In Which Dora Is and Isn't Dreaming

April 30, 1202

What an odd dream this was. Dora both knew the pond and didn't. She'd never cared for marshlands, and the only pond of note in the kingdom was one she had no interest in visiting. Neither did Adonis, for that matter; thanks to his bachelor years of moving from inn to inn and tent to tent while his projects came to life at the expense of consistent baths and laundry, her husband was a hygiene-conscious man for whom a filthy pond would have been among the worst venues for love-making.

But, somehow, she knew this was that pond--and, in spite of her unease about the place, she didn't mind. She was alone. The waters were clean and clear enough, lilies of many colors abundant, a number of ducks and geese floating in content. The earth beneath her was dry in spite of the pond's proximity, even as the grass receded and the dirt prevailed. It might have been how she knew it was a dream, the peace and cleanliness of such a place.

That, and it just... felt it. Not even like a normal dream, really, but certainly not reality. And what other possibility was there? That she was dead? She thought she'd know if she was dead.

But if it was a dream, then it was odd that she was aware of it. She'd believed far stranger dreams to be reality while in the process of dreaming them, dreams of impossible creatures and characters from stories and scenes that defied physics. If she spent a dream sitting by a pond, she didn't expect to know it for a dream until she woke.

She wasn't awake. She'd have known why she was here if she was awake--she hoped.

"Hello, Teodora. It's been a while."

She turned her head to see the naked figure of a green-skinned woman standing behind her. That was a sight more typical of a dream.

Or was it? Somehow, she couldn't quite be sure this was her first time seeing this woman. "Who are you?"

"I'm the one responsible for your memory issues, though I'll remind you that you did ask. Now that they're causing you some grief, I've come to your subconscious to sort them out. Try to keep calm while I'm here, but I'm fully expecting that you won't." The woman rolled her cloudy eyes as she flipped two hanging braids behind her back. "The truth isn't always the easiest thing to grasp."

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