//abyssal shard dream, at midnight

//You dream of

the night sky, deep and endless as the void below. It envelops you entirely, the chill in its caress beading like ink upon your [skinshort] as you draw in a breath that never comes. Instead, infinity lingers on your lips, cold and tasteless, greeting you with a welcome you needn't understand but must accept. It clings tight to you, but to your surprise, you're not[if (haswings) { flying or}] falling.

You're simply here, as you've always been, all alone except for the slow drip of the stars bleeding out upon the black, dancing and glittering behind glass, looking out as you look in. They're almost near enough to touch, and you reach up, letting their essence pool in your hands. A distant pulse sinks through your palms, far louder than your own, and as you glance down into those crystalline depths, everything falls away to dizzying heights.

Then you're there, cloaked in midnight, wrapped tight enough to count the weave in those shadows-spun. The trees below are smothered in gray, each one twisted up and tangled until you're not sure where one ends and the next begins, the whole sight little more than a smudge you could clean away with a flick of your [if (haspaws) {paw|[if (hasclaws) {claw|thumb}]}]. Above, the stars lie dead and still, always wanting for what was. You hold all the life here, and as your breath mists against the night, you fear the world might crumble apart.

A moment, then, and the first cracks creep across land and sky alike. Even the air itself comes in thin and fragile, soft on your lips, sour with decay. It tastes of rancid dreams and curdled thoughts, of buried whispers and foulest plots, and though each swallow feels like it loses you more than it brings in, you can't bring yourself to stop. This is who you are, who you were, who you will be, and as the stars spill from your mouth and trickle down your chin, your soul alone shines brilliant against the rot.

Fog frosts up the glass as you exhale, and the world vanishes with nothing more than the slow in and out of your chest. Inside sits only the empty canvas of the night, a blue-black backdrop ready for your hand. A slice of reality all your own, yours as nothing else could be. You should enter and claim your domain. It's what you built, after all--a place lifeless and dormant, ready to start anew. That thought exits on a shuddery breath, and moonlight congeals thick and red on your finger as you trace along the crystal's surface.

You awake with a start, blinking into the thin light streaming through [if (builtcabin) {your bedroom window|a gap in the tent}]. Something sharp and cold is [if (isgoo) {half-embedded}]in your palm, your [inv] lies strewn across the [if (builtcabin) {floor|ground}], and as you push yourself [if (singleleg) {up|to your feet}], you catch the faint glimmer of starlight in your hand.

By the time you glance down, it's gone. Your [inv], too, sits right where you left it, all sealed up and ready to go. Even your [bed] is undisturbed, as if you haven't slept at all, and the only thing you can remember is you have somewhere to be...