He had known she was strong even when she did not believe so.
He had known she was caring and devoted to her people even when so many doubted her
But he did not know just how much she had carried on her shoulders until today.
Peace of mind was a thing of yesterday. The calm of the mirrored lake was gone. Even as he fell asleep and the dream began to take hold, his heart could not stop: a drum like a rolling storm resounding in every one of his bones, a drum who's beat carried through every fiber of muscles of his body and a drum who called for his mind to be set on fire.
Yesterday he fought only for himself and his own dreams. Tonight he would fight for hers, for her people and for their freedom.
Jigoku knew it was loosing and had decided to forgo it's the subtlety: The nightmare came as a ever expending tide of bile, feces, blood and every other vile thing ever brought into form. The stench was indescribable and things, malicious and unformed, lurked below the surface. Spirit intractable, the dragon would not yield to this vision and responded with the only way that was permissible: by inhaling deeply...
...and breathing fire.
The intensity of the inferno consumed everything and the indignant rage of his roar deafened every objection the corrupted forms could make until nothing remained but a suspended cloud of ash and embers.
His heart slowed, changing tune. Now he was free to form his own dream.
He extended a hand, calling to an emotion and a memory, and from the ash was formed a simple sliding door through which he stepped. He was now in Chouri's kitchen.
This hands glided gently on the counter, his fingers remembering the hours of work he had put in to cook meals to please the gentle woman. He had not sought praise, nor favors when he had prepared dinner and supper. He simply wanted to help her, to make her days easier in the rush of the festival. What was more human then the joy of sharing a meal?
Reaching in the pantry he brought out flour, yeast, oil, onions, green chili peppers, garlic and a handful of coriander leaves.
He then took a large bowl and mixed together the wheat flour, one tablespoon oil and water. Kneading the dough nicely for some time he added the yeast little by little. Eventually it came time to leave the dough rest.
While it did so he prepared the stove, got the steaming baskets out and made the filling by chopping the vegetables and mixing them together.
Returning to the dough he made a roll out of it then he divided it into small round shaped pieces and twisted or twirled them a bit to give a flowery pattern before stuffing them and putting them to cook in the steamers.
But bread alone would not make a meal
He opened the door again and he was now in the open fields around the village, the one he had planted in another dream. The people there recognized him and greeted him well. They talked...and talked while they all worked the fields, exchanging their troubles and their joys. Zhe handled and cared for the cattle, walking all over until the harvest came at last.
Giving a hand once more before he gathered what was needed he left the people once more, wishing them well.
The bread was still fresh when he came back to finish preparing the meal for her, for her people.
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The Will Shapes the Dream: The Will Shapes the Dream. Void for 1k1. Paragon of compassion, FR from Wu1, willpower/etiquette | 8k5 ⇒ 35 (TN: 25) pass, 1 FR
The Dream Shapes the Form: The Dream Shapes the Form: void for 1k1, Paragon of compassion, FR from Wu 1, Intel/cooking | 7k5 ⇒ 40 (TN: 25) pass, 1 FR
The Form Shapes the World: Void for 1k1, paragon of compassion, FR from Wu, 2 FR from the previous rolls to reduce difficulty by 15, Intel/Farming (cattle) | 9k5 ⇒ 43 (TN: 25)
Success