Carabas

A man flies into a church in a hurry, and runs across an old friend he hasn't seen for a long time. He's excited to see his friend's still alive, but concerned to see he's not wearing his armor - he's in jeans and a t-shirt, and there's a sense that this means he's rejected a role, walked away from something. And there's a small scar by the corner of his mouth, that's new.

Unfortunately, there's no time to talk, he's running from something - he asks his friend for help, and his friend agrees, opening a portal for him. As he's about to pass through it, however, a group of people fly into the room, wearing armor like the kind his old friend used to have, shouting for him to stop - they're acting like both the portal and his old friend are a threat. From my 3rd person perspective's location, I can't see where that portal would lead.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

I'm fighting someone, but I've stolen his weapons and made them my own - his cloud of mist, his glowing light. I feel a snap. I'm surprised to find he dies as easily as anyone else without his toys. Three of us who'd been fighting him together drive off, leaving someone behind to clean up.

I apologize to the man driving the car, someone I've been with for years now. That whole situation had been my fault - I'm saying I couldn't just follow instructions when I should have, and "Let it get too loud." He says, "And then it didn't anymore."

Yesterday's dreams included using abandoned tunnels running beneath a lake as a hiding place to sleep in during the day. There's one place that leads to a glass dome where you can look up and see the lake above you.

Today's: I'm trying to prevent some disaster, and I'm running out of time. At the moment I'm standing on a rooftop, watching several people in a field far below us. Along with me there's two people, a woman who I think of as my partner - she's on the other side of the roof at the moment, busy with her own efforts - and then this man. He has the power to make anything he says come true, but for his own safety and everyone else's, I made him forget about this power. This is an emergency. I force him to remember, and then I have him use that power to say that there's an earthquake. We all hold onto the roof and watch a crack open up in the field where those people are. The ground's still shaking, the people are scattering, but I don't think this will be enough. We should just bury this place beneath the sea, that ought to do it.

The place is covered in white mist now, blocking out everything below the roof we're standing on, and it's quiet, no more sounds of people below us. I'm walking back toward my partner on the other side of the roof, and I believe submerging this place and all the people in it has managed to avert the disaster. But then this dark spire rises up out of the fog directly in front of me, and keeps rising up into the sky.

It's this huge, gothic tower, a single immense spire composed of smaller ones, spire upon spire upon spire, all jagged edges. I think of a cathedral, but there's no religious imagery, just a sense of awe and horror; I think of a clock tower, but there's no face. It keeps rising higher and higher, I can no longer see the top of it. Flooding this place was a wasted effort.

And as I hang onto the edge of the roof and watch the spire rise, I hear an old man's voice in my head. "Here to keep your ledge, little boy, who once rared-"

A dream ends with my mother's death by self-inflicted head wound, in a scene comparing her to a woman who'd shot others in order to protect the family; this is followed by several false awakenings in which my IRL sisters and I realize we've all had that same dream and argue over whether to go check on her - S. was against waking her. (There was also a room behind S. that I recognized as out of place, though I rationalized it away.) In the last false awakening we finally do check on her, and the head wound turns out to have been a metaphor for a stroke she experienced in the night; I go to call 911, only to have her stop me and explain that the stroke is also a metaphor - she removed something from her mouth which had been distorting her speech and features.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

I'm in a field looking at scarecrows tied in place with gold that shines in the sunlight. I've just been hearing a story about how they got here - they were people once. Dead now. There's a mist starting to come down from between the mountains at the far end of the field, as it always does at this time of day though I've never been here to see it before, and I'm watching it make spiraling patterns in the sky. It's very beautiful.

As Spike, I'm sitting in a classroom that Buffy's gang is using to talk about an apocalyptic threat - something involving a demon from another dimension - I'm annoyed at how blasé they are about it. I'm aware this is normal for them, but it's something that shouldn't be normal for anyone. It's as if they're not taking a warning seriously.

I've just arrived on the edge of a cliff, out of sight, and now I'm following a path through the trees into town. I'm shocked by the state of the place. Although visually, I-the-dreamer didn't actually see anything that looked unusual - it was night, the streets were empty, there wasn't much to see but it seemed like an ordinary small town - I had the impression that I-the-character was looking at foulness or decay, something along those lines. I hear a conversation like a voiceover, it's not part of this scene - I have the impression it's something said later, as if what I'm seeing is a flashback related to that conversation. In the conversation, I'm saying, "I saw-" and someone else cuts me off, saying "No. You didn't 'see.' You corrupted." They sound angry. That is to say, whatever's wrong with this town is due to my presence, or at least the person speaking believed so. Visually, I'm still walking through that town, and a woman appears in the street, shining or glowing, wearing white robes, and after a moment I recognize Erana. I'm very relieved and run to her; she's not looking at me, she's looking around at the town, looking like she's mourning.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

That same town, relatively early in the evening, when there are still people in the streets. I'm walking together with a married couple. I'm looking at two shops next to each other, and I'm remembering when the man I'm walking with praised this town to me, telling me I should come and visit him and his wife here, talking about the brightly colored buildings and the many-colored tiles on the roofs. I'm looking at the faded paint on these buildings and trying to convince myself that maybe it looks better in sunlight, but I don't think so. I mention this to him, and he brushes it off, vaguely implying that I'm misremembering what he'd said, or that he'd exaggerated, and that it's not important. I start to press the subject, asking his wife about the state of the town.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

I'm walking on a dirt road just before dawn, sky's bright. The ground to my right drops off sharply into a valley which at the moment is filled with rising mist, and I'm stopping to enjoy the sight. It's very beautiful.

(Woke up. Back to sleep.)

A mother and daughter in their library, the mother is standing over a book lying open on a stand, and the daughter is behind the stand, trying to get a look at the book. She holds up a candle to try to read, but her mother tells her you can't read it like this. The mother puts out her candle, and all the other lights, and when it's pitch black the book starts glowing. As a 3rd person observer, I'm thinking something about how this makes perfect sense for a book about darkness. The mother is focusing on the book and saying "I shan't flee from you around here, mortal." The light from the book flares up so brightly I can't see anything else.