Golden Glade Is all that we see or seem, but a dream within a dream?

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Darkness.

Long before he’d been born, and then long after, he had been surrounded by nothing more than darkness. Cold, endless darkness—he adored it. It was peaceful, filling him with the fading memories of his time spent within the womb. So hazy had they become that he could hardly figure out what was happening within any of them. It mattered little, though he knew not the reason why. For, in truth, the memories were not memories at all. They were nothing more than figments of his imagination, gritty images pieced together by a mind that knew naught the appearance of even his own mother. For blind was the boy to the world around him, but not the one beyond them all. There was nothing that he could not see, when his mind was set upon something. Deep into the depths of his conscious could he sink and be submerged by the darkness that he was so fond of, whilst still having the ability to see all that was around him; only could he ever bear witness to what lurked on other planes, though, since that was a term of his gift.

Forever would he have remained content with what he’d been born with, but it seemed as if the universe—or had it been nature’s decision to make?—was not. Within the night, he’d been awoken by a shift in the air around him. What had caused it, he was never meant to find out, but he was well aware of the fact that something had been there. It’d taken him but a moment to lift his head up and off of his forelimbs, nose pointing upwards as he sought out the being that had forced him out of his sleep. Yet, there was nothing to be felt, the culprit but a phantom on the wind by the time he’d reached for it. It should have frustrated him, but it hadn’t. The Prince’s brows scrunched together and a moment was taken to sniff at the air but, still, there was nothing for him to find. Huffing, he’d started crawling forward, seeking out a space against his mother’s stomach where he might be able to fall back to sleep.

Again, things were not meant to go his way. There were greater forces at work around him, each of which had decided that he could not doze off just yet.

Suddenly, he’d felt a pressure against his eyelids, and then a sensation that he could relate only to how it felt when one of his sister’s nails snagged one of the many rolls in his skin. Never was his flesh torn, just as it wouldn’t be now. Bramble had tried pawing at his face, and made several attempts at chasing the feeling away, but it was there to stay—or so he’d assumed. Without warning, it’d vanished just as abruptly as it'd arrived, but it was not forgotten. In its wake, the boy’s eyes had opened up for the very first time. A wave of emotions crashed over him—fear, confusion, excitement, concern—which had resulted in his mind shutting down momentarily. Once he’d regained all of his functions, he blinked, and then smiled widely as he gazed at the world around him. Everything was so blurry but, at the same time, enticing. Bright were his baby blues, undoubtedly amazed. Giggles spilled out passed his lips, sounding far more similar to gurgling than actual laughter, as he worked to drag himself around with the desire to see everything.

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