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IABD 14: The Realm in Dream
🕑 Added 2025-02-28 18:54:21 +0000 UTCBy the time Matthias Stonebreaker emerged from the forest, the sun had crested the western mountains; dawn’s light shone on his brother’s tower as he approached the door, drawing the attention of the night watch.
“Who goes—” One mumbled, pausing as his gaze fell on the towering greatfolk. “Oh.”
“I need to see my brother.” Matthias kept his voice low.
The man flinched. “You’re back so soon, Lady Dagma arrived a few minutes ago,” he reported, quickly unlocking the door.
“Good. I wanted to see them both. Have a good morning.”
He glided past the guard, vanishing into the stairwell.
As the door closed behind him, one guard whispered to the other: “He seem different to you?”
“Yeah, I guess. Can’t say quite how, though.”
The bolt clicked. Matthias smiled.
He felt incredible: every sense was enhanced, his movements much smoother. Climbing the stairs, he was hardly making a sound to his sharpened hearing. It was like he’d been reborn.
“Hello?” Bregindoure called from his cell. “I heard the door open, is that you, Matthie?”
“Matthie?” Dagma called, her feet rapidly pattering toward the top of the stairs. “Matthie?”
Matthias grinned, then rushed up the stairs—wind blurring past his ears—appearing in front of his sister so quickly, she yelped, jumping back in surprise.
“Hey, guess who lived?” He pointed at himself. “This handsome devil over here.”
Bregindoure gripped the bars of his cell, mouth hanging open.
Dagma stared up at Matthias with wide eyes.
Then she leapt at him. “You did it! You did it! You did it!”
Laughing, Matthias caught her, picking her up and spinning with her held high above his head. She felt as light as feathers. “I did do it! I did! But shhhhh!”
He glanced down the stairs.
She went quiet, but couldn’t stop smiling. “You did it…you actually did it.”
“You came back to us alive.” Bregindoure added, his voice low and choked with emotion. “You kept your promise.”
“I’m not in the habit of breaking promises.” Dropping Dagma so she was now seated—perched on his arm with her legs dangling—Matthias strode to their brother, clasping his hand between the bars.
“Your story begins today,” Bregindoure smiled. “At last.”
“No, our story begins today.” Matthias shook his head. “I’ll build my power so I can take care of all of us.”
“I’m happy for you, little brother, truly. But I should be the one taking care of both of you. Anyway, there’s one more trial ahead of you,” Bregindoure warned.
“Kari, Petric and Siegfried?” Matthias grinned viciously.
“No, telling mother.”
Matthias went quiet, grin vanishing. “W-well, you know what they say. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission. She’ll forgive me.”
“And if she doesn’t?” Dagma asked.
“I can run very, very fast now.”
The Stonebreaker siblings burst out laughing.
Relief tinged their cheer.
###
“You’re in a good mood today, boy.” Adgar, the stonemason, peered at his apprentice from across the scaffolding.
It was shortly before lunch on the day Matthias had Awakened.
“Got a good night’s sleep.” The young greatfolk tried to keep his face straight as he chiseled a gargoyle on the temple of Amon Koth. “I had a really good morning too.”
“Don’t see how,” Adgar grumbled, his bearded face looking up at the sky. “That storm was something else. You see those lightning strikes?”
“I might have.” Matthias hummed as he chiseled the gargoyle.
Adgar nodded, then looked at the boy’s work. “Say, have you been practising?”
“A little.” Matthias continued sculpting.
“Well, keep it up: your details have improved. If you survive your patrol duty, you’ll make a good stonemason, boy.” Adgar nodded, looking back at his own work.
Matthias hid a smile. “I just might.”
###
“You seem different today.” Sur Friya crossed her arms, standing below the window of the sparring chamber, eyebrow raised and lips pursed.
“Had a great night’s sleep.” Matthias flourished with both mace and warhammer, raising them into a high guard. He imagined a specific opponent standing in front of him.
His thrust skewered an imaginary heart.
The young man had already gone through drills with the spear, sword and shield, two-handed axe, sword and dagger and—his personal favourite combinations—sword and mace, and sword and warhammer.
His weapons were light in his grip, forms and stances came to him easily and his body felt feather-light. The whooshing sounds the weapons made as they cut through the air were like trees falling. His feet slid across the stones; his balance had never been better.
“A great night’s sleep…” Sur Friya repeated. “Through that storm? You were up even before I was, and I need a lot less sleep than most. You must have been to bed rather early.”
“That I was.” Matthias slashed his sword while whipping his mace through the air.
Sur Friya squinted out the window. “Well, it did you well: I’ve been worried about you. You’ve always had a skill with arms, so you should keep it up. Even if you’re incompatible with Life Enforcement, you could still become a vicious warrior one day. You have a talent for it.”
“Thank you, knight.” Matthias lowered his head.
A part of him wanted to tell her: Sur Friya had believed in him when most had given up. The knight had his back through dark years…but he wanted his mother to be the next one to know.
“Keep training, Matthias,” Sur Friya added.
“I will and I’ll survive the Wolfwood,” Matthias promised.
“Yes…the Wolfwood.” Her eyes drifted to the south. “With any hope, it’s the only thing you’ll have to face.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. “Oh, are you talking about the elves? The Artenesian Empire?”
“Mmmm, there are more threats in the world than the Wolfwood. People forget that, misguidedly believing in thin alliances.” Her eyes grew distant. “Anyway, keep it up and you might show Kari a thing or two someday.”
“Oh, I might. I just might.”
###
“Again! Again!” Dagma clapped from a stump in the middle of the forest far from prying eyes.
“Hold on.” Matthias threw down his wooden sword and cudgel, taking a moment to stretch. Sweat and rain drenched his towering form. “Let me catch my breath.”
It was early evening on the day Matthias had Awakened, a time when—on most days—he would be at Altaizar’s tower.
Instead, he was getting used to his body. He had started testing it by going through the same drills he had practised with Sur Friya. With growing speed, he went through his forms, stances and guards, focusing on their every aspect—his senses and mind seeing the flaws in his style—then practising the drills at speed, pushing his stamina.
Only when his weapons were shaking in his hands did he stop.
But, already, he could feel his energy recovering.
“Alright, time to check the tendril,” he said.
Dagma leaned forward in anticipation.
For the first time since he’d Awakened, Matthias conjured his shadow tendril. The tentacle of darkness rose from his shadow—materializing faster than before—bleeding dark mist as it writhed.
He gaped up at it. “Someone’s been eating their meat.”
The tentacle was now half-again as long as he was tall—much larger than before—and he could feel newfound strength flowing through it. With it, he reached over, picking up a thick log. There was no way it would have been strong enough to lift such a weighty object before.
But now…
It strained as the heavy log rose from the ground.
“Hey, hey you see this?” He pointed.
Dagma looked at the log. “Uhuh?”
“What do you mean ‘uhuh’? Look at it!” Matthias gestured wildly. “I mean, it’s…oh. You never saw what the tendril could do before, did you? Well, it’s stronger now.”
“Ooooh, I see. Well, that’s good.”
“Not much of a reaction,” he said glumly.
“No, I mean it’s really—”
“Never mind, the moment’s passed.”
“No, I think it’s really—”
“The moment’s passed, Dagma!” he cried in false agony, putting down the log.
She rolled her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Anyway, are you going to use it when you face those three idiots?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Divine Breath is forbidden by the gods, but tolerated by our laws. But this shadow-tendril? That’s a different thing. People might think it’s some kind of old magic witchcraft that I’m using. I wouldn’t want to risk it. But if there’s a way to subtly use it…” Matthias thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Never mind, I’ll think about it later. But for now—”
The shadow-tendril picked up his wooden sword.
He took his cudgel in hand.
“—let’s try something new.”
The young man fell into a fighting stance as the tendril gripped his sword in front of him. With a growl, he swung the cudgel at the tendril. At the same time, he parried his own blow against the sword in the tentacle’s grip.
“Woooo!” Dagma called, getting up and drawing her own wooden blade.
Matthias focused on the feeling of weapon on weapon, striking at his body with the wooden sword, defending with the cudgel. Back and forth, it continued, filling the forest with the clack of wood on wood for many minutes.
This practice felt more than a little strange.
It was like fighting himself, one arm battling the other.
Yet, it felt incredible.
Had it felt the same way for people who practised Life Enforcement or Divine Breath? He turned to ask Dagma, only to find her doubled over with her hands on her knees and her wooden sword at her feet.
A large stick lay on the ground in front of her.
“What’s wrong?” He quickly ran to her. “Are you alright?”
She wheezed. “I told…that stick to fight me…like you were doing…fighting yourself with the tentacle…it worked for a while. But then I got really tired.” She plopped down on the stump. “I want to try it again later, though. It was fun.”
Matthias smiled. “I see my sister, the brave mage knight, is getting stronger with me. I can’t wait to see how powerful we become.”
“I just need to get it so I can do that trick longer.” She glared down at the stick. “Otherwise, you’re going to be able to train longer than me. I can’t let you get ahead of me!”
“Oh, you just might have a little bit of trouble training as long as I can.”
“Maybe for now, but I’ll catch up!” She crossed her arms.
He thought about The Realm in Dream.
“Maybe…” He smiled. “But maybe not.”
###
Matthias went to bed on the night he had Awakened to Divine Breath, and once again, dreamed of mist and shadow.
But this time it was different.
This time he found himself standing in a world shrouded in thick, grey fog; with clouds of mist swirling all around and solid vapour laying beneath his feet. There was light, but no sun or moon, and the illumination only reached about a hundred paces before everything dimmed into shadow.
The only sounds to be heard were the beating of his heart and the sound of his breathing.
There were no scents in the air, and it was neither hot nor cold.
Something about the world around him felt alive—an extension of himself, much like the shadow-tendril—and under his control.
“Is this The Realm in Dream?” he asked, looking around. “This is legendary, but it doesn’t really answer why I’ve been having the same dreams about mist since I went off that cliff—”
As soon as the words ‘that cliff’ left his mouth, he thought about the place where he’d nearly died…
…then screamed as the mist suddenly swirled around him, forming shapes.
Fog rose, creating a towering grey curtain. Mist congealed into constructs of green and brown. Vapour hardened, turning to dark, wet earth.
“What in the—Ah!” he startled.
Rain began, pouring down as the scent of pine and blood reached his nostrils.
“What in all the names of the Ascended?” he finished his thought, looking around again.
The towering grey curtain had become a cliff face, while the green and brown constructs were now fallen trees. Above, the fog had turned to rain clouds just as the mist below was now solid earth.
He knew where he was. “I’m…I’m at the bottom of the cliff. But, something’s off.”
He heard neither sounds of insects or birds, nor did the brush and grasses crowd the undergrowth. Living trees were nowhere to be seen, only rotted logs, dried wood, and the occasional dead trunk rose from the rocky desolation there.
“I’m the only living thing here,” he murmured. “Is that a limitation of The Realm in Dream? It copied the cliff perfectly, but it didn’t copy anything living. Maybe if I try something different—”
He concentrated, thinking of Blood’s Drop.
In a heartbeat, the cliff disappeared, replaced by the familiar rust-coloured falls where he’d learned soul breathing.
“This is incredible.” He looked around, taking in the red river, the rocks, the empty riverbanks and the sky roiling with mist and shadow.
He tried thinking of other places he’d visited, starting with the village of Barrowgate.
Buildings swirled out of nothingness, recreating the village square.
“Wow…” Matthias murmured, walking up to a nearby house.
He opened the door.
Nothingness swirled inside: a void filled with shadow and mist.
The young man frowned before realisation struck him. “This dream realm can’t replicate living things, and it can’t conjure any place I’ve never been before, I don’t think. I’ve never been in this house, so there’s nothing inside…no wait. Not…quite nothing.”
In the darkness, something whispered.
He couldn’t decipher a single word in the muffled sounds coming from the void, but they made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Matthias remembered well the warning at the end of The Realm in Dream’s description:
Be careful where and how far you wander.
Matthias quickly closed the door.
There might come a time when he would test exactly what that warning meant.
But tonight was not the night.
Instead, he refocused.
The village of Barrowgate disappeared around him, replaced by the interior of Eklund’s fighting pit in his courtyard.
“Here,” he said. “This is the place I’ll likely fight them, so this is where I should practise. But I’ll need a weapon and my armour—”
Without finishing the thought, mist and shadow swirled around his hand: it was suddenly gripping his blunted sword. Mist congealed around his body, sheathing it in his armour.
“Oh!” he cried. “I can conjure things! Wait a minute, I wonder…”
He concentrated, holding out his other hand, thinking of his mother’s magical sword, Tallis.
It did not come to him.
“Huh, it seems I can’t summon things I don’t own,” he reasoned. “Ah well, it was worth a try. Wait, maybe…” He tried conjuring the dagger he’d lost fighting off the gamrung.
Nothing appeared.
“If I lose something, I can’t replicate it. Huh. This is complicated,” Matthias complained. “I don’t make the rules, so I suppose I’ll just have to follow them when I need too and break them when I can. Speaking of breaking things.”
He conjured his mace.
The tentacle emerged from his shadow as he conjured his wooden sword in its grip.
“Alright.” He cracked his neck. “Let’s get back to work.”
He fell into a fighting stance and took a deep breath.
He and the shadow-tendril swung at each other.
For hours, Matthias battled his shadow-tendril in the fighting pit, moving through different forms, trying new tricks, learning more of the weaknesses in his fighting style.
Over the course of practising, he discovered more about The Realm in Dream.
His body could tire in it, but he had no need for food or drink.
He did need to breathe however: something he learned when he tried holding his breath, only for his spiritual body to start shaking with his consciousness rapidly fraying.
After a few seconds of not breathing, he was ejected from The Realm in Dream, awakening gasping for air. His heart pounded, panic flooded through him, he only calmed after several seconds of breathing deeply.
It did not take him long to understand what had happened.
“Breathing is crucial in Divine Breath,’” he whispered as his heartbeat finally settled. “So, it’s important in the dream realm too.”
Shaking himself, he fell back into a pattern of steady breathing—focusing on the Way of Stone—until he fell asleep again.
He soon awoke in the misty realm, on a bed of solid fog.
With a single thought, he conjured the fighting pit once again, then called his weapons back to him.
“Right, keep breathing,” he inhaled deeply. “Let’s go again.”
Matthias continued battling the shadow-tendril through the fighting pit for hour upon hour. It was…wonderful.
There were no interruptions like there would have been during the daytime: no chores to do or responsibilities to take care of, no one needing him for anything, not even his own biological needs to stop him.
All he had to do was breathe and train.
And he enjoyed every second of it.
###
It was the morning after his Awakening when Matthias entered Altaizar’s courtyard, finding the mage not at the top of his tower, but by the front door, peering at the distant sky.
Altaizar did not notice his pupil until he was well into the courtyard.
“Gah, there you are!” The mage startled. “Where did you come from?”
“Home,” Matthias told him dryly. “Are you alright? You look like you just saw a great wolf.”
Altaizar shook his head. “Just lost in thought.” He gave the young greatfolk a keen look. “Someone looks like they’re in a good mood.”
“Just a little, life’s changed for the better, forever.” Matthias stood a little taller. “That’s something that puts a smile on the face.”
“Well…forever is a long time.” Altaizar looked toward the horizon again. “But you’re right, yesterday was a good day. By the way, I sent Lord Bloodweep to bring that message to my mother. The Vale is far, but I told the wind to help speed him along. Even taking into consideration that he’ll need to stop to rest, I doubt it will take him longer than three and a half days to reach it.”
Matthias remembered the maps he’d studied of the continent. The Vale of Magi was over three months away by horse. “And how long will your mother take before she gets here?”
“That remains to be seen,” Altaizar admitted, leading Matthias into the tower. “It will take her time to wrap up her responsibilities, but what you have done will catch her interest. She will be a much better guide to solidifying your foundation, especially considering your unique circumstances.”
Matthias’ heart sank a little. He looked around the foyer as they headed for the stairs. The mage had already begun to pack. “But I enjoyed you teaching me.”
Altaizar paused. “I…enjoyed our time together as well, however, I need to do some research: your transformation has raised too many questions. My mother will take over helping both you and Bregindoure, but I will stay until she arrives. Don’t worry, I would not leave you in the lurch! Anyway, it’s time for your next lesson: life energy circulation.”
They reached Altaizar’s meditation chamber.
“You have Awakened—which removed many of your body and life force’s impurities—but you must continue to purify the energy you’ve taken in,” the mage continued. “That is a very important skill you must learn before it’s time to solidify your foundation.”
“Yeah, you said that it will take years,” Matthias muttered. “I guess since I waited fourteen years to Awaken, I suppose a few more to do all of this properly is worth it.”
“A good attitude. In any case, purifying your energy and circulating it will improve how your body uses Divine Breath.” Altaizar explained. “It will increase your power just a little more if you practise it over the next month and a half. Luckily, it’s simple. So, sit and enter a meditative state.”
Matthias did just that, using the Way of Stone to gain focus.
His body felt incredible.
“Now,” Altaizar continued his explanation, “life energy circulation is very similar to soul breathing, but, instead of breathing Divine Breath in and out of your body, your soul will act like a heart of sorts, pumping the energy through your life force’s channels. If you skip this step, the next time you try to take in more Divine Breath, your channels will be too weak to contain the raw power and will burst. Then, your body will explode.”
“Oh. Alright then.” Matthias winced.
“Yes, so now…imagine your soul as a heart. Imagine your life force passing between your body and soul.” Altaizar’s voice was gentle. “Your energy will flow through them both.”
“Right.” Matthias closed his eyes, following his shadow down to his soul.
He could see it, floating in the void.
‘My energies will flow between my body and soul. I just have to pump it. Like a heart.’
It was a difficult thing to do; he kept unintentionally expanding like he had with soul-breathing. Forcing the soul to contract made it feel slippery, like a bar of butter sliding from his grip.
But he kept going.
Soon, he could see lines of light springing to life around his soul, flowing through his life pathways and up into his body. He felt the energies passing through his tissues as easily as he felt the beat of his own heart.
Still, it proved difficult.
His soul kept slipping from his grip, and the energies flowing through him were stuttering and unsteady.
“This is hard,” Matthias grunted, his consciousness rising out of his soul. “I can’t get it quite right.”
“That’s fine,” Altaizar assured him. “Circulation will take you a long time to master. But, when you do, it should be as automatic as the beating of your own heart. You’ll likely have it smoother by the time your enemies return, you have time to practise. Speaking of your enemies, I also have a bit of a surprise for you. Come, it’s on the floor above this one.”
The mage led a very curious Matthias upstairs, to a floor the young greatfolk had never visited.
Through a locked door—banded in iron—was a large chamber filled with weapon racks. A variety of weaponry hung from the walls; most were plain, but some were ornate, with gems encrusting their hilts and hafts.
However, none held Matthias’ attention.
“What in the names of the Ascended?” he cried.
Three familiar figures stood inside the room: Kari, Siegfried and Petric.
But they were not of flesh and blood.
Three perfect replicas crafted of rust-filled water—held in humanoid shape by the power of The Gift—silently bowed to the mage and the greatfolk with an inhuman smoothness of movement.
“What are they?” Matthias murmured.
“Sparring partners. They are formed of water from the Vein of the Mountain.” Altaizar floated toward them, hands behind his back. “Forced into familiar shapes by my will. Did you know that human beings are mostly made of water?”
“No…” Matthias looked down at his hands. They looked solid to him.
“Well, these humanoids are made of a little more water than most. I’ve commanded them to be your sparring partners: they will be fast, strong and heavy, though they are mindless. Also…”
He gestured to the replicas.
Within their watery forms, rust gathered in their hands then erupted with sickening gurgling sounds. Crude weapons formed of congealed rust extended from their grips.
“…you can have them shape any weapon you wish,” Altaizar said. “Now, they only have enough power to fight for roughly two hours a day. But I think you’ll find them good proxies for your enemies.”
“This is legendary.” Matthias approved. “Thank you, Master Altaizar. They’ll really help me with my training.”
“No problem, Matthias. Enjoy. Now, I think I will step away for a time and let you direct your own training.” Altaizar floated toward the door. “All your life, your training and time has been directed for you. But, yesterday, do you know what you Awakened to?”
“Divine Breath?” Matthias asked.
Altaizar shook his head. “Independence, Matthias.”
He looked at his pupil closely. “You Awakened to independence. One day you will find yourself in a situation where you will have to decide your own path, regardless of what your mother, myself or Sur Friya thinks. Use this time as a training run for that. If you use your time poorly, you could lose the challenge before you. If you use it well, you will be rewarded. Either outcome will be a valuable lesson. Best of luck, oh, and don’t touch any of the fancier weapons. All the plain ones are yours to train with as much as you want.”
“Thank you.” Matthias bowed as Altaizar left.
He turned back to the three replicas and took a deep breath, then walking to the weapon racks, he selected a hammer and a sword before returning to the centre of the room.
The young greatfolk looked at the watery faces of his enemies, resisting the urge to spit.
“This is either going to be very painful or very fun.” He cracked his neck, raising his weapons. “Um…attack?”
He cursed as the three watery humanoids rushed him as one.
###
The first day was the hardest.
By far.
Altaizar hadn’t exaggerated: although mindless, the three water replicas were as swift as falling rain, struck with the force of a waterfall and had the flexibility of a flowing river.
Matthias desperately tried to defend himself against the trio’s attacks, but soon his cursing and growls of pain filled the training room. He was battered, tripped, bowled over, body slammed and hurled across the chamber hard enough to rattle his bones.
By the end of his sparring session, he’d been reduced to a twitching heap on the stone floor.
That night, Matthias entered The Realm in Dream with a new purpose. He spent eight hours in Eklund’s fighting pit, replaying his battles against the three watery replicas, using his shadow-tendril as a stand-in for them.
He awoke in the morning with his bruises faded, and bursting with energy and new motivation. He wanted to wipe Kari, Siegfried and Petric’s faces from those rusty and watery bastards, and walked into Altaizar’s tower with his head held high.
Once again, he took up his weapons and ordered the constructs to attack him…he was then battered, bruised, tripped, and reduced to a twitching heap on the stone floor.
That night, he split his training in the dream world: four hours were spent playing out his battles from the day, while the other four were spent concentrating on his life energy circulation.
The next morning, Matthias—now thoroughly humbled—had the replicas attack, one at a time. A single water replica was a challenge—it was still a heavy, strong and quick opponent—but one he could spar with, using his full strength without being knocked to the ground by a storm of blows from all sides.
The thing still beat him, badly…but it took longer to do so, giving him time to focus on something other than just surviving the fight.
And so, he began to learn.
The next day he resumed his training: for an hour, he fought the watery replica of one of the three tormenters, then spent the next hour working on life energy circulation. That night, he continued his training in The Realm in Dream.
During the next day and night, he repeated the same pattern.
The next day he did the same.
Followed by the next.
Soon single days became a week.
And one week became two.
And finally, he began to show progress.
He began to follow the flowing movements of the water replicas, parrying their blows and dodging their strikes. His circulation had begun to improve: contracting his soul was growing easier as time passed, and the flow of energy through his body stammered less during practise.
Encouraged, Matthias pushed himself harder.
And so, two weeks became four.
After sparring day after day, he was able to match one of the water replicas with ease. He was growing used to his body’s power: no longer would he inadvertently overcompensate with his new strength and speed, and send himself sprawling, or overbalancing while trying to defend.
He had also begun to learn how the water replicas fought.
While they were indeed water, their shape was humanoid, leaving them only a limited number of ways to attack and defend. Since they were mindless, they were also predictable, despite their speed and force of their blows.
By the fifth week, Matthias could fight two of the replicas at once, fending off their flurry of attacks while holding a weapon in each hand. He was faster too, his mind now used to both the speed of his opponents and that of his own body.
His reactions had been sharpened and the power in his blows had grown.
Then there was the shadow-tendril.
Though he would not use it openly in his challenge against his tormentors, he’d begun to wield it in his battles with the water replicas. The tendril would grab and trip his watery opponents or strike, using its own weapons. As he learned how to circulate his life energies, his body and the tentacle’s movements grew even smoother.
By the beginning of the sixth week, he was able to—just barely—hold his own against all three water replicas at once, using the tendril to guard his blind spots. By no means was he able to defeat the three opponents all together—his dream of wiping away their watery faces was still beyond his grasp—but he could hold his own.
It was a far cry from being reduced to a twitching heap.
His life energy circulation had advanced too: he could perform three perfect contractions before losing control, and he already felt the Divine Breath more settled in his body and soul.
He was stronger. He was faster.
He was ready.
At last, the week ended.
And the day came.
The day that Kari, Petric and Siegfried would return to Barrowgate.
Matthias Stonebreaker was ready.
His tormentors, though?
He doubted they would be.
###
Author's Note
Fun fact I spent WAY too much time calculating bat flight distances over time this chapter, while accounting for magical wind enhancement lmao.
Comments
Lon
This was fun, nice that he can just be training in his dream from now on. But I think there is more to the Dream Realm that we aren't seeing or don't know. We will learn it in time though, together with Matt.
Crem Y
Going back to this chapter Im looking at the remarks made about the elves and them as threat. Gives some context about some current events going on in the later chapter right now.
Goatgirl
But did you take into account that it was a LADEN bat and not an unladen swal- i mean bat.
mant06
Should circulation be used by someone not practicing divine breath it could someone lacking the affinity for life enforcement to gain similar(if smaller) benefits and to interact with anothers lifeforce? I.E if the author ever decides to add a more classical wuxia like system this would be a possibility, or even a Dune like system as lifeforce carries/reflects desires possibly emotions and could be used as a basis for a form of telepathy.
Trevor Mergen
Thanks!
