced by an even stranger occurrence.

In one of the closer trenches, the baker's daughter discovered a ochure-colored devilfish that had long trailing tenticles that swung to and fro as it whisked itself back and forth, trying to crawl from it's enclosure. Curious, the girl had stepped over, only to spill over backwards when a long, slimy tendril curled up out of the water and slid along her ankle. Her wild splashing and shrill screams called over some of the nearest scavenger-men who immediately called for a pitchfork or spear of some sort after calming the girl down.

As the spearsman made his way over the water to the strange, grand creature, it flipped over, in the middle of climbing into a deeper trench. A milky-grey eyes blinked and peered up from the water, a strange slit-shaped pupil focusing in on the spear poised above it. As the other townsmen gathered around the two there came a long silence, tampered only by the low whistling of the wind. Later, there would be rumours of what passed from beast to man, but the spearsman would later say that he would never handle a spear once again, and the matter was quickly dropped.

There was a splash and the water in the trench quickly turned a deep, dark maroon. A few tentacles curled around the spear before the thrashing and bubbling stopped, and the bizarre creature was dragged by it's bulbous head into the middle of town where the skin was slit open with a paring blade to the curious staring of all. There was a gasp as the elastic skin ripped in two revealing a treasure trove.

Inside of the head were an array of shining items, from coins to to shining gem-studded jewelry to curious metal cylinders.

The head of the town reached over, yanking up the pale creature up for all to see. Despite this, the gathering crowded ever closer, trying to get as close to the corpse, not paying attention as a few of the bits fell from the jolts. They bounced and rolled along the cobbled streets and knocked against building walls with a eerie ringing sound that echoed in the heads of those near.

One such item bumped against Cole's booted foot, glittered enticingly by his toe.

Cole picked up the small, partly translucent bottle. He lifted it up and tried to pear inside, but was unable to see anything. No one around him paid him any mind, so he wandered off back to the house to isolate himself in one of the rooms. "Hmm..." He shook the bottle some to listen inside. There was something in there, and it... cried out in pain? He carefully tilted the bottle to look at the top. It was a simple cork... and he did wonder what was inside.

Maybe it was a little lizard! He had seen the prettiest one yet sunning itself on his windowsill last week. Happily, he opened the bottle, and was smacked in the face by a blue, sparkly blur. The blur flew backwards after crashing into him, hovering in mid air.

"Oh, oh, oh!" came a high-pitched, barely melodic voice. "The air is so clean out here!" The blur, a small, tiny woman about the length of his index finger, spun about in the air, stretching a pair of fluttering blue wings. "I could just cry, I'm so happy!" She stopped, facing the rather baffled Cole. "Dahling! You set me free, didn't you?" She flew up close to his face, nuzzling his chest and giggling. "Oh, how oh how can I repay you! Do you want some money? How about some really nice clothes? Ohhh, what about food! You like food, don't you?"

"I..." He swallowed hard and lifted his hand for her to rest on. "... I..." It took a moment that included a could stutters and a quick shake of his head before he finally smiled, although very weakly. "... you wanna repay me... ?"

"Of course, of course!" She giggled and clapped her hands, teetering from side to side. "What do you want!"

"Well... I..." He frowned. "Can you... well, here's the story..." He took a deep breath and slowly explained his situation (which had worsened slightly in the absence of Al, out of loneliness mostly).

The little woman nodded seriously. "I see, I see... so then, you want to... oh!" She jumped up. "I know just what to do! Hold on tight, cause this might hurt a little!"

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It a month before the strange creature was discovered, and the Ryassophore was ambling down a pressed-dirt road. He would pause at the top of the hills, lean against the high stacked-stone walls that lined the land and peer down across the vast farmland. He should reach the next village by high noon.

If the past villages were anything to go by, he would be welcomed kindly in their fold, and given a night's lodging and good meal. They'd even let him pay off his debt through work, which lightened his heart greatly.

With a wipe of his brow, the man paused in one of the dips in the road and shuffled to sit against a tree that poked out over the fence, shading a portion of the road.

“It gets warm fast here...” he commented to no one in particular, his lips lifted in a weary smile.

"Hey! Mister!"

Al twisted around and jumped at the sight of a face so near his peeking through the tall corn-stalks, twisting to fall to the ground in his suprise and alarm.

The face, which was that of a little red-headed girl, cracked into a wide laughing grin. "You're funny!" The child announced bluntly.

Al returned the laugh weakly as he slowly stood. "Th-thank you... I think." He brushed the dirt from his robes

"So what're you doing here, Mister?" The girl scrambled to get a better foothold on the rockwall, pulling herself half over to stare at the man.

"Well," he began. "I'm here to see someone. Would you happen to know where he is? Can you show me the way?"

"'Course I can!" She finished crawling to the top of the rock before squatting down and extending her arms to be helped down. "I'm Lindy."

"I'm called Al." The man obliged her, setting her down carefully on the travel-path. "Though..." He looked back over the wall. "Where is your father? I shouldn't just take you like this. I'd look like a kidnapper."

Lindy laughed happily. "Oh, it's okay, he knows already!"

Al frowned confusedly. "I'm sorry?"

"About what?"

"No, no, I meant what do you mean by your father already knows?"

Lindy sighed as if it were painfully obvious. "He knows you're here."

"What? You mean he's just over there?" He pointed across the road. At this the girl laughed happily.

"No, silly! He dreamt of it!"

"Dreamt?"

"Yeah! Everyone dreams! That's why he sent me here, so that I could bring you in."

Al went silent before understanding hit him. So this was the town he was seeking then. The village of dreamers, the place of the seers of the future and present. It was here that advisers for this region's kingsman was picked, allowing him foresight in various matters. It was said that even the weakest could see snippets of the future in their sleeping dreams.

It was on these thoughts that he dwelled on as he fell into step behind the girl, absently answering questions from her as they walked into a small, cozy village. Guiding him to a stone-work home with no windows and a thick door, she led him in before exciting and shutting the door behind her.

It wasn't until his eyes adjusted that he saw the person.

Before him, slumped in the middle of the dark, dark room, was a person of indeterminable gender. Raggedly cut silver-blonde hair covered the face and shoulders in layers, shimmering lightly in the candle's light. Thin, bony fingers were just visible from the long flowing white clothing that dressed the figure. This was the seer, then. The person's looks were just as waif-like as the instructions said.

The seer shifted some, drawing the fingers into the sleeves. “You are the Ryassophore... I am glad then, that Lindy found you.” It was a light, lilting tenor. This was her father?

The man nodded with a soft smile. “That is me, yes.”

The figure bent over even further, the hair falling to spread out against the floor. “I greet you, Holy man. I hope you have been well.”

The Holy man quickly waved his hands dismissively. “Oh, please, there's no need to be so formal to someone as lowly as me. I'm a simple wanderer with nothing to be superior about.” Al would have moved to tilt the man's head up, but decided against it. Who knew what sort of taboos that might cause.

“Even so...” The seer-man did lift his face to peer up at Al. His face was caked with white make-up, light gold dusting his eyes and dark red lips and eyebrows neatly penciled in. Even covered obscenely as he was, it was obvious that the seer-man held great fragile beauty. "What have you heard of the world outside? I never leave, so I only know what I dream. Is the war still going on in the South?"

For over a decade, the southern country had been enveloped in a terrible war against the Great Schema in the Holy capitol. Both sides upheld that the other was at fault, citing several instances of cruelty and mass homicide.

Al nodded his head. "It is... Many have died, and many are hunting for revenge on those who have begun it."

"And so it will continue until it ends..."

The Ryassophore jerked his head up, confused. "I'm sorry?"

The seer shook his head lightly, his hair waving like pale gold strands. “No, nevermind. You have come for something. What would you like for me to tell you, Holy man?”

“To be truthful--”

“It is best to be so, especially in your line of duty.”

Al laughed weakly. “Yes, it is indeed so...”

“I have come to ask you of any messages.”

His brow raised, crinkling the black strokes. “From whom?”

Al paused silently for a moment before looking down at the floor. “Well, I... I must say that...”

The seer-man raised a hand, letting the Holy man's words travel into silence. “From your kin, I have dreamt nothing. Nothing good, but nothing bad as well.”

“I suppose that is good then...”

“As it could be bad, by the same turn.”

Al lowered himself even more. "However, that is not the people from who I hoped for a message."

There was a long moment of stilted silence before the seer-man's eyes widened a fraction and he nodded. "I understand then... In that case, I do have a message from your god. It is a message that will tell you of how you should continue your path of devotion and loyalty."

Memorizing what he had been told, the Ryassophore gathered his things and left the city, prepared for what he was to do in the future, as told to him by the seer of dreams. As he left the village of dreamers behind him, Al smiled as he began his long trek to his destination.

/from the traveling diary of a wandering Ryassophore/

...to be continued as we please (signed, kris-et-dan)