He Who Weaves Nightmares | PUBLISHED (Available in Print and eBook Format)

Prologue

"Morpheus! Icelus! Phantasos! In the great hall. Now!!!" Erebus bellowed and his voice shook the walls of the entire castle. He paced furiously in front of his throne that was placed on an elevated platform at the end of the hall. A dark cloud which started from his feet grew bigger the more aggravated he became. His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circles smudged beneath them—the god obviously needed some peace if not a stretch of sleep.

His wife, Nyx, sat serenely on her chair on the dais. She was softly humming a lullaby to a large translucent pearl which she held in her hands. The pearl was her bridge to all the sleeping infants in the world.

Phantasos was the first to enter the room. He chose to appear in his teenage form with his slender built, wide baby blue eyes and long golden hair tied neatly away from his face. His light grey wings seemed even fairer than usual and they glowed in the gloom of the chamber. He was prepared to play the innocent card.

Icelus closely followed his brother, but his head was down and his unruly brown hair covered his moss green eyes. His massive leathery wings hung from his wide shoulders and their tips scraped the floor as he dragged the sinewy featherless appendages across the hall. His clawed hands closed into fists and he ignored the pain his talons caused as they cut into his palms. He carried nothing but guilt as he stood in front of his parents.

Erebus stopped pacing and turned to glare at his two sons. The black cloud that shadowed him had now reached the infinite ceiling of the room. He allowed an age to pass and when his eldest remained absent, he roared, "Morpheus! I am going to limit your transformations to single-celled creatures if you do not show up this instant!"

"Hold your pegasoi. I was just weaving the most exquisite dream for Aphrodite. It involved a devilishly handsome god with majestic black wings."

Morpheus, the tallest of the brothers, nonchalantly adjusted the knot of his Windsor as he crossed the threshold in his signature dark suit. His hair was the color of the night and his great black wings glittered like his silver eyes. He believed his mother had bestowed all the beauty of the dusk to him and did not leave much to his brothers. He acknowledged though that Icelus inherited their father's broad shoulders and grimness. Phantasos, on the other hand, was perchance adopted.

Once all three were standing in front of the dais—the first with wide innocent eyes, the second with hunched shoulders of remorse, and the third with a bored expression on his face—Nyx set the pearl back in its shell and rose from her seat. She gently placed a hand on her husband's shoulder and he turned to look at her pale face. She gave him a brief nod, urging him to sit, and the murky mist that surrounded him immediately shrank into nothingness as he followed her counsel.

The mother looked at her children and narrowed her eyes. It was a look that terrified even Morpheus although he would never admit it.

In a quiet voice, Nyx stated her sons' sins, "In a foolish attempt to prevent one beast's death, you caused the extinction of an entire ethnic community."

Nyx looked at her second son and continued, "Icelus, you fashioned the white elephant in the hunter's dream in a manner that triggered not man's fear, but his greed. Instead of making the creature appear monstrous in a nightmare, you made man covet its ivory even more. The white elephant was the last of its kind and had been worshipped and protected by the Brekahur tribe for centuries. Regrettably, the white elephant and the Brekahur were defenseless against the hunter and his armed team."

"Icelus made a mistake and he's sorry. We lost a thousand souls that were headed to Hades anyway since the remaining elephant only had a few years left and those people would've followed it to the grave," Morpheus said imperturbably, but his mother fixed her gaze at him and he promptly shushed and took a step back.

"My arrogant Morpheus," Nyx enunciated, "You exacerbated the situation by entering man's dream as a patronizing wildlife expert in your ridiculous khaki pants and matching shirt. What were you thinking? This sort of man does not listen to any conscience. If anything, you successfully irked him to carry out the genocide sooner."

"I knew I should've entered that blasted dream as a Victoria's Secret model," Morpheus muttered.

"It wouldn't have worked. The hunter is not interested in women."

Phantasos snickered as his brothers squirmed in guilt. He had tried to fix things, but it had been too late when he joined the nightmare his brothers had created.

"And you, my sweet, sweet Phantasos," Nyx crooned, "My youngest and possibly most naïve child, sealed everyone's fate by making the visions surreal. You had empowered man by blending fact and fantasy. Instead of abandoning the plan because you introduced blood-red elephants with algae-ridden incisors, you made man desire the beast more. He did not see blood or kelp. Instead, he envisaged rubies and emeralds."

Erebus was enraged once again after hearing his sons' idiocy recounted. He stood up and an opaque haze swelled behind him. "You'd think that after doing this for thousands of years, you three would learn to be more responsible!"

Nyx blew her husband a kiss and he sat down again, momentarily placated. Then she announced her children's fate, "As penance, the three of you will be stripped of your powers and be reborn as humans. You will age as slowly as humans do and will only earn your powers gradually as you get older, depending if you deserve to regain your gift to weave dreams."

"Can't you just send us to Hades?" Morpheus suggested. He didn't mind spending a few decades with the lovely Persephone.

"Wouldn't you like that," Erebus growled. "You know you're not welcome in the underworld after that disgraceful exploit you pulled to get Hades' wife's attention. Be grateful that the three of you get to stay together."

"Grateful? These two miscreants ruffle my feathers," Morpheus grumbled.

"O hush, brother," Phantasos uttered. "Father is right. We should be grateful. I'm eager to mingle with the humans!"

"Of course you are, you sycophant. You would love to return to your real roots," Morpheus goaded.

Icelus, who had his head down since he entered the room, finally raised his eyes to look at his parents. "Mother, this is my fault. Let me carry this burden."

Nyx gave her son a level look and said, "Shush, child. Stop being humble. It doesn't suit you."

Morpheus knew it was a losing battle so he started whining. "But what about my beautiful wings?"

"Have you ever seen a human baby born with wings?" was Nyx's clipped response.

"What about the hunter? It is not fair that he lives, enjoying the fruits of his debauchery while we suffer the consequences of our good intentions," Morpheus tried again.

"He will eventually perish and pay the price for his wickedness," Nyx replied.

"But who's going to weave the dreams while we're out of commission?"

"Your father will."

"But I have a reputation to maintain and Father will just draw stick figures instead of those beautiful pieces I weave!" At this point, Morpheus was starting to sound like a belligerent adolescent.

Erebus had heard enough wailing to last him an epoch. He lifted himself from his throne and thundered, "Enough!!! Sleep."