The Journey Through Dreams
You may be picking up this book asking yourself why you are, but I might ask you the same thing, so we are even. If you have picked up this book while looking for a book of fighting and glorious battles, of knights of old and of fair maidens, then this may be the book for you, and then again it may not. For this is a book of dreams. Dreams of what have been, what are, and what may yet come to pass. If you have ever wondered what dreams really are, beneath the things adults say about how they are a part of your imagination? Most of us have. And here, in this book, I shall tell you a great secret, perhaps the greatest of secrets. I am going to tell you what dreams are.
Chapter One Life in the Apartment
A boy of about 14 years walked down a dirty alley in London, amid sounds and smells that no boy should have to hear or smell. This boy looked strangely child like; although he was growing more with each passing season, he retained a clean, innocent, young look, which led some people to think he was but a child of 10 or 11. He lived in this alley, with his mother and baby sister. But something was very special in this boy, some sort of virus of which most adults would disapprove and try to stomp out. Nevertheless it lived in this boy of whom we speak, and as to why it had not gotten stomped out we shall let be. This boy¹s name was Aldarii. A very strange name you might say, and he though so too. The other boys he knew were rough and crude and made fun of him all the time because of this name. His mother had always told him that it came from olden days in England when all was not city and road, and when the Celts still roamed free. She had said that it meant in a long forgotten tongue of theirs "The one of dreams." Aldarii wanted to believe that she had made it up, but that strange virus in him refused to let him. He believed every word of it. "Mama, I¹m home" said the boy. Usually he was quiet and brooding, unless he felt like taunting the gang, but today he felt strangely ready to talk. "Come on in, you scamp! I¹ve got a butter and jelly sandwich for you." "Coming." Aldarii as a rule never ran or talked unless he had to, the former of which unfortunately he had to do quite often, for he was tall but skinny, and the other boys in the gang loved to pick on him. He personally thought them all a bunch of pricks. Usually he got away from them, for he was swift of foot. He took everything very seriously, almost like a battle, though he never played with army soldiers like other boys do. As Aldarii stepped into the apartment, he thought once again to himself, "I need to help Mother and my sister to get a better house. They deserve better than this pit." And a pit it was indeed. Broken chairs lay about, and only their small apartment was kept clean at all. The ceiling tiles were cracked and broken, and in some places one could not trust the floor to hold him, although Aldarii was light enough to go in most places. Worst of all, the building had rats. Big rats, the size of footballs, who would crawl onto your feet and nip if you let them. You may ask, "How could anyone live there?" but they did. And they were still happy most of the time. Life was hard for them, for Mother could not get a good job since their father had left, but they were happy. The strange, beautiful little virus thrived there. Aldarii despised his father, more than anything else. It was his fault they had to live here; his fault that his Mother hadn¹t a good job; his fault that his sister, Elarviel, had no father; his fault for everything.
School has not gone well today, he thought, as he sat down and began to eat his butter and jelly sandwich. I¹m smart, but they never explain how to do things; especially math. Math is hard.
He looked up and saw that Mama wasn¹t eating. Again. She was getting so thin?
"Mama, you have to eat. You are getting so pale and thin. Here, eat the other half of my Sandwich; I¹m not hungry anymore."
"That¹s ok, honey, you finish up; I¹ll eat something later."
That¹s what she always says.
Aldarii finished his sandwich as Elarviel began to cry.
************************************************************************
Elarviel¹s quiet gurglings woke Aldarii up the following morning, in sharp contrast to her cries of yesterday.
Unlike many children, Aldarii loved to get up on a fresh new day, and absolutely would not lie in bed until his mother made him get up. As got dressed and slowly walked from his room into the kitchen, he tried to recall the past night¹s dream. Small fragments of it floated on the edges of his mind, and, strive as he might, he could not grasp them, and they remained as insubstantial mist. He knew that he would have to wait until he fell asleep again to remember it and continue it.
His mother was already up and making breakfast. Aldarii sighed. She was working herself too hard. He worried over what might happen to her. Though he was only 14 years, he thought deeply about such things, and he knew instinctively that his Mother was trying to handle too much.
He smelled the bacon and eggs¹ odors, wafting from the kitchen like glimpses of heaven. No matter if we can afford it or not, Mother will always buy and make good food, he thought proudly.
"Breakfast, honey; bring Elarviel."
"Yes mother."
But first he went in and lovingly gave his Mother a big hug.
"Oh, you?" she said deprecatingly, but underneath her scolding lay a warm blanket of love, which she spread whenever she could over her beloved children.
Breakfast was excellent, and afterwards Elarviel let out a squeal of blissful and ignorant contentedness. Aldarii was certain it was the most beautiful sound since the dawn of the earth. Mother let out one of her rare smiles. It was good to see her smile that way again.
"Oh my, it¹s almost time for school. Hurry and try not to miss the bus!"
The delicate timbre of the moment was shattered like a still pool as a rock is thrown at it by dumb idiots as Aldarii¹s Mother looked at the clock. It was an old clock, given to her a long time ago from someone Aldarii had never heard of. He suddenly wished to know who had given it to her; it seemed somehow important.
However he might have liked to know the clock¹s history, his Mother was right; he had to get to school. He jerked on socks, ignoring the fact that the heel of on was in the front.
As he hopped on the bus seconds before it took off, he looked back at his sorry little alley, feeling sad that they couldn¹t live in a good house like other people. By rights they should be in a nice suburb or at least in a decent apartment.
But it couldn¹t be so; at least not now, and Aldarii was given little time to think over such things as the chaos of the bus ensued. His school day had officially begun.
************************************************************************
Taunts were thrown back and forth like dirty laundry while Aldarii sat numbly on a cold, hard seat on the bus. 6th graders hit each other and mercilessly spilled all the secrets of their own friends. 10th, 11th, and 12th graders made out in the back of the bus, among other things. The bus driver seemed to disdain his passengers, or to even be unaware that they were even there. He did nothing to intervene. Elementary schoolers squabbled and tried to trade lunches and lunchboxes; when that failed they resorted to force a deal. Aldarii hated the society of the bus. The audacity, immaturity, and corruption of the people in it disgusted him. He adamantly looked out the window. "Hey Dairy, what are you doing over there?" Eddy Dill. Aldarii was his favorite subject and his favorite victim. He noticed droplets of steam forming on the window from his breath. "How¹s your apartment?" The droplets slowly moved down the window. "I wonder what your mom is doing for money nowadays." Aldarii could take it no longer. "Keep your tongue behind your mouth, scum." "Ooh, did you hear that? He talks almost as weird as he looks." Some of the other children on the bus smirked or snickered at him. Aldarii didn¹t mind being made fun of, but his mother was another case. As the bus pulled to a stop, he waited until Eddy was just ahead of him, and as they got to the door of the bus, he shoved Eddy as hard as he could off the steps?and into the "School Zone" sign. Eddy didn¹t look to good as his thick head bounced off the metal sign post, he noticed with satisfaction. "Don¹t you ever make fun of my Mother again. She is twice as noble, kind, and loving as your Mother will ever be." A few drops of blood sluggishly slid down Eddy¹s face. He punched Aldarii in the stomach. Aldarii crumpled to the ground. Then the crossing guard, a stern but decent looking 11th grader, took Eddy off of him and hauled him up to his feet. Not even bothering to ask what happened, he brought them both to the Director¹s office. The Director was a pinch-faced woman in her mid-50¹s, and had the temper of a belligerent wasp. "What happened here?" she demanded. Eddy naturally piped right up, saying, "Aldarii pushed me off the bus and into a sign and gave me a bloody nose and made fun of my mom." "Is this true?" The director glared at Aldarii. She had always thought him an unnatural child, probably because of the little virus in him. "Yes." Aldarii felt no need to tattle the whole story, and he didn¹t mind being punished. "You will be sent home for the day." He nodded, and watched Eddy leave the room with a evil grin.
************************************************************************
"What happened?" Aldarii had almost forgotten that his Mother had decided to take this day off to be with Elarviel and to clean the house. It was not as if she made much money at her work anyway, he had thought glumly. Mother was not mad with him over being sent home from schoo, but he could tell from the sad look on her face that she was disappointed. He began to cry. He did not mind crying; he did not understand why everyone else was ashamed of it. "He was making fun of you; he said that you were dishonorable. I pushed him, and then he knocked the wind out of me." His Mother already had him in her arms, and was rocking him back and forth gently. "My Aldarii; so mature, so young. My child of dreams." Aldarii half heard this, and continued to rock in his mother¹s arms. After he was feeling better, his mother held him out at arms length and said to him, "Why don¹t you go what you want to do. You¹ve had a hard day. Aldarii slowly brightened up. Perhaps during your free time you play with your friends, or perhaps you read a good book, or walk in the woods alone. Perhaps you simply go to sleep, have some dreams, and take a nap. Perhaps. But all too often now, children like you and I do not do these excellent things. Instead, they watch this thing they call the television, or TV. Or they play videogames on computers and other fancy gadgets that were made up just for people to waste time on. Children like this never get anywhere. It is children like you and I, who play outside and read and walk and sleep who do great things in this world. Well Aldarii didn¹t have any friends, except for his little sister, who he thought was the most beautiful little girl in the entire world. Some sisters whine and annoy boys like you and I, and we get mad at them and sometimes dislike them. Not so with Elarviel and Aldarii. Aldarii loved Elarviel so dearly that he would have fought a thousand of the greatest dragons that had ever lived for her. She was his princess. Nor did Aldarii live by woods to walk and play in. He could not afford to buy many books at all. He only had a few treasured books on the bottom of his and Elarviel¹s room. He knew these books like the back of his hand. There was The Adventures of Robin Hood, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, The Innocents At Large, and Grimms Fairy Tales. Perhaps you have read these books, and then perhaps you haven¹t. But you should. As for these videogames and television, Aldarii had seen other boys doing these things, and he scorned them for wasting time on such wicked and empty things. So naturally, Aldarii read these books during his free time, and when he wasn¹t reading them, he slept and dreamt. And he did love his dreams. He dreamt of woods and gurgling streams, mountains wrapped in clouds, and mysterious valleys covered in faery mist. He dreamt of beings of Faery and Elves. He frollicked and danced with the Faery¹s, and learnt the lore of the land from the noble and elusive Elves. But for a while he had been aware of something calling him away from his wanderings; some strange purpose. He knew he would have to answer that call soon. Now you may be laughing in your hearts or out loud at these dreams of Altarii, but these were all very real things, and he loved them as he loved himself. On this afternoon Altarii decided to read a few pages of Grimm¹s Fairy Tales. He read all afternoon, and then went for a walk down the old, dump of an alley he lived it. He focused on the sky and on the birds who wheeled gracefully in it instead, and took his joy from them. By the time he got home it was suppertime, and Mother and Elarviel were waiting patiently for him. Home made bread came fresh out of the old oven in the corner of the kitchen. A small bar of butter was lying near it on a plastic plate. A large bowl of rice finished off the meal. "Looks wonderful, Mother." "Why thank you!" They enjoyed dinner together, and Aldarii delighted himself in feeding Elarviel little pieces of his bread, and giving her sips of milk from her bottle. His Mother at this night, and he was pleased at that. She already was beginning to look better. After everyone was done, he got ready for bed, and went into his and Elarviel¹s room. Elarviel was already asleep, with his Mother crooning lovingly over her. Mother is so beautiful, he thought. He tiptoed up to her and gave her a little tap. She turned around, and mouthed "I love you; goodnight and sweet dreams." "I love you too, goodnight," he mouthed back. His Mother quietly left the room. While he had been planning to go straight to bed, he decide now to read some more of Grimms Fairy Tales before going into dreams. However, despite this decision, he had scarce finished the first sentence of the book before he fell into a deep sleep. And this is what he dreamed.
Chapter 2 The Talk
Amid an ancient forest of warped, mossy trees, a boy stood. Aldarii seemed to float down from the sky, as if he was in one of those machines that so often flew over London (what were they called again?). As he did so, he saw that the boy was not bad looking, though very skinny and rather gangly. He had tussled dark hair that fell over his eyebrows, but somehow seemed to avoid his eyes. And what eyes they were. They seemed to be a plain brown, but somehow their was a golden light behind them, as if they hid something spectacular that few had ever seen before. His skin was light compared to most of the tanner boys where he had lived (where did he live?). The boy looked around. The trees surrounding him seemed to almost be breathing. There were very few trees where the boy lived, (where did he live?) but he knew that these trees were nothing like them. These trees, he was certain, each had their own name. They whispered to him, telling him of days when they had been young, and could still see the sun over their canopy. They told him of how the scatter rocks around them had once been carved in shapes of leaves, stacked into great pillars. They told him of the temple those stones had once been, before age took both them and their makers into the forgotten annals of time. And then, they told him his name. His true name. "Aldarun. The Savior of Dreams. The One of Dreams." And fainter; "Aldarun?Savior?Dreams?The One." The boy listened hard for more, but the trees whispering for the moment became lost to him. Of a sudden, Aldarii became startled, realizing that he had been in the boy¹s mind. Now perhaps you already have guessed who this boy was, and now Aldarii knew. The boy was him. His vision slowly melted from a view from above, into his body¹s perceptions. He was in himself again. "So you have heard the voice of the trees of Dariel." Aldarii spun around and saw a strange looking old man. The man was dressed in little more than rags and an old, careworn gray cloak. His nose was very long, and he had an unkempt beard that went down to his chest. In his hand was a crooked staff with a strange glass ball on top. Despite his uncouth appearance, the man was somehow beautiful. He had a sort of aura about him; one that was old and worn, but still powerful. Aldarii looked closer at the glass ball on top of the staff. The colors of the glass, he was sure now, were alive. They moved with the vigor of lightning and the grace of a swan. Aldarii got the strange impression that this raggedy old man could crush him with a word. "You have heard the voices of the trees. Good." "What does that mean." "What?" "What does what trees say mean." "Sh. Follow me. There are other ears here." The old man motioned for Aldarii to follow him through an ancient stone door he had not seen before. No one should have been able to lift that door open. It was at least 7 feet long and 5 feet wide. Aldarii was sure for some reason that it was solid rock. The old man lifted it like it was nothing. "Well, come on now, what are you waiting for, boy?" the man said grumpily. "Move it, I¹ve come a long way for this on orders from higher up." Aldarii went through the door and into the tunnel. Dark surrounded him until the old man made a strange motion with his hand. The glass ball on top of the staff glowed in all its colors, emitting a dancing light upon the stone passageway. "Get used to it. Everybody looks at my it that way at first." Aldarii decided not to say anything. They went along the stone passageway as the strange light flickered across the smooth walls. As Aldarii looked more closely at the stone, he saw, to his awe, that it had strips of crystal in it. "It looks rather pretty, does it? Watch this." The old man stuck out an edge of his robe to touch the crystal. It appeared shockingly that the edge of his robe went right through the crystal. However, when he took it out, the edge of his robe was gone and the end was sizzling. "Heh. It¹s burning crystal. Don¹t touch it."
Walking on in this mysterious passageway, Aldarii wished the old man would say something to break the silence of it all. As if reading his thoughts, the old man grudgingly said, "So you live in London?"
"Yes."
"With your Mother and sister, right?"
"Yes."
"You certainly don¹t say much do you, boy?"
"Not unless I have to, no."
"Well considering you were just wishing that I would say something, that¹s rather rude of you not to continue a decent conversation I started for your own comfort."
"Sorry. I just never really liked to talk much; it seems strange to me."
"Well, if you are just rattling of for no reason, it¹s not too great. But you should talk more."
"I¹ll try."
"Good."
Aldarii was plagued with the question of how this strange old man knew that he had wanted him to talk. They kept on walking for time interminable, and finally Aldarii asked the question that had been bothering him since he had seen this strange, grumpy old man. "Are you a magician?" The old man sighed with annoyance. "Sorcerer, if you please." "Then, can you do magic?" "I guess you could call it that, but all it¹s just the Will and the Word. We have no time to talk about such things now. Here we are." And there they were. In a magnificent cavern with crystal stalactites and stalagmites jutting out of the ground like the teeth of some monster of ice. There was a round circle of stone in the center, where light shone down upon it from a crystal ceiling. Two chairs of a strange wood sat opposite on another, waiting for them to sit on them, after centuries of disuse. The old man sighed, as if remembering a sad, ancient memory. "Come boy, we have much to talk about."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Well. Do you know who you are?"
"I am Aldarii. But the trees called me Aldartun, and I am sure that is my real name. But what did they mean by calling me the savior of dreams?"
"Aldartun; savior of dreams. It speaks for itself. You are the savior of dreams."
"Why do dreams need to be saved? I do not understand." The old man became grave; which was rather disconcerting, because of his amusingly cynical grumpiness a moment before.
"Not everyone has your kind of dreams, Aldartun. You are a rahk shielach; you have the ability to travel and create in your dreams. In fact; there are no longer any rahk shielach at all. Except for you."
The old man sighed.
"Yes, there were many once; but no more."
Aldarii suddenly asked, "What happened to them?" As soon as he did so, he felt, like a shadow of winter, that it was something terrible.
"Many things. At one time the ran shardonai were great leaders of people, and all loved them, for they created much that was good and magical. But after many an age of peace and prosperity; interspersed with adventures and magnificient journeys and discoveries of lands in the sky and islands in the earth, there was born the accursed one. The accursed one was a ran shardonai, but he was evil from the very time he was born. He created much evil in his time, and while he lived all the other ran shardonai vanished into obscurity. The accursed one died shortly after causing everlasting chaos in the world, but the damage was indeed done. In the years that have followed, various things have happened to the ran sharadonai; burnings, assassinations, charges of witchcraft; at any rate; they all died; until only one was left. Her name was Idrili, and before she died of exhaustion in the white mountains of the west, she made a prophesy; a prophesy that one would be born who would again find the true meaning of dreams, and bring them back to the world. She prophesied you. You are to be the savior of dreams. All people¹s dreams save yours are filled with chaos, whether happy or sad or evil. It should not be so. Dreams are holy things where the Gods speak to men, and tell them what is willed of them. It is where men find the hope to live and find inspiration for all that they never thought they could do. But now that real dreams are gone, the civilizations of the world are falling apart; whether because of too much progress or because they are remaining still and are being left behind. Things cannot stay this way any longer, because something is about to happen that will ruin all hope of your success. You must find what dreams are now." Aldarii sat in silence for a long time, before finally saying, "I can¹t do this." "Don¹t disagree with me. You can." "Well then how am I going to do it? It¹s impossible." "Impossible is probably my least favorite word, boy. You are going to journey to Onun Cimun, the land of past dreams. I know during your dreams you love to go around in the faery mists and in the woods of the Elves, but you are going to have to leave that behind. You have something more important to do now no matter how little you might like it. From there you will journey through various people¹s dreams; both from before the accursed one and after, until you find the dream."
"What is the dream, if you don¹t mind?" Aldarii was getting a bit angry with this. However, that little virus in him made him believe what this old man, who most people would call insane, said.
"Only you can tell that. And when you find the dream-well, we¹ll see what happens then."
"We? You are going with me?"
"Why, my boy, you didn¹t think you were going alone, did you?"
"I don¹t even know you."
"Sure you do; you just don¹t remember. I suspect some other creatures will be joining us too as we go along. You will be dreaming this; but it is also real, although I suspect for you that will be a bit confusing. So, how soon can you be ready?"
Aldarii did not understand much at all of what the old man had said, but he figured that he didn¹t have anything much better to do during his dreams, except for his roamings. And he had a strange feeling that this was the call he had been hearing and waiting for.
However, he did not like the sound of it when the old man had said "creatures."
Chapter 3 The Tower and Its Contents
He awoke in the morning dimly aware of what had transpired the past night. It was raining gently, and he could hear the patter of the drops on the building¹s walls. Aldarii loved rain; it felt very exciting and somehow special when a raindrop landed on him; as if some kind of unspoken agreement had already been made between some higher power and the raindrop that it¹s destiny was to make him wet.
Elarviel was curled up on her sleeping mat, breathing quietly. He walked over and watched her for a few minutes before walking over to the Kitchen to make breakfast.
He absently got out some bacon and turned on the cheap plug-in griddle. As the griddle began to steam, he put the bacon on and waited for a few minutes for it to brown nicely. While doing this, he noticed that he hadn¹t heard or seen his mother. Perhaps you are used to your mother sleeping in, and not seeing her till later in the morning, but Aldarii¹s mother was very punctual about waking up early to prepare meals and take care of Elarviel. He decided that after the bacon was done, he would check in and make sure she was all right.
The bacon lay in a neat pile on a plastic platter as Aldarii walked from the room.
"Mother? Breakfast¹s ready."
A permeating silence was all that answered him. However, he did see a hazy purple mist seeping slowly out from behind the door.
"Mother?"
He tried to open the door, but it was locked. He began to pound on it, and when he rammed it, it burst off of it¹s cheap aluminum hinges and fell inwards.
No one was there, but there was a queer smelling purple mist still trailing out from what could only be described as a hole in the air.
Aldarii did not scream or cry out, but rather, despite the urgency of the moment, he stumbled over to his mother bed, and, falling on it, went into dreams.
Beside the dreaming Aldarii, the clock read 6:66.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Blast. This complicates things."
Aldarii and the old man were in room at the top of an ancient stone tower. Around them a savage blizzard swirled and blew as the candles lighting the room flickered and swayed in it¹s fury, despite the latched windows. A fire crackled almost grudgingly in the fireplace by the old man¹s desk, which was littered with musty yellowed parchments. Around the room lay cluttered numerous strange things, some which Aldarii had heard of and some which he had not, and some which had no apparent use whatsoever.
"Where is my mother? Did you take her somewhere?"
"Me? No, boy, not me. He did it. He took your mother. Only question is where and when he took her."
"Who¹s he? Where¹s Abbadon? What do you mean ?when¹ he took her?"
"He is the Overlord of Evil, once a star in the sky, but banished by the God¹s to the fiery pits of Abbadon. Ah, I keep forgetting Abbadon is hell to you new people. Nasty place; you wouldn¹t want to go there, let me tell you. Anyway, there He has waited until you came along. You can move in time as well as in space, don¹t you know. Haven¹t you read Eddison¹s theory about the speed of light being-oh, blast it all."
"But-"
"Be quiet, boy, I¹m trying to think! Where could he have taken her." He made a strange gesture with his hand and said, "Think no more of your mother¹s captivity until I tell you."
And Aldarii, despite his shock and panic, thought no more on it, but, strangely, became rather apathetic about the whole thing.
The old man strode over to the desk that was covered with parchments with stunning energy for one so aged. He shuffled through them, picking out some and setting them in a pile. After this he took his selected pile and began reading them furiously.
Who was this old man anyway, Aldarii wondered, and why should he believe him about all this rubbish concerning the meaning of dreams and how he had to find them? He knew by some intuitive instinct that what the old man said was true, but his mind, despite the persistent and faithful virus, had spent too much time in the changed world, and would not let him believe.
Besides, this old man is so grumpy and mean; I am going to show him that he¹s not my boss at all. I¹m leaving.
And with that, Aldarii walked over to the door he has espied while waiting for the old man to finish his thinking. He opened it quietly, and went down the staircase revealed by it¹s opening, leaving the old man, back towards him, unaware that he had moved an inch.
The staircase went on for a long time. Aldarii counted the steps as he went down. At step 349 he heard the old man give a yell of surprise, presumably upon his finding out that his protégé had evacuated the area. Aldarii didn¹t stop to think about it.
At step 528 he stopped to take a breather, although he heard the old man still far above him running down the stairs in leaps and bounds. Suddenly the leaping stopped, and Aldarii heard a crash, as of window panes breaking. With a horrid clarity, he saw the old man tripping over a crooked stair and falling through one of those beautiful stained glass windows that appeared regularly on the way down the staircase. Aldarii leapt up and ran down the stairs, unconsciously counting as he went. At step 777 he came to the bottom. He had not noticed this, but, as he went down, the spiral staircase got wider and wider until, at the base, the walls on the inside opened up and a vast room appeared before the boy.
And a great room it was. Fountains of sparkling water sprang out of the mouths of sculptures of cherubim and seraphim to land gracefully in silver basins. Carven pillars supported the vast roof of the room, and the floor was one gigantic mosaic of faeries and elves, of unicorns and hippogriffs, and in the center, a huge stone sculpture, covered with jewels to fit the colors, a majestic dragon rose up out of the floor.
Now perhaps you have seen pictures of dragons in your time, but I can assure you with utmost certainty that this dragon was nothing like the one¹s you have seen. Its scales were of a deep purple color, and it¹s eyes were of sapphire blue, with pupils of fire. Its mouth had an almost cynical cast to it, and despite the sharp and deadly-looking teeth in it, bore a sort of kindly look. Its tail went on for at least twice the length of its body, to end in a curl about one massively muscled foreleg. Its wings were vast, and spread out above and beyond it¹s body till they almost touched the high roof of the room.
How long Aldarii stared at this sculpture of this wondrous creature none will ever know, but at long last a purring voice said to him in a highly satirical pitch, "You don¹t need to stare at it all day, you know. That¹s only plain old Ayornagon."
Aldarii spun around, and saw a creature like none he had seen before. It had long, slender, but well muscled legs, and a catlike face, but with a mouth that could plainly be seen to be capable of speech. A pointed horn was upon its forehead, and small spines went all down it¹s back, lying down upon one another. A short, pointy tail stuck out from its body, and a golden crown rested upon the forehorn.
"What are you staring at, human?"
"I-I¹ve never seen a creature like you before."
"Oh, really?" The cat creature sniffed disdainfully. "What a plain and uninteresting star you must come from."
"Pardon me, but I don¹t come from a star. Are we really on a star?"
"Of course we are on a star. Where else did you think we were?" The cat creature eyed him suspiciously. "If you truly don¹t come from a star, then where do you come from?"
"From earth."
At this statement the strange little creature seemed to take quite a shock.
"You are from earth? The earth? The earth of our ancestors?"
"Well," Aldarii answered awkwardly, "yes, I guess so."
He could tell this would be a strange conversation.
"Is it true what they say about it?" the cat creature asked with wonder in its eyes.
"Well?what do they say about it?"
"Oh all sorts of things. Do you really have things, animals, that sort of look like us, but can¹t talk, but only go ?mrrrroooowwww¹?"
She sounded exactly like a cat.
"Oh yes. Cats."
"Really," she sniffed, "is that what you call them? Inferior creatures, in my opinion, if they can¹t talk, in fact-"
But here she was broken off by a huge creaking noise, as of stone bending, if that can be imagined. She took one look behind her and then scurried out of the huge stone room fast as a lightning bolt.
Aldarii looked away from the fleeing cat creature and in front of him; what he saw could have killed him from shock, if he hadn¹t already seen so many amazing things this dream.
The Dragon was no longer merely a statue; its scales were real, and undulating as it stretched itself. Its ponderous wings created huge gusts in the air, that shook the very foundations of the earth. Its pupils flashed fire as it looked around it, seemingly searching for something. Then it¹s gaze fell upon the boy standing alongside it. No Aldarii understood what the cat creature had meant when it said "That¹s only plain old Ayornagon," although this creature was anything but plain. Bedecked with jewels and horns with wicked curves to them. It had metallically tinted colors ranging from dark purple to azure on its body, and red lining around its eyes; its brow protruded shelf-like over them, giving them protection. These fearsome eyes flashed as it looked around it, seemingly searching for something. Smoke and little tongue of flame issued forth from between its bared teeth. Then it¹s roving gaze fell upon the boy standing alongside it.
"Ah, there you are, child. Long have my eyes waited to set their stare upon thee."
Aldarii could not help but cringe at both the dragon¹s visage and its booming voice; it somehow seemed unnatural for the betoothed mouth to form words, but it did.
"Fear not. Have they been telling those tales about us on earth again? Foolish men. They shun those who work for them and welcome those who seek to fulfill their ruin. I have no wish to harm you."
Now that Aldarii listened more closely to the dragon¹s voice, he noticed that it had a sort of undertone that could only be described at maternal and loving. He now understood that from this dragon, at least, he had nothing to fear.
"Come now, chosen one. I have not slept centuries to do nothing when I wake. Upon my back; we go to find the old sorcerer."
Despite his overcoming his fear, Aldarii had hesitated to follow the magnificent dragon¹s instructions. He glanced appraisingly at all the spines and horns on various parts of the dragon¹s body.
"Climb on! Are you afeared to take up your heritage?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why, don¹t you know who you are? You are a dreamer; and I am the creature of dreams. We go together; you on me and I on the air. Climb up upon my back from behind my hindleg."
Aldarii gazed upon the dragon, and realized that this majestic creature was indeed the creature of dreams. A creature as magnificent as it could exist no where else. He reveled in the fact that he was a rider of dragons, while wondering what his heritage was that it would pass on such a noble trait. He climbed on the dragon, seating himself behind the hump at the base of it¹s neck.
"That¹s better. Now I wonder; how will I get out of here?"
Aldarii knew there was only one answer to that question.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Flying was better than anything Aldarii had ever done in dream or in wake. The air was blowing in his face, although he was sheltered from its full strength, which would have surely blown him off, had it hit him full on.
The best part was that the dragon seemed to enjoy having someone riding him. He swooped and dove seemingly just to hear his rider let out cries of fear followed by whoops of joy.
"So," Aldarii cried against the wind as they flew, "your name is Ayornagon?"
Something strange then happened. Aldarii saw the dragon¹s face, even though he shouldn¹t have been able to, being seated behind the dragon¹s head as he was. But he did see it, or rather thought he saw it; he saw it in his mind¹s eye. The dragon¹s face had an annoyed look on it.
"Has Delinde been talking to you?"
"Who¹s Delinde? That cat creature?"
"Ah yes. Cats. It¹s been quite some time since I¹ve eaten one of them." At this Aldarii blanched, but the dragon, seeming not to notice, continued. "Yes, that¹s her. She always was mischievously formal. Ayornagon is my name, but I am called Ayorn, just as you are called Aldarii rather than Aldartun."
"You know my true name?"
"Child, I have known your true name centuries before you were born. You are my reason for existing."
This statement was a bit too profound for Aldarii to consider it fully. Rather, he thought back to a moment ago when he had seen the dragon¹s face in his mind.
Ayorn seemed to read his thoughts.
"So you have already found the talent of mind-communication. I thought it would be a while before you did."
"What¹s that? Do you mean when I just saw your face in my mind? Did you just read my mind?"
"That¹s what those charlatans from earth call it. But no one can truly read anyone else¹s mind. Only individual thoughts or pictures, and that only sometimes."
Aldarii held his peace for several moments, pondering this new insight to his ever-growing dream identity.
In the midst of this fun an blue eagle, a creature, to Aldarii, altogether unheard of, alighted in front of him on the dragon¹s back. Despite its unusual color, Aldarii was not surprised. He had a feeling this bird was not what it seemed.
He was right. The strange eagle blurred and faded into the old man.
"I was wondering how long it would be before you noticed us," Ayorn said mockingly.
"Shut up. Boy, what have you been doing? Who told you to go out of that room?"
"No one but myself." Aldarii felt vaguely insulted for being interrupted in such a profound time as this in the way the old man had interrupted him. "I was getting tired of you being so crabby to me and ignoring me."
Ayorn did what could only be called laughing, if indeed a dragon can laugh. The boom of it shook the air and halted the wind.
"I told you to shut up. Don¹t you think that I can¹t turn your wings to lead, you hunk of scale covered meat. Boy, you can¹t do that; if something really did happen to you, then we could have been in real trouble. You need to not do that kind of stuff. At least tell me first."
"Alright. But please stop treating me like a little child."
"Hrmph."
Aldarii took that as a yes.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ayorn flew them back down to the tower, with the many stone he had knocked out from the exit lying in powdery piles.
"You blundering idiot," the old man said, "look what you¹ve done to my tower!"
"How else was I to get out?"
The old man said nothing, but grunted perfunctorily.
Aldarii scrambled off of Ayorn¹s back as they landed, and tried to walk. He found that as soon as he was on the ground again his legs were wobbling and shaking like a pair of uprooted saplingsin an angry nor¹easter.
"Don¹t try running off just yet; it is hard your first time," the old man said as he nimbly hopped down and walked calmly over to him.
Aldarii was mildly jealous of the old man¹s seeming imperviousness to the afteraffects of flying. He, stumbling, along with the old man, went into the tower. Ayorn stayed outside.
Walking up the stairs in silence, Aldarii noticed the carvings on the sides of the walls. They were magnificent, but as soon as Aldarii passed them, he forgot them, never to remember them again, until the next time he would pass. They were magical, he was sure. Little sparks of shining crystal shone merrily in the stone carvings of creatures known and unknown; and these creatures seemed to move, as did the crystals, swirling around them and outlining them in starry graceful lines.
The silence was broken as the old man asked him in a strangely hushed voice, "do you know why you left like that?"
"Well, I saw you just ignoring me and talking to me like a little child, and suddenly a weird anger rose up in me, telling me to leave."
"I thought it might be so. But so soon."
"What?"
"It was the presence of a Kar Noruun, an inhabiter. It spoke to your feelings and senses to try and get you to leave. When this happens to you, as it will again, you must not listen to it."
"That anger was a different being in me? That¹s impossible. Why would it be talking to me anyway?"
"First, nothing is impossible. Second, don¹t you understand anything of what I¹ve said? You are all important. You are the only one who can find what dreams are, and give true dreams back to the earth. If that happens, then all of the evil which the Dark One sowed into your earth when he took your people¹s dreams would be destroyed."
"Why are dreams so important anyway?"
"What would you do, boy, if you didn¹t have dreams like you do?"
"I don¹t know."
"Exactly. No one else has dreams like yours on your earth; it¹s only you. They are hopeless, like you would be if you had no true dreams. Men on your earth dream of money and riches and women; and worst of all, of so called "progress" which destroys your world. They dream of metal and of machinery; of complicated things that do everything for you. And their dreams aren¹t even real. Where do you think you are right now?"
"In a dream?"
"Yes. We are in a dream; but that is just it; dreams; true dreams, like this one is. But the meaning is not in any true dream save one; the first dream. The dream that my master, the creator himself, made and dreamt in the beginning of beginnings."
"Then your master knows the true meaning of dreams?"
"Yes. He knows all."
"Then why doesn¹t he just tell us and get it over with?"
"Because he has chosen not to interfere, and because this is your purpose; without it, there is no reason for you being alive at all."
Aldarii thought for a moment.
"Who are you?"
Now that he looked at the old man again, he realized that he had a kind of aura about him; a sort of sense that permeated the very air surrounding him with power.
"I was wondering when you were going to ask that and see me." The old man grinned. "I am one of the disciples of the Creator, who, in the beginning of man and of creatures and other beings, chose some of us to live with him and to learn from him the Will and the Word. He then charged us to oversee your earth and the stars, which are dreams in themselves. Sometimes we can talk with him, but you do not summon him lightly. My name is Yaronei Ontiri Karindu, but I am called Ronei. I am a holder of the Will and the Word. I am an overseer of stars and of the earth and of dreams. I am a disciple of the One Creator and God. I am. And now it is time for you to sleep again, and awake to your world. Fear not, for your mother is alive, although captive. You will have to bring Elarviel here next time, though, because there is no one to care for her while you are here. Now sleep-and awake on Earth."
Elarviel gurgled in her crib, blissfully unaware of the tragedy going on from her mother¹s disappearance. Some people in uniforms had come after Aldarii did not show up for school for a few days, and they took one look at the hole in the air by his mothers¹ bedroom and went straight to the press, taking Aldarii and Elarviel with them. Scientists and famous people came into his mother¹s shabby apartment to stare at the gaping hole in the air itself. Newspapers and magazines interviewed Aldarii until he was too exhausted to do much of anything. He said he didn¹t want to be interviewed, but they ignored him until he finally yelled at them to leave him alone.
Aldarii stirred in his sleep.
You may be picking up this book asking yourself why you are, but I might ask you the same thing, so we are even. If you have picked up this book while looking for a book of fighting and glorious battles, of knights of old and of fair maidens, then this may be the book for you, and then again it may not. For this is a book of dreams. Dreams of what have been, what are, and what may yet come to pass. If you have ever wondered what dreams really are, beneath the things adults say about how they are a part of your imagination? Most of us have. And here, in this book, I shall tell you a great secret, perhaps the greatest of secrets. I am going to tell you what dreams are.
Chapter One Life in the Apartment
A boy of about 14 years walked down a dirty alley in London, amid sounds and smells that no boy should have to hear or smell. This boy looked strangely child like; although he was growing more with each passing season, he retained a clean, innocent, young look, which led some people to think he was but a child of 10 or 11. He lived in this alley, with his mother and baby sister. But something was very special in this boy, some sort of virus of which most adults would disapprove and try to stomp out. Nevertheless it lived in this boy of whom we speak, and as to why it had not gotten stomped out we shall let be. This boy¹s name was Aldarii. A very strange name you might say, and he though so too. The other boys he knew were rough and crude and made fun of him all the time because of this name. His mother had always told him that it came from olden days in England when all was not city and road, and when the Celts still roamed free. She had said that it meant in a long forgotten tongue of theirs "The one of dreams." Aldarii wanted to believe that she had made it up, but that strange virus in him refused to let him. He believed every word of it. "Mama, I¹m home" said the boy. Usually he was quiet and brooding, unless he felt like taunting the gang, but today he felt strangely ready to talk. "Come on in, you scamp! I¹ve got a butter and jelly sandwich for you." "Coming." Aldarii as a rule never ran or talked unless he had to, the former of which unfortunately he had to do quite often, for he was tall but skinny, and the other boys in the gang loved to pick on him. He personally thought them all a bunch of pricks. Usually he got away from them, for he was swift of foot. He took everything very seriously, almost like a battle, though he never played with army soldiers like other boys do. As Aldarii stepped into the apartment, he thought once again to himself, "I need to help Mother and my sister to get a better house. They deserve better than this pit." And a pit it was indeed. Broken chairs lay about, and only their small apartment was kept clean at all. The ceiling tiles were cracked and broken, and in some places one could not trust the floor to hold him, although Aldarii was light enough to go in most places. Worst of all, the building had rats. Big rats, the size of footballs, who would crawl onto your feet and nip if you let them. You may ask, "How could anyone live there?" but they did. And they were still happy most of the time. Life was hard for them, for Mother could not get a good job since their father had left, but they were happy. The strange, beautiful little virus thrived there. Aldarii despised his father, more than anything else. It was his fault they had to live here; his fault that his Mother hadn¹t a good job; his fault that his sister, Elarviel, had no father; his fault for everything.
School has not gone well today, he thought, as he sat down and began to eat his butter and jelly sandwich. I¹m smart, but they never explain how to do things; especially math. Math is hard.
He looked up and saw that Mama wasn¹t eating. Again. She was getting so thin?
"Mama, you have to eat. You are getting so pale and thin. Here, eat the other half of my Sandwich; I¹m not hungry anymore."
"That¹s ok, honey, you finish up; I¹ll eat something later."
That¹s what she always says.
Aldarii finished his sandwich as Elarviel began to cry.
************************************************************************
Elarviel¹s quiet gurglings woke Aldarii up the following morning, in sharp contrast to her cries of yesterday.
Unlike many children, Aldarii loved to get up on a fresh new day, and absolutely would not lie in bed until his mother made him get up. As got dressed and slowly walked from his room into the kitchen, he tried to recall the past night¹s dream. Small fragments of it floated on the edges of his mind, and, strive as he might, he could not grasp them, and they remained as insubstantial mist. He knew that he would have to wait until he fell asleep again to remember it and continue it.
His mother was already up and making breakfast. Aldarii sighed. She was working herself too hard. He worried over what might happen to her. Though he was only 14 years, he thought deeply about such things, and he knew instinctively that his Mother was trying to handle too much.
He smelled the bacon and eggs¹ odors, wafting from the kitchen like glimpses of heaven. No matter if we can afford it or not, Mother will always buy and make good food, he thought proudly.
"Breakfast, honey; bring Elarviel."
"Yes mother."
But first he went in and lovingly gave his Mother a big hug.
"Oh, you?" she said deprecatingly, but underneath her scolding lay a warm blanket of love, which she spread whenever she could over her beloved children.
Breakfast was excellent, and afterwards Elarviel let out a squeal of blissful and ignorant contentedness. Aldarii was certain it was the most beautiful sound since the dawn of the earth. Mother let out one of her rare smiles. It was good to see her smile that way again.
"Oh my, it¹s almost time for school. Hurry and try not to miss the bus!"
The delicate timbre of the moment was shattered like a still pool as a rock is thrown at it by dumb idiots as Aldarii¹s Mother looked at the clock. It was an old clock, given to her a long time ago from someone Aldarii had never heard of. He suddenly wished to know who had given it to her; it seemed somehow important.
However he might have liked to know the clock¹s history, his Mother was right; he had to get to school. He jerked on socks, ignoring the fact that the heel of on was in the front.
As he hopped on the bus seconds before it took off, he looked back at his sorry little alley, feeling sad that they couldn¹t live in a good house like other people. By rights they should be in a nice suburb or at least in a decent apartment.
But it couldn¹t be so; at least not now, and Aldarii was given little time to think over such things as the chaos of the bus ensued. His school day had officially begun.
************************************************************************
Taunts were thrown back and forth like dirty laundry while Aldarii sat numbly on a cold, hard seat on the bus. 6th graders hit each other and mercilessly spilled all the secrets of their own friends. 10th, 11th, and 12th graders made out in the back of the bus, among other things. The bus driver seemed to disdain his passengers, or to even be unaware that they were even there. He did nothing to intervene. Elementary schoolers squabbled and tried to trade lunches and lunchboxes; when that failed they resorted to force a deal. Aldarii hated the society of the bus. The audacity, immaturity, and corruption of the people in it disgusted him. He adamantly looked out the window. "Hey Dairy, what are you doing over there?" Eddy Dill. Aldarii was his favorite subject and his favorite victim. He noticed droplets of steam forming on the window from his breath. "How¹s your apartment?" The droplets slowly moved down the window. "I wonder what your mom is doing for money nowadays." Aldarii could take it no longer. "Keep your tongue behind your mouth, scum." "Ooh, did you hear that? He talks almost as weird as he looks." Some of the other children on the bus smirked or snickered at him. Aldarii didn¹t mind being made fun of, but his mother was another case. As the bus pulled to a stop, he waited until Eddy was just ahead of him, and as they got to the door of the bus, he shoved Eddy as hard as he could off the steps?and into the "School Zone" sign. Eddy didn¹t look to good as his thick head bounced off the metal sign post, he noticed with satisfaction. "Don¹t you ever make fun of my Mother again. She is twice as noble, kind, and loving as your Mother will ever be." A few drops of blood sluggishly slid down Eddy¹s face. He punched Aldarii in the stomach. Aldarii crumpled to the ground. Then the crossing guard, a stern but decent looking 11th grader, took Eddy off of him and hauled him up to his feet. Not even bothering to ask what happened, he brought them both to the Director¹s office. The Director was a pinch-faced woman in her mid-50¹s, and had the temper of a belligerent wasp. "What happened here?" she demanded. Eddy naturally piped right up, saying, "Aldarii pushed me off the bus and into a sign and gave me a bloody nose and made fun of my mom." "Is this true?" The director glared at Aldarii. She had always thought him an unnatural child, probably because of the little virus in him. "Yes." Aldarii felt no need to tattle the whole story, and he didn¹t mind being punished. "You will be sent home for the day." He nodded, and watched Eddy leave the room with a evil grin.
************************************************************************
"What happened?" Aldarii had almost forgotten that his Mother had decided to take this day off to be with Elarviel and to clean the house. It was not as if she made much money at her work anyway, he had thought glumly. Mother was not mad with him over being sent home from schoo, but he could tell from the sad look on her face that she was disappointed. He began to cry. He did not mind crying; he did not understand why everyone else was ashamed of it. "He was making fun of you; he said that you were dishonorable. I pushed him, and then he knocked the wind out of me." His Mother already had him in her arms, and was rocking him back and forth gently. "My Aldarii; so mature, so young. My child of dreams." Aldarii half heard this, and continued to rock in his mother¹s arms. After he was feeling better, his mother held him out at arms length and said to him, "Why don¹t you go what you want to do. You¹ve had a hard day. Aldarii slowly brightened up. Perhaps during your free time you play with your friends, or perhaps you read a good book, or walk in the woods alone. Perhaps you simply go to sleep, have some dreams, and take a nap. Perhaps. But all too often now, children like you and I do not do these excellent things. Instead, they watch this thing they call the television, or TV. Or they play videogames on computers and other fancy gadgets that were made up just for people to waste time on. Children like this never get anywhere. It is children like you and I, who play outside and read and walk and sleep who do great things in this world. Well Aldarii didn¹t have any friends, except for his little sister, who he thought was the most beautiful little girl in the entire world. Some sisters whine and annoy boys like you and I, and we get mad at them and sometimes dislike them. Not so with Elarviel and Aldarii. Aldarii loved Elarviel so dearly that he would have fought a thousand of the greatest dragons that had ever lived for her. She was his princess. Nor did Aldarii live by woods to walk and play in. He could not afford to buy many books at all. He only had a few treasured books on the bottom of his and Elarviel¹s room. He knew these books like the back of his hand. There was The Adventures of Robin Hood, King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, The Innocents At Large, and Grimms Fairy Tales. Perhaps you have read these books, and then perhaps you haven¹t. But you should. As for these videogames and television, Aldarii had seen other boys doing these things, and he scorned them for wasting time on such wicked and empty things. So naturally, Aldarii read these books during his free time, and when he wasn¹t reading them, he slept and dreamt. And he did love his dreams. He dreamt of woods and gurgling streams, mountains wrapped in clouds, and mysterious valleys covered in faery mist. He dreamt of beings of Faery and Elves. He frollicked and danced with the Faery¹s, and learnt the lore of the land from the noble and elusive Elves. But for a while he had been aware of something calling him away from his wanderings; some strange purpose. He knew he would have to answer that call soon. Now you may be laughing in your hearts or out loud at these dreams of Altarii, but these were all very real things, and he loved them as he loved himself. On this afternoon Altarii decided to read a few pages of Grimm¹s Fairy Tales. He read all afternoon, and then went for a walk down the old, dump of an alley he lived it. He focused on the sky and on the birds who wheeled gracefully in it instead, and took his joy from them. By the time he got home it was suppertime, and Mother and Elarviel were waiting patiently for him. Home made bread came fresh out of the old oven in the corner of the kitchen. A small bar of butter was lying near it on a plastic plate. A large bowl of rice finished off the meal. "Looks wonderful, Mother." "Why thank you!" They enjoyed dinner together, and Aldarii delighted himself in feeding Elarviel little pieces of his bread, and giving her sips of milk from her bottle. His Mother at this night, and he was pleased at that. She already was beginning to look better. After everyone was done, he got ready for bed, and went into his and Elarviel¹s room. Elarviel was already asleep, with his Mother crooning lovingly over her. Mother is so beautiful, he thought. He tiptoed up to her and gave her a little tap. She turned around, and mouthed "I love you; goodnight and sweet dreams." "I love you too, goodnight," he mouthed back. His Mother quietly left the room. While he had been planning to go straight to bed, he decide now to read some more of Grimms Fairy Tales before going into dreams. However, despite this decision, he had scarce finished the first sentence of the book before he fell into a deep sleep. And this is what he dreamed.
Chapter 2 The Talk
Amid an ancient forest of warped, mossy trees, a boy stood. Aldarii seemed to float down from the sky, as if he was in one of those machines that so often flew over London (what were they called again?). As he did so, he saw that the boy was not bad looking, though very skinny and rather gangly. He had tussled dark hair that fell over his eyebrows, but somehow seemed to avoid his eyes. And what eyes they were. They seemed to be a plain brown, but somehow their was a golden light behind them, as if they hid something spectacular that few had ever seen before. His skin was light compared to most of the tanner boys where he had lived (where did he live?). The boy looked around. The trees surrounding him seemed to almost be breathing. There were very few trees where the boy lived, (where did he live?) but he knew that these trees were nothing like them. These trees, he was certain, each had their own name. They whispered to him, telling him of days when they had been young, and could still see the sun over their canopy. They told him of how the scatter rocks around them had once been carved in shapes of leaves, stacked into great pillars. They told him of the temple those stones had once been, before age took both them and their makers into the forgotten annals of time. And then, they told him his name. His true name. "Aldarun. The Savior of Dreams. The One of Dreams." And fainter; "Aldarun?Savior?Dreams?The One." The boy listened hard for more, but the trees whispering for the moment became lost to him. Of a sudden, Aldarii became startled, realizing that he had been in the boy¹s mind. Now perhaps you already have guessed who this boy was, and now Aldarii knew. The boy was him. His vision slowly melted from a view from above, into his body¹s perceptions. He was in himself again. "So you have heard the voice of the trees of Dariel." Aldarii spun around and saw a strange looking old man. The man was dressed in little more than rags and an old, careworn gray cloak. His nose was very long, and he had an unkempt beard that went down to his chest. In his hand was a crooked staff with a strange glass ball on top. Despite his uncouth appearance, the man was somehow beautiful. He had a sort of aura about him; one that was old and worn, but still powerful. Aldarii looked closer at the glass ball on top of the staff. The colors of the glass, he was sure now, were alive. They moved with the vigor of lightning and the grace of a swan. Aldarii got the strange impression that this raggedy old man could crush him with a word. "You have heard the voices of the trees. Good." "What does that mean." "What?" "What does what trees say mean." "Sh. Follow me. There are other ears here." The old man motioned for Aldarii to follow him through an ancient stone door he had not seen before. No one should have been able to lift that door open. It was at least 7 feet long and 5 feet wide. Aldarii was sure for some reason that it was solid rock. The old man lifted it like it was nothing. "Well, come on now, what are you waiting for, boy?" the man said grumpily. "Move it, I¹ve come a long way for this on orders from higher up." Aldarii went through the door and into the tunnel. Dark surrounded him until the old man made a strange motion with his hand. The glass ball on top of the staff glowed in all its colors, emitting a dancing light upon the stone passageway. "Get used to it. Everybody looks at my it that way at first." Aldarii decided not to say anything. They went along the stone passageway as the strange light flickered across the smooth walls. As Aldarii looked more closely at the stone, he saw, to his awe, that it had strips of crystal in it. "It looks rather pretty, does it? Watch this." The old man stuck out an edge of his robe to touch the crystal. It appeared shockingly that the edge of his robe went right through the crystal. However, when he took it out, the edge of his robe was gone and the end was sizzling. "Heh. It¹s burning crystal. Don¹t touch it."
Walking on in this mysterious passageway, Aldarii wished the old man would say something to break the silence of it all. As if reading his thoughts, the old man grudgingly said, "So you live in London?"
"Yes."
"With your Mother and sister, right?"
"Yes."
"You certainly don¹t say much do you, boy?"
"Not unless I have to, no."
"Well considering you were just wishing that I would say something, that¹s rather rude of you not to continue a decent conversation I started for your own comfort."
"Sorry. I just never really liked to talk much; it seems strange to me."
"Well, if you are just rattling of for no reason, it¹s not too great. But you should talk more."
"I¹ll try."
"Good."
Aldarii was plagued with the question of how this strange old man knew that he had wanted him to talk. They kept on walking for time interminable, and finally Aldarii asked the question that had been bothering him since he had seen this strange, grumpy old man. "Are you a magician?" The old man sighed with annoyance. "Sorcerer, if you please." "Then, can you do magic?" "I guess you could call it that, but all it¹s just the Will and the Word. We have no time to talk about such things now. Here we are." And there they were. In a magnificent cavern with crystal stalactites and stalagmites jutting out of the ground like the teeth of some monster of ice. There was a round circle of stone in the center, where light shone down upon it from a crystal ceiling. Two chairs of a strange wood sat opposite on another, waiting for them to sit on them, after centuries of disuse. The old man sighed, as if remembering a sad, ancient memory. "Come boy, we have much to talk about."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Well. Do you know who you are?"
"I am Aldarii. But the trees called me Aldartun, and I am sure that is my real name. But what did they mean by calling me the savior of dreams?"
"Aldartun; savior of dreams. It speaks for itself. You are the savior of dreams."
"Why do dreams need to be saved? I do not understand." The old man became grave; which was rather disconcerting, because of his amusingly cynical grumpiness a moment before.
"Not everyone has your kind of dreams, Aldartun. You are a rahk shielach; you have the ability to travel and create in your dreams. In fact; there are no longer any rahk shielach at all. Except for you."
The old man sighed.
"Yes, there were many once; but no more."
Aldarii suddenly asked, "What happened to them?" As soon as he did so, he felt, like a shadow of winter, that it was something terrible.
"Many things. At one time the ran shardonai were great leaders of people, and all loved them, for they created much that was good and magical. But after many an age of peace and prosperity; interspersed with adventures and magnificient journeys and discoveries of lands in the sky and islands in the earth, there was born the accursed one. The accursed one was a ran shardonai, but he was evil from the very time he was born. He created much evil in his time, and while he lived all the other ran shardonai vanished into obscurity. The accursed one died shortly after causing everlasting chaos in the world, but the damage was indeed done. In the years that have followed, various things have happened to the ran sharadonai; burnings, assassinations, charges of witchcraft; at any rate; they all died; until only one was left. Her name was Idrili, and before she died of exhaustion in the white mountains of the west, she made a prophesy; a prophesy that one would be born who would again find the true meaning of dreams, and bring them back to the world. She prophesied you. You are to be the savior of dreams. All people¹s dreams save yours are filled with chaos, whether happy or sad or evil. It should not be so. Dreams are holy things where the Gods speak to men, and tell them what is willed of them. It is where men find the hope to live and find inspiration for all that they never thought they could do. But now that real dreams are gone, the civilizations of the world are falling apart; whether because of too much progress or because they are remaining still and are being left behind. Things cannot stay this way any longer, because something is about to happen that will ruin all hope of your success. You must find what dreams are now." Aldarii sat in silence for a long time, before finally saying, "I can¹t do this." "Don¹t disagree with me. You can." "Well then how am I going to do it? It¹s impossible." "Impossible is probably my least favorite word, boy. You are going to journey to Onun Cimun, the land of past dreams. I know during your dreams you love to go around in the faery mists and in the woods of the Elves, but you are going to have to leave that behind. You have something more important to do now no matter how little you might like it. From there you will journey through various people¹s dreams; both from before the accursed one and after, until you find the dream."
"What is the dream, if you don¹t mind?" Aldarii was getting a bit angry with this. However, that little virus in him made him believe what this old man, who most people would call insane, said.
"Only you can tell that. And when you find the dream-well, we¹ll see what happens then."
"We? You are going with me?"
"Why, my boy, you didn¹t think you were going alone, did you?"
"I don¹t even know you."
"Sure you do; you just don¹t remember. I suspect some other creatures will be joining us too as we go along. You will be dreaming this; but it is also real, although I suspect for you that will be a bit confusing. So, how soon can you be ready?"
Aldarii did not understand much at all of what the old man had said, but he figured that he didn¹t have anything much better to do during his dreams, except for his roamings. And he had a strange feeling that this was the call he had been hearing and waiting for.
However, he did not like the sound of it when the old man had said "creatures."
Chapter 3 The Tower and Its Contents
He awoke in the morning dimly aware of what had transpired the past night. It was raining gently, and he could hear the patter of the drops on the building¹s walls. Aldarii loved rain; it felt very exciting and somehow special when a raindrop landed on him; as if some kind of unspoken agreement had already been made between some higher power and the raindrop that it¹s destiny was to make him wet.
Elarviel was curled up on her sleeping mat, breathing quietly. He walked over and watched her for a few minutes before walking over to the Kitchen to make breakfast.
He absently got out some bacon and turned on the cheap plug-in griddle. As the griddle began to steam, he put the bacon on and waited for a few minutes for it to brown nicely. While doing this, he noticed that he hadn¹t heard or seen his mother. Perhaps you are used to your mother sleeping in, and not seeing her till later in the morning, but Aldarii¹s mother was very punctual about waking up early to prepare meals and take care of Elarviel. He decided that after the bacon was done, he would check in and make sure she was all right.
The bacon lay in a neat pile on a plastic platter as Aldarii walked from the room.
"Mother? Breakfast¹s ready."
A permeating silence was all that answered him. However, he did see a hazy purple mist seeping slowly out from behind the door.
"Mother?"
He tried to open the door, but it was locked. He began to pound on it, and when he rammed it, it burst off of it¹s cheap aluminum hinges and fell inwards.
No one was there, but there was a queer smelling purple mist still trailing out from what could only be described as a hole in the air.
Aldarii did not scream or cry out, but rather, despite the urgency of the moment, he stumbled over to his mother bed, and, falling on it, went into dreams.
Beside the dreaming Aldarii, the clock read 6:66.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Blast. This complicates things."
Aldarii and the old man were in room at the top of an ancient stone tower. Around them a savage blizzard swirled and blew as the candles lighting the room flickered and swayed in it¹s fury, despite the latched windows. A fire crackled almost grudgingly in the fireplace by the old man¹s desk, which was littered with musty yellowed parchments. Around the room lay cluttered numerous strange things, some which Aldarii had heard of and some which he had not, and some which had no apparent use whatsoever.
"Where is my mother? Did you take her somewhere?"
"Me? No, boy, not me. He did it. He took your mother. Only question is where and when he took her."
"Who¹s he? Where¹s Abbadon? What do you mean ?when¹ he took her?"
"He is the Overlord of Evil, once a star in the sky, but banished by the God¹s to the fiery pits of Abbadon. Ah, I keep forgetting Abbadon is hell to you new people. Nasty place; you wouldn¹t want to go there, let me tell you. Anyway, there He has waited until you came along. You can move in time as well as in space, don¹t you know. Haven¹t you read Eddison¹s theory about the speed of light being-oh, blast it all."
"But-"
"Be quiet, boy, I¹m trying to think! Where could he have taken her." He made a strange gesture with his hand and said, "Think no more of your mother¹s captivity until I tell you."
And Aldarii, despite his shock and panic, thought no more on it, but, strangely, became rather apathetic about the whole thing.
The old man strode over to the desk that was covered with parchments with stunning energy for one so aged. He shuffled through them, picking out some and setting them in a pile. After this he took his selected pile and began reading them furiously.
Who was this old man anyway, Aldarii wondered, and why should he believe him about all this rubbish concerning the meaning of dreams and how he had to find them? He knew by some intuitive instinct that what the old man said was true, but his mind, despite the persistent and faithful virus, had spent too much time in the changed world, and would not let him believe.
Besides, this old man is so grumpy and mean; I am going to show him that he¹s not my boss at all. I¹m leaving.
And with that, Aldarii walked over to the door he has espied while waiting for the old man to finish his thinking. He opened it quietly, and went down the staircase revealed by it¹s opening, leaving the old man, back towards him, unaware that he had moved an inch.
The staircase went on for a long time. Aldarii counted the steps as he went down. At step 349 he heard the old man give a yell of surprise, presumably upon his finding out that his protégé had evacuated the area. Aldarii didn¹t stop to think about it.
At step 528 he stopped to take a breather, although he heard the old man still far above him running down the stairs in leaps and bounds. Suddenly the leaping stopped, and Aldarii heard a crash, as of window panes breaking. With a horrid clarity, he saw the old man tripping over a crooked stair and falling through one of those beautiful stained glass windows that appeared regularly on the way down the staircase. Aldarii leapt up and ran down the stairs, unconsciously counting as he went. At step 777 he came to the bottom. He had not noticed this, but, as he went down, the spiral staircase got wider and wider until, at the base, the walls on the inside opened up and a vast room appeared before the boy.
And a great room it was. Fountains of sparkling water sprang out of the mouths of sculptures of cherubim and seraphim to land gracefully in silver basins. Carven pillars supported the vast roof of the room, and the floor was one gigantic mosaic of faeries and elves, of unicorns and hippogriffs, and in the center, a huge stone sculpture, covered with jewels to fit the colors, a majestic dragon rose up out of the floor.
Now perhaps you have seen pictures of dragons in your time, but I can assure you with utmost certainty that this dragon was nothing like the one¹s you have seen. Its scales were of a deep purple color, and it¹s eyes were of sapphire blue, with pupils of fire. Its mouth had an almost cynical cast to it, and despite the sharp and deadly-looking teeth in it, bore a sort of kindly look. Its tail went on for at least twice the length of its body, to end in a curl about one massively muscled foreleg. Its wings were vast, and spread out above and beyond it¹s body till they almost touched the high roof of the room.
How long Aldarii stared at this sculpture of this wondrous creature none will ever know, but at long last a purring voice said to him in a highly satirical pitch, "You don¹t need to stare at it all day, you know. That¹s only plain old Ayornagon."
Aldarii spun around, and saw a creature like none he had seen before. It had long, slender, but well muscled legs, and a catlike face, but with a mouth that could plainly be seen to be capable of speech. A pointed horn was upon its forehead, and small spines went all down it¹s back, lying down upon one another. A short, pointy tail stuck out from its body, and a golden crown rested upon the forehorn.
"What are you staring at, human?"
"I-I¹ve never seen a creature like you before."
"Oh, really?" The cat creature sniffed disdainfully. "What a plain and uninteresting star you must come from."
"Pardon me, but I don¹t come from a star. Are we really on a star?"
"Of course we are on a star. Where else did you think we were?" The cat creature eyed him suspiciously. "If you truly don¹t come from a star, then where do you come from?"
"From earth."
At this statement the strange little creature seemed to take quite a shock.
"You are from earth? The earth? The earth of our ancestors?"
"Well," Aldarii answered awkwardly, "yes, I guess so."
He could tell this would be a strange conversation.
"Is it true what they say about it?" the cat creature asked with wonder in its eyes.
"Well?what do they say about it?"
"Oh all sorts of things. Do you really have things, animals, that sort of look like us, but can¹t talk, but only go ?mrrrroooowwww¹?"
She sounded exactly like a cat.
"Oh yes. Cats."
"Really," she sniffed, "is that what you call them? Inferior creatures, in my opinion, if they can¹t talk, in fact-"
But here she was broken off by a huge creaking noise, as of stone bending, if that can be imagined. She took one look behind her and then scurried out of the huge stone room fast as a lightning bolt.
Aldarii looked away from the fleeing cat creature and in front of him; what he saw could have killed him from shock, if he hadn¹t already seen so many amazing things this dream.
The Dragon was no longer merely a statue; its scales were real, and undulating as it stretched itself. Its ponderous wings created huge gusts in the air, that shook the very foundations of the earth. Its pupils flashed fire as it looked around it, seemingly searching for something. Then it¹s gaze fell upon the boy standing alongside it. No Aldarii understood what the cat creature had meant when it said "That¹s only plain old Ayornagon," although this creature was anything but plain. Bedecked with jewels and horns with wicked curves to them. It had metallically tinted colors ranging from dark purple to azure on its body, and red lining around its eyes; its brow protruded shelf-like over them, giving them protection. These fearsome eyes flashed as it looked around it, seemingly searching for something. Smoke and little tongue of flame issued forth from between its bared teeth. Then it¹s roving gaze fell upon the boy standing alongside it.
"Ah, there you are, child. Long have my eyes waited to set their stare upon thee."
Aldarii could not help but cringe at both the dragon¹s visage and its booming voice; it somehow seemed unnatural for the betoothed mouth to form words, but it did.
"Fear not. Have they been telling those tales about us on earth again? Foolish men. They shun those who work for them and welcome those who seek to fulfill their ruin. I have no wish to harm you."
Now that Aldarii listened more closely to the dragon¹s voice, he noticed that it had a sort of undertone that could only be described at maternal and loving. He now understood that from this dragon, at least, he had nothing to fear.
"Come now, chosen one. I have not slept centuries to do nothing when I wake. Upon my back; we go to find the old sorcerer."
Despite his overcoming his fear, Aldarii had hesitated to follow the magnificent dragon¹s instructions. He glanced appraisingly at all the spines and horns on various parts of the dragon¹s body.
"Climb on! Are you afeared to take up your heritage?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why, don¹t you know who you are? You are a dreamer; and I am the creature of dreams. We go together; you on me and I on the air. Climb up upon my back from behind my hindleg."
Aldarii gazed upon the dragon, and realized that this majestic creature was indeed the creature of dreams. A creature as magnificent as it could exist no where else. He reveled in the fact that he was a rider of dragons, while wondering what his heritage was that it would pass on such a noble trait. He climbed on the dragon, seating himself behind the hump at the base of it¹s neck.
"That¹s better. Now I wonder; how will I get out of here?"
Aldarii knew there was only one answer to that question.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Flying was better than anything Aldarii had ever done in dream or in wake. The air was blowing in his face, although he was sheltered from its full strength, which would have surely blown him off, had it hit him full on.
The best part was that the dragon seemed to enjoy having someone riding him. He swooped and dove seemingly just to hear his rider let out cries of fear followed by whoops of joy.
"So," Aldarii cried against the wind as they flew, "your name is Ayornagon?"
Something strange then happened. Aldarii saw the dragon¹s face, even though he shouldn¹t have been able to, being seated behind the dragon¹s head as he was. But he did see it, or rather thought he saw it; he saw it in his mind¹s eye. The dragon¹s face had an annoyed look on it.
"Has Delinde been talking to you?"
"Who¹s Delinde? That cat creature?"
"Ah yes. Cats. It¹s been quite some time since I¹ve eaten one of them." At this Aldarii blanched, but the dragon, seeming not to notice, continued. "Yes, that¹s her. She always was mischievously formal. Ayornagon is my name, but I am called Ayorn, just as you are called Aldarii rather than Aldartun."
"You know my true name?"
"Child, I have known your true name centuries before you were born. You are my reason for existing."
This statement was a bit too profound for Aldarii to consider it fully. Rather, he thought back to a moment ago when he had seen the dragon¹s face in his mind.
Ayorn seemed to read his thoughts.
"So you have already found the talent of mind-communication. I thought it would be a while before you did."
"What¹s that? Do you mean when I just saw your face in my mind? Did you just read my mind?"
"That¹s what those charlatans from earth call it. But no one can truly read anyone else¹s mind. Only individual thoughts or pictures, and that only sometimes."
Aldarii held his peace for several moments, pondering this new insight to his ever-growing dream identity.
In the midst of this fun an blue eagle, a creature, to Aldarii, altogether unheard of, alighted in front of him on the dragon¹s back. Despite its unusual color, Aldarii was not surprised. He had a feeling this bird was not what it seemed.
He was right. The strange eagle blurred and faded into the old man.
"I was wondering how long it would be before you noticed us," Ayorn said mockingly.
"Shut up. Boy, what have you been doing? Who told you to go out of that room?"
"No one but myself." Aldarii felt vaguely insulted for being interrupted in such a profound time as this in the way the old man had interrupted him. "I was getting tired of you being so crabby to me and ignoring me."
Ayorn did what could only be called laughing, if indeed a dragon can laugh. The boom of it shook the air and halted the wind.
"I told you to shut up. Don¹t you think that I can¹t turn your wings to lead, you hunk of scale covered meat. Boy, you can¹t do that; if something really did happen to you, then we could have been in real trouble. You need to not do that kind of stuff. At least tell me first."
"Alright. But please stop treating me like a little child."
"Hrmph."
Aldarii took that as a yes.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ayorn flew them back down to the tower, with the many stone he had knocked out from the exit lying in powdery piles.
"You blundering idiot," the old man said, "look what you¹ve done to my tower!"
"How else was I to get out?"
The old man said nothing, but grunted perfunctorily.
Aldarii scrambled off of Ayorn¹s back as they landed, and tried to walk. He found that as soon as he was on the ground again his legs were wobbling and shaking like a pair of uprooted saplingsin an angry nor¹easter.
"Don¹t try running off just yet; it is hard your first time," the old man said as he nimbly hopped down and walked calmly over to him.
Aldarii was mildly jealous of the old man¹s seeming imperviousness to the afteraffects of flying. He, stumbling, along with the old man, went into the tower. Ayorn stayed outside.
Walking up the stairs in silence, Aldarii noticed the carvings on the sides of the walls. They were magnificent, but as soon as Aldarii passed them, he forgot them, never to remember them again, until the next time he would pass. They were magical, he was sure. Little sparks of shining crystal shone merrily in the stone carvings of creatures known and unknown; and these creatures seemed to move, as did the crystals, swirling around them and outlining them in starry graceful lines.
The silence was broken as the old man asked him in a strangely hushed voice, "do you know why you left like that?"
"Well, I saw you just ignoring me and talking to me like a little child, and suddenly a weird anger rose up in me, telling me to leave."
"I thought it might be so. But so soon."
"What?"
"It was the presence of a Kar Noruun, an inhabiter. It spoke to your feelings and senses to try and get you to leave. When this happens to you, as it will again, you must not listen to it."
"That anger was a different being in me? That¹s impossible. Why would it be talking to me anyway?"
"First, nothing is impossible. Second, don¹t you understand anything of what I¹ve said? You are all important. You are the only one who can find what dreams are, and give true dreams back to the earth. If that happens, then all of the evil which the Dark One sowed into your earth when he took your people¹s dreams would be destroyed."
"Why are dreams so important anyway?"
"What would you do, boy, if you didn¹t have dreams like you do?"
"I don¹t know."
"Exactly. No one else has dreams like yours on your earth; it¹s only you. They are hopeless, like you would be if you had no true dreams. Men on your earth dream of money and riches and women; and worst of all, of so called "progress" which destroys your world. They dream of metal and of machinery; of complicated things that do everything for you. And their dreams aren¹t even real. Where do you think you are right now?"
"In a dream?"
"Yes. We are in a dream; but that is just it; dreams; true dreams, like this one is. But the meaning is not in any true dream save one; the first dream. The dream that my master, the creator himself, made and dreamt in the beginning of beginnings."
"Then your master knows the true meaning of dreams?"
"Yes. He knows all."
"Then why doesn¹t he just tell us and get it over with?"
"Because he has chosen not to interfere, and because this is your purpose; without it, there is no reason for you being alive at all."
Aldarii thought for a moment.
"Who are you?"
Now that he looked at the old man again, he realized that he had a kind of aura about him; a sort of sense that permeated the very air surrounding him with power.
"I was wondering when you were going to ask that and see me." The old man grinned. "I am one of the disciples of the Creator, who, in the beginning of man and of creatures and other beings, chose some of us to live with him and to learn from him the Will and the Word. He then charged us to oversee your earth and the stars, which are dreams in themselves. Sometimes we can talk with him, but you do not summon him lightly. My name is Yaronei Ontiri Karindu, but I am called Ronei. I am a holder of the Will and the Word. I am an overseer of stars and of the earth and of dreams. I am a disciple of the One Creator and God. I am. And now it is time for you to sleep again, and awake to your world. Fear not, for your mother is alive, although captive. You will have to bring Elarviel here next time, though, because there is no one to care for her while you are here. Now sleep-and awake on Earth."
Elarviel gurgled in her crib, blissfully unaware of the tragedy going on from her mother¹s disappearance. Some people in uniforms had come after Aldarii did not show up for school for a few days, and they took one look at the hole in the air by his mothers¹ bedroom and went straight to the press, taking Aldarii and Elarviel with them. Scientists and famous people came into his mother¹s shabby apartment to stare at the gaping hole in the air itself. Newspapers and magazines interviewed Aldarii until he was too exhausted to do much of anything. He said he didn¹t want to be interviewed, but they ignored him until he finally yelled at them to leave him alone.
Aldarii stirred in his sleep.