5/20/12 - 6/6/13
The Dream Which Lasted 380 Days.
I am writing to you as deliberately as I can. I want nothing of my experience forgotten, for each part of it is a key of remembrance; one happening links another, and another; the ripple effect, if you will. Dreams are a very delicate manner, you see. Dreams are very fragile. You can never be certain if, when recalling a dream, if you are simply remembering a previous moment in your waking life, or if these are indeed thoughts and visions you have concurred up in your dreaming. I thank the amnesiac for inspiring me to want to remember.
My dream began on a cliff, overlooking a vast and shimmering ocean. There at first was a boy alone on that cliff, gazing. A boy was all he was to me. An angel descended upon the boy and in a chorus of laughter, the angel pushed the boy off and watched his body break against the sharp edges of the rocks until his corpse rested in a distorted pile on the shoreline. The angel called Lucifer appeared before the boy and returned the life of which he had stolen, then returned him to his gazing on the edge. The boy's name, the angel soon found out, was named Jericho. The angel whispered like the form on the snake he once was, and coaxed the boy into submission, making promises, telling secrets. Then again, Lucifer threw the boy off the cliff, paying very little concern in morals. He, in all aspects, appeared to be the perfect mimicry of Lucifer in Mark Twain's book, The Mysterious Stranger.
Along came two angels; Clary and Xandria, of both natures were thrilling and beautiful. The angel Lucifer made a game of taunting them, demonstrating humanity as fools and nothing more than sheep who can easily be replaced. He would create clay models of nothing, breathe life into them, name them- then destroy them. He would tell witnesses of the uselessness of emotions and empathy, of how it isn't important when one person dies, or how. He walked the world willing to give anyone exactly what they wished for, at a price that seemed so wonderful until the bargain was made, and he told them who around them would suffer for their selfishness. With his wickedness, Lucifer quickly became a feared spectacle, hated, yet gazed at with awe by mankind. The angels were not pleased, and questioned the fallen endlessly. But he did not yield. He would merely clap his hands and dance, distorting his face and laughing sweetly like the singing bells of a wind-chime.
Then came a time when a woman of dark possession appeared. She was interested in self-infliction and the infliction of others. With a flap-book full of needles, she would amuse herself by tormenting those around her who interested her on some strange level. Her name was Roxy.
But before I go on, I must leap back a few days in this dream- to the flight of the dragon.
There something beautiful about dragons. They have always held a special meaning for me, being imaginary and "much too complicated" to pretend to be. Any attempts at writing about a dragon would feel too generic and not personal enough; the meaning I would want to express as a writer would not come across to the readers. Yet somehow, in my dream there was a dragon of darkness, of which I did not, at the time, understand.
The great dragon Ebony was a threat to Lucifer. And as soon as its appearance was noted by the fallen angel, a battle of sword and claw began. This dragon was not a creature of evil intentions; she had a beautiful heart and an even more beautiful soul. She was not the typical dragon one would expect to read about in a story; she was kind and understood the ways of humans better than the humans themselves. But this, you see, is how Lucifer thought of himself. He believed his ways were superior to anyone else's, and his laws and ideas just made much more sense. Yet he did not care if his ideas were trampled on, because he, deep down, never really cared in the first place. By any excuse which came to his filthy mind, the fallen angel would taunt the dragon and mock her at every chance he found. The angel would sneak into the dragon's cave and taunt her into fighting her, even though the dragon was often weak and seemed very ill. But on and on the foolish angel pressed, reckless, careless, having nothing to keep him from his own actions. When suddenly… Jericho appeared. Like a shining star falling into the earth between angel and dragon, this boy ended the fight with a firm voice, laying a hand on the dragon. It was then that Lucifer realized that the boy, Jericho, was the dragon's rider. This was laughable, and the angel could hardly contain his amusement.
Over time, the meeting of Roxy came. But it was not a fond "howdoyoudo". It was through witnessing the possessive woman in action, for she was tormenting the great dragon with a lovely collection of sewing needles and pins, laughing, enjoying herself. Roxy was quite a character, wanting to be something; to prove her worth both to herself and to others, wanting to rise to the top at any and all costs. When the fallen angel came across Roxy, he was thrilled, and saddled up beside the morally twisted human and helped bring terrible pain into Ebony's body and spirit, attempting to shatter the dragon simply for being alive. It became very intimate; the mutual torture of Ebony, and the angel found himself drawn to the human in a disgusted and dominating sort of way. But as independent as the woman acted to be, she could not help but let her guard slip; in the angel's presence, she became flustered. Sensing this, the angel kissed the human and made her feel like she was important, though he felt nothing for her, while on the ground, tied by chains and paralyzed by pain, Ebony began to die.
Then along came Jericho as before, and he attempted to save his dear friend, her pain becoming his own. As dragon and rider suffered, Lucifer laughed and coaxed the boy into listening to him, telling him to kill his dragon. But when the boy failed, Lucifer ran forward and let the dragon free, then shot up into the sky, following close behind her.
In the sky, the angel and dragon fought once more; a battle of fire and blood and ash. I watched on in horror, not quite sure what ever this dragon did to deserve this. But Lucifer is Lucifer, and he is no one else: with a great fiery sword, he struck down Ebony and out of the sky she fell. In modern times, this would appear as a great plate rolling out of the sky in black smoke and heavy bright flames. But this was a living creature; of legend, and of my creation: I believed in this dragon and my internal knowledge of them was recalled in my dreaming. This was no normal dragon. Yet the Lucifer of my dreams struck her down.
But this was not the end of the great dragon. Nor would it be the last, for she is a very strong-willed creature.
As time came to pass, the fallen angel left the world and returned in his own time to taunt and spit in the ears of his fellow angels, Clary and Xandria, watching them come and go. For the sake of tradition, Lucifer would stand at the edge of the cliff- to push the boy, Jericho, off the side- just to watch his body bleed out at the shoreline below…