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10.3.2017 - A mysterious light filled the Sea of Skies. Those who wielded great power and abilities found themselves back at square one, as if reset.


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Azmot
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MAG : 1
Darkness. Light. Darkness. Light.

Each second seemed to welcome the other. For some reason, the light burned, but the darkness was consuming.

Darkness. Light. Darkness.

The light had stopped creeping in. Was it snuffed out? Completely destroyed by the constant wave murky blackness?

Perhaps that was the nature of the dichotomous foes, to shift eternally, for one to remain triumphant for a 1000 years to allow some religion to come to pass and then, nothing. For the  cycle to reset, or allow the other to reign for those many years, until the universe would compress and restart the ever-dwindling flames that rest in man's heart.

And then, Sahn realized, that this was just "blinking". Whatever ponderous thoughts he had on the importance of light and darkness were fleeting thoughts of a stirring mind - over-dramatized and surface level thinking. If any of his past lives thought that such matters were important, the Dream Eater suddenly thought, then they were foolish.

It was strange to have that thought, though. Sahn was never religious, nor could he recall any time where he pondered on the ideas of a past life. A striking pain shot through his head as he tried to reflect on these thoughts. The spray of sea foam hitting his face soothed him and lead him away from his thoughts, and Sahn stopped blinking.

There was a crystal blue sky, and sand to his sides. On his right, the sand seemed to be depressed as if an object had lain their moments ago, long and cylindrical. He appeared to be on some shore, perhaps an island, but there were no settlements where he was, just jungle at his back. Standing, Sahn was heavily protected against the invaders made of tiny grains, and felt strangely secure. He was near the water, watching over it like a passing guardian, or the fluctuating tide. He stood, lazily and without purpose, at peace.

The thing about peace was that it never lasted long.

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Nasir
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The beach was as welcoming as ever. All ingredients left a fulfilling euphoria. The beating Sun was met with a cooling breeze, a constant relief to all participants of the day. The crystal, blue sky was clear, a change of weather unlikely, another factor in favor of the beach-dwellers. The tide followed its own relaxed rhythm, setting the tone for the day, not just for the humans that visited this ecosystem, but all the inhabitants, such as the various seagulls that soared above, or the crabs that sidestepped across the Sun-bathed sand.

As the glowing orb hit its peak, a brown skinned boy clamored onto the smaller island. The tuft of hair on his head had bits of sand sprinkled across it, as did the rest of his attire; a white, collared shirt underneath a green tunic of sorts, being held by fashionably questionable suspenders. His black beach shorts were a little long, as they were a hand-me-down, which was easily noticeable by how worn down the piece of clothing was. It even reached a bit past his knees, but not enough to be considered loose-fit capris. He wore sandals, with no socks, after all, this was a beach, don't be ridiculous.

"Assholes." He grumbled, to himself, pouting as he stood up. He was soaked from the swim over, but the water was warm, making the transition from ocean to island a negligible difference, aside the inability to breathe. He carried a fishing pole on his back, which was even more worn down than his swim trunks. It was much simpler than the newer inventions, which could lead someone to believe that it dated back more than a single generation. As he briefly reached back, to ensure the artifact was still in its place, he let out a sigh of relief, but the disgruntled look didn't leave his face.

As he composed himself, he noticed a man behaving strangely by the shore. He seemed to be blinking. On, off. On, off. If Nasir were wittier, he would make a joke akin to 'How many tourists does it take to screw in a lightbulb?'

Unfortunately, he didn't have that depth to him. He was only twelve.

As he got closer, his purposeful footsteps would only leave him about two feet away from the man. He was paler in skin tone -- far paler -- which left the boy prejudiced against him. He was likely another adult who only saw him as a 'sandnigger'. Nasir didn't even know what that meant, but he knew they thought less of him than they did the other children of the island. Without hesitation, he began, "Listen, Tourist," He began, with as much prejudice as the adults who discriminated against him, "This is my island. Get off."

This was a lie, but he felt entitled to something. This was one of the smaller, rinky-dink islands no one liked to go to, so he adopted it as his own, even though he was constantly reminded how he wasn't entitled to own anything, including the food he stole from the trash. However,  the 'rightful owners' never inhabited the area anyway, so he wasn't going to let some stranger stake claim in his land.

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Azmot
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The sound of feet crushing the sand beneath was masked by the ocean's caress against the shoreline, so the harsh tone pierced the air in such a way that caused Sahn's stomach to drop in a mixture of fear and excitement. His eyes focused as his neck swiveled lazily towards the origin of the noise - a mulatto-colored boy stood in a manner that was leaking venom. While Sahn didn't quite register the first words the boy spoke due to the Dream Eater's surprise, the second phrase seemed as clear as the sky, in intent and enunciation.

"This is my island. Get off."

Looking over the boy, Sahn took in his appearance in a concise list. Dark-skinned; messy hair; green eyes; youthful look; green shirt, long at its base; black shorts; strange suspenders; sandals; and a fishing pole.

The obviously over-dressed adult probably looked less 'with the know' to some bystander. With a look of bewilderment and sincerity, Sahn responded simply, if in slight confusion, that could easily be interpreted as condescending. "But if I do that, I could drown." His words were stale and plain, but also awkward, as if without practice.

Looking on the ocean, though, Sahn did not feel fear, as a child did not fear death, which seemed so long off. Ignorance radiated from every pore, dripped and oozed in just his stance. He wondered why the boy seemed to despise him so deeply, so Sahn tried to look back in his memory - there were none. Strange for him to try to recall if he had never experienced, though he couldn't ponder deep into these things: truly, he didn't know how. He didn't feel curiosity, nor did he feel like these thoughts should be dedicated to memory; he had no desire or reason to, though a more intelligent individual should.

"I don't think I know how to swim." He added after a pause, some seconds of contemplation.

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Nasir
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As the man turned, he let out a somewhat condescending remark. He was either playing dumb, or actually afflicted with some neuro-divergent wiring up in his headspace. Nasir wasn't too happy with the reply, almost responding with hostility until the second comment had taken him aback. There was genuine concern and innocence in the man's voice, a curiousness of his own capability. Nasir was confused. You either know you can swim or know you can't swim. As he crossed his arms to reinforce his stands, he replied, "That's not my problem."

He was unsure what game this man was trying to play, but he wasn't having any of it. He was going to assert his dominance over the land the same way the adults did over him. He had learned a bit from the way they treated him, and that was the only way to show you had power over a domain. Your stance and body language did most of the work, and it was unlikely this knucklehead would make this physical. He didn't even know if he could swim. Was Nasir supposed to take him seriously?

His conscious slightly weighed on him for bullying someone who was mentally disabled, but there was a time for courtesy and there was a time for ground-holding. The brown boy's judgement was incorrect, but he had little life experience to base it on.

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Azmot
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The boy's stance went from protective to threatening, which stirred something inside the Dream Eater. His eyebrows dug into the tops of his eyelids as his face hardened, his right leg gliding effortlessly behind his left so that his body was angled against the forward facing island dweller. Instinct begat his innermost thoughts as Sahn prepared himself, somewhat expertly, against combat. It wasn't as if his physical body was callused against warfare; his skin was smooth and virgin, but inside lie seasoned muscles that tensed at the opportunity of use.

"If you truly want me off this island, then it is your problem. Your barking does not amuse me, pup."

Somewhere, through the mesh of reality in which those outside of it could peer into, an Ice Fiend smirked in symphony with a Fire Imp. The attitude of Nasir had completely changed who Sahn thought he was - at first, he felt kind, almost daft, but caring. Now, he felt colder, yet hot with rage, without sympathy. He wasn't sure he liked this feeling. Was this who he was before his memories escaped him? Like leashing a rabid beast, Sahn was able to slightly lower his guard, trying to soften his features to seem less combative.

"Why are you so hostile, Guardian of the Isle?" He said in his most curious tone, though he was still furious. It was a small upset, really, but Sahn didn't seem to be able to douse this fire. His blood pumped vigorously as his veins expanded and adrenaline surged, extorting aggression from his otherwise gentle spirit. It was like he had different aspects, such as gods in cultures bled into eachother and shared names.

Strange.

What were gods to Sahn?

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Nasir
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As his bluff was called, Nasir backed down, his tail between his legs. Despite this, he'd make an excuse to justify his own actions. He had to rationalize the situation in his own way, or else he'd become far too upset at his lack of power. Pulling out his fishing pole, he said, "You're lucky I'm hungry." As if his lack of nutrition was really what was preventing him from a true, violent confrontation with the man before him. Walking towards the water, he sat down, letting his feet play in the ocean as he tossed out his reel. He never really knew how to fish, honestly. He barely ever caught anything, and when he did, it was nothing substantial.

As the man asked another question, he begrudgingly replied, "I don't know. It's not fair." It was difficult for him to vocalize his emotions, as he's had little experience dealing with more complex issues. Not to mention, not many people wanted to converse with him, let alone with something as in depth as the reasons for his actions. Admittedly, he never gave it much thought, but perhaps this was a change of pace. "It's how Koma's parents act and they get what they want." He said, obviously bitter and envious of their luxuries.

The fishing pole continued to be insufficient. He hadn't even put any bait before tossing it in the water. Atop of this, his feet kept on moving, which would scare away any fish that got too close to him. He had no idea what he was doing.

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Azmot
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Looking at the design of the rather mundane fishing pole, Sahn was able to understand it's purpose and desired outcome. Fishing, root word fish, 'ing' being a state of action, fish are food, therefore, fishing is predation to get the food. Bait would be on the tip of a sharp hook that would catch a fish helpless, in which it could be yanked to reel in. And while he wasn't a savant when it came to behavior of aquatic life, the noise and vibrations would scare of prey in any scenario.

"You're doing it wrong."

Sahn disappeared for a moment. He came back with thick bamboo and some tweed twisted into sturdy fishing line, solid oak in a crude hook shape, and a worm squirming in pain, lanced in the wooden hook. "Stop moving, be still." Sahn commanded, sitting down lightly and casting his line. At his calmness, the sea actually seemed to calm, ever so slightly. Then, a tug. It was small, but there was force behind it. One, two, one, and then stillness.

SFFFFFT!

The wind whistled as Sahn yanked his pole backwards, allowing a rather small but thick fish to fly through the air and crash into the sand behind him.

"It sounds like Koma's parents are harsh and undeserving. Why use force when other options are not exhausted?"

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Nasir
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"YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG." He reacted, in a knee-jerk fashion. Kids weren't the most intelligent and witty bunch, and Nasir was no exception. In fact, he was even less so due to his upbringing. Dropping the fishing rod in the sand, he pouted as he awaited the man to come back. As he returned, with his own contraption, his technique seemed to work, which admittedly impressed Nasir. None of the other kids could catch a fish that big without an adult's help and, even then, it was never that quick.

Picking up his rod again, he moved his feet out of the water and sat with them crossed. "You need to show me how to do that." He said, taking another gander at the fish they caught. He might even steal it from this man and show off to the rest of the kids if he got a chance. I mean, this fish would definitely make them jealous, right? And it'd be even better if he really knew how to fish too.

"They use forces because they're bigger. It's a doggy dog world," He began, genuinely using the inappropriate phrase, having misheard it multiple times in his youth. "Whatever that means." He accepted grumpily, still patiently waiting for further instruction. As he slouched, he just watched the calmer waves, as they seemed to respond to the patience they were given.

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Azmot
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Doggie.. dog? Sahn thought that the name fit a hip-hop artist more than a personification of the world. Wait, what was hip-hop? It sounded painful and something that might dislocate a leg.

Sahn shook off his pondering and focused on the boy. "That's it, now shush. The oceans are teeming with life, so much that one can almost feel it buzz. I just began and I can feel them, carving through the water like moles in the earth. Be patient, and eventually even the mightiest fish can be caught in your snare. Strength and Speed never win out against Cunning."

And the Dream Eater spoke truthfully, at least to what little he knew. He spoke of his most core beliefs, but they didn't feel... organic. Struggled for. Earned. Everything he was seemed to be handed to him - and it was such a weird feeling. Even while he didn't have any memories, his instincts gave him brief flashes of nostalgia, small peeks. And each time he had one, an indescriptive feeling, it seemed.. manufactured. Like he was seeing them through a television screen.

"I will demonstrate the value of cunning to you, later, when I take you home. Before that, I think we'll pay a visit to Koma's parents."

Sahn felt no responsibility for the boy - but he felt strangely honorbound to show him that the world wasn't full of evil people, and that evil did not always preveil. Again, these were things implanted into Sahn - he didn't know if the world didn't really work this way.

But the boy was hope, to Sahn, that it wasn't. And then again, he was a beacon of dismay - if all youths in the world were twisted and distorted like the one before the man, it would be a sad place.

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Nasir
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As the man went on a monotonous tirade of sorts, Nasir stood shut. He really didn't get why, but he felt that he knew what he was talking about, opposed to other adults who didn't give him the time of day, hour, or minute. Unfortunately, he didn't really understand what he meant by cunning. How much could cunning really do against someone who was stronger and faster than you? They'd likely stomp out the flames of resistance before any burns proved evident. However, this man seemed adamant about the necessity of cunning, which would hopefully provide much needed insight.

"So, uh, what's your name?" He said, awkwardly, after the comment about Koma's parents. He was unsure what he wanted to do. Was he going to show him how to beat them up? He was sure he'd get in trouble with the other adults if they hurt them. Then again, what if this adult had more power than them, could he get in trouble? Or would they be in trouble for opposing them? He never really dealt with the laws too much, but he knew the general rules of what he shouldn't do. "Why are we going to visit them? They don't like me."

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Azmot
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As Nasir asked him for a name, one suddenly appeared in the Dream Eater's mind. He had no explanation on its origins or meaning, but knew it well. "Sahn." With that, the Dream Eater stood, contemplating a bit about the boy's second question. "I suppose I will talk to them about their villainous attitude, and then perhaps, based on further experience with their tyranny, take more retributive action." He outstretched his hand in offering for assistance, attempting to help Nasir off the ground.

"And your name, young one?"

Sahn saw something in the boy. Opportunity, maybe. Clay to be molded - well, clay seemed more useful.

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