The following segment has been heavily abridged from two books. When Dreams Turn Dark: Tales of Forbidden Sleep Magic and The History of Sleep: From Tiss to the Tabernacle.

  The true nature of dreams is still very much a mystery, even to dedicated sleep enthusiasts. Unlike the domains of Food and Drink, which haven’t seen any big innovations in nearly two hundred years, the books on sleep magic are regularly re-written as new understanding is gained.

  For example, most books penned prior to the Dark War talk of dreams as an entirely personal experience. It was accepted as fact that each dreamer entered their own individual dream world, which only they could experience. That notion was partially disproven when Scaevolus created the Mind Pick, an item which enabled him to enter the dreams of others. Though it’s most famous for ending the Dark War, its impact on our understanding of sleep magic can’t be understated.

  The very notion of a shared dream upended centuries of theory. And while many found this revelation unsettling, others saw it for the grand opportunity that it was. For the first time in history, mages considered the possibility of dreaming together. No longer were they limited to simply sharing information while awake, they had the potential for true collaboration.

  Unfortunately, in the aftermath of the war, study of the mind pick was strictly forbidden… condemned by the very man who had created it. To quote Scaevolus: “We can’t risk it. The potential for evil is too high. Nothing is worse than having your dreams invaded. Nothing. It’s a violation that no one deserves… not even someone as vile as Ekkss.”

  The hero king proclaimed this not long after he seized control of Perfectum, speaking to a crowd of sleep mages who had arrived to help build the new capital. Many of them had suffered personally under Ekkss's reign, and could not believe that any punishment was too severe for the tyrannical Pentoid.

  Still, in the months that followed, as the kingdom's scattered sleep mages began to gather openly for the first time in years, it was agreed unanimously that the Mind Pick would not be used. Scaevolus insisted that the device could only bring harm, and at the height of his popularity this sentiment proved quite persuasive. In the end The Capital's first senate, at the behest of their king and the city's dreamers, passed a series of laws heavily regulating sleep magic. Among them was a law stating that the creation of another Mind Pick, or any similar device, would be a crime punishable by death. It joined the short list of taboos that were considered dark sleep magic, alongside the creation of artificial life, and dreaming whilst awake.

  Thus, for many years, the theory implied by the Mind Pick's existence- that dreams were something more than an individual's mental processes -wasn't discussed academically… at all. In fact, for decades after the war advancement in the field of sleep magic all but stopped. Reconstruction required professional dreamers to work on mass producing useful items… like globelights and sunstones. And so the community focused on perfecting its current techniques rather than developing new ones.

  Even beyond these practical considerations though, was the culture at the time. Having lived through the chaos of war, that generation of mages didn’t seek glory or adventure. They were more concerned with settling down; with making sleep magic into a safe and stable profession. Experimenting with the unknown was dangerous after all, and they had already experienced enough danger to last a lifetime.

  It wasn’t until late in Scaevolus’s reign that someone finally challenged the status quo; pushing The Capital’s sleep mages to explore beyond the established boundaries. That someone… was Scaevolus himself.

  Everything changed when the king announced the creation of a Sleep Tabernacle. Just like every other Tabernacle, the project was pitched as a monument; something to celebrate the success of Att's reconstruction. Unlike every other tabernacle, this testament to dreams would not be a traditional building. Instead, it would be an embodiment of the very elemental force it was supposedly built to celebrate.

  Not only would the tabernacle be constructed using sleep magic… but it would be placed within a dream… specifically in Somnium, the universal dream. An unconscious realm that exists outside of any one individual.

  Up until this point such a place had been theorized to exist… but it was strictly hypothetical, a word used for thought experiments and nothing more.

  But Scaevolus claimed that he had proof Somnium existed… and… a plan to construct something within it. According to him, the building would be anchored to a physical spot in the waking world, but only reachable while sleeping. The conscious eye would not be able to perceive it. You could walk right through it and never even know it was there. But fall asleep in the shadow of that invisible tabernacle, and you would find yourself traversing its halls in your dreams.

  To quote Scaevolus again “I know it sounds impossible. Great things always sound impossible. That’s what makes them great, they require an extraordinary effort. But I know this project is possible, because I know the dreamers of this country. They are extraordinary people, capable of greatness. And by working together, they can accomplish things that sound impossible.”

  That speech, given to a crowd outside the senate building, would go on to explain that the Sleep Tabernacle’s construction would require collaborative dreaming. For the first time since its creation, the Mind Pick would be used on willing participants, allowing the best sleep mages in Att to combine their knowledge and skills. Together, they could create something far greater than their individual minds could fathom. It would be a monument like no other; made by dreamers, for dreamers.

  Most of the kingdom was thrilled by this idea. The general public marveled at the entire concept, talking of the Sleep Tabernacle with awe and wonder.

  Most of the sleep mages who heard this proposal… found it outrageous. The community at large had thoroughly accepted the post-war ethics concerning their craft. They considered collaborative dreaming to be a crime, and found this sudden change of direction from their king to be… unsettling at best.

  But any outcry they might have produced was silenced when Scaevolus announced the lead architect of this project: Salvadora Eschere.

  To most people, the amphibious deepun is merely a footnote in history, just one of Scaevolus's many companions during the war. Part of that is due to her quiet nature. The woman rarely spoke publicly, and never sought attention. While it's widely known that she was an accomplished dreamer, the true extent of her abilities is often overlooked by the general public. Most aren’t even aware that she was Scaevolus’s teacher; the one who taught him how to dream in the first place.

  To those trained in the sleep magic, Salavdora is known as one of the greatest dreamer who ever lived, a sleep miester without equal; whose mastery surpasses even Scaevolus. With her leading construction of the Tabernacle, any doubts the dreaming community had were swallowed up by a fervor of optimistic excitement.

  Great dreamers from around the kingdom lined up to volunteer, eager to play their part in history. The Mind Pick saw its first use since the Dark War, this time not as a deadly weapon, but as a tool of creation. Using it, the greatest minds of that generation were able to enter Salvadora's dream. And together, over the course of several years, they crafted the Sleep Tabernacle.

  For those who got the opportunity to assist, the experience was unforgettable. Working inside the dream of a meister, and collaborating on a project of this scale… was beyond amazing. So much insight was gained simply by witnessing how she worked first hand… even if much of that work was managerial. Her role was mainly to guide and assist those who visited her dreams. They would create individual rooms for the tabernacle based on their own creative visions, and Salvadora would store these rooms in her dream from night to night, organizing them privately into one cohesive structure.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Exactly how she accomplished this… is not well understood. At the time she deflected any questions, remaining as terse and cryptic as she always had, promising to only discuss her techniques after the project was completed.

  This was likewise her response when she was asked how she planned to combine all the disparate rooms together. Or how she intended to anchor the finished structure into Somnium. Or what the nature of Somnium even was in the first place. Many were frustrated by her lack of answers, but most assumed that her secrecy was due to the experimental nature of the Tabernacle. Obviously nothing like this had been done before, and so Salvadora wouldn’t have definitive answers… until she actually did it.

  There were whispers that perhaps Salvadora had bitten off more than she could chew, that maybe she was toying with dangerous forces she didn’t yet understand… but work carried on regardless. Everyone trusted Salvadora. If she said it could be done… then it could be done. If she said the answers would come with time… then they would.

  Despite all the warning signs, the mood in the community was one of overwhelming confidence. The war was long over. The peoples of Att were united. And now they were working together to do something exceptional. People were certain that the Sleep Tabernacle was just the first step into a new frontier. That once it was complete, Salvadora’s knowledge and techniques would be disseminated to the community, and used to their fullest extent. People talked of potential… of a golden age brought forth by the wonders of collaborative dreaming…

  But of course… that never happened.

  The Tabernacle of Sleep was the first of the tabernacles to be completed. On the night it opened to the public, dozens of sleep mages, professional and amateur, gathered on the spot where it was said to be anchored, eager to visit the revolutionary structure. It sat on a grassy hill not far from The Capital, in the shade of a mighty tree. The night was beautiful. It was warm and windless, and not a single cloud marred the starry sky. Hundreds were there with cots and bedrolls, trying to sleep outdoors despite their giddy excitement.

  Those who did manage to dream however… woke rather quickly and suddenly.

  Some shouted in terror as they were frightened back into consciousness. Others were supremely angered by the experience. Most, however, simply sat there in a confused melancholy.

  Though the tabernacle of sleep had used a wildly different method of construction, the final product had ended up the same as every other tabernacle; less of a monument to be enjoyed, and more of a challenge to be overcome. Rather than a solid building akin to something that might exist in the real world, the Sleep Tabernacle was instead a maddening nightmare of complete and utter chaos.

  The structure, if it could even be called that, was an amorphous and ever-changing thing. Its contents shifted around in constant motion, growing and shrinking, colliding with each and fusing together, all seemingly at random. It was unclear if the rooms that Att's sleep meisters had so carefully crafted… were even there. Some elements were present, but they were so corrupted and grotesque that they were barely recognizable. Most people couldn’t spend more than a minute in the place, before waking violently.

  As the night went on, and it became clear that the nightmares were not some fluke, but the actual finished tabernacle they had poured years of work into… the shock of the crowd began to turn to anger. That anger reached its zenith when it was discovered that two members of the audience… had failed to wake up; not because they were dreaming soundly… but because they were dead. The first tabernacle had claimed its first victims, innocent mages for whom the stress of that nightmare building… was simply too much to bear.

  With cries of murder on their breath, the crowd's attention soon turned to Salvadora. She had retired to her house the previous night, right after the tabernacle was completed, claiming that the process had exhausted her greatly. Ever the recluse, no one thought it too strange when she sent out a note claiming that she didn't have the strength to attend the opening ceremony. Once the true nature of the tabernacle was revealed however, people began to suspect that the project's genius leader… had deceived them all along.

  That night an enraged mob snaked its way through the streets of The Capital, making a midnight march on Salvadora's home. As they wove through the city, others joined the procession, and soon the white and blue glow of dream crafted pointlights was joined by the red hues of torches. The mob grew bigger and more unruly, its chanting becoming louder with each city block it passed.

  By the time they reached their destination, the crowd was beyond reason. Loud angry shouting was the only warning given, before Salvadora's home… was set on fire. The tall building on the far edge of town went up like a funeral pyre, drawing in even more onlookers from around the city. Soon fights broke out. Then looting began. More fires were started, though fortunately they didn't spread very far. The city guard was mobilized, and managed to contain the chaotic crowd with only a few additional casualties.

  By the time the sun rose on the following day, seven people had died. Two mages at the tabernacle. Two more in the streets of The Capital. Plus a guard, one of Salvadora’s neighbors who was caught in the blaze, and of course… Salvadora herself. Though no body was ever recovered from the charred ruins of her home, the once respected deepun mage was never heard from again, and whatever notes she may have written down about Somnium or collaborative dreaming... were lost forever in the fire.

  ...

  In the immediate aftermath of the nightmare riot, as it would come to be called, Scaevolus took all the blame.

  Quote: “This is my fault. The tabernacles were my idea, and I accept full responsibility. Whatever punishment the Senate hands down, I will abide.” Unquote.

  The Senate ruled that Salvadora had acted alone, and that her punishment had already been carried out. At the time, none of the other tabernacles had been completed, and so Scaevolus’s statement was seen as nothing more than a humble gesture on the part of a noble ruler. In the following years however, as more tabernacles were finished, and it became clear that they were all deceptions, the true meaning of his words were called into question.

  Just how much of the Sleep Tabernacle was Scaevolus's plan? Some say that Salvadora did act alone, and that it was the stress of this failed tabernacle, along with her betrayal and subsequent death, which drove the king to madness in the first place. Others say that the two collaborated; that Scaevolus ordered his former teacher to sabotage the tabernacle, and then helped her escape the city just prior to the riot. Still others say Scaevolus acted alone; that it was the king who corrupted the finished tabernacle, and that Salvadora was simply an innocent pawn who took the blame.

  The truth may never be known, and as far as dreaming is concerned, it doesn't really matter at this point. The incineration of Salvadora and her notes, along with the poisoning of Scaevolus, ensured that nearly all knowledge about collaborative dreaming has been lost. The disastrous Sleep Tabernacle, and the deaths associated with it, have only cemented the notion that shared dreaming is a form of dark sleep magic. Any hope of exploring it further has been soured for a whole new generation of mages. The mind pick has been locked away, and its very existence remains a sore spot for the dreaming community to this day.

  …

  All of that Lefty learned during his first two weeks visiting Sgllg'Throk's library. Despite the rows and rows of tomes available, that was all the information he could find about the Sleep Tabernacle. It seems that even decades after its creation, hardly anyone had thought to investigate the structure seriously.

  People had been there of course. Most young sleep mages consider it a rite of passage to visit at least once. But whatever they experienced, they didn’t write it down. Only a few books so much as even mentioned the tabernacle’s existence. Most of the information that Lefty found was contained in a single chapter of a single book on the history of dreaming. The rest was found amid tales of dark sleep magic. And among those sources, there was almost nothing about what he could actually expect to find inside the tabernacle's walls; nothing which might help him to plan for his upcoming visit.

  While Pluuthrchk and a few others had made reference to a creature living inside, he couldn't find a single academic mention of the beast. And the mages he asked, those that would talk to him at least, gave wildly differing accounts.

  Some said it was a dragon, like the one Ekkss had created. Others joked that it was a Vork, a nonsense creature used in thought experiments and quippy metaphors. Most however, said the beast was a dark reflection of the dreamer’s own fears; a personal nightmare made manifest.

  Lefty assumed that, for him, that would mean some kind of water monster, which he was prepared to fight if need be.

  Regardless, all of this is why, after just a fortnight of research, Lefty told Pluuthrchk that he was done with the library, and no longer needed to go. There was so little information on the Sleep Tabernacle, that even reading at his slow pace, he had managed to get through all of it in just a few days. With that accomplished, the young man had… nothing left to do. Most of the library's texts were still far too complex, and he had spoken with every sleep mage he thought would talk with him.

  Faced with supreme boredom, Lefty tried his best to read the advanced books anyway, but ironically, page after page of incomprehensible words only managed to make the young man… sleepy.

  And so it was, that three days a week, Lefty would travel to premier gathering places for sleep mages… and fall asleep, taking long naps in the noisy library, often with a book laying on his head to block out the light and sound. No one at Sgllg’Throk’s thought this was unusual. If anything, it earned him a bit of respect from those who assumed he was hard at work practicing his craft.

  Of course, there’s a big difference between napping and proper sleep. Having a coherent and stable dream during a nap… well… it wasn’t very likely.