Lucidas
Legacy Name: Lucidas

The beauty of the dream is that it is not required to adhere to the rules of reality. A human may fly without wings, a dog may speak like a person, a door on land may lead into the ocean. Logic has no imperative position in dreams -- that is how it should be, and how it shall always be. Some may claim that in their dreams they are unable to perform actions beyond human capabilities, but that is often only because they unconsciously took reality's rules with them. Learning to discard such logic in dreams is a viable task, and very easy with the right mindset. Once tossed aside, the dream may take upon itself vibrant and extraordinary appearances, with superb potential to entertain the dreamer. Certainly, they made interesting shows for him.

Countless times by now he wandered into the dreams of countless individuals. He watched people go on wild adventures and battle beasts, be the superheroes of their cities, live out aspirations like being a rock star, and even face terrifying monsters in nightmares. Sometimes he stumbled onto sentimental situations involving the dreamer and a dear departed, or situations where the dream was so mundane and uneventful that he himself prompted something interesting to happen within. He thought of it as a kind gesture, of sorts.

Sometimes the dreamers acknowledged him, sometimes they didn't. Sometimes he interacted with them personally, other times, not. Most of the time, though, he simply observed. Why bother speaking to them when they only thought of him as a nameless character from the world they conjured up in their sleep? That is, if they were aware enough to even register such a thought. He found it frustrating, on occasion, when he presented the perfect opportunity for the dreamer to turn lucid, yet they still didn't. Although, he really shouldn't anger at that. Each one had their own potential, and some were more practiced than others.

The times when he could successfully interact with someone aware of their dreaming were the most entertaining. Admittedly, there had been times when he was bored and told the dreamer that he wasn't just some made-up person, and he came into their dream of his own volition to interact with them. Most of those dreamers hadn't believed him, and others humored him, but he could tell they didn't truly believe it either. That was alright; he wouldn't press the issue. It had become a personal goal - not entirely serious - to find someone who would sincerely believe him. He'd divulge what he knew of himself and the world of dreams to that one person, if ever he would encounter one, and answer any questions they had. Though he didn't exactly expect to find such a person from the beginning, he had a slight inkling he had found someone open-minded enough to be close.

The man was someone he had observed several times before. Nothing so special, but he could tell this was an individual familiar with being aware of his dreams, and indeed he had observed a number of times the man manipulating the dream to his own liking. It was interesting to watch, but curiosity prompted him for interaction, and in one particular dream he approached and struck conversation. That's where it started, and since then he would drop into the man's dreams occasionally to talk. It was a little surprising how consistently aware the man was in his dreams, and he remembered him in all the times they had met, as well. Not that that was a bad thing. It was actually pleasing.

Then, in one meeting they had, the man asked him a question that, surprisingly, made him pause in thought.

"Are you real?"

He was real. He knew he existed, but compared to the man with him, he could only exist in dreams and memory. The man's reality was a plane he could only dream of touching, though his desire to was not so strong. He forced himself to not let it grow strong. But, he was curious, and as much as he would deny it, there was a part of him that wondered what kind of a world the dreamers lived in. What kind of a world was it where every single moment you were bound by rules you could not possibly change?

The man eventually asked another question:

"What's your name?"

He realized it was something he had not paid much attention to for so very long. There was no need, after all, when there was no one around to ask for it. However, he did have one, and he was glad he did. He was not sure how he got it, or who gave it to him, but he had one.

He glanced at the man as he uttered it quickly. It had been a long time, he thought, since he last said it out loud to someone else. It was a bit of a relief, but at the same time, it felt like he was breaking some unknown rule by saying it.

"Lucidas."

Ego