The sun was way too hot for Dreamthief, who was sitting in a rock up on the cliff way too close to the gigantic high noon sun. His fair skin was starting to peel from sunburn down to his waist-- all he had on remaining were his pants and boots. Everything else just had to go. He tries to think straight for a moment.
The Prometheus gig isn't working anymore either. Same with the pressure cooker... even the damned birds forgot about me. I need to test something... Fireflies Journey.
Choosing a fairly useless Gift, a thousand small lights meander through the air out of his palm. Okay, now again. Nothing... Looks like I got one shot left with each. What the hell is happening? Okay I need to plan... get out of here alive. I've only got one shot left at getting out of this world and finding the right one.
Dreamthief. The one thing he wanted more than anything in the worlds was to find a perfect place. Everything back on Earth, the fighting with Kayla, growing up taking beatings from his grandfather... the accident... his grandfather dead but it seemed like such an accident... troubled... orphan... then streets... then underground where he found the old man... the promise... the responsibility... then crowned the Dreamthief... failing... losing Kayla... finally the one word to--
"ONE SHOT!! IS THAT ALL YOU GIVE ME, OLD MAN?! THAT'S WHAT IT COMES DOWN TO?! YOU TOLD ME I'D FIND IT!", Dreamthief begins to cry. Beautiful like a music box. A world of peace. Beautiful like Kayla. I'd rule there and we'd be back together. Or maybe I could be a kid again, when mom and dad would... No.
Today I'm here. Tomorrow I'm in tomorrow. Right now I'm still the Dreamthief in my book.
He reviews what's left in his bag of tricks as he jumps into the maze below. Perhaps for the last time ever to defy gravity... Damn I don't really have too much left-- I gave most of them to all the troops back-- when Dreamthief is hit with an idea. He recieves as well as he gives... in return for blasting powers into the Paxians, he took something in return. A part of their soul.
"Follow me."
Somewhere, surely, were a dozen soldiers, probably war heroes by now, who have been imbued each for unknown reasons (except to us) with untold powers. Somewhere, surely, they drop what they're doing and wander towards where they feel, in their hearts, a part of them saying Follow me. It is simply unresistable.
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