estdeus_innobis | Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.

Early morning of Friday, 8 January

Dawn and gloaming are gateway times, thin hours between night and day. My power is weaker in daylight, fewer sleeping, my sense of myself thinner. The closest I get to sleeping myself is in the day. But as the day slips into night or the night pales into morning, then do all sorts of walls thin... And even if I am not at my strongest, I can sometimes see further than at other times.

Something happened at the break of day yesterday. I saw the trail of the dream as it found Tess, the young witch to whom I gave a dream of water, and even after she wakes I can feel the dream clinging to her. The sound of her magic is loud enough to rattle here in dream. Something about the shape of it makes me feel a sharp bright sort of hope, small but brilliant. I want to know more, and so I walk dream with purpose tonight. Tonight I want to be felt, and my steps through others' dreams are sure and light, but not silent.

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