The Watchmen of the Dreamscape

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
The Watchmen of the Dreamscape is a question asked to the viewer about their minds. What if your innocence from birth is guarded by an intangible order of spirits that battle the cynical and antagonistic views of adulthood? What if your pure and untainted view of the world is compromised by the fracturing power of growing up? The earthshaking reality that the gods you made your family out to be are in fact false. The bitter truth of death and sadness and depression washing over your innocent mind like a dark tidal wave of malice. The Watchmen of the Dreamscape serve as guardians of your innocence, and their fight is a losing battle. It's up to you as the reader to decide in the end if your Watchmen are victorious, or if the darker side of humanity and life take hold, and wipe out the last of your childlike sense of wonder and love.

Submitted: June 04, 2019

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Submitted: June 04, 2019

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Steam curled upwards in twirling patterns as he breathed the cold, dry air. He watched as the mist trailed away until it caught in the torrential winds swirling just above the massive pines. The storms were growing stronger and he could feel it. All the Watchmen could feel it; at least those who still remained.
The Dreamscape had grown violent in recent months. Darkness seeped up from the Other Place, and it's corruption brought forth monsters that fed upon the Dreamscape. The power of the Watchmen waned as they fought the monsters, and many perished in their fight. He knew of only a few sparsely settled towers that yet housed Watchmen. His brothers and sisters had died well protecting the Dreamscape, but He wondered if their sacrifice would matter.
His thoughts wandered as the storms raged on, unaware of the snow piling around him and the wind tearing at his clothing. He thought of the Peace Before, and of the unity the Watchmen had forged with the Unwelcome. Of course back then they went by a different name, the Newcomers. The Watchmen had hoped for lasting peace with the Newcomers, but the peace was short-lived. Soon the Newcomers began rebelling and abusing the Dreamscape. They would dishonor treaties and pacts forged in sacred bonds simply for the sake of power. The Newcomers sought control of the Dreamscape and fought hard for it.
He shook himself out of the trance and wiped snow from his mask. He could not recall how long he'd stood there, but a good portion of snow had accumulated around him, near up to his thighs. He pushed his way through the snow-caked landscape toward the Tower of Hope, where his brethren had made their home. After the war with the Unwelcome, the Watchmen were depleted and weakened. When the Darkness seeped into the Dreamscape it quickly took over the Citadel of the Watch at the heart of the Watchmen's Order. The surviving Watchmen scattered on the four winds, wandering the Dreamscape in hopes of continuing to tend to their dying world.
He was not content to sit and wait to die, and he would search the Dreamscape every night for signs of other Watchmen, hoping to gather enough brethren to retake the Citadel of the Watch. He wandered for miles in all directions, clambering across rocky foothills and crawling through frozen caves. It broke his heart to see his world in such Darkness. He could recall the days of peace when the Moon shone brightly in the sky and lit the way for the Watchmen. Now only shadow and cold met the hopeful eyes of the brethren.
He returned to the tower with no signs of fellow Watchmen for another night. His eyes raised to the sky in a plea for help. He knew no call would come, but he did so out of habit, remembering when he would speak to the heavens freely. They were always kind to him and told tales of a world outside the Dreamscape. He loved their tales, and now he ached for their company. The solitude of the Winter Unending was maddening even for the Watchmen.
He approached the tower and sensed something wrong. His eyes scanned the rough, cobblestone exterior for any clue to his sense of danger. His hands glided habitually toward his sword, but the sight of a fellow Watchmen approaching erased his fears. He sighed heavily and grasped the brother Watchmen by the arm, glad for his company. They spoke of his trek through the Dreamscape and his search for the other Watchmen. His brother was disheartened to hear that once more, their search was without gain.
Embracing his brother, he returned to the tower, glad to be out of the storms once more. The inside of the tower was similar to the exterior but decorated with the odd torch and painting. The ground was layered with blankets and rugs of all shapes, colors, and sizes. Among the blankets lay the remnants of the Watchmen; a few elder brothers, two young but mature sisters, and the Primus. He carefully removed his boots by the doors before approaching the Primus. The Elder Watchmen was aged beyond anyone's count, and wise even beyond that. He was present at the birth of the Dreamscape, and it was he who had planted the seeds of hope inside of the very tower they huddled within. It was with his very hands that the world they guarded was born. He knew, no matter what would become of himself or the Order, this world would live on. He held onto that spark of hope, he held it with frozen and bloodied hands. He would hold it tightly until his dying day. Perhaps even, he briefly thought, to the very death of the Dreamscape itself.


© Copyright 2020 Sullivan Williams. All rights reserved.

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