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It isn't a secret this mind's shrouded in history/
It isn't a secret this mind spirals in disarray/
It isn't a secret this mind shudders in mystery/
It isn't a secret I find terror in memory/
Come close. Don't be afraid,/
It's stranger than you think/
Desperately opiate, weary/
Feverish host to us, teary eyed/
History hexes us./
- Tesseract - "Hexes"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRsjlOOIylg
Planet Ereas
Carina Nebula
Carina-Sagittarius Arm
7,137 lightyears from Earth
It had been more than a half-decade since Daeja had allowed herself to think about this place. For most her life, the Forbidden Glade was mere folklore. It was inevitable result of legend living on and eventually thriving in the hearts of the few who chose to believe in its veracity. At least, up until the lynx turned twelve, that was all it was: fictitious. But then she did the impossible. The girl had stumbled across the myth itself upon waking from a coma. Daeja had found it with such ease and expediency that its legendary status was positively ridiculous in retrospect. It was but a short distance from her colony. If she had known where to look all along, Daeja would have found it in an afternoon’s hike. But then again, she was never meant to find it. Nobody was supposed to know just where to uncover it. The Glade remained mythic for a reason. In the end, the reason behind its ethereal status was much more sinister than she would have dared imagined previously.
“I’ll know it once I find the clearing,” she murmured as if dreading exposure. But even if somebody else was eavesdropping, they’d still be unlikely to obstruct her trance.
Even though the detail surrounding her was stunningly credible and convincing in almost every aspect. Absolutely none of it was real. Here inside this splendid dreamscape, everything was but a mirage.
In lieu of what happened, Daeja tried to create as much distance between herself and her newfound discovery as her mind could possibly conceive. The memories of what happened that night were still striking in their lurid detail and profoundly upsetting upon reflection. At twelve years-old, the lynx had embarked on an experiment to hypothetically open a portal to realms many would have argued were as fictitious as any other childhood fable. But even if it sent her into a coma, the trial was worth the risks involved. Anything to an open a door back home.
A home that was once her own in a lifetime she once knew.
In her mind, the lynx had lost him again. Tyson was erased a second time that night when those masked men abducted his analog: a cosmic castaway. He spoke English, the skunk she found in these old ruins. At the time, it was a language Daeja had not heard outside sleep in four years’ time. The vision she beheld during that coma directed her toward the remnants of a long-lost civilization. It was here in this fabled locale where she found him maimed and afraid. Shane. In a tongue she dreamt would never hear again, was the name he gave her: Shane Knight. And just like Tyson, she could not save him.
“The entrance was near the center. That’s how we got out."
It always tugged at her heartstrings to ruminate on what she lost. But it didn’t take Daeja many years to learn that no good came from consistently dwelling upon past misfortune. Incessantly contemplating Tyson’s disappearance did little else but tax her conscience. And while Daeja knew she was not to blame for his possession, but the lynx had never accepted the notion she was unable to help. Even when backed into a corner, one could still vanquish demons.
One could always do more.
“Almost got out,” she stressed as her right paw found support on a most peculiar object.
Shifting focus, Daeja faced what she had inadvertently unearthed. Glistening in the low light, she revealed the first lamppost of many that would assuredly lead her down the path of discovery.
“An obsidian pillar,” the lynx said, trying to stifle her surprise in effort to remain grounded.
She then turned around a took a step back to gain a better vantage point, but there was little reason to distrust what her eyes verified with such acuity.
“It’s not far now,” Daeja ascertained, stepping back a few more paces, “The way back inside should be just around—“
The girl gasped as her bootheel struck what felt like a body. Nearly tripping in her haste, Daeja promptly surmised that was just what she’d come across on this night’s expedition. A faint gurgling sound could be heard from below as the full moon unveiled the source.
“Oh my God,” the lynx breathed, dropping to her knees.
Upon inspection, Daeja observed that the man—whoever he was and wherever he came from—was dying. That much was definitively determinable. Cradling the man’s head inside the crook of her left arm, the lynx examined the clearly visible chest wound and made a snap judgment. She placed her right paw over his profusely bleeding heart and summoned the strength of all her amassed magic collected in the keepsake she always wore around her neck.
A constant reminder of the best friend she left behind.
“If you can hear me,” the girl appealed, channeling her therapeutic magic through her right paw, “focus on my voice. I’m throwing you a lifeline. Grab hold and don’t let go.”
It did not matter one iota that this man, a feline of questionable origin, looked somewhat menacing with his all-black attire, long hair and spooky pallor. In her mind, his appearance was ultimately irrelevant. What mattered most in this moment was that he required assistance. The lynx knew from past attempts that even if what she endured was the product of a dream, she could still be hurt while navigating those uncharted waters.
If she were in this predicament, even if the odds of success were infinitesimal, Daeja would have wanted somebody to try for her sake, too.
“You don’t know my name,” she insisted with an optimistic yet distressed expression, “but know that I’m here to help.”
I want to take this time to thank the great
aerokat for allowing me to put her character in danger for the sake of this piece. This was an idea I'd wanted to see come to life for some time now, and I'm incredibly grateful to have received more fabulous art from her. So please, search out her page and you will see just what other cool stuff she can do! If you're at all interested, then feel free to check out her Patreon while you're at it.
You can find it by clicking this link:
https://www.patreon.com/poecatcomix/posts
Daeja is featured in In the Shadow of Your Horns as a main character. If you're eager to learn more about her and read the whole story so far, then feel free to look into my Penana page here, as well:
https://www.penana.com/user/1057/nazcapilot
Dream Creeper is © aerokat
Daeja LaBrie is ©
nazcapilot
It isn't a secret this mind spirals in disarray/
It isn't a secret this mind shudders in mystery/
It isn't a secret I find terror in memory/
Come close. Don't be afraid,/
It's stranger than you think/
Desperately opiate, weary/
Feverish host to us, teary eyed/
History hexes us./
- Tesseract - "Hexes"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WRsjlOOIylg
Planet Ereas
Carina Nebula
Carina-Sagittarius Arm
7,137 lightyears from Earth
It had been more than a half-decade since Daeja had allowed herself to think about this place. For most her life, the Forbidden Glade was mere folklore. It was inevitable result of legend living on and eventually thriving in the hearts of the few who chose to believe in its veracity. At least, up until the lynx turned twelve, that was all it was: fictitious. But then she did the impossible. The girl had stumbled across the myth itself upon waking from a coma. Daeja had found it with such ease and expediency that its legendary status was positively ridiculous in retrospect. It was but a short distance from her colony. If she had known where to look all along, Daeja would have found it in an afternoon’s hike. But then again, she was never meant to find it. Nobody was supposed to know just where to uncover it. The Glade remained mythic for a reason. In the end, the reason behind its ethereal status was much more sinister than she would have dared imagined previously.
“I’ll know it once I find the clearing,” she murmured as if dreading exposure. But even if somebody else was eavesdropping, they’d still be unlikely to obstruct her trance.
Even though the detail surrounding her was stunningly credible and convincing in almost every aspect. Absolutely none of it was real. Here inside this splendid dreamscape, everything was but a mirage.
In lieu of what happened, Daeja tried to create as much distance between herself and her newfound discovery as her mind could possibly conceive. The memories of what happened that night were still striking in their lurid detail and profoundly upsetting upon reflection. At twelve years-old, the lynx had embarked on an experiment to hypothetically open a portal to realms many would have argued were as fictitious as any other childhood fable. But even if it sent her into a coma, the trial was worth the risks involved. Anything to an open a door back home.
A home that was once her own in a lifetime she once knew.
In her mind, the lynx had lost him again. Tyson was erased a second time that night when those masked men abducted his analog: a cosmic castaway. He spoke English, the skunk she found in these old ruins. At the time, it was a language Daeja had not heard outside sleep in four years’ time. The vision she beheld during that coma directed her toward the remnants of a long-lost civilization. It was here in this fabled locale where she found him maimed and afraid. Shane. In a tongue she dreamt would never hear again, was the name he gave her: Shane Knight. And just like Tyson, she could not save him.
“The entrance was near the center. That’s how we got out."
It always tugged at her heartstrings to ruminate on what she lost. But it didn’t take Daeja many years to learn that no good came from consistently dwelling upon past misfortune. Incessantly contemplating Tyson’s disappearance did little else but tax her conscience. And while Daeja knew she was not to blame for his possession, but the lynx had never accepted the notion she was unable to help. Even when backed into a corner, one could still vanquish demons.
One could always do more.
“Almost got out,” she stressed as her right paw found support on a most peculiar object.
Shifting focus, Daeja faced what she had inadvertently unearthed. Glistening in the low light, she revealed the first lamppost of many that would assuredly lead her down the path of discovery.
“An obsidian pillar,” the lynx said, trying to stifle her surprise in effort to remain grounded.
She then turned around a took a step back to gain a better vantage point, but there was little reason to distrust what her eyes verified with such acuity.
“It’s not far now,” Daeja ascertained, stepping back a few more paces, “The way back inside should be just around—“
The girl gasped as her bootheel struck what felt like a body. Nearly tripping in her haste, Daeja promptly surmised that was just what she’d come across on this night’s expedition. A faint gurgling sound could be heard from below as the full moon unveiled the source.
“Oh my God,” the lynx breathed, dropping to her knees.
Upon inspection, Daeja observed that the man—whoever he was and wherever he came from—was dying. That much was definitively determinable. Cradling the man’s head inside the crook of her left arm, the lynx examined the clearly visible chest wound and made a snap judgment. She placed her right paw over his profusely bleeding heart and summoned the strength of all her amassed magic collected in the keepsake she always wore around her neck.
A constant reminder of the best friend she left behind.
“If you can hear me,” the girl appealed, channeling her therapeutic magic through her right paw, “focus on my voice. I’m throwing you a lifeline. Grab hold and don’t let go.”
It did not matter one iota that this man, a feline of questionable origin, looked somewhat menacing with his all-black attire, long hair and spooky pallor. In her mind, his appearance was ultimately irrelevant. What mattered most in this moment was that he required assistance. The lynx knew from past attempts that even if what she endured was the product of a dream, she could still be hurt while navigating those uncharted waters.
If she were in this predicament, even if the odds of success were infinitesimal, Daeja would have wanted somebody to try for her sake, too.
“You don’t know my name,” she insisted with an optimistic yet distressed expression, “but know that I’m here to help.”
I want to take this time to thank the great
aerokat for allowing me to put her character in danger for the sake of this piece. This was an idea I'd wanted to see come to life for some time now, and I'm incredibly grateful to have received more fabulous art from her. So please, search out her page and you will see just what other cool stuff she can do! If you're at all interested, then feel free to check out her Patreon while you're at it. You can find it by clicking this link:
https://www.patreon.com/poecatcomix/posts
Daeja is featured in In the Shadow of Your Horns as a main character. If you're eager to learn more about her and read the whole story so far, then feel free to look into my Penana page here, as well:
https://www.penana.com/user/1057/nazcapilot
Dream Creeper is ©
aerokatDaeja LaBrie is ©
nazcapilot
Category Artwork (Digital) / General Furry Art
Species Feline (Other)
Size 1224 x 792px
File Size 917.2 kB
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