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fandomweekly2025-11-28 02:24 pm
badly_knitted) wrote in fandomweekly2025-11-28 02:24 pm
Entry tags:
[#281] Shattered Dream (The Fantastic Journey)
Theme Prompt: #2821 – Mirage
Title: Shattered Dream
Fandom: The Fantastic Journey
Rating/Warnings: PG
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: A dream had led Varian to Gwenith, but it was a dream that could never last.
He couldn’t understand why he felt so exhausted all of a sudden. They were all tired; it was late, night had already fallen by the time they’d passed through the gateway into this zone, but this was different. The weariness that settled over him was so profound that Varian sank to the floor of the cave, unable to remain standing. It was disconcerting. He was dimly aware of his fellow travellers making camp, getting a fire going, preparing food, but all he wanted was to sleep.
The dreams started almost immediately, visions that wavered like a heat haze mirage. A woman, slender, blonde, lovely, dressed in white, smiling up at him, dancing and twirling to unheard music. Strange shapes, grotesque faces, leaping flames, and always, through it all, the woman, reaching out to him, her smile so sweet, so welcoming…
Varian stirred restlessly in his sleep, tossing aside the cover, his mind filled with disturbing, nightmarish images, and the sweet, ethereal enticement of the woman. At times it seemed she was trapped in the flames, silently calling out to him for help, as though he and only he could save her from the fire.
He jolted awake in the glow of the campfire. Around him, his friends slept on, undisturbed, and Varian sank back, trying to calm his breathing. “It’s just a dream,” he told himself, closing his eyes, thinking he probably wouldn’t remember it come morning. And yet, when he woke, with the sun shining outside the cavemouth, the image of the woman remained with him.
The others were still sleeping, so Varian slipped quietly out of the cave, stood in the sunlight for a moment, orienting himself, before following his instincts. He was scarcely even surprised when they led him straight to a sunlit glade where lilies bloomed, and the woman he’d dreamed of waited for him, sitting beneath a tree, just as she had in his dream.
She was beautiful as she smiled up at him, told him she’d been waiting for him, that she’d been told he would come. It still felt as though he was in a dream, and he scarcely knew anything about her, but somehow it didn’t matter; he would have followed her anywhere. As she told him, some things were simply meant to be; they belonged together. Being with her was all he wanted. Forever.
Could love be so simple? It certainly seemed so in that moment. They fitted each other more perfectly than Varian would have believed possible, as though each made the other complete. He was giddy with a sense of elation, that he’d come by chance to this island, and this particular place, as if guided by fate, just so that he and Gwenith could meet, and share the rest of their lives together.
Varian had never known such complete happiness; the only small cloud on the horizon was that he would have to bid his travelling companions, his friends, farewell. This was Gwenith’s home, and if he wished to be with her, which he did, then he would have to stay here, among her people. He would miss his friends, yes, but what he was gaining would be greater than what he was losing, or so he told himself.
The wedding took place that evening, only slightly marred by vague memories of his dream the night before, memories of fire and flames. Varian brushed them aside; he’d had a nightmare, that was all. Nothing could dim his happiness, not when Gwenith was here, beside him, and they were become one in the eyes of her people.
In the morning, saying goodbye to his friends was a bittersweet moment. They were sad to leave him behind, and part of him wished they could stay, but they were seeking a way home, and he wouldn’t try to hold them back from that, any more than they would try to compel him to go with them. The parting of the ways had always been inevitable; it was just happening a little sooner than they’d expected.
Alone with Gwenith, Varian waited for the High Priest to call them to the second part of her people’s wedding ritual, the Rites of Unification… and that was where everything fell apart, his dream of a long and happy life with his wife turning into a nightmare worse than all the fragmented images that had been haunting his mind since the night he’d arrived in this zone.
The ritual was insane, barbaric, inhuman! To throw the newlywed men into the volcano to appease some God that didn’t exist was madness! Varian struggled against the acolytes holding him, but they were strong and held on tight. He couldn’t break free, until the unthinkable happened, and Gwenith threw herself into the flames in his place.
It was his nightmare made manifest, and there was nothing Varian could do to prevent it. In less than a heartbeat, the woman he loved was gone, and all Varian could think to do was tear the temple apart, so that no one would ever again be senselessly sacrificed.
Morning dawned again, and the glade where he’d first met Gwenith looked exactly the same as it had two short days ago, except that she wasn’t there. As Varian plucked a lily and laid it beneath the tree where she’d been sitting when he first saw her, it occurred to him that everything that had happened in the past two days had essentially been a mirage. A sweet but unattainable dream. An illusion that had slipped through his fingers even as he’d tried to grasp it.
Perhaps he should have known when he met Gwenith that something so perfect, so right, could never last. Two auras that matched so perfectly they felt as one could simply not exist. The universe didn’t work that way. People were individuals, and yet… There was a raw place inside him like part of his soul had been ripped away. All he had left now was a beautiful memory.
The End
The dreams started almost immediately, visions that wavered like a heat haze mirage. A woman, slender, blonde, lovely, dressed in white, smiling up at him, dancing and twirling to unheard music. Strange shapes, grotesque faces, leaping flames, and always, through it all, the woman, reaching out to him, her smile so sweet, so welcoming…
Varian stirred restlessly in his sleep, tossing aside the cover, his mind filled with disturbing, nightmarish images, and the sweet, ethereal enticement of the woman. At times it seemed she was trapped in the flames, silently calling out to him for help, as though he and only he could save her from the fire.
He jolted awake in the glow of the campfire. Around him, his friends slept on, undisturbed, and Varian sank back, trying to calm his breathing. “It’s just a dream,” he told himself, closing his eyes, thinking he probably wouldn’t remember it come morning. And yet, when he woke, with the sun shining outside the cavemouth, the image of the woman remained with him.
The others were still sleeping, so Varian slipped quietly out of the cave, stood in the sunlight for a moment, orienting himself, before following his instincts. He was scarcely even surprised when they led him straight to a sunlit glade where lilies bloomed, and the woman he’d dreamed of waited for him, sitting beneath a tree, just as she had in his dream.
She was beautiful as she smiled up at him, told him she’d been waiting for him, that she’d been told he would come. It still felt as though he was in a dream, and he scarcely knew anything about her, but somehow it didn’t matter; he would have followed her anywhere. As she told him, some things were simply meant to be; they belonged together. Being with her was all he wanted. Forever.
Could love be so simple? It certainly seemed so in that moment. They fitted each other more perfectly than Varian would have believed possible, as though each made the other complete. He was giddy with a sense of elation, that he’d come by chance to this island, and this particular place, as if guided by fate, just so that he and Gwenith could meet, and share the rest of their lives together.
Varian had never known such complete happiness; the only small cloud on the horizon was that he would have to bid his travelling companions, his friends, farewell. This was Gwenith’s home, and if he wished to be with her, which he did, then he would have to stay here, among her people. He would miss his friends, yes, but what he was gaining would be greater than what he was losing, or so he told himself.
The wedding took place that evening, only slightly marred by vague memories of his dream the night before, memories of fire and flames. Varian brushed them aside; he’d had a nightmare, that was all. Nothing could dim his happiness, not when Gwenith was here, beside him, and they were become one in the eyes of her people.
In the morning, saying goodbye to his friends was a bittersweet moment. They were sad to leave him behind, and part of him wished they could stay, but they were seeking a way home, and he wouldn’t try to hold them back from that, any more than they would try to compel him to go with them. The parting of the ways had always been inevitable; it was just happening a little sooner than they’d expected.
Alone with Gwenith, Varian waited for the High Priest to call them to the second part of her people’s wedding ritual, the Rites of Unification… and that was where everything fell apart, his dream of a long and happy life with his wife turning into a nightmare worse than all the fragmented images that had been haunting his mind since the night he’d arrived in this zone.
The ritual was insane, barbaric, inhuman! To throw the newlywed men into the volcano to appease some God that didn’t exist was madness! Varian struggled against the acolytes holding him, but they were strong and held on tight. He couldn’t break free, until the unthinkable happened, and Gwenith threw herself into the flames in his place.
It was his nightmare made manifest, and there was nothing Varian could do to prevent it. In less than a heartbeat, the woman he loved was gone, and all Varian could think to do was tear the temple apart, so that no one would ever again be senselessly sacrificed.
Morning dawned again, and the glade where he’d first met Gwenith looked exactly the same as it had two short days ago, except that she wasn’t there. As Varian plucked a lily and laid it beneath the tree where she’d been sitting when he first saw her, it occurred to him that everything that had happened in the past two days had essentially been a mirage. A sweet but unattainable dream. An illusion that had slipped through his fingers even as he’d tried to grasp it.
Perhaps he should have known when he met Gwenith that something so perfect, so right, could never last. Two auras that matched so perfectly they felt as one could simply not exist. The universe didn’t work that way. People were individuals, and yet… There was a raw place inside him like part of his soul had been ripped away. All he had left now was a beautiful memory.
The End
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