Phantom Limb

Aether stirred, eyelids fluttering open to a hazy dreamscape. Trees loomed in the soft twilight, their outlines stretching outwards, their shadows casting a surreal, bluish hue across the landscape.

He blinked, shifting slightly as he took in the otherworldly atmosphere with a small, sleepy grin.

"Well... this turned out bigger than I thought," Aether muttered, stretching his arm above his head as he straightened, becoming more aware of the bizarre, boundless landscape around him.

Aether took a breath, inhaling deeply as he glanced around with a newfound realization. "I mean... I am dreaming," he murmured, his voice trailing off as he watched the landscape ripple slightly, responding to his words as if attuned to his very thoughts. A lazy grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Let me enjoy this for a while."

Around him, the place began to shift, subtly at first—rocks rearranged themselves, smoothening into marble-like stones as the ground softened into a bed of moss, radiating a faint warmth. His surroundings seemed to blur and stretch, bending to his unspoken desires.

Trees grew taller, their trunks thickening, their canopies rising high above, and deep shades of green began to swirl into view, filling the once-muted landscape with vibrant, rich colors.

"Much better," he said, admiring the transformed landscape. "Feels like a dream worth staying in." Aether nodded with satisfaction as the dreamscape settled into the shape of his imagining. There wasn't a drastic change to the forest-like landscape, but there was one significant addition—a tree, standing alone in the distance.

It was extraordinarily tall and slender, its trunk stretching so high that it seemed to pierce the very fabric of this strange dream realm. The tree breached the boundaries of the world, as though defying any limits his mind might impose.

Aether rolled his shoulders, feeling the tension melt away as he began to jump slightly, stretching his muscles in the surreal environment. He could feel a lightness to his body, as though gravity were only a faint suggestion here, a thought that made him smile wider. This world responded to his thoughts, and that in itself was exhilarating.

Looking down, he lifted his right arm, flexing it with an appreciative nod, and then turned to his left, rolling back his empty sleeve. He paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he let the sleeve drop. This was his dream, after all.

With a focused breath, he gazed at his left shoulder, willing an arm to grow from the stump. At first, there was nothing. But slowly, warmth began to gather at the end of his shoulder, and he watched as an arm took shape—fingers, sinew, and muscle all forming smoothly as if being drawn into existence by an invisible artist. Aether's eyes widened as its amber light emerged; he rolled up his newly-formed sleeve with satisfaction.

But as he examined the arm, he noticed small wisps of it beginning to fray and dissolve into the air, as if the dream's hold on the image wasn't quite strong enough to maintain it. He pressed his lips together, focusing harder, but to no avail; the arm slowly dissipated, vanishing before his eyes until only the familiar stump remained.

"It's my dream! Isn't it?" he hissed through clenched teeth, frustration burning in his chest. His brow furrowed, and he closed his eyes, concentrating with renewed determination.

This time, as he tried again, his left arm took on different forms, each shifting and morphing in a disorienting sequence—a crab claw, sharp and cumbersome, replaced by a wolf's paw, soft yet imposing, and finally a claw that looked eerily draconic, with scales shimmering faintly in the muted light. Yet, just as quickly as they appeared, each form flickered out, vanishing into thin air, leaving only the stump, as if his subconscious rejected the lie. He didn't want to wake with something real only to find it gone, yet he couldn't accept its absence.

"Can't catch a break, even in my own head," Aether spat, kicking at the ground in frustration. He tried again and again, each failure stoking the anger burning in his chest. "What's the point of having control if I can't even fix this?"

With a resigned yet determined sigh, Aether glanced up at the colossal tree towering above him.

"Alright, then," he muttered. "Let's see how far I get without one."

He reached up, gripping one of the lower branches, and began to climb. His first attempt ended quickly—his grip slipped, and he tumbled backward, landing hard on the moss below.

"Perfect," he growled, pushing himself back up. The second try wasn't much better; his body swayed precariously before he lost his balance again.

"Come on!" he snarled, his voice echoing through the dreamscape as he made his third attempt. This time he managed to get a better grip, his movements slow and deliberate, each muscle tensing as he pulled himself upward. The bark bit into his palm, rough and unforgiving, but he pressed on, finding precarious footholds along the way.

His progress was painfully slow, each movement a careful calculation. Several times he nearly fell, his single hand cramping from the strain of supporting his entire weight.

"Just... a bit... higher," he panted, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cool air. The tree seemed to stretch endlessly upward, its top lost in a haze of leaves and mist.

With each branch he climbed, the air around him grew cooler, sharper, and the light filtered through in thinner strands. The leaves rustled softly, but now they seemed to mock his struggles rather than encourage them. He glanced down at his left arm—or lack thereof—and tried once more, reaching inward to his core, willing an arm into existence.

"Just once... just stay..." he whispered, a note of desperation in his voice. The limb appeared, a translucent, ghostly outline, and he reached for the next branch with it, his expression flickering with brief hope. But just as he made to pull himself up, the arm flickered and dissolved, its substance scattering into nothingness. "For once, just WORK!" he shouted, his voice raw with frustration.

He tried again, forcing his focus onto his left side as he climbed. The arm reappeared, this time taking the shape of a talon, its sharp edges glinting in the faint light. He moved to grip the tree with it, only to feel the limb fade away once more, leaving him grasping empty air. A bitter laugh escaped his lips, tinged with exhaustion and anger.

"J-just work.." he murmured, his voice carrying a note of defeat as he continued his climb, pulling himself upward with his right arm alone. His fingers dug into the bark until they bled, each pull a reminder of his limitations, even in this peculiar dream.

Eventually, after what felt like hours of struggling, he reached one of the tree's massive branches, sprawling outward like a natural bridge, wide enough for him to sit comfortably. He collapsed onto it, chest heaving, his entire body trembling from exertion. As he leaned back against the trunk, feeling its solid warmth beneath him, he looked up—the top of the tree still seemed impossibly far away, lost in the swirling mists above.

"Why am I even trying so hard?" he muttered, feeling the weight of his struggle. "This isn't even real," he wondered aloud, his voice barely a whisper. "Why do I have to prove myself here? There's nothing at all!"

As he sat there, catching his breath, he gazed out at the surreal landscape spread below him. The view was breathtaking, an endless expanse of verdant forest stretching out to meet a distant, hazy horizon. Wisps of mist floated above the treetops, giving the scene an otherworldly quality, as though he were looking out over the edge of reality itself.

As he lay there, nestled among the leaves, a soft, distant voice reached his ears, faint and indistinct, like the murmur of a memory. His brow furrowed slightly, and he tilted his head, straining to hear. The voice was familiar, echoing through the fog of his mind, but it was too faint to make out. Aether's heart quickened, his mind stirring with questions, but as he tried to focus, the voice faded, slipping away like sand through his fingers.

With a weary sigh, he closed his eyes, letting the quiet of the dreamscape wash over him once more. The tree's branches cradled him, the leaves whispering their secrets in the soft language of the wind, a gentle lullaby that soothed his restless mind.

"What's the point of dreaming if nothing changes?" He opened his eyes. "Funny… even dreams don't live up to the hype," he thought as consciousness pulled him back.