The fire priest wasn’t in his quarters, and she knew he was delving into something mysterious so she went back to the palace. Blood trickled down her midriff and she seen the wound wasn’t enough to seek out a healer, besides the Emperor was near enough if she needed healing, and so was laeral.
She drew a warm bath and watched the blood swirl in red circles until it washed away and she rested back in the water. She wished the mysterious bystander took credit due to them. No one knew she even called upon the mysterious one for help, she was surely resting once again, and that made the Sylvan smile and relax in the warm water. There was almost an obsession to the bystander a link of some sort, for she was the only one that really knew Tehya inside and out. She fantasized about having some link, and that fantasy lulled her to drift off into a dream while soaking in the tub.
Her secret would be kept well and she would only tell the Emperor that she called her for help. It was that way because if they knew every little battle or instance that came up they would be seeking out the mysterious bystander. That couldn’t happen, even the Sylvan knew this. But she was proud of the Empire’s people they fought with all their might and cause.
The bubbles in the bath eased her pain and now that it was over her work could restart. Dreams were wonderful things, but she was warned by the dragon of dreams one must have nightmares if they were to also dream…so hers began. The curse of S`otanath riddled the bard’s mind as sleep took her to not such a safe place.
A wild storm was beginning in her dream and a vision of someone in the distance. The palace block by block was being misplaced and built on blackened grounds where minions surrounded it. There was a high webbed gate at least fifty feet high, and she was in her room in the palace. Surrounded by a black web her room became smaller and smaller.
Those lovely ceiling to floor windows disappeared and the room began closing in on her. Her hand gripped the side of the tub in her nightmare, fingers curled around the porcelain edges trying to stay above the water and breathe. It paralyzed her with fear being locked into a building, and she called out several times to anyone that could hear her until her calls for help were high piercing screams that echoed through the halls.
The wild storm stopped and she gasped for breath thinking if there was no storm, there was no fight from the Emperor only doors down from her. She had her own thinking of storms and the Emperor as a link, and the nightmare twisted her full conception of who he was.
That alone sent the Sylvan into a panic thinking she was entirely alone and defenseless. Laughter filled her room and the sound was deafening, making her hands shoot up to those delicate Sylvan ears to block the sound.
Awakened in terror she bolted up from the tub as if she was soaking in fire, and she stood there nude looking down at her body. The usual tan was gone, and she stood stark white in skin tone, a graying wound in her midriff began opening up wider, and what fell out were multiple spiders skittering across the floor growing larger.
She struggled to regain her composure and shook with fear. She called out for help and there was a knock at her door. When she opened it, there was the face of the servant she found following her in the most obscure places, and the door was slammed shut as she leaned against it shaking.