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An Unspoken Promise (Rewritten)

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The intruder disappeared before the dreamer had even started twisting a pretty misdirection.  A slightly surprised silence spread for long enough to confirm that the other was indeed gone, and then all other pretenses fled. 

 

The glamour that covered much of the dreamer’s upper left side dissolved into thin air, and he let himself relax a bit more as the strain of holding it up in a place designed without lies was released.  Again glancing around, this time through the only eye he had left that actually worked, the dreamer fully took in the changes that the intruder’s presence had distracted him from.  Everything the intruder had touched was an anomaly, but he himself was the biggest of them all, and the dreamer had not been able to keep his gaze away for long.  Now though, with the largest incongruity gone, he stared like an elfling their first time past the safety zone inside Greenwood.  Or perhaps, not like that at all.  When an elf stepped from their home in Greenwood they found decay and a slow, shuddering death.  Here, well, there was no life, not yet.  Nothing close to how it been so many years ago.  But there was apparently a promise left behind. 

 

Mortals wasted years on sleep, and though this one had stated that he did not spend all his time working, the dreamer knew of the kind of mortal he was well enough to know he would not settle to leave this place with the work half finished.  Indeed, the intruder’s own sense of duty was as good as a written agreement, even if it ended up stretching the entire blink of an eye his life would last.

 

A promise made to someone who didn’t even know if they wanted such an assurance.  For so long this place had remained empty, changing that now seemed almost like a betrayed.  Still, the dreamer took comfort in the knowledge that though the intruder could drag change across the entire dreamscape like a herd of greedy dwarves, nothing could truly happen without his input.  Life could not survive without water after all, and the emotion needed to bring forth said liquid was not something the dreamer had felt in an age. 

 

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what the intruder would do.  He was not, as the dreamer had discovered early on in their acquaintance, as greedy as a herd of dwarves, nor was he as conceited as the rest of his race.  The intruder was an irregularity rare seen amongst his kind.  So for now, the dreamer would wait.  He would sit back and watch.

 

See what became of this unspoken promise.