OOC: Dream
First there was a blinding light. His vision was completely whited out, slowly ebbing to reveal the barren landscape about him. A small hand tried to block the beams as they grew more harsh and oppressive, like long sharp fingers were picking at his retinas. The fight or flight instinct immediately kicked in and he ran.
He scrambled to his feet and ran from the light that grew heavier and hot, bare skin padding against the hard, broken ground. He passed old, gnarled trees, barely taking in his surroundings. Finally the light began to recede and he could breathe a sigh of relief. His steps began to slow down to a comfortable stroll. He tried to catch his breath, small hand to his chest, clutching the worn fabric, but he paused when something caught his attention.
A girl, small and worn as he was. She was sitting on the ground, strawberry blonde hair dirty and mussed, turning her head slowly to look over her shoulder. The girl held a hand out like she was expecting something. He stared for a long moment, before slowly reaching out to take her hand. But the arm he stretched out caused her to reel back.
Blood dripped between his fingers, but it was not his own. It was like he dunked a hand in a pool, letting the life of someone else fall from his hand. The girl looked terrified, then sad. He shook his head, but was strangely unperturbed. In fact, there was a sense of calm looking at the red liquid. Without a second thought, he turned around and walked away, the cries and calls of the girl dying off.
Soon the wasteland began to grow greener and richer with clean air and life. People appeared around them, but he knew they weren't important. Black robes and faceless heads, a dull murmur passing between them through unseen lips. He ignored everything, letting his hand drop to his side. A trail of blood dripping like a path from where he walked, still falling from his hand. His own robes turned black, and he passed through the clouds with a silent calm.
He was smiling, through he wasn't sure why. It wasn't a smile from happiness or mirth, but a sense of understanding that was far beyond his age. With each step the temperature grew colder, and he felt his expression set like a mask. He cared but he didn't, letting the world around him move more quickly. The crowd of people peeled back, to reveal a single figure standing before him.
"Come."
That single word, spoken in a deep baritone, soothing but he knew there was nothing comfortable about the situation, though he was entirely comfortable with it. Without any hesitation, he took a step, making his way toward the man. He felt himself stretch upwards, his frame expanding and gaining height. He grew up in a matter of seconds that felt like an eternity at the same time.
When he reached the man, his smile stretched. The blood had stopped dripping from his hand, now caked on in a permanent stain that he would never forget. The man smiled in return, at first stop, before it turned into a smirk. He turned around, back to the man to look at the faceless masses he left behind.
Words were hissed like a snake in his ear, but they were garbled. He felt scales and a winding body around his neck, but it was unthreatening, and somewhere deep inside his being, he knew that was how it was meant to be. The man behind him spoke once more, and the world changed.
They were dressed in white in a gray, gray landscape. It was lonely, but fitting. Gone was the harsh light that had shone in the girl's soft, dirty hair, replaced instead with the dull light from a dead moon that appeared more as an ornament than anything practical. It was lonely, yes...
...but it was how it was supposed to be.