Chapter 3
The Warlock's Web
The dreamscape fractures. Celeste finds herself in a familiar, yet unsettlingly altered, version of her waking room. Her father, the Warlock, stands before her, his face a mask of stern affection. He reveals the truth: the man in her dreams is real, a dream walker like herself, bound to her by an ancient pact or perhaps destiny. But their connection is a cage. They are both his captives, ensnared by his potent magic, their minds lulled into a state of controlled semi-awareness. He feeds Celeste fragmented visions, carefully curated to sow doubt and fear about the man, while simultaneously weaving a seductive illusion of his own benevolent control. The man, too, is trapped, his dream-self a malleable manifestation of his will, but his waking existence is equally bound. Their shared reality is a prison, meticulously constructed by her father.
The dreamscape fractured, not with the violent shattering of glass, but with a sickening lurch, like a ship caught in a rogue wave. Celeste found herself standing not in the ethereal meadow of her last encounter, but in a room achingly familiar, yet unsettlingly altered. It was her waking room, or a disquieting echo of it. The heavy velvet drapes, usually a deep midnight blue, were now the colour of bruised plums.