<span style="font-size:large;"><div style="text-align:center">Chapter 1-Vague recollections</div></span>
It's another lovely day here. I'm at peace, my friends are with me, all is good. The sky's blue, the grass is green, and Kumo over there is having fun practicing another of his dances...life is good, for the nonce.
It always is, until that bastard shows up, takes over one of us, and starts his little games. Eight hours, more occasionally and less other times, of pure torture. Pain. Agony. Loss. Fighting and death and blood. Sometimes we don't even find each other for days. The Scapes can be hard enough on us without adding isolation to the list of things that drive one crazy.
And speak of the devil. I can see that all-too-familiar green orb headed straight for poor Bill. He's been praying for weeks, that bright red bardic uniform of his getting rather worn at the knees, that he wouldn't be picked for anything dangerous. And now his green face contorted in fear, his small hand reaching for that flute of his. I wish I could help him...but even if I were to put myself in the way of the dreamer, it'd just pass through me. No one really knows how they choose us, they just do.
And then Bill goes glass-eyed for a moment, and begins to take on the new person he's become. He's not quite Bill any longer. He still has the memories, the thoughts, the intellect of his old self, but he's been changed. Changed into the dreamer. Reds save us all.
(Finish this in the morning.) <p>
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