Estivan's Dream

Darkness, floating nothingness- Estivan Diego is drifting in a lightless void. All his troubled thoughts flood backing into his mind with no distractions to hold them at bay. Anger at falsehood and evil in his heart burns at his soul. Anger at what he saw as a dark mirror in the Necromancer, what he himself might very well become. Anger at Tyr for letting a m,an like Feringal fall so far from grace. How could the deity whose edicts seem to have been the foundation of Estivan very life let such a tragedy happen.

“Damn them, damn them all. Damn you gods. I suffer because of you.!” screams Estivan in a fit of pure Draconic rage. The evil of Itho threatens to consume him.

“What use are you bastards, toying with us mortals, playing with or dreams and hopes while laughing at out misery and ignoring our crises? What of Feringal? What of his undead love? WHAT OF MY MOTHER, who still to the day cries in her sleep and screams and cowers when she sees my eyes when I am the one to rouse her? DAMN YOU ALL FOR MY EXISTANCE!

Suddenly, in the mists of his tirade, he hits a hear surface- a floor of black marble. Behind him opens a chasm, glowing red with flame and resounding with the cries of tortured souls and the laughter of the damned. Above and ahead of Estivan burst opens stream of light which radiates peace and blissful singing. Far to his left appears a great wall of sickly gray-green hue which guards a great citadel of shining clear crystal. A great black Judaical bench springs forth from the ground to his right. From its face blaze the skeletal arm and libra symbol as a dark brooding man appear in the Judges seat. The man glares into Estivan's soul and says, “Welcome Faithless to your hearing.

Estivan's eyes widen as a cold claw of fear and worry grabs at his heart for his recent religious studies recognize this man as Kelevmor, the judge of the dead. “Am I dead?”, stammers Estivan.

Kelevmor solemnly shakes his head, “No Faithless, you live yet. I have mere been asked by interested parties for you to be shown your choices. Odd that the beings you so wish to leave you be care about your fate.”

Estivan's arrogence and courage come back as he scoffs at the very notion,”What the Gods?!? What do you Bastards have to with me when you have done nothing before!?”

Kelevmor smirks darkly, “Proud Faithless, if they didn't why are you standing here, rather then there where your hubris with land you?” He points to the wall which reveals itself to be made of the slowly dissolving souls o the faithless and the spot he is point to is empty. “That space awaits for you Estivan Diego, Tamara's son.”, gently whisper Kelevmor.

A sultry feminine voice speaks up, “Such a waste for a soul who's love and passion burns brightly enough to defy even the Gods with pride and vanity.” Sune Firehair, whose voice it was, slinks up to Estivan and kisses him on the cheek” Fear not dear heart, your birth father's ugly wickedness is not in you heart as you fear it to be.”

Estivan falls back from the unexpected kiss, “How can't it be? I have his eyes, his tongue, his image and his very blood... surely” Sune interrupts with a radiant smile, “But your soul doesn't” She produces a mirror in which Estivan sees a handsome man of Teythrian birth who bears a strong resemblance to his mother. Estivan glares at the mirror and yells, “WHAT IS THIS!?! Sune replies, “Your soul, you are truly Ferdiand and Tamara's son, not Itho's. You have human potential and human choices, don't continue this fatalistic course of yours, an as yet unknown(to you at least) fair maid will lose her true love if you do.” With this enigmatic remark Sune disappears.

“Indeed you are your parents son,” says a stern yet kind voice to Estivan's right. Turns to his right and glares at the old burly, one armed blind standing. He hasps and his eyes drop to the floor as he realizes that its Tyr himself” They are proud of you Estivan, have no doubt about it, as do I, though I know that your heart is not near to me as your parents are. Thank you for trying to help Feringal.” With that Tyr vanish.

A noble voice comes up and a lion headed man, Torm the true, marches toward Estivan, “You are brave Esitvan and always true to your word. A man like that doesn't deserve to become brick and mortar. Find yourself Estivan and always be true to it.” Then another man, clad in full plate, Helm the Watchful says, “Your honor as great potential Estivan and as your noble decition to help guard the mage college. Lead by example and more guardians might arrive and protect those who need it. Do what you think is right for others.” Both warrior deity draw there swords and salute Estivan as the vanish.

“What do those fools know. Feringal knew the truth but he was stupid enough to fall in with the wrong sort. You are born to rule Estivan,” says an authoritative, but cruel and demanding voice. Estivan turns toward the chasm and see Bane himself, “I can grant you all you desire, the respect you deserve, the recognition due to you and power, wealth and title that is rightfully yours. With me you can crush Intho and the rule what ever you wish even oust the Harper puppets currently ruling your home land. That land needs a native born uninfluenced by northern barbarian meddlers.

Banes words echo in Estivan's mind, heightening his pride and appealing to his arrogance and bigotry. He decides to see what is new, but temptation sirens call whisper to him as Bane ,gloating, vanishes in a cloud of brimstone.

From the chasm burst a great feom and the five head mother of all evil dragons, Tiamat lands in front of Estivan, “Apes are so short sighted and foolish, they can never truly respect. Join me. My wayward son and I can grant all you desire and much much more. Why settle to be a king when with me you can be a god? Join me and become my greatest champion.” The she flies back into the pit from whince she came.

A darkly beautiful, but cold woman's voice speak up, “You know that you'll never truly win respect and rule with them. They cannot know the bitter in you heart and that you cannot possibly love, even you mother's love is just a pale false shadow, as is everthing you thought you knew. Bitterness is your future, Estivan.” Estivan turns and see the Lady of Darkness, Shar standing before him, “Only I can grant you reprieve from what your true heart is. I can help you pay back all those you have wronged you and help you sooth the bitterness in you and in others. Yes, Estivan, I can sooth Feringal. Join with me and together we can cure him and bring him put of the clutches of Cryic so he can be at peace after his tortured life and sooth the loss of his love. Love only leads to pain and loss, you know this, Feringal is the perfect example. Join me my dark knight.” With these dark honeyed words Shar fades into the darkness.

Estivan turns toward the bench and glares at Kelevmor, “Why am I hear to listen to all these beings? Is this your idea? Are you going to admonish what I did or tempt me with my myriad desires? Are you going to ask me to join your fold?” Kelevmor glares back and says, “No, if I had my way you would have been left alone and become just another Faithless or worse. I was asked to show you your choices,” Estivan replies with venom, “Which divine beings asked for me to know my choices.

A gentle woman's hand touches Estivan and a mystical airy voice says, “No divine beings asked for you to know your choices Estivan, not at first.” The hand turns Estivan around and he finds himself looking into the fierce, strong yet kind and gentle eyes of a beautiful dark hair woman who seems to glow with mystic power. Estivan blutters, “Mystra!?! Then if it wasn't a god at first, who ask and who ask for that person.

Mystra kindly replies, “Your sister Alahandra, who you know is studying the art, and well as the rest of the family didn't tell you, she didn't tell you that follows me and joined my clergy. She love you dearly Estivan, even though you are only her half-brother. She was worried you wouldn't find yourself and receiving you letter she realised that you fear you have absolutely no choice in your life. She worried greatly and prayed me to you to realize your choice so I asked Kelevmor to arrange this dream for you and that is all I am here to do. No fancy motions, no uplifting, flattering words no offers none of that, just to give you a message.” Estivan glares at her skeptically “What message?” to which Mystra laughs, “Oh that famous glare of yours backed by your supreme expressive face. There is nothing quite like it, even here in the planes. As for the message, her it is.”

Mystra waves her hands an an image of a beautiful young Tethyran noblewoman of 18 springs dress in Mystrian vestments. It is Alahandra herself, “Hello Estivan. I am glad to hear you found a place for yourself at the Beghost college. However, I am worried that you are still drifting about not knowing who you are. I guess by know you realize how devout house Diego is, especially mother and father to Tyr. I want you to know we all love you dearly, even with your many faults. We wish you to go searching and find yourself while you are in the north. Weather the outcome is good or ill, we with still love you and will welcome you home. Take care Estivan and make us proud.” Then the image of his sister fade.

He looks again at Mystra then Kelevmor, “That you, now if you would send me back. I have a great deal more think to do now that my eyes are clearer. If you would, please do it in a hurry. I really do have work to do.” Both the god nods and everything starts to fade away into blackness. The last think Estivan hears is Mystra saying, “Thank for doing this Kel,” and Kelevmor replying, “Anything for you Midnight.