Wordcount: 489 words
Summary: Please note, this is currently a very rough draft. There will be spelling and grammatical errors afoot as well as flat out bad writing, info dumps, plot holes, flat out contradictions, and uneven characterization and pacing. (Content is also subject to constant change as I take an editing chainsaw to the story.)
Baron dreamed he was flying over the ocean and when that realization sunk in he panicked, trying to rise far enough above the waves to be safe from the spray.
“I like the sea.” Said a voice from beside him and he looked down to see a massive serpent gliding through the waves. “It’s cool and deep and there’s so much to eat.” The fires that ran along its scales hissed and spat against the sea water. It ducked its head and came up with a massive shark that it swallowed in a convulsive bite.
“If my wings get wet, I’ll die!” protested Baron, struggling to stay aloft.
“You won’t,” said the snake, “this is a dream, no one dies in dreams.” It dipped its head and caught another shark.
“Who are you?” Baron asked, far enough above the imaginary waves to calm his fear. “Why are you in my dream?”
“This is my dream,” the snake said, amused. “I have dreamed you and you are here.”
“But who are you?”
“I am hungry,” it said and its head arced out of the water to come even with him. “I am that which consumes, the fire and the void, the endless thirst, who are you, little thing, and why have I dreamt you?”
“We need help.” Said Baron, summoning what was left of his courage. “I broke the future and we need to fix it.”
The snake laughed, “You can’t break the future strange little dream.”
“But I can’t see it anymore,” Baron objected, “I saved her and now I can’t see anything.”
The snake paused in its swim and Baron circled it, unsure.
“I need to get our future back.” He pleaded.
“I can’t do that,” the snake said after a pause, “It’s not something you were meant to have. But you are a strange little dream and I am fond of things that fly.”
Baron circled, waiting, and the sea slowly faded away, leaving him floating in the dark. Alone.
“I thought you would help me!” Baron cried angrily into the dark. “You were supposed to help me!”
“I don’t listen to the dictates of dreams,” said the snake and he turned to find it curled up behind him, massive wings of fire now cupped around it. The heat from the fire flared up and Baron shrank back.
“But you have to!” He protested.
“’Have to’ little dream?” it snarled, “I take, I don’t give.”
“Then take something!” Baron snapped, “I don’t care, I just want her to live.”
There was a very long pause.
“This is a dream,” the snake said softly, “and things said in dreams aren’t always meant when you wake up again.”
The view shifted and Baron found himself standing on the ground looking up up up into the burning eyes of the snake. Up into the endless hunger and he was suddenly, terrifyingly, afraid.
And everything was lost to the flames.