A room in the Gormless Inn
By some unspoken rule, nearly all taverns, roadhouses and inns that provide overnight accommodations in Sylvania have identical rooms. The bed is long and narrow, as is the smoked-glass window, and the primary mode of decoration is carved fretwork that often draws the idea to unwelcome visages. It just isn't a proper Sylvanian bed if there isn't a devil or gargoyle leering from the foot or headboard.

It is hard to wake up, and Alptraum feels like weights are pressing down on his body as he first sees the ceiling of the now-familiar room. Limbs tingle, save for his right arm, which has gone entirely numb.

"Nnng," goes Alptraum as his eyes strain open. It takes some time for his vision to clear and focus. "Did someone kidnap me after the Countess and I … ?" he thinks. He tries to slowly lift his head and see what is pressing down on his body if he can. "Maybe I'm chained down," he thinks.

Nothing is physically holding the Eeee down, it just feels that way due to exhaustion and weakness. He does see, however, that his right arm is withered, save for a few pulsing 'veins' just below the now naked skin. At his shoulder, fur turns gray as the numbness spreads.

Alptraum blinks a few times and tries to push himself upright with his left hand so he can get a better look at his right arm, specifically to see if his hand still bears the chitinous plating or not. "Has someone re-cast the infection? Is Melusine getting revenge for … impregnating the Countess" he thinks worriedly, though the weakness and tiredness preventing him from full panic yet…

There's no sign of the chitin, but a bulge is slowly moving upwards from the wrist, throbbing like a heart. The arm doesn't respond at all to commands to move, and feels like dead weight. The skin is even cracking in places, oozing a thin puss-like fluid.

Alptraum hisses softly, thankful he's not feeling pain from this. "Okay, this thing is a spirit infection," he thinks softly as he tiredly tries to tear a strip of fabric from the bed sheet to make a makeshift tourniquet to wrap around his arm near the shoulder to stop the movement of that bulge. "Maybe I can talk to it… "

"Please do not resist," a vaguely familiar voice whispers in Alptraum's head. "If you resist, He will come sooner, and you will not see what you need to see."

"Who are you?" Alptraum thinks softly, swallowing as fear starts creeping deep into his soul, "What are you doing to me?"

"I am the last of Muriavan," the voice whispers, as the chilling numbness spreads across Alptraum's right shoulder now. The pulsing tendrils from the black heart can be seen spreading beneath its skin, as the lump itself advances another few inches up his arm.

Alptraum reaches over to touch the pulsating spot on his arm, feeling it, but not trying to stop it from its work … for now. "You're going to kill me, aren't you?" he thinks, stomach sinking more as the numbness spreads. "Can we make a deal? Please stop and let us … talk for a moment."

"Time is critical," the Shadow explains. "He will come, and we must be done before He does. You must die, and be reborn, so that you can see the past before the memories are gone."

"Who is he?" Alptraum says as he places his hand gently over the pulsating darkness in his arm. Still, he isn't fighting the infection yet. Instead, he scoots back to rest against the headboard.

The numbness spreads further, as the Shadow says, "The Barsunala." Then, with a quick surge, the numbness touches Alptraum's right lung… and his breathing stops!

Alptraum grrrks, trying to once more draw his breath, but unable to. "W… wait," he wheezes weakly fighting for a pointless and brief second, then says, "I … I … I accept you, Muriavan. Take me." And there the Eee grows still, content to simply watch for the remaining time he may have.

It isn't easy. Alptraum's body jerks and spasms, and he can feel the tendrils racing for his heart now, ahead of the numbness. Everything dims, and before complete darkness falls, he hears the far of cry of a monstrous, hunting Eeee.

"So, this is what death feels like… " Alptraum thinks in a moment of odd calm before the tendrils close around his heart. "I wonder what I'll become when Muriavan finishes with my body. I wonder if I will even remember what I once was. I wonder if I will be missed."

---

The forest is unfamiliar. The sky is clear, and the trees are not the giants of Sylvania. There is no feeling of warmth or cold, however. Alptraum's senses are dulled, and even his vision is gray at the edges now. He is propped up against the trunk of a tree, although he barely notices the rough bark. It takes focus just to sense his body at all now, whose only activity is the pumping of his heart… or a heart. Across from him is a small hollow, mostly filled with a dark blob. Its skin contorts and clenches in apparent pain, and ruptures open here and there to release dark vapor.

Alptraum tries to lift his arms, to see what they are and what he may have become … and if he can move at all, really. "Muuurravian," he tries to say, wondering of the blob ahead is the fallen Shadow Dragon, "Whhhat have you done to me?"

It's like moving a wooden marionette… but there is something else. Strength, perhaps. "You must see," comes the voice in his head, rather than from the blob. "This is my death."

Alptraum, or what is left of him, tries to crawl towards the blob. "I c… can help," the former Eeee hisses softly. "Can save you. Have to try."

"The unicorn is dead," calls a new voice. It is feline, and feminine… but lacking in any female warmth. The source is a golden-furred, spotted woman who comes in following a path of flattened undergrowth. She's dressed in Olympian style clothing, and speaking that language (although Alptraum understands her fine – the dead have no language barriers). The jewelry she wears, however, matches those she wore in a previous vision of the past: Amenlichtli. "He cannot hurt you now, Muriavan."

The blob shudders and tries to retreat from the Jaguar woman, and the voice in Alptraum's head replies, "This is memory, but try not to attract her attention."

"Ssstay away from him… " Alptraum thinks, his lips drawing back … only to split and bits of flesh fall away from them. "She is evil. I met her followers once, long ago on the Gigi coast. They tried to kill me."

The woman holds out a familiar golden torc, and says, "I have taken his weapon, see?" The blob shudders more, the flickering from its heart seeming to be red-tinted when it comes near the surface. "Too late," the shadow dragon gurgles. "I cannot recover from a wound to my heart." Pieces of the shadow actually break off and roll away before evaporating, and Amenlichtli picks one of these up. It looks a bit like a black heart, without the tentacles, until it turns to vapor. "I can save you, Muriavan," she claims. "I know the old secret. I only need the blood of a dragon and the proper ritual, unless you can take one's living heart."

"I will die before nightfall," the blob laments. Amenlichtli kneels down and actually caresses the turbulent skin. "I can give you more time, if you will accept me as your mistress," she says. And then holds up the torc. "Or I could use this," she adds coldly.

"Don't trust her," Alptraum thinks in vain as his mind drifts to the beating in his own chest. He draws up his withered hand and places it over the bare and split skin there.

As in the previous vision of the clash between the Shadow and the Light, Amenlichtli turns her head and seems to stare at Alptraum, and there's a moment where it almost feels like she can see him.

"I pledge myself to you," Muriavan says. "This body, down to the last drop of blood and fiber of my being. My soul, tarnished and damaged. Everything I possess."

Alptraum glares right back, rotted jaws clenching tightly. "So much pain you have caused others, for what?" he thinks, fighting the desire to charge her and grab her neck. Tear out that throat. And Muriavan's words cause him pause. He knows that oath; it is similar to the one he made with Muriavan, the undead. The day they fused completely; body and soul.

The woman smiles at Alptraum, and then draws a ceremonial dagger like those used to create the blood spiders. Still looking at the bat, she plunges it into the shadow, and carves her symbol into the flesh. "Accepted," she says. In the distance, a monstrous hunting cry rings out.

"Run," urges the spirit-voice in Alptraum's head, which can be heard over the screams and thrashing of the shadow dragon.

Alptraum tries to push his withered limbs and /run/. No feeling save for the heart beating in his chest, the Eeee somehow urges those stiff limbs to life and the shambling remains of the former Eeee head off quickly into the woods. He feels no pain from the branches that strike at him, or the ones that cut gashes into the old leathery skin of his wings. "Why does the Barsunala hunt me now? Am I not him?" he thinks.

"You are undead," Muriavan's ghost whispers. The woods become darker and closer, like running through a tunnel, but Alptraum's body does not tire. Light flickers ahead, while giant wing beats can be heard far behind. And then the light is right there, and Alptraum runs into a vast underground chamber. A silver dragon lets loose a blast of frost and ice that strikes the steel one in the back, just as it crashes into a sarcophagus next to an Eeee and a Jupani.

The undead Eeee skids to a halt, bits of flesh slothing off from him from cuts sustained while running. "I remember this place. I opened your tomb when we defeated Vorgulremik. You consumed him… You wouldn't consume me. Well, then, anyway. You have now," the zombie thinks as he walks slowly towards the tomb.

"Your time is over," the Eeee says coldly, plunging an invisible blade into the dragon's chest, even as the Shadow eats away at it from behind. "So close," the voice in Alptraum's head laments. "For years, a living dragon heart was just inches away from me. But you broke it before I could claim it." The skeletal, crumbling dragon's laughter fills the chamber now.

"I didn't know what you were," Alptraum admits as he watches the event he remembers so clearly … and remembers what he has learned since, "And for that I am sorry. If I had known, I would have tried to save you then."

"I could not have been saved," Muriavan says. "I did not realize that I was beyond dead. But you have my heart, and seek to repair it for another. You have the blood of a dragon. Find the one who knows the old ways of Necromancy, and maybe… " The thought is interrupted, as the something breaks through the wall of the chamber – something as big as a dragon!

"When we met later, I would have offered you anything as proof of my desire to ally with you. I would have accepted your black heart for the time it would have taken to locate your heart that night, Alptraum admits, only to have his thoughts interrupted by the new arrival. Something instinctive in him tells him it must be the Barsunala hunting him … and the undead Eeee turns and runs the way he came!

A tattered wing flicks out and collapses the exit by dislodging tons of stone. "Traitor!" the demonic Eeee hisses. It's blind eyes are like ice, and it's fur… it's fur is the Sea of Souls!

Alptraum turns and faces the creature. "Traitor? You left me to fend for myself!" Alptraum calls out to the beast. "I shouldn't be undead if you had continued to protect me!"

The Barsunala growls in anger, and lashes out with a talon to pierce Alptraum's chest! Unlike when Melusine did it, however, Alptraum's black heart is still impaled on it when it withdraws. "Die," the Wraith says.

Alptraum grrks once more and grabs onto the withdrawing hand with what little strength may remain. "You and I are connected," he hisses weakly, "We are the reflection of each other. I am the compassion to your hatred.

"You are only a shell," the Wraith claims, and flicks Alptraum away. He lands on his back, and feels like he's being crushed, until he takes in a deep breath and…

"I am stronger than you," Alptraum hisses in a gasp of finality.

… jerks awake. It's still night through the stained glassed windows of the suite. The mattress he rests on is torn and tattered, along with the sheets… but that isn't from the dream, but from before. Rosalind mutters something in her sleep, sounding like, "Mmm… strong… " before burying her face back against Alptraum's chest.

Alptraum takes in several deep breathes and lifts his right hand to look at it. "Do I really think myself a traitor for bonding with Muriavan?" he wonders tiredly.

For a moment, he can actually feel his breath washing across the chitinous armor, but it quickly fades back into the semi-numbness it usually has.

Alptraum lifts up his left hand and carefully feels over the chitin, curious as to why for a moment the could feel his breath upon it.

There's a slight sense of being touched, but it fades away quickly. It's as if, for a moment, he really was fully linked to the shadow gauntlet, but the link is being suppressed again now.

Alptraum turns his hand over to the spot and scar where he cut the black heart from his hand. He watches that spot intently, then tries to push the link back to the gauntlet briefly if he can.

There is definitely some kind of resistance, but the ghost of the sensation of having the black heart does return to the hand.

Alptraum feels the spot where it was for any movement, even the slightest throbbing.

Aside from the memory of throbbing, there isn't any actual throbbing. His concentration is momentarily broken as Rosalind's hand flops onto his nose and plays with his lips.

Alptraum playfully nips at her fingers, momentarily distracted. He's also reminded that the pair have probably been copulating for half a day … so takes a moment to check how much pain he's in down below.

Well, something is throbbing still. The potion hasn't worn off, so much as the pair wore out first.

Alptraum ponders if he has enough endurance after the nap to restart their… Well, maybe in a few minutes. Instead of trying to force to the shadow, Alptraum tries to find the link to the Barsunala and draw it closer to the surface, to where he starts to see through its eyes.

Things take on the familiar silvery tinge, bringing the room into focus. This close, he can see tiny rivulets of energy flowing through Rosalind now. And even what might be a tiny focus deep in her abdomen.

Alptraum reaches down and lightly touches her abdomen, trying to nudge it as if it would help him see better. "Are you pregnant?" he wonders, feeling an odd tightening in his own stomach at the thought.

There's no response – or none Alptraum can pick up – from the little nexus, but Rosalind makes a gassy sound, and blinks awake. "Hmmmwah?"

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Alptraum says quietly and draws his hand away. Before easing the Barsunala back under his skin, he dares take a look at the underside of his right hand.

The palm is dark. Darker than the rest of the right forearm, which still shows traces of silver. "Oooo, I had the strangest dreams," Rosalind says, letting go of Alptraum's face with her hand… only to move it down lower and grab something else. "Hmmm… we can sleep in late, so… ?" she says, with a coy smile on her face. The glow from her eyes seems to light up her whole face.

Alptraum tenses up at her touch and he grins. "I had strange dreams too," he admits and puts the wraith to rest, "Mine was just a mix of scary memories. What were yours?" His own chitinous hand disappears to lightly grab the Countess someplace sensitive.

"Hmm, well… there was Inala… I think… and she said something… but I can't remember now," Rose says, and starts nibbling on Alptraum's throat.

The Countess squirms at the touch, and says, "Well, maybe this is still a dream? We should find out by seeing it through."

Alptraum does something evil when Rose nibbles against his neck. The bat extends some of his shadow into a very sensitive place for a few seconds. "Maybe we should," Alptraum agrees with a playful rumble.

"Eeep!" Rose squeaks, nearly breaking the skin on Alptraum's neck. "I hope Ravenia forgives us for destroying the bed!" she notes, before kissing Alptraum's nose.

"It was for a worthy cause," Alptraum claims, hissing softly at the pricks on his neck, "She cannot be mad about that." Grinning and looking her in the eyes, he tells the woman, "One of these days I'm going to get you to actually bite me, you know." The Eeee then tries to push Rosalind back onto the bed and straddle her.

"Ooo… well, be careful what you wish for," the woman says, grabbing at Alptraum's upper arms. "I am getting a bit hungry… "

Alptraum lowers himself down, going nose to nose with her, grinning. He then rolls his head to the side and presents his neck and shoulder to her. "Go ahead, you'll need the energy for what I'm about to do… We're not going to lose out on any of the effects of this potion after all… " he murmurs playfully.

With a short laugh, Rosalind takes the offer. She bites into Alptraum's neck, and licks and sucks at the wound in as gentle – and sensual – a manner as a mature Eeee woman knows how.

"Mmrgh," goes Alptraum as he winces in pain briefly, then settles into enjoying the rather bizarre sensation. "So, that is what it's like. I could get used to it," he murmurs. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes… " he adds in a short hiss. And while Rosalind drinks slowly from the wounds, Alptraum shifts gently, becoming one with the woman he loves. "Maybe we should extend our stay another day," he murmurs playfully as instincts take over, "Just … blame it on having to train your consort properly… "