Faelinx

Faelinx is merely a DreamSeer who seeks the various types of knowledge the City of Dreams has to offer. He's greatly intrigued by the way the mind interacts with the others in the city. As well as this, he is also interested in how the various elements of the city come together to form everything we see each time we enter it's vast walls. The city itself, offers him a freedom he has not experienced in quite some time. A large scroll carries his story on how he reached the City, and this is what it says:

"A dream is only as fantastic as the mind that creates it", the old wise man once said to me. Looking back through the many moons that I spent practically caged up in this prison of mine. This...Dungeon... I have read through many scrolls, as they generously cover the four walls that surround me, carefully kept in strategic, numerical, order. Day comes, yet the light escapes my eyes within this darkened tomb, and it is merely candle light that provides me any vision at all. Day after day I spend my time reading, writing, but most importantly, learning. I have concluded that with such an array of knowledge within in so many rolled up collections of words, that somewhere in this mess is the answer to my most frequent question. What is the purpose, let alone meaning, of life?

The only memory from my childhood is an open field. I was running along this wheat field, a simple boy no older than eight, when I tripped over a hole in the ground. Upon hitting the ground, my head struck hard against a rock, knocking me completely out. As I began to regain consciousness after the unfortunate incident a hooded figure stood over me. The individual’s features escaped my view as I was temporarily blinded from the sunlight above. The next moment I could recall was being in an uncomfortable bed in a darkened cavern. As I looked around to examine my new surroundings, I noticed a small table with an equally small chair. The table was quite empty of items save for the plate lightly filled with bread, a small glass of water, an ink bottle, a shabby quill, and a few candles that seem to never burn out. As I continued to gaze around this room I noticed the shelving along the walls. Many scrolls neatly kept in a particular order, but no sign of an exit. After consuming the bread and water, I decided to lay back down and quickly fell asleep again hoping it was all a bad dream…

When I awoke what I thought would be the next day, darkness still surrounded me. The still lit candles where I had left them, but a scroll upon the table was where the plate had been. I sat down in the chair and began to look over the scroll. It had but a single paragraph written upon it as if the opening to spectacular tale. It told of a boy who was taken by the ‘Eye’ and placed in solitude. As I reached the end of the paragraph there was nothing more except the three periods as if to compel me to finish the unwritten story. I thought long and hard about what to write down, but no thoughts came to my mind. Instead I stood and casually walked around the room occasionally glancing over a scroll or two. They mainly seemed to concentrate on only two topics. At this point in time, war and politics really didn’t interest me at all. After what seemed like months, I decided to start reading them.

I began to keep track of the days by carving notches into the table. From this I formed my own calendar, and decided upon a time. I went back to that scroll so scarce of words and began to write…

“Fifteen years, four months, and ten days ago roughly, I was running through a wheat field when I slipped and hit my head. A shadowy figure filled my view when I woke, and I assume was the one who brought me to my current prison. After much reading and examination of the many words kept within these four walls, I came across an interesting piece. It was nothing like I had encountered before as it spoke of the nature of dreams. I became fascinated with this scroll in particular and began dissecting everything I could about it. One of the first things that I noticed about this one, was that hand writing was different than the other scrolls that accompanied it. Either the one who wrote it was in a hurry, or there was another lost soul within these walls before me…”

At this point in time, I had become familiar with war and battle tactics. There were even scrolls that outlined proper technique when using a sword. One day I had woken to find a sword carefully leaned up against one of the walls. I pulled out the scroll that spoke of sword play and began to teach myself. Each night after practicing with my sword I would venture back to the table and chair and read more of these dreams. As I read through it, I began to notice one word standing out. Throughout this entire piece of literature, the author wrote about dreams and a city of sorts. The night I noticed this, is the night I found myself within the halls of Underlight.

As I sat that night searching the scroll for more references to this city of dreams it spoke of, I was overcome by exhaustion. It seemed to hit me like a ton of bricks. I stumbled over to my uncomfortable bed, and the moment my head hit the flat pillow and my eyes closed, they were immediately opened again. Instead of a dim room with candles, I stood in a courtyard with eight portals above me. It was brightly lit with sunshine and water flowed freely on the lower level. After studying the room, I entered one of the portals that lead to Threshold. There were many faces that looked over at me and all seemed to know that I was new. They offered me a warm welcome, and one asked me my name. I had been locked away so long that I could not remember what I was even known as. I looked blankly at the dreamer a moment, and when I opened my mouth, it was as if the city spoke for me…