BACKSTORY
The city slept, shrouded in a silence thicker than fog. I didn't always dream. Back then, laughter echoed through the alleys, my makeshift family of urchins chasing shadows and scraps, but the plague changed all that. It stole their light, leaving hollow spaces where their grins used to be. The fever took us all.
But even worse than the fever's chills were the dreams. They came after, vivid and horrifying, reliving the city's demise in excruciating detail. Each night, the same chilling tableau: emaciated faces, grasping hands, and the stench of death clinging to the air. Then, one night, a different darkness descended.
A colossal raven, its obsidian feathers rippling like ink, emerged from the dream's putrid fog. Its eyes, burning embers, pierced into my soul. This wasn't just a nightmare; it was a presence, ancient and powerful. The Raven Queen, they called her, a goddess who danced with death.
Her voice, a low rumble like shifting stones, filled the dreamscape. "You clung to life," it echoed, "when so many succumbed. Your will impresses me, child of shadows."
Terror choked me, but there was something more in her gaze - an unsettling curiosity. She offered a bargain: freedom from the nightmares, power to protect myself from future threats. In return, she would call upon me when she deemed necessary.
I saw the darkness swirling within her offer, yet, what choice did I have? Survival had become a constant negotiation, and the nightmares threatened to pull me under. So, I agreed, sealing the pact with a whispered oath in the suffocating silence of the dream.
Now, I wake each morning, the phantom touch of her power lingering on my skin. The dreams haven't stopped, but they've changed. They are whispers of impending doom, visions of battles yet to be fought. The Raven Queen's price will come due, and I, Dream Thief, child of the plague and servant of shadows, will be her instrument. Whether I become a hero or a harbinger of destruction, only time will tell.
And a Sword