close to five months | skill

The dreams are nothing new - the strange blue glow on the horizon Reid knows to be a fissure split into the earth based on the dream visitor’s visions. There is an island far larger than any bear wreaking havoc on this world. But Reid is safe, cradled in his Ma’s embrace, guarded by Vidarr’s unshakeable confidence. Safe from the reach of the fissures for now, anyway. The robin is not safe from the Dream Visitor’s influence. The vision envelopes him - hints of terror, grief, exhaustion he’s never had to feel filtering through the dream’s empathetic connection. Reid witnesses gnashing fangs of mutant beasts his own imagination can hardly fathom. His ears prick to catch the abject horror distilled in the Bound One’s screams. Hazel eyes stare at the Visitor’s shadowy features, then fill with scalding tears as Reid realizes he cannot seem to wake up. It’s just a dream. Wake up.

It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream. When he wakes, Ma will sing a lullaby and kiss his tears away. He just has to wake up.

Portals split the air before the boy, radiating with power he can feel in his marrow. Reid hesitates, then throws himself at the First Door - it seems the least like a continued night terror, and most like an escape.

The storm is all-encompassing. The flecks of snow within the winter maelstrom are the only faint echo of his mother’s pale coat. She is nowhere to be found, and the only warmth Reid finds are the tears soaking the fur of his cheeks. MA!, then, VIDARR! but no answer came through the wail of the wind, of Mythris itself. The magic of Mythris soothes his trembling, shields him from the worst of the storm. Reid tilts his nose to the blackened sky.

The robin sings for spring. For the warmth of a mother. For the safety of a father. For the future he’d fought so hard already to see.