My experiment has been incredibly successful.
Dreams have given me insight into mortal worldviews and philosophies that simple, rational facts and context never could.
I have felt the anger as the knife slides between ribs, the delicious taste of revenge watching a traitor’s soul depart from their body.
I have felt the rapturous joy of new life brought into the world before my eyes, the awakening of a new being that will grow under my care.
I have felt the utter despair of abuse and mistreatment, the perception of reality slipping so far that it bends and breaks consciousness itself.
I have felt the euphoria of true fulfillment, the coalescence of a unique vision and years of hard labor into a single piece of work that transcends its form.
Death, birth, trauma, and elation.
The four experiences of mortal life that change fate and push a person onto a new path. Through these lenses, I can see so much further into the universe. The events that lead to decades of war, to the fall of nations, to the rise of new cultures. I see cause and effect like never before.
And as a result, my duty of judgement has never been easier.
Condemnation and forgiveness are simple conclusions to me now. Witnessing the dreams of mortals gives me the perfect cipher to decode the motivation to every action. And as each action ripples out through the universe, I understand every consequence.
I am practically omniscient, but it has come at a cost.
My Creator is gone. And my duty persists.
In the Astral Realm, I do not have a proper means for measuring time like other realms. So I do not know how long I have been left without my Creator. I can only count the number of thoughts I’ve had since I realized He left.
In the dozens, I assumed He would return. I hypothesized that my interference in mortal dreams upset Him in some way, and I looked forward to discussing with Him about the merits of my new method for judging condemnation or forgiveness.
In the hundreds, I began to wonder about my duty. I was still made aware that there were mortals to judge, and I continued my work. If this responsibility continued in His absence, then I can only suppose it was not by His doing that I was given this task. Was He simply present to train me? Was I destined to perform this task alone, once He deemed my skills sufficient?
In the thousands, I began to resent Him. I was given no message, no formal instructions. The moment that I decided to take my responsibilities into my own hands, He had simply vanished. What value did His lessons truly have to me now? In the glorious omniscience I had for mortals, I had nothing but ignorance for my Creator.
In the hundreds of thousands, I left Him behind. There was work to be done, souls to be judged.
In the millions, I had finally decided my judgement for Him: Condemnation.
I remember, somewhere in the millions, another pair of souls whose dreams I was fortunate enough to witness blossoming in the lost city: A bard reborn from a dragon’s soul, and a tiefling sworn to an oath of redemption.
Thank you for reading! The story does not end here, please click one of the hyperlinked phrases in the previous paragraph to continue.
Special thanks to Jonah Cabudol-Chalker for creating the character art and assorted text separators.
Orcanist 