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Alear sleeps with Leif on one side and Seliph on the other. An external observer would only see three young men dozing in the grass. Leif’s head has turned to rest on Alear’s shoulder. Seliph lays on his side, tucked neatly against Alear. Both arms folded over his midsection, Alear is comfortably kept between the two. This is an experiment of a sort, despite appearing more like a midday nap than a serious endeavor. The ebb and flow of Emblem dreams are a mystery to all, and today these three have decided to confirm if proximity plays a strong part in connecting their dreams.
Their sleep continues even as the light of day turns to dusk. Instructions were clear; do not disturb until they wake. Wouldn’t a roof over their heads, a pillow under, have made for a much more comfortable testing ground? So probably think the viewers who walk past as the lanterns and wisps of magical fire become necessary to navigate the Somniel. The stars appear, increasing in numbers with every blink. A gust of wind rustles hair and clothes, but the three continue to sleep.
It’s just as uneventful in their dreams. They’ve regrouped there too, wading through waist-high grass to catch each other’s attention. None of them have seen this place before (they think). The wind blows, and the grasses bend as one like ocean waves. Sometimes the ends tickle their faces as the stalks rush back upright. On the Somniel, Leif squeezes his eyes shut a little tighter against an onslaught of dry, long leaves. There’s no telling what is underfoot as they walk. The grasslands are denser than Elusian snow. It extends outward in all directions, without anything in sight to tell them where they’re headed or where they came from. The three could walk in circles and never know it. In the dream, they don’t remember their experiment, don’t stop to confirm that their theories are validated. Here, everything exists as it does without need for a why or how. Unlikely as it is to find anything here, they keep walking anyway. More walking, pushing aside endless grass. The three don’t talk much. They’re eager to push ahead to see what the dream will give them.
In the end, it leads to nothing. Alear’s eyes open, unfocused and watery. It’s so dark that Alear has to stare to focus his vision. It must be the early hours of the morning, still well before sunrise. He looks to either side to find Seliph and Leif watching him, so alert that the only proof that they were ever asleep at all are the bits of grass that have landed in their hair. Even in the night, the blue Emblem irises seem to glow.
“I don’t think I can go back to sleep,” Alear admits. This experiment has thrown his routine off-kilter. He makes no move to rise. The sky is dark, the stars are pinpricks, and his thoughts are of endless grassland.