8-21-03, updated 3-13-04, 8-14-04
General Disclaimer: Nights, Reala, Jackle, and the Nightopians are registered trademarks of SEGA of America, Inc. and used without permission. The story, Loben, Lilith, and Dozer are © 2004 JetherWing.
Author's Note: After long last, here is part three, as I promised. This section is rated R for language and violence, and just plain dark stuff. FYI: I had to reload this chapter because for some reason the second part of this chapter was cut out when it loaded. Sorry for the confusion.
The circus would only last for a day, it said. There would be a fireworks show at the very end—"Topping Off at the Big Top," the flyer said. What could be better?
She couldn't remember the last time that she was at a circus—if ever. Circuses were supposed to fill people with wonder. But she already felt something like that—a kind of limbo between waking and dreaming. She sometimes had the feeling that she was floating, not really touching the ground. There was an eerie calmness over her that made her want to stare off into nothing and then fall asleep. It gave her a false sense of safety. She couldn't find anything better to do with this feeling besides sitting and staring, and what better place to sit and stare than at a circus?
So she gathered her things and headed over there, headed over there like the other hundreds of people gathering like cattle at a waterhole. She sang a song, the voice so soft and slow that it lost all its musical tone. "In the dark—and the ash…that wasn't…there."
The circus tents looked like they once might have had dazzling colors like red, yellow, orange, green, blue, and purple, but now they were faded and stained with black mud. There were other funny tents, too…some made out of tan, transparent material. The material had black uneven stitches etched along it, and there was a dark pink outline on all of the edges. No one knew exactly what kind of skin it was, but no one really cared.
Among the rides, there was a most unusual carousel, one where the horses were nothing but bones with ragged skin hanging off. The saddles were black leather, constricting and cracking the bare ribs of the horse skeletons. Yet children and adult dreamers rode on them, rode on the rusty carousel that squeaked terribly and had sparks emit from underneath it every once in while. Some rode on it for a few seconds in mindless bliss before their eyes widened in horror, their breaths came out in raspy chokes, and then some would vanish from the Dreamworld, awakened from their fear. Some rode onward in a catatonic state, others smiled darkly.
There were strange people all around the carnival. There were people falling over laughing, people crying, people shouting. There was a fat man stirring some kind of pink slurry in a big steaming pot. The man wore a dirty apron, stained red and black. He pulled out the spoon occasionally, the meat clinging to it like some chunky bubble gum. The smell of the minced raw meat made the people's eyes water, but they lined up nonetheless to receive this raw flesh, sticky flesh wrapped around wooden sticks like cotton candy.
Nights watched with fascination—humans had the most surreal dreams sometimes. And as of now, Nights couldn't tell the difference between the dreamers and the other dream creatures.
"Hello, dear sir!"
That was the voice of a clown, a clown with a green wig and white painted face, a clown with dark red lips and a purple shiny suit. Nights had to look down because this clown was only three feet. He had a glass eye, too—one that stopped Nights' friendly reply. The black iris of the glass eye stayed in its place while the real eye rolled upwards to greet him. He kind of looked like a Nightopian.
Nights did not flinch at the sight, but now he did not blame human children for being scared of clowns. "I heard somewhere that wearing green at a circus is bad luck," Nights could only murmur in reply.
The clown only smiled back and handed him a lily. "For you, dear sir. Do you know why they call it a carnival?"
Nights shook his head quickly, shuddering at the thought that if the clown was any taller he would try to place the lily on his head. Nights knew that the clown was not a Nightopian. Nightopians weren't unsettling.
"The whole point of a carnival was to celebrate the last day that people could eat meat," the clown explained, fingering the white carnation on his suit. "Guess it's okay to go all out then, eh?" He gestured over to the man selling steamed flesh.
Nights couldn't tell anymore whether or not he had walked into the middle of a living nightmare or a dark fantasy.
The midget clown laughed too, something that sounded like an out of place music note. "I would go to the Big Top right now…our ringleader has a big surprise planned out." This time the glass eye rolled upwards and flashed in the light. "A fellow Nightmaren such as yourself wouldn't want to miss out on the fun…would you?"
Nights gulped and then headed onward towards the tent. He struggled to ignore the rest of the sights.
The ringleader had to be human. It was the only way that Nights could excuse the ringleader's appearance. The ringleader wore a tacky tuxedo of the primary colors—a red vest, a yellow blouse, with pants that were red, orange, and yellow striped. The tails of the silver coat had the same three colors embroidered on the ends, only they were in the shapes of flames.
The ringleader announced in a sing song voice, "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome one and welcome all! The Dead Dream Circus couldn't be happier to have such a wonderful, lively audience!" There was a roar of applause, making Nights jump. He immediately regretted sitting with the audience.
The ringleader wore goggles with reflective silver lens. They fastened on the back of the ringleader's head so tightly that Nights could see lumps of hair and flesh bulging out between the rubber straps. There was no way to see the ringleader's eyes.
"Of all the wonderful, lively sights in our circus, you, dear sirs and madams, have chosen the main event of our Big Top! Well…you are all about to find out what the word carnival really means then, eh?" The ringleader laughed aside, and Nights heard some members of the audience laugh along with him.
"Well, ladies and gentlemen…with-OUT further delay, we present to you…the offering…to the spirit of the Dead Circus." He slowly turned his eyes to the audience, the grin faded into something of reflective apprehension. Goosebumps sprouted on the back of Night's neck as he saw the ringleader hesitate again, lick his lips, grip the black shiny cane. Then the ringleader's eyes snapped back to the audience, and he smiled so wide that it looked as if the corners of the mouth would tear. "Bring forth the volunteer!!" The ringleader removed his top hat with a swift gesture, revealing his hair, hair so blonde that it was almost a sickly, transparent white.
And then there was a huge clear tank on the left, and then a tall rectangular box draped in black cloth on the right.
The ringleader's white teeth—they were too white and too big and too disproportionate. This ringleader had to be human—or at least a dream creation brought on by the inner darkness of a dreamer's subconscious. Nights was beginning to appreciate the Nightopians' dream duties.
The tank had some kind of fish, about the size of a small car, with jagged teeth and smooth puckered skin in place of its eye sockets. It was the same clear pigment as the hair on the ringleader's scalp.
The cloth was lifted from the box on the right—and there was a Nightopian, bound and gagged, struggling against its restraints.
"Don't worry, folks! This lovely volunteer is about to be seated comfortably…right here…oooh…" The Ringleader pointed with his cane at a thin wooden platform suspended right above the fish tank. It had appeared out of nowhere. He turned to the audience.
"While we're getting him ready, another volunteer will be picked from the audience. That lucky person gets to throw the ball at the target. If you hit the bullseye, then down goes our little friend! But don't worry folks…it's all part of the show! Why…he'll be just super!"
Nights leaned forward, but eager members of the audience blocked his view as they stood from their seats and raised their hands to be chosen. Their crowding and greediness for the glory of the Dead Dream Circus spotlight made him uneasy.
He heard a small voice straining from the center.
"This isn't real! This isn't real!"
Nights stood up and pushed a few spectators away. He began to shove his way through, trying not to trip down the stairs as he headed towards the center stage. He watched the bound Nightopian get closer to him. The gag on the Nightopian had been removed somehow.
"You all need to wake up!!" the Nightopian continued, pleading with the audience. "This—IS A TRAP!!! LISTEN!!"
There was a low murmur from the audience, and a few shifted uneasily. The ringleader, shaking his head, only laughed and said, "Why, ladies and gentlemen, is our little actor's skill so good that it would actually fool you? Relax! This is all part of the show, people!" He threw the Nightopian a warning gaze that only made it squirm more desperately. "The Dead Dream Circus promised a big event! We will thrill, chill, and even horrify—but we won't disappoint!"
Nights finally got close to the Nightopian, but he noticed that the audience had hushed. Nights realized that he was at the bottom, and had walked right into the spotlight. The ringleader's voice shattered the silence and made Nights jump.
"Oh…dear me, dear me…I'm sorry, son. Looks like we already found our lucky volunteer. But maybe next time, right?" The ringleader winked at him. Nights saw a small portly child in front of the tank, dizzy on the dream of being the center of attention. He gripped a black shiny eight ball in his hand. The ringleader did not say a word, and when Nights made eye contact with him a second time there was a strange sense of familiarity. This was all the time that the volunteer needed to throw the eight ball at the target.
When the ringleader heard the sound of the target being hit on the bulls-eye, he turned to the tank to watch the Nightopian plunge down into the water, smiling so wide that the skin of his mouth did crack open. But he only saw a purple blur and a splash as the giant monster fish thrust its head out of the water to gnash its teeth at the purple streak. Gray water splashed out of the tank, the eight ball rolled smoothly along the floor.
Nights flew upwards with the bound Nightopian, trying to undo the restraints.
"The audience is getting restless! THE SHOW MUST GO ON!!! Kyyahh-HA HA HA!!!"
Nights heard this shriek piercing above the other noises of the tent, followed by a loud crack as the ringleader bashed his cane against the glass tank in one swift, powerful stroke. There was a groan of the weight of the water as it strained against the widening crack of the glass. Nights also noticed that the monster fish was also choking, straining against something, an inward tremor. It emitted a strange high pitched squeal that made Nights wince and clench his eyes shut. And then both the fish and the tank shattered together, the gray water turning a strange brown tint from the severed entrails of the fish. The explosion of glass and water sent the audience into a panic. They began to stampede and scream as they struggled to make their way out of the big top tent. Nights quickly undid the knots of the ropes and freed the Nightopian. He was about to head downward when he felt the Nightopian grip his shoulder.
"What kind of nightmare is this?!" it questioned Nights. "There—there's something not right about this, they—''
But the Nightopian was cut off when it darted its eyes to the bottom and stared in horror. Nights slowly cast his eyes downward, feeling the presence of the ringleader.
The ringleader had been glaring at them hatefully, the big grin turned downwards, dark liquid trailing from both corners of the mouth. Nights took the Nightopian by the hand, headed downwards slowly to face the ringleader.
Nights saw the ringleader wink again, and then the skin on the ringleader's face began to stretch and contort. Nights watched, appalled, as the skin underneath the goggles stretched to reveal horizontal slits, the nostrils of the thin sharp nose expanding to a deformed pig look. The scalp split open in two, and withered downwards onto the floor. A pair of pointed tassels, looking almost like dog ears, emerged from the torn skin of the ringleader. Blue eyes and a smile that was nothing but triangular teeth greeted the stunned pair.
"EEEWWWUH—man!! That skin was stuffy…but a cozy shell, eh—HA!!" Jackle laughed, and his wet cape unfolded like wings from a cocoon. It sagged from the pinkish slime coating it. "What can I say, ladies and gentlemen…I'm a sucker for pranks!" He laughed at Nights, and then pointed at the furious Nightopian. "YOU were supposed to be dead by now! Ooooh—YOU!—you ruined the whole show!" He shook his finger at them in mock chastisement.
The sound of the clapping echoed loudly in the now empty circus tent. They all turned and faced the empty audience chairs, seeing only a lone figure. It was the same height as Nights, with the same long tassels that reached past the hips, and it levitated in the same manner as Nights.
Nights' heart skipped a beat…he thought he smelled something rotten, thought he saw something red on the clothes of the figure.
The Nightopian was gripping its head with its two little flesh colored hands. "But that's impossible—he's dead—it's in the Records! He's gone!" It hid behind Nights, peeped out from over his shoulder. "You—you killed him yourself!"
"Now don't be dramatic…silly little Nightopian," a metallic voice came from the dark figure, and a spotlight bathed it in its eerie glow. "Nights is not capable of murder. That is a special experience only reserved for the most—advanced." When Reala said the word "advanced," a small shudder of delight went down his body, a secret light twinkled in his eyes that confused Nights.
Jackle smiled genuinely for the first time. "Puh-Prince Reala!!" he burst out. "I knew it! Knew Prince Reala would come back!" Jackle bowed low in Reala's direction, then went by his side.
"Well I must say, Jackle, I'm impressed," Reala replied, patting Jackle's head. "However, while an opportunity to paint the walls with my arch rival's entrails isn't exactly what I want just now…I suppose it will have to do," Reala reasoned, a hand on his chin, smiling. Jackle nodded vigorously, the tassels jerking up and down.
The Nightopian quivered behind Nights' back, then zig-zagged out from behind him in a mad panic to reach the flapping entrance of the circus tent. Nights almost followed but he heard Reala clucking his tongue at him. "You shouldn't come between the Jackle and his prey," Reala chided Nights. He flew in front of Nights, his arms folded, a smirk on his face. Nights noticed the darkness that he had not seen before, and took a step back.
"So you couldn't go anywhere else, Reala…" Nights murmured. "Is that why you came back here?"
Jackle's eyes glinted as he streaked after the fleeing Nightopian. He caught the Nightopian by the wing, watching it wiggle and plead in his invisible grip.
"Wasn't exactly the turn of events that I had in mind, either, Nights, but here I am regardless!" Reala put up both hands, shrugging in fake innocence.
"Aw…Nightopians are so round and fat—they look like balloons to me!" Jackle snickered as the Nightopian struggled in his grip.
"It's really funny how humans have such…thick fear," Reala told Nights, though his eyes seemed distant. "…Even in their dreams." With a flick of his invisible wrist a wine glass appeared in his hand out of nowhere. In the glass, filled almost to the top, was thick red liquid. Nights watched with a nauseating realization as Reala swirled the liquid casually. "Blood stays fresh longer in the dream world, incidentally," Reala said, staring at the glass thoughtfully. "That other dreamer is entitled to this."
With a quick gesture, Jackle pulled out a pin, about a foot long and as thick as a pencil. "Hey…let's see if they burst like balloons too! Mwee-hee-hee-hee—"
And then Jackle's laugh turned into a shriek that made Reala turn in his direction with a hiss. When he saw what Jackle saw, his face changed to sheer surprise. He crushed the wine glass in his fist, the glass making a strange popping sound and the dark red beverage running over.
"Speaking of which…" he muttered, and went over to Jackle, as if mesmerized. The Nightopian felt Jackle's grip loosen and it tore away, going to Nights' aid.
Jackle stared at the center row of the circus tent, where a spotlight now shined on a human girl. She looked about the age of an older teenager, though there was something unsettling about her demeanor, at first glance, that made her look like she was much older—an elderly woman wearing the skin of a young girl.
Her hair was ash blonde, and the crown of her head gleamed gold just where the spotlight shone. It was just above her shoulders and sleeked back with a plain black headband. She had a stiff black turtleneck with sleeves that had to be folded back just above her wrists, though the turtleneck was form fitting nonetheless. She had a short red and black plaid skirt, gray tights, and black mary-jane shoes.
But the skin of the girl was so pale that it was almost a grayish white, with grayish lavender eyes to match. Despite the dark colors and gloomy demeanor, the girl was smiling—her pale lips turned upwards like an upside down umbrella.
There was nothing unsettling about her appearance in itself—it was what she had brought with her.
Raised in front of her, held out snugly in one arm, was a shiny red jack-in-the-box, a golden star painted on both sides. She had the hand of her other free arm placed on the polished wooden handle on the side.
Nights watched Reala and Jackle as they watched the girl, Jackle's face stretched vertically in fear, Reala's face contorted in a grin of amazement and cold satisfaction.
The girl gave a sideways glance at Nights. She tilted her head, and smiled differently, her eyes almost friendly. Nights could see dark circles around her eyes. When she turned back to face Reala, the coldness returned to her face, making her eyes look more grayish than anything.
Reala made a move as if to lunge at her, but Jackle let out a shriek that made him jump back.
The girl acted as if this reaction was a causal ice breaker. "That's right, you two. You know what this is."
"Um, excuse me here, miss…" the Nightopian called out timidly in the girl's direction. "If—if I could just play the idiot and state the obvious right now…that there…that's a bomb, right?"
She only nodded, and her gray eyes seemed to reflect gloom.
Reala only laughed quietly. "Oh, what a clever child you are! Did you really think we were stupid enough to believe your little trick? That's not a bomb."
"Ye—yes it is…" Jackle spoke up softly.
"Believe him…would you care to hear the tune?" the girl asked, her wrist twitching.
"NO!!" Nights, Jackle, and the Nightopian all screamed at once.
Reala stopped short, sucked in breath slowly in reconsideration. "Even if it is real, she can't detonate it…not unless she plans to blow herself up with all of us." When he noticed her shift ever so slightly, he smiled at her, the fake sweetness dripping off like honey.
"You perfect dreamers—your kind—you can make the faintest image become the most lurid reality. But none of this is real, Lilith." Reala only smiled wider, let out a soft amused laugh. "So naïve, so darling…to see children playing pretend. You're a very special person here, you understand. You need to come with me."
Lilith tried to stand up taller. "I'll kill you first before you touch me," she told him.
Nights was at the girl's side now. The Nightopian followed swiftly after him, though the thought of being near an explosive made it shudder.
"If you want, I can hold that for you," the Nightopian timidly offered, knowing there would be no answer from the girl that Reala called Lilith.
When Reala looked at Nights, Nights could tell that he was trying to contain his displeasure, his angry surprise.
"Nights, Nights, Nights…you should know better than to take what isn't yours."
"You hypocrite," Nights answered back, clenching his fists.
"Wizeman was a deluded fool," Reala hissed at him. "I'm the only one thinking clearly. I don't harbor such compassion for these dreamers."
"Excuse me, here…" the Nightopian smiled sheepishly, shrugging both shoulders with its hands at the sides of its head, knowing its voice went unheard. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but did anyone notice that we still have a BOMB on our hands?!"
"Try anything heroic, Nights, and you'll end up like that boy. But it makes no difference what anyone does—'' Reala turned to the girl, and cracked the knuckles on his yellow hands. "Nothing is going to keep me from you, Lilith."
There was an internal twitch in the girl's expression, and an inner cringing that almost gave way to a visible shudder. Jackle observed this reaction, giggled nervously. Reala saw her open her mouth, as if to cry out.
"You see, my dear Lilith, that boy's life was a mere compensation. You're bought and paid for now." Even though he was a safe distance away, she could smell something on him, like carrion. She hesitated, her arms went downwards. Nights pulled her back, stepping in front of her protectively.
But the girl stepped back in front of Nights resolutely. She swallowed and met Reala's sickly bluish eyes. "Be as it may…it is all a dream…like you said."
Nights could see a snarl slowly creep its way up Reala's teeth.
Lilith's eyes lit up. "It shouldn't matter to anyone if it goes off." The girl looked at the toy thoughtfully, and suddenly she raised it up fast, help it tightly to her, turned the handle. The first notes of the tune made Jackle growl and slink back.
Nights interjected quietly. The girl barely felt him place his hand on her shoulder.
"Does it really matter if it's the real thing anyway? It is only a dream, after all…guess I haven't outgrown playing pretend just yet." The girl smiled genuinely, showing her childish teeth.
The Nightopian lightly tugged on the girl's plaid skirt. "Ok, think we all get the message that she means business, then hey? Think it's time to ya know…vamoose…" He jerked his head over to the exit. All three took a slow sideways step.
"You heard it, Reala. Do you want another day to kill me or not?" She gave a swift turn of the wooden handle again, the tune advancing towards its final note. She stopped, gave an expectant look to Reala and Jackle, lifted an eyebrow.
"Damn you…" Reala cursed. His eyes had a strange stony green in them. He was seething, Nights could see.
Nights, the Nightopian, and the girl all slowly made their way backwards to the flapping tent exit. They quickened their step and were just near the exit when they noticed that Reala suddenly made a lunge at them. He did not get too close though, and some sweat did break out from him when he saw that the girl almost dropped the jack in the box. She regained her stance, muttering something that she did not remember.
"I felt—the redness—that dreamer was me—''
She wasn't coherent anymore. Her eyes stared off into something else. She began to shake uncontrollably, and Nights felt a surge of panic as he thought that she might drop the box. But she held the box good and tight, held it and gave the handle its final twist, held it up in her hand and launched it at the center of the circus tent. Nights heard a quiet growl come from her, something that was almost like an animal's snarl. Some of them shrieked, some of them cursed, Nights grabbed the girl's arm. He flew straight on and upwards, the Nightopian already clinging to his tassels, the girl surprisingly light. He burst through the flimsy material of the tent, heading towards another far away tent. Later on he could have sworn that he saw the jack in the box pop open and reveal its grinning skull of a head, specially designed by Jackle himself, and cackling like Jackle, cackling loud—
He could hear it even as he flew away at the speed he was going, a whirl around him.
Then there was a sensation of heat, a loud boom, a rush of wind from behind them as all three were blown forwards. Nights tried to land safely on the ground, but all three skidded into a pile. They hit the soft ground so hard that it felt like a brutal punch to them. He heard a soft laugh, almost secretive and choked, before he landed on the ground.
When Nights got up and dusted himself off, he saw the flames in the distance.
He heard a whistle from the Nightopian. "Sheesh, guess they got their big fireworks show after all…ya think anything got out of there…alive?" It looked expectantly at Nights, its face and clothes smeared with dirt.
"They got out all right…" the girl answered for him. She sat on the ground, leaning up against an abandoned game counter. She had a scrape on her cheek, the headband was removed from her disheveled hair, and her nylons had big holes that revealed the pale flesh of her legs, but otherwise she was alright. "If we did, then they did. That bomb was made to delay for a few—''
"That bomb!" the Nightopian interrupted, looking at her. "Where did you get it? How did you know—?"
She only looked at it, then gave a modest shrug. "I found it…that Jackle fellow left it lying around, thought it might come in handy is all." She shrugged again. "Don't think we have to worry about them for a while again…"
The Nightopian looked down at the ground, then sighed and got out a small leather bound book.
Nights looked up at the girl, who had her knees up against her chest. She had the same look that Nights saw just before she threw the bomb. A feeling of unease passed through him.
The girl made eye contact with him. "I know what you're thinking—I didn't plan this, I swear…it just…sorta happened, ya know?"
Nights only nodded, pretending to understand her. He looked over at the Nightopian, who read a leaf from the book.
"Been some strange things happening that need to be written down," it told Nights without looking up. It stopped then pointed to the page. "AH! Here it is! I'm sure you've heard about this…the rip by the Twin Seed Towers…has finally sealed up…"
The girl whirled her grayish purple eyes in their direction.
Nights nodded. "I know…I used to guard it…for about a hundred years. It sealed up not too long ago, I saw."
The Nightopian remembered something. "AH--! Almost forgot to introduce myself." It did a quick bow, tipped its golden halo. "Name's Dozer. I'm the present scroll keeper of Nightopia. I heard about some bizarre things happening at the point where the rip used to be…I only came here because I wanted to get a closer look, really…but I guess Nightmaren can sniff out us Nightopians like bloodhounds. That nasty ringleader got me before I could comprehend what was going on, told me that hunting Nightopians was his specialty." The Nightopian shuddered, jerked his head over to the girl's direction.
"They set this whole thing up…said they had a plan to bring back the Prince of Nightmaren…and give him the Perfect Dreamer. Of course I thought it was all preposterous, but then lo and behold, look who shows up…just like magic! Hate to put a damper on an already grim situation, but I think it's a dark day for the Dreamworld."
"I thought that the rip sealing would be cause for celebration," Nights said sadly, and the Nightopian shook its head.
"No…if that means that Reala returned, then no…and already after the next perfect dreamers…well, at least one of them." Dozer looked over at the girl, shook its head again in pity. "Things never change, huh? Better stay on your guard…he even knows your name…Lilith, was it?"
The girl shifted. "Yes…and you're Dozer right? And Nights."
A sudden thought hit Nights. "Say…why haven't you woken up yet?"
Lilith's eyes widened. "Beg your pardon?"
Nights rubbed the back of his head. "Well…this place, what happened here…is not real—at least for you, I mean. You are asleep right now, and you're safe. But when you dream, you will be in danger. Because you're what we call the Perfect Dreamer." Nights tapped his fingers, thinking. Dozer began to jot down what happened in the leather book.
"Being a Perfect Dreamer is something of a burden, if you want to know the truth," Nights continued. "People like you only come about every one hundred years, and you have what we call Red Ideyas—''
When Nights met the blank stare of the girl, he laughed nervously. Dozer glanced up from its writing, frowning.
"How much do you know of all this?" Nights asked Lilith. She looked down at her hands, then said, "Just that I've met some pretty strange creatures because of it…these Red Ideyas must really be important, huh?"
Nights bit his lip. "It really surprises me that Reala is picking up where Wizeman left off. He…he wants your Red Ideya. It is a gem inside you that represents your courage. Once they have it, they'll have the power to open a door into your world, crazy as it sounds, and—''
Nights thought he saw tears coming to her eyes.
"Reala…he's a monster," she said bitterly, placing her head in her shaking hands.
Nights sighed, put a hand to his forehead, thought that she might not be able to handle it if he said too much. "It's alright…You might not even remember what I told you when you wake up."
This time Lilith laughed. "I dream as long as the dream has to go on…" she looked away. "And I'll wake up…when the dream has ended."
"I'll be there keeping watch when you dream…you'll be seeing a lot of me from now on," Nights replied.
Lilith got up, dusted herself off, and then began to head further into the carnival. The environment of the carnival had changed, now that there was no one else left. The colors of the tents and even the rides were not as dull. There were no signs of the skin tents, the horse skeleton carousel, or the scary clowns. The carnival had gained back its last thread of innocence, now that it was deserted.
"Hey, where are you going?" Nights caught up to her.
"To wake up," she replied without turning around. "Don't follow me...I'll be ok."
Nights heard the reassurance in her voice, and thought that she might actually be smiling for the first time since he saw her. He let her go.
He watched her until she disappeared among the deserted tents.
Dozer tilted his head. "You…you think she'll be alright?"
Nights nodded. "For now anyway. I can't feel the presence of the crystal…she must have woken up…she looked so sad."
After closing the leather book, Dozer put a hand on Nights' shoulder. "Well, we might be wise to get going too. I know a place where we can rest…there's other Nightopians. I think Snuze and Napp might be there."
Nights brightened for the first time since Dozer met him.
To Be Continued…