The Dreamtime-After Torvaag's Departure
The worst part was the screaming.
Across the entire expanse of the Dreamtime, things broiled and melted. Metal shards exploded from the ground, tearing The Weaver's home asunder. Chains grasped dream-bubbles, turning them a hungry, dark red, darker even than Reavew-na's eye. Dreamwalkers who tried to interfere were encircled by the rusting metal, and dragged away into the darkness, screaming.
Everywhere, the screaming.
The Weaver clutched his head in pain, desperately trying to reach Castle Rhudfir. The ground before him split apart, as the horrible dreams being inflicted on the whole of the Disk threatened to tear the Dreamtime in twaine. The Weaver grasped the very ground, and extended fibers and threads outward, attempting to draw the Dreamtime back together-at least, enough for him to reach the Damwain.
But, the screaming burned in his mind. All across his body, rashes and burns boiled up upon The Weaver. He screamed, finally, surrendering to the pain and torture of his world.
And finally, The Weaver receeded.
Reavew-na came forward.
"ENOUGH."
Threads of blackest night shot outward, lifting Reavew-na into the shimmering air. Twisting, shifting shadows flew outward, enveloping the dream-bubbles, shearing away the chains and breaking down the sheets of rusted metal. The power of nightmare struck down the invasion of the Dreamtime, and the Disk knew dreamless, deep sleep.
As the last chain was slipping back beneath the unstable ground of the Dreamtime, three jet black threads grabbed it, and held it fast. Reavew-na flew down, and ran his hand across the rusting chain. "I do not know from whence you came. But intrude upon my world again, and next time, you will never escape. I will rip you from whatever dark and fetid hole you live in, and bind you with your own chains into the deepest, most horrid nightmare which exists. So says Reavew-na the Nightmare King. You have been warned." And with that, he let the chain go, and it disappeared into the inky black-red, bearing the Nightmare King's dread message.
Reavew-na then turned his attention back to his realm. He placed his hand upon the ground, and purple and gold threads began reaching back through the ground of the Dreamtime. The ground began to draw itself back together, weaving to and fro as it knitted back together. The Weaver opened his eyes, and sighed, falling down onto the ground. "I need a vacation."
The Weaver felt a small pull, back to the land of the waking. Haramhold wished to speak with him. A small smile crossed his face. "It's been awhile since I've seen Haramhold. The dreams of his people are exceedingly interesting. I think a trip is in order. Syniedig!" The massive beast trundled from out of the distance. "Syniedig, would you mind coming with me on a journey? I'd like to visit one of my siblings on the Disk. Normally I'd just pop in through a dream, but with the recent mess, I'd feel more comfortable with you along." "OF COURSE CREATOR." The Weaver hopped onto Syniedig's back, and rubbed the great beast's head. As Syniedig ran towards a point in the Dreamtime where it would be easy to travel to Salus, The Weaver began to think. Syniedig called him "Creator". The Weaver had always reserved that title for his father. Was the world really changing that much, that Baz'Auran's children were replacing him? What had become of his father? And would they ever see him again?