Low Key Eldritch

[SeekerOfLife]

First of the Forty-four tenets: Reality isn't Real​

Yes. I know. That doesn't make any sense. Bla Bla Bla. Well did you know that the universe is nothing but a waking dream of The God of literal Gods?

No? Well yes. It is. Imagine, everything and everyone that you will ever come to know of and care about could be erased from, well...existence. By a being beginning to open their metaphorical eyes. So to speak.

But hold on for a second. Before you go off into a depressive episode due to an existential crisis about what you just read, know that this is actually a good thing!

How?

Let's go through a bit of logical reasoning here.

Reality is a dream. Therefore, reality in and of itself is not real. Because dreams are not real.

Notice how both instances of the word 'dream' are italicised in the above statements. Please keep this in mind before you continue.

Now we move on to the rather confusing bit.

Dreams are real. Therefore in opposition to the very tenet you are studying. Reality is real.

Reality - also what is known as 'The Waking Dream' - is not immutable. That is what gives it the property of simultaneously being Real and Unreal. True and False. A One and A Zero.

This property allows individuals to vary the 'realness' of the very reality they inhabit. Gaining the ability to whisper to trees and have them reply. To walk through keyholes. To turn into ravens.
To shatter the concept of the space around them and shunt themselves through folds in the Creator's veil.

All with a single word.​

And that is what you will learn to do. By the time you are done reading through this journal you will be a corporeal god amongst insects.

However, the path to power will not be easy. For if you falter even once in your journey you will cease to exist. As the very abilities- the hidden knowledge you seek to uncover will rend your soul apart.

Although, I assume that you already know this. As your opening of the book is enough to count as agreement to start learning how to unravel the waking dream and ascend to a higher form of being.

Whatever that may be.

This will be the first and last time I ever truly explain what you are getting into; you will find the remainder of the first chapter below this message.

Good luck.

∴​

The blaring of her alarm roused Cassandra from her fixation on the worn pages of the spiral bound notebook laying open on her desk. She cast a look around her room and realised she had stayed up all night reading and re-reading the same opening passage to truly understand whether what she was seeing was real.

Well... according to the ravings of a madman on the page she spent an entire night studying, the words were both real and unreal.

She snorted. "Damn. I really need to stop staying up so late."

With a yawn she got up, hoping that a shower with near scalding water would wake her up a bit before she had to head out.

Almost an hour later while seated in homeroom, Cassandra realised that there was no way she was going to make it through the rest of the school day without passing out from pure exhaustion.

She groaned and slumped into her desk with a cloud of despair hovering above her head.

Just in time for the bell signalling the start of first period to ring.

"Ugh…" Chairs screeched as their occupants stood up, tucked them back in and shuffled off to their classes.

Cassandra made her way through the halls until she reached her dreaded destination.

English Literature.

Moving to her seat smack dab in the centre of a nondescript classroom she collapsed into her chair, laid her head down on a desk and prepared to snooze until Mr Smith started the lecture.

Then she got poked in the small of her back, causing her to jump as if jabbed with a needle.

She turned with a glare to the grinning dumbass who sat to her left.

"Hey Cass..." He drawled out teasingly. "Rough night?"

"Fuck off, Finn. Your hands are freezing."

"My hands are freezing? You look dead. Someone needs to keep you on ice before you start stinking up the classroom."

"Oh ha ha. Make fun of my horrible sleeping habits while I'm suffering over here contemplating my survival through Smith's lecture. Let alone how I'll make it to lunch."

The grin widened. "Oh dear. Am I about to lose a friend to the cold embrace of death before I reach eighteen?"

His reply was a very rude gesture made with one hand and a single finger.

He let out a bark of laughter. Then his impending retort was cut off-

"Alright everyone! Settle down!"

-by her knight in shining armour. Good old Mr Smith.

∴​

Two hours passed relatively quickly, finding the duo strolling towards the cafeteria.

"So… What kept you up last night? Books again?"

"Yeah- Kinda." Her brow quirked as she put her thoughts in order. "It was only one book though. One page really."

"Oh?" A single blond eyebrow was raised. "One page kept you transfixed long into the night? Do tell."

Cassandra huffed. Her sudden exhale blowing dark strands out of her face.

"I bought a new notebook last week. Y'know from Hartley's?"

"Yeah mhm."

They walked through the main entrance to the cafeteria, adjusting their course to the nearest empty table.

"Yeah, well-ugh" A grunt as she lobbed her satchel onto the table. "-well imagine my surprise when I find words already written into it."

"Ha!"

"But that's not even the worst part. The things written into the book sounded like a fever dream of a Cthulhu Mythos addict. Talking about reality being both real and a dream at the same time."

"Oooh, trippy." His wandering eyes focused on hers. Ice-blue meeting hazel brown. "That still doesn't explain why you stayed up all night reading a book.

Cassandra's mouth flopped open, then closed. Her eyes narrowed.

"I-Ah-I don-" A deep breath. "Hah." An exhale. "It… was weird. The pages were crumpled, not from squeezing them but from… like... use. From someone flipping through pages over time, wearing imprints into the pages."

"But the book is new."

"Yeah."

The bitch rolled his eyes. "Well-" The bell rang. "-oof. Well bye. Don't kill yourself without me~"

It was Cassandra's turn to roll her eyes as the slender boy stalked off to class.

"Yeah, whatever. Have fun in chemistry!"

With another laugh, Finn waved at her over his shoulder. Her eyes stopped following the back of his head as he disappeared into the crowd, never to be seen again… until lunch. She turned to where her bag was left on the table and reached for it.

"Hope I didn't forget any- oh you are actually fucking kidding me. Didn't I leave this at home?"

Holding the aforementioned notebook, her head slowly sunk to the table with a longsuffering groan.

"Damn it."

∴​

Now, let us continue.

Knowledge of the true nature of reality is useless without the ability to do anything with that knowledge.

Reality can be altered through a multitude of ways. However, they all fall under three main categories.

These include: The way of sight, The art of breath and The use of truth.

Or as they're more simply known: Sight, Sound and Soul.

However, before we can get into specific details about any of the schools of magic, we need to attune your senses to the perception of thauma. I find that this is best done by… throwing you into the deep end. So to speak.

Your task is to visualise a change and make it occur in reality. Whether it is to make walls see-through or mend cuts in clothing with naught but a wave of your hands is up to you. There are three steps you need to take to achieve this:

• Visualisation
• Specification
• Manifestation

Imagine what you want to happen.

Define exactly how the act should occur. Decide its strengths and limits.

Make it happen. Focus on the borders between your vessel and that of the waking dream. Blur them, make dream into reality.

Do this and then… we can really get started.

∴​

Leaning heavily on her desk, Cassandra covers her mouth as she yawns. The droning tones of the art teacher's voice acting as a pleasant background noise to all who slumber. Not really helping those who actually want to stay awake in class however.

Cassandra tilts her head glancing at the clock above Madame Ranier's desk, hopeful for time to skip between present time and the end of school.

With a sigh, Cassandra raises her hand. "Madame Ranier, may I please be excused?"

The woman does not even stop in her instruction as she waves her hand, signalling for Cassandra to go.

"Thank you, Madame." She stands from her chair as quietly as she can and plods over to the exit and into the hallway. Her feet take her to the furthest bathroom she could realistically get to without being harassed by hall monitors on her way there.

Short, plodding steps echo in empty hallways to the melody of muffled voices escaping from closed classroom doors. The noise is background music to her toiling thoughts as Cassandra thinks about the book that's invaded her life so suddenly.

The words- so obviously that of a madman- are so captivating. Pulling her in until time slips between her fingers and her only escape from the passages are outside intervention. It's terrifying and yet… addicting. She loves it and yet is scared that further interaction with the book won't end well for her.

She wishes she could stop, but the book is really one of the first things that Cassandra has been interested in for a while.

The entrance to the girl's toilets opens with little fanfare. Moving over to the sinks, Cassandra stares at herself. Brown eyes appraising herself. Dark brown skin, round -apparently doe-like - eyes and a somewhat small nose to finish the look.

She's been called pretty before, but the near-black bags under her eyes and forehead the size of Jupiter go a long way to counter that.

She continues looking at herself. Her gaze going back down to her eyes, There's something different about her irises.

Their colour hasn't changed but they're deeper, darker.

Unsettling.

The bell rings, once again interrupting her musings. She blinks and looks back at her reflection but… nothing seems out of the ordinary. Not like before, anyways.

She leaves the bathroom. Short, fast strides covering ground until she's back at the classroom in record time. As she steps in she's stopped by Madame Ranier.

Cassandra turns to face her. "Yes Madame?"

"Cassandra, ask one of your classmates about the assignment I gave the class before leaving. It is due on Thursday." Then the instructor is out the door before Cassandra can even utter a thank you.

"Damn. That's harsh." Turning once again she finds herself face to chest with Finn. "But you know what they say about the French eh…"

"..." She looked up into his grinning face. Unimpressed.

"Eeeeeeeeh…" His grin somehow got wider… as usual.

"..." Her expression didn't change

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeh…"

Another addition to one of the day's many sighs. "What Finn? What do they say about the French?"

"That they're rather rude."

"That's all?" Cassandra asked, deadpan.

His reply was just as irritating as she expected it to be. "Yuuup. So… you ready to go home or are you going to sleep in the basement and become Springwater High's resident goblin?"

"Hah…" Sigh 2: Return of the sighs. "Yeah whatever. Let me get my bag first and ask someone what the homework is."

"You have to make a powerpoint for a presentation on the impact Pablo Picasso's art had on the industry from when he was alive til today." Finn said while shoving her satchel into her face.

"How'd you-"

"I have friends in this class aside from you, Cass. They sent me a text complaining about it before I got here."

"And my bag?"

"Lexy handed it to me while your depressed ass was staring into my soul."

"Lexy?"

"The dude who sits next to you in most of your classes. Average height, brown hair, green eyes…" Cassandra had no sign of recollection in her gaze. "Ugh. Glasses."

"Ohhhh."

"You know you're gonna hurt his feelings one day when he finds out you can only remember who he is from the fact that he wears glasses. I mean what if he gets contacts? Will you just not know who he is?"

"Screw you Finn. You call him 'Lexy'."

"He finds it funny when I pick a fight with someone and tell them that my friend 'Lexy' is going to beat them into the ground. Then they find 'Alexander'. The dude who makes bullies stop bullying people by bullying them even harder."

The smallest of smiles appeared on her face and Cassandra knew Finn noticed by the sparkle in his eyes.

She was going to just start moving and leave the goof in her dust when she realised that at some point in their conversation they had started walking and were almost at the school's entrance.

She narrowed her eyes and knew that she needed to rectify this grave error.

She walked even faster and left Finn behind. To his delight if the peals of laughter were anything to say about it.

∴​

"Bye Cass!" Crowed Finn as he watched his short friend waddle her way past the throng of students and into the parking lot. The grin slipped off his face as he thought about the conversation he had with Cassandra earlier in the day.

She seemed even less aware of things than usual and the things she said about the book were rather…worrying.

If it was anyone else who was telling him this he'd think it was a joke…but Cassandra doesn't make jokes like that. Finn feels like he should believe her but what she told him sounds outlandish at best or like psychosis induced ramblings at worst.

He dragged a hand down his face as if to wipe the stress off of his body. An exhale.

His hand twitched as if to reach for his phone but stopped before the action could even begin.

He'll wait and see. If it's all just a one time thing then he'll have cause to stop worrying, but if it isn't…

He'll do what he needs to.

Even if Cass hates him afterwards.

∴​

Cassandra was slouched in her seat as the school bus made its rounds through its evening route. Her eyes taking in the moving houses, greenery and people going through their lives for reasons she was not privy to.

Tilting her head she looked down the aisle of the bus. Hearing but not able to see the joy and excitement of her peers as they were able to wind down and chat with friends after another day at school.

Grimacing, her sight was aimed right back out the window. She fidgeted, forcing herself to sit up and crossing one leg across the other. Bag on her lap and fingers drumming a steady rhythm into blue leather Cassandra closed her eyes.

"-i! Kid! Wake up!"

She blinked and sniffled. Her eyes widened in realisation-

"Reyes. You aren't the only one who's tired. Kindly get off the bus so I can get to bed as well."

Heart pounding as her face heated up, she apologised and hurried off the bus. Once on the pavement she patted her jeans pockets, nodded and walked up the street to her home.

Unlocking the door she put on the lights and made her way straight to the kitchen. At the centre was a marble counter with a bowl of fake fruit placed upon it. Lifting the bowl, Cassandra saw a note.

'Night shift again! I bought groceries while you were at school. Feel free to make anything you want for dinner. I'll see you tomorrow morning dear. ~Love ya.'

The message was accompanied tastefully with a heart. Cassandra rolled her eyes with a small smile on her face.

"Love ya too mom."

Flipping the note over she writes:

'Won't be eating dinner. I plan to sink to the bottom of the bathtub then leap straight to bed. I'll dream happy dreams for the both of us though!
~Goodnight.'

One smiley face later, the note was slid back under the bowl and the lights were switched off.

Moving upstairs and down the hallway Cassandra finds herself in her room. Dropping her satchel on the hardwood floors and pulling off her purple hoodie she chucks it in the vague direction she knows her bed to be in before groping her way to the bathroom.

Once again switching on the lights she plugs the bathtub drain closed and begins to fill it with hot water. The bathroom quickly fills up with steam as she divests herself of the rest of her clothing. Pushing the tap to start running cold water she dumps all the clothes in a hamper then hangs a new towel on the door.

Turning off the tap, Cassandra sinks into the hot water with a sigh, relaxing her muscles as everything below her neck was submerged. She closed her eyes, not in slumber but contemplation. Remembering the task set for her by the book, she wondered if now would be the perfect time to try it.

She snorted.

"Alright. I'll give it a shot."

She breathed in deeply, filling her lungs to their limits. She exhaled, releasing the accumulated air in a single stretched out gust of wind. Repeating the cycle she decided on manifesting a flame from her palms.

She thought back to the times that she and Finn got a hold of matches and set piles of cracked leaves alight in fall. The orange flames stretching higher and moving further as more fuel was added to the conflagration. The heat and smell of smoke growing ever more present.

In and out the air went. Pushing and pulling. The oxygen in her lungs diminishing and being replaced with each cycle.

Cassandra felt a warmth in her chest. A heat emerging from her heart, unfolding outwards. Up to her shoulders, down her arms and into her hands.

Lifting them from the water below she cupped them together. The flow of heat kept flowing to her hands. Concentrating in her palms, an instinct she never knew she had made her push the energy outwards.

Upwards.

There was an instant change. The warmth she felt not only came from inside but hovered above her palms as well.

With a surety that she knew should be misplaced, she deemed her task complete.

Cassandra opened her eyes and found a fist sized ball of fire cupped between her palms. It released an ethereal light, constantly shuffling from colour to colour until it settled on a mix between aquamarine and violet. Impossibly being both of its constituent colours at the same time.

The otherworldly flame pulsed to a rhythm to a song unheard as it grew and shrank to her breaths.

Eyes widening and arms shaking from the exertion of holding themselves up, Cassandra gaped.

She conveyed the only words in her mind with a whisper.

"Holy shit."
​