Backword:
A sudden, chaotic end for a chaotic time. Quo vadis, thalassa---wither goest thou, humanity?
Shall we ever know?
The people know the salt of the sea
And the strength of the winds
Lashing the four corners of the earth.
The people take the earth
As a tomb of rest and a cradle of hope…
The fireborn are at home in the fire.
The stars make no noise.
You can't hinder the wind from blowing.
Time is a great teacher.
Who can live without Hope?
In the darkness with a great bundle of grief
The people march.
In the darkness, and overhead a shovel of stars for
Keeps, the people march:
"Where to? What next?"
107 from The People, Yes by Carl Sandburg
Chapter Thirteen:
The Making Of A New World
He started with the hardest---Reala.
Wizeman reached out, lifted the sleeping maren into his hand, and with a flash of his eyes Reala awoke.
Dark. All about him was dark. He couldn't see through it and couldn't hear. The air seemed thick and too hard to breathe---he was going to suffocate!
He tried to stand, but felt as if he were floating. Where was he? What was going on?
"Reala."
His master's voice made him jerk his head up, searching. "What?"
An unexpected slam to the side of his face sent him sprawling on the not-floor, his cheek throbbing. Wizeman's voice echoed about him once more. "You do not address me in that manner."
"Yes, my lord," managed Reala, rubbing his face. 'What's going on?'
"The nightmaren have betrayed us."
"What?"
"They have abandoned our cause, just as NiGHTS did before them. Your leadership is gone."
Gone. Just like that.
He felt the anger, then; anger at his brother, anger at those he'd led, anger at himself for not striving harder, not whipping them into shape. They'd rebelled---those filthy, traitorous maren! They'd ruined everything.
"The mission is failed, then?" he asked, his voice small.
"No." Wizeman allowed him to see a small orb glowing before him; within it, he saw what looked to be Stick Canyon. It was different than he remembered.
"I have kept my most loyal servants, the High Seekers," rumbled Wizeman. "To each of you, I will give your own dream. I have created a barrier between the rest of the Dream World and these dreams; the imbalance and chaos that plague the outside will not reach here. Your designated territory is Stick Canyon. You will be the general over the land I have now created."
"Land you created?" repeated Reala, feeling slightly dizzy. "How long have I been asleep? How did I fall asleep in the first place?"
"Only for a short time," replied Wizeman, not answering his second question. "But I have planned this for a long while. I only had to put it to action. The Dream World, like you, has been perfected. Without the rebellious masses your reign of your nightmare will be absolute. With enough energy gathered, by the time the convergence comes again you six will be all that are needed to take over the Waking World."
"Just us six?" Reala felt the dizziness come on again. They'd been preparing to do this mission with several hundred others, last he'd checked. "Only us?"
"Minions will be sent to help, but they will not be necessary. Together, the High Seekers will be enough; I have planned it. You will be the leader of my perfect nightmare beings."
He swallowed, a feeling he'd had recently swelling up within him once more; the pride of being given leadership over others. He looked back down at the orb. "So we're now sealed in here."
A blow to the side of his face sent him sprawling again. Apparently Wizeman was not going to brook any disrespect from this point on. "The chaos is sealed out. We can leave if we wish, but we do not need to. The barrier will remain unbreached."
"Yes, my lord." Reala touched tenderly the bruise forming on his face. "May I ask how we were betrayed by the other nightmaren, my lord? All I can remember is the orders for the evacuation…"
"They refused. You were not present, but they refused my commands, saying that it was too dangerous beyond the castle walls. Some raised arms and proposed to overthrow you and force me to choose another general, stating that they wanted one who was easier on their sorry heads. I banished them from this perfect kingdom and sealed the barrier."
"Thank you," managed Reala, unsure of how to react, feeling anger boil up in him at his own soldiers' treachery. He had struggled to teach them how to keep themselves alive, worked day and night to train them, and they had betrayed him.
'No matter who I put my trust in, they betray me,' he thought bitterly. 'Trust is a cruel thing.'
"Why are there so many mechanical structures in Stick Canyon, my lord?" he asked, realizing finally that he had been silent for some time.
"Ah, those." Wizeman's voice held a touch of pride. "They are the result of my own study of human dreams. They are the machines with which we will create a new breed of creatures."
"A new breed, master?"
"Yes. A creature with a Minion's mind and a body of metal. Think of it, Reala. With machines, there is no chance of betrayal."
Reala sucked in a breath, amazed. "We will never have another NiGHTS," he whispered.
"Yes."
He stared at the strange metal structures in the orb with new fascination, his voice filled with awe. "Truly, you have thought of everything, my lord."
Wizeman smiled. "It is time for you to leave for Stick Canyon and discover your new land. It is yours; rule it wisely and well."
"Very well, my lord." Reala bowed as the room about him became clear, and he strode out the door with a sense of purpose. He was general of nightmares, the leader of the High Seekers, and the ruler of Stick Canyon. Power would never betray him.
AC was perched on a burned-out torch when Reala exited the throne room, his head high and an unearthly light burning in his eyes. The crow nearly flew after him, but then stopped and looked longingly back towards the closed stone doors. If Reala came out, that must mean Jackle would come out, too; he just had to wait.
Settling himself down once more, he fluffed out and again began his silent, faithful vigil.
In the rebel camp, Morgen was being attacked by hugs and screams.
"WHERE THE IDEYA WERE YOU?!"
"Oh Morgen, we were so worried!"
"If you EVER pull a stunt like that AGAIN…"
The actor laughed weakly, trying to edge out of a crushing hug from Aster. "I was out in the swamps."
"OUT IN THE SWAMPS?! WHY, I---"
"Luna," said Tessa, "You're going to draw down the entire Equs population. Shut up."
"I DON'T GIVE A BENT PENNY OVER THE ENTIRE EQUS POPULATION, I WANT TO KNOW---"
"He can't possibly explain how he survived if you're yelling at him. Now sit quietly like a mature maren and let the wounded one explain," Tessa said, glancing at the white-haired actor. "You jerk," she added for emphasis.
Morgen laughed breathlessly and gave Amaranth and Apathy a wink as he finally managed to slide out of Aster's hug. "Guess it's better than a cold welcome, eh?"
"Oh, shut up," replied Amaranth. "You know you're enjoying every moment, you albino actor of the Armory."
"Mea culpa," laughed Morgen, holding his hands up, palms out. He then caught sight of Luna's Personalized Death Glare and chuckled nervously. "Right. Story. Wait, is that Hist?"
The wounded maren was staring at Morgen from where he lay near the fire, an expression of relief on his face. Morgen leaped over the flames and crouched down next to the guard, immediately all worry. "I thought you'd bought it! Are you all right?"
"A lot better than you're supposed to be," was Hist's reply. "You've officially been labeled dead."
"Me? Dead?" Morgen's eyes opened wide in innocence. "Whatever gave you loonies that idea?"
"The fact that you fell into a hole and didn't come out," snapped Luna. "Now get on with the explanation and get on with it quick, before I decide that you're not Morgen and take my lance to you."
"Oh, right." Morgen sat down by the fire, the leaping flames highlighting his pale face and showing it to be rather thin. "Well, as you must know, Hist and I got attacked by an Equs. Hist got knocked silly, and I took off running.
"The brute caught up with me, and took a swing at me---and wouldn't you know, but I'm standing right on the edge of one of those awful black holes! Which is really quite stupid, because if he wanted me for dinner than he'd lose his meat whether or not I got away, so what's the point of a hunt if---"
"Shaddup and get on with it!"
"Equs eat nightmaren?" whispered Aster to her teacher. Luna nodded distractedly.
"If they're hungry for it, yes. They usually prefer slower game. Go on, Morgen!"
Aster nodded, looking rather sick. Morgen continued. "So the thing whoomps me and sends me falling, and I dropped into that hole I mentioned before. It was rather annoying, what with those slimy weeds gripping me and that dirty black water, but after getting a bit tangled in the weeds I managed to break through to the surface again.
"I guess the Equs got impatient, because it was gone. I dragged myself out of the hole and, in knee-deep water, started crawling for what I thought was home---turns out I was slightly skewed and heading northeast, but anyway. I only got a short way before my broken hand gave out---I couldn't get up and walk---and I passed out right there, in the water.
"I'm not sure how long I was out, but it was a long time; it was nearly nightfall by the time I woke up."
"You still haven't accounted for an entire day," Luna reminded him.
"I know, I know, I'm getting to that! I started out again, but like I said I was heading northeast---I was too wacked out to even tell where I was. I was only half an hour along when I looked around an oak and nearly ran into a herd of---get this---Equs."
"We saw them," said Lunatic matter-of-factly.
"You did?"
"When we were searching for you."
"So we were right in sight of each other." He whistled. "Why were you out that late?"
"It was the middle of the day."
"Ah, then you must have seen them before. When I came to them, they were settling down for the night, and they didn't move until the early morning.
"That was awful. I hadn't known they were there until I was right up next to them, and I didn't dare try to move away once I saw them, so I had to just hunker there behind a tree and wait out the night. I nearly passed out again from fear. They didn't move till late morning, and by that time Wizeman sent out his little mental message.
"I didn't want to just go back to Nightmare Castle, since he didn't want us there, but at the same time I figured another help hand's always welcome when there's a problem."
"So it took you all day to get here?" asked Luna.
"Half the day," defended Morgen. "I'm not in the best of shape, Luna! And besides, that shield was up, and so I had to go off searching for you all, couldn't find you until you lit the fires---"
He cut off as Stella sat down next to him, medic bag open. "Oh, thank you."
"Hold out that hand," she ordered, and for the first time the nightmaren were able to see the damage done. Aster grew slightly green when the actor brought it out of where he'd been hiding it, Napoleon-like, in his shirt. The bones were visible in some places.
"Oya oya." Stella clicked her tongue chidingly over it. "You did get yirself smashed a good one, didn't yi? Hold still though, it'll mend once I set it aright. Bite yir lip."
"No, not yet!" Morgen held out the twigs he'd been cradling. "I searched through half of the swamp to find these, so you'd better use them!"
"I knew you were doing something else," declared a voice over their heads. Luna stood above them, arms akimbo. "You were hunting for woodsbane. Of all the daft-headed…"
"She needs it!" defended Morgen. "And besides, it would be pointless if I---"
He cut off when Luna abruptly dropped to her knees and began sobbing.
"Uh…"
"It's all right," she sobbed through tears. "I'm just…so happy you're alive…"
"Uh…So'm I, actually…"
"She's had a lot a' stress lately, especially with you dyin'," explained Stella patiently. "Now hold still."
Wizeman watched through the orb as Reala began exploring his new territory, touching the machinery, exploring the hidden cave which contained his throne room, playing with the blue torches that refused to go out. He was like a boy who'd been placed in a new playground and told to explore it; wanting to know about everything. He would do well.
The others would be fairly simple. First he awoke Puffy, taking care to hide the others' sleeping forms before she opened her eyes.
"The world has changed," were the words she was greeted with.
"What do you mean?" she whispered, looking about her fearfully. The throne room was more shadowed than usual, and she suddenly had the immense feeling of being alone.
"The nightmaren of the castle rebelled, refusing to leave the walls and threatening to remove the High Seekers from power. I would not stand for such treachery, and banished them to the outer rim of the Dream World, encasing the inner half in a barrier through which none of them may pass. From this point forward, you six and myself are the only nightmaren who live here."
"Oh," squeaked Puffy.
"I have prepared a place for you in Splash Garden," continued Wizeman. "You will find it to your perfect taste. You are from here forward the ruler of Splash Garden, and your only duty is to gather the Ideya from dreamers who enter your realm. You make take your leisure there; soon, I will send mechanical helpers to ease your work. There will be no more fighting for you, Puffy."
"Oh," said Puffy. Her ears lifted a bit, a sign that she was in better spirits. She watched as Wizeman's hands came together, circling a dark orb; with a flash, it brightened, and she found that she could see a scene inside of it. It was somewhere within a dark house, she believed; a dusky-lighted house, with wonderful, marvelous things. She held her breath as she saw the luxurious velvet hangings and the soft cushions, expensive paintings hanging from the walls above. Wizeman's voice broke through her adoring thoughts.
"This is now your realm, Puffy. You will find it in Splash Garden."
"Oh," whispered Puffy, her ears trembling now. Delight was bright in her face. Wizeman closed his hand over the orb again, extinguishing the vision, to her dismay.
"Now go and explore your realm."
Puffy did a version of a curtsy. "Thank you, my lord," she said, her voice thick with happiness. "But, if I may ask…what about my brethren?"
"They each will be given their own dream to rule. You may see them whenever you like."
"Oh," said Puffy happily, and bounced out.
Outside, perched sleepily on the wall sconce, AC started and nearly fell off as Puffy came bouncing out of the door, singing happily to herself. She did not notice him. He shook himself and blinked after her, then turned to look at the doors hopefully, but they closed once more without allowing anyone else to exit.
He muttered something to himself in crow language and settled down again, mentally chastising himself for nearly falling asleep. He had to stay awake for when Jackle came out, as he knew the demi-maren would. He had no doubt; he trusted his friend.
At the rebel camp, Luna was just finishing explaining the current situation to Morgen. The actor took it all surprisingly calmly; after all, as he put it, "I just went crawling through half the swamplands with a broken hand and a herd of Equs two feet away. You think I'm going to get worried over a camp-out?"
"But it's not just a camp-out, and that's the thing," said Luna, looking out over the scattered fires and the half-visible forms of nightmaren gathered about them. "It's for good, as far as we know. We're going to have to build up our world all over again---and this time around things are warping as we speak. The sky over Soft Museum looks even more green then it did during the day."
Morgen looked northward toward the spidery waves of eerie green that were coating the sky. "Personally, I rather like the effect."
"It's nice for decoration, but it means that things are twisting even more, and I don't like that." Luna accepted the dish that was handed to her as Chaotica and Heckler went around the fire, handing out plates. She took a bite and nodded appreciatively as the two sat down by the fire together. "Nice, Chaotica. Amazing how you were able to whip together a good meal on the run."
"I knew that bringing along enough food for awhile would come in handy." She sighed. "But we haven't enough for long, not with how many maren we've got out here. We're going to have to start gathering tomorrow, the day after if we stretch it---and there's no substitute for the lack of water. We have to go into Mystic Forest."
"We will." Luna took another bite. "We're prepared and ready to fight now; I'll get together some guard groups to go with them, and they'll be able to take care of things. Did it before, I'll do it again."
"Funny, I thought you were worried over all of this," said Morgen to the sky.
She gave him a shove. "It's different when it comes to fighting. Then I know what's going on."
"Ah, of course."
"You know," said Terrance to the general assembly about the fire, "I'm beginning to think that we're becoming a very great joke for the universe."
"Eh, who knows?" Tessa was seated next to Vespers, who had her book right by her side, one hand on it protectively. "There are other wills around us, that's for sure---but we seem to be doing fairly well anyway."
"Have to." Dysdane crossed her legs casually. "If we don't, we're dead."
"Nice cheerful thought." Corbeau pulled up a stick that had been shoving him in the back and tossed it on the fire. "Still, it's not that bad. The first nightmaren carved a culture out of the chaos that was the Dream World---we can, too."
"Us against chaos," mused Morgen. "I like the sound of that. Dramatic."
"Chaos-busters?"
Chaotica leaned her head on his shoulder. "Somehow it's missing something, Heckler."
"Eh, we'll think up a nice spiffy name sooner or later." Morgen grinned. "Something like---Moonchasers!"
Luna gave him a strange look. "Moonchasers?"
He shrugged. "The moon never varies. She changes, but is never chaotic."
"It's missing something."
"The Free Maren Republic?"
"Sounds like a human organization."
"Mm…how about just the rebels?"
"Who are we rebelling against?"
"Wizeman, dur."
"We're not rebelling, we're trying to survive after being banished."
Corbeau lifted an eyebrow. "So we're The Outcasts?"
"Sounds like we were run out of our homeland by an overpowering government," said Dysdane bluntly.
"Which is true."
"Yes, but you make it sound as if we are unable to take care of ourselves. We're not victims. We're survivors."
"The Survivors, then?" Morgen tried the name out.
"Missing something."
"The Free Survivors."
"…no, still missing something."
"Cummon, Luna, you'd have something good. What do we call ourselves?"
The sparring instructor groaned. "How should I know? Call it the Colony of Survivors if you want. Rebels sounds more ferocious."
"Once more, who are we rebelling against?"
"I don't know!"
"So we're the Random Group Of Wandering Nightmaren Without A Name?"
"No." Chaotica gave Heckler a jab with her elbow. "We're---wanderers. Survivors. Hopers."
"Dreamers," added Heckler dryly, earning himself another jab.
Luna drew a circle in the dirt with the end of her lance. "Fine, we'll call ourselves survivors. That's hopeful enough."
"There's always pain, but there's always hope, too," piped up Aster. Luna glanced at her.
"I thought you didn't like that saying. Thought it far too cliché."
"Yeah, well, the guy who said it isn't dead anymore."
"I don't know whether that sentence was funny, or disturbing," mused Lunatic.
"And that's my phrase," pointed out Morgen. "No fair stealing it."
"Yeah, you seem to be pretty darn quotable around here." Insomnia swung himself over a log and perched there, balancing. "Has to do with being able to come back from the dead, I guess."
"Really? I always thought it was the dashing good looks."
Dysdane tossed another log on the fire. "What good looks?"
Gillwing was surprisingly difficult. Wizeman found himself constantly fielding enquiries about the others, and just what the nightmaren all did, and why he wasn't awake when it happened, and where Jackle was. Eventually the ruler found himself losing his temper.
"You're going to preside over Spring Valley," he snarled. "Go and find your place."
Gillwing tried once more. "But---"
"Go!"
He flinched from his ruler's anger and turned away moodily. Wizeman watched as he dragged himself out, tail low and ears drooping. 'It is a good thing he had a solid hide, or he would be hurting by now,' he mused.
AC perked up as Gillwing slouched through the door, but was disappointed once again as the nightmaren ambled down the stairs, alone. The stone doors closed.
The crow stared at them, his eyes bright. They would open and let his friend out, he knew.
Clawz, Wizeman felt sure, would be fairly simple. He awoke the catmaren without bothering to shield Jackle from him, and allowed Clawz to wake fully, waiting for the catmaren to speak.
"What happened, my lord?" asked Clawz in a whisper, staring at the still form of Jackle lying on the cold stone floor.
"The nightmaren have rebelled," explained Wizeman calmly. "They went against the leadership of the High Seekers and were threatening to begin a violent takeover of power. You and your brethren were brought within my room to be kept safe, and I banished them from our kingdom."
"Where did they go?"
"The outer ring of the Dream World. I have created a barrier of energy to keep them from returning and to shield our world from the chaos that is tearing at the outer ring. This is now our world of nightmares, and I have given each of you a sector to rule. You have been given Frozen Bell. There you will find a structure for your own, from which you will govern your sector. Your duty is to gather Ideya as dreamers enter your realm, and to periodically send them to me. When the convergence comes once more, we shall have enough dream energy to control the Waking World."
"Just us?"
"You six are enough. You have grown strong through years of experience."
Clawz swallowed, not at all believing what was happening. "So you mean that the entire castle has left?"
"They rebelled."
"Like NiGHTS?"
"Yes."
The catmaren looked to where Jackle lay curled in a semi-circle, sleeping peacefully. Beyond him, the crystal bowl that stood in Wizeman's room for the use of Gulpo stood; the sleeping fish floated silently in the dark water, every now and then sending a few bubbles drifting to the top of the water. "What of them, my lord?"
"I will give them their assigned spots soon. Now go and take control of your new territory."
"Yes, master." The catmaren slunk out of the throne room, feeling very confused. He was too busy contemplating the world's way of suddenly sliding out from under one's feet to even notice the onyx bird that was perched outside Wizeman's doors, who watched with piercing black eyes as he descended the stairs, now muttering to himself.
"Out of nowhere…just like that?…"
Jackle merited a bit more preparation. The demi-maren was loyal and certainly obedient, but his curiosity and generally good-willed nature could create some difficulties. Wizeman pondered what to say for some time before he nudged the caped maren into waking.
Jackle yawned and slowly sat up, rubbing his hands in his eyes and stretching both arms above his head before looking around. Wizeman saw him stiffen, his vision clouded to make all about him appear dark; no doubt he was having a bad case of déjà vu. Jackle's wavering voice floated up to him, unsure. "Master?…"
"You will obey me."
" 'Course I will, Master, but---"
A hand slammed him to the floor, disappearing again into darkness. He crouched down in fear and held a hand to his face as Wizeman's voice, suddenly grown harsh and deep, rumbled out at him from all sides. "You do not question, you obey!"
He cried out as he was slammed into the wall, the darkness about him seeming to reach out and strike him with heavy hands. A voice he no longer recognized echoed about him as he tried to cover himself with his cape before it was ripped away from him.
"Chaos is in the world. Everything has fallen!"
Night was falling softly upon Spring Valley when Gillwing, wings pumping, flew overhead. NiGHTS, nodding off in his prison, jerked his head up and watched.
"I wonder where he's off to," he said to Tuck, who was dozing against a pillar of the Ideya Palace.
"Probably late-night hunt," mumbled Tuck sleepily.
"No, he didn't seem to be looking around him---just flying straight ahead. I wonder if it had anything to do with that wave that came over earlier."
"Probably not."
"Yeah, probably not. But I wonder what that thing earlier was?"
"I already told you, it was probably just some dreamer dreaming about a hurricane."
"No, for some reason it felt different than a dream…I don't know how to explain it, but it just didn't have a dreamy feel to it. It felt more real."
"So you're saying it was part of the Dream World?"
"Yeah."
"It wasn't dreamy enough to be made by a human's dream, but it was real enough to be from the Dream World?" He snorted. "You've got a long way to go with polishing your logic, NiGHTS."
"I do not!"
Tuck shrugged and rolled over, curling into a chubby ball. "Suit yourself."
NiGHTS went back to watching the stars. The moon overhead was bright and glorious, a shining ball of light. Staring up at it, he felt his chest grow warm---and a flash of premonition hit him between the eyes.
---They were trying so hard---he couldn't let them down. He struggled to cling on to any drip of energy he had and bring it to his hands, transferring it their fragile bodies, protecting them against the searing power of the monstrous enemy before them, its entire being focused on destroying them entirely---
He gasped, coming back to the present with a snap. What of nightmares was that? Another dream?
He fingered his gem quietly, swallowing. Something always happened after his gem reacted like that. But what was it?
'Perhaps…perhaps, like my first dream, that was a glimpse into the future.'
A sobering thought. It had felt quite real, even though he couldn't tell who he'd been fighting against or who he'd been protecting---all he could really understand was the fierce need to protect those delicate souls. He couldn't let them down.
He settled down on the cold floor, crossing his arms and letting his head rest on them as he began to drift into sleep. 'I don't know who you are, but I promise I'll protect you when the time comes. I swear it.'
He slept peacefully, and his dreams were full of laughing children.
Voices were flowing about him, a chaotic babble of words and songs in the mix of pain and darkness. All he could do was curl up in a ball and hold tight, sobbing out any words that came to his mind in an effort to keep from losing himself. He was afraid that, if he let go, he might never find who he was again.
"Ring around the rosies, pocket full of posies---Ashes, ashes, we all fall down," he chanted through his choking sobs. "Pretty pretty glass, pretty pretty blue…ring-a round-a rosies, pocket full-a posies, ashes ashes they burn your mind…"
The voices echoed him, singing their own songs. Mirror glinting mirror! So pretty Singing love singing sing song of sea sing song of wind sing song of darkness and shadow and night Mirror shining brightly shining with light light!
He hiccupped as a wave of darkness slammed into him, bruising his face, and he began another round. "Ring around the fire, burning, turning higher, ashes ashes we all burn away…"
Song and shadow and mirror and sea so pretty love love love! Song and sea sing loud sing sing strong sing oh! Sing sing sing! Love sing love shadows and singing oh love singing all love sing yes love sing and love mirrors and glinting glass glinting glinting glass so pretty pretty pretty things love pretty things all so pretty bright and pure like blood blood!
"Blood!" he whispered, as visions of glinting shards of glass and shimmering dark rivers poured through his mind. "Pretty blood…"
Yes pretty so pretty, and glimmering shades of dusk!
And abruptly, the pain stopped.
He lay still where the cruel darkness had dropped him, staring at nothing, watching within his mind the shimmering, delightful images of sharp glass shattering into beautiful sharp pieces. Gorgeous blood poured over them all. "So pretty," he whispered.
A voice, one that he recognized, came through the dark. "Jackle."
He did not move. "Yes, Master?"
"Sit up."
He did as ordered, feeling his skin complain and shriek under the bruises that the mean darkness had given him. He cringed as voices flowed into his mind.
Yes yes obey tis isn't right to question you know! Shouldn't question, it isn't right! Makes for pain, darling, makes for pain---
"You will obey me."
"Yes, Master."
That's right, listen to what he says!
"But Master, what's happened?"
"The nightmaren have rebelled."
Run and hid, yes, chickened out and wouldn't listen! Traitors all of them, they questioned him, yes!
"Rebelled?"
Another blow sent him slamming to the floor again. He huddled down with his cape over his head, his voice coming out from under it in a muffled tone. "S'rry, Master, din't mean it, honest!"
"You do not question, you obey!"
"Yes, Master!"
"They have rebelled, and they and the chaos have been sealed away. You and the other High Seekers will rule this land on your own, without their help."
"But what about the other---"
He cried out as he was slammed against the wall, and pressed against its cold stones, seeking shelter. "Din't mean it, Master!"
Don't question no things just are you know that's the way things are!
"Things are?" he asked.
"Things are fine," replied Wizeman, not following his mental conversation.
Things are the way they fall so you fall with them, pet! That's the way the world is made you know, but now that the world's broken it falls and you fall with, it's oh a lovely fall! Come, pet, don't question just fall!
"I just fall?" he whispered.
Yes yes yes! Just fall! And all things will fall on their own, pet don't you worry about that…
Wizeman reached out and touched the demi-maren's forehead, ignoring when Jackle flinched and tried to shield himself. Slowly the darkness that had been crowding the demi-maren's vision faded, and he was able to see his ruler.
"Look closely, Jackle."
He peered at the orb that had appeared in his master's hands, drawn to its shining surface and smooth shape. "Pretty…blue glass."
Blue tabletop and clear glass
"Look closer."
He squinted. He could see a picture beginning to form inside.
Blue like water
He sucked in his breath in delight. Inside the globe a darkened hall was becoming clear; it looked twisted, and yet somehow welcomingly soft; mirrors coated its walls. Jackle grinned. "Ooh, pretty!"
Clear glass like shining mirror glinting sharply
He touched the surface of the orb lovingly, wanting to see more of the enchanting hall. "So pretty and soft…"
Water like the sea pretty sea singing sea song singing
"Yes, Jackle. This is in Soft Museum."
"Soft Museum?" His eyes opened wide in remembrance.
Wizeman slapped him, sending him tumbling to the floor once more; remembrance was not what he wanted. "I said, do not question me!"
"Not questionin' you, Master!" Jackle cowered under his cape once more, peeking out longingly at the shining orb. "SoOo pretty…"
"It is yours."
"Mine?"
"Yes. It is your house. You will not want to leave it."
"My house!" he chirruped, climbing to his feet and skipping towards the orb once more. "My house!"
"You will not want to leave it," repeated Wizeman.
"No, Master, not such a lovely house!" He touched the orb with delicate fingers, cooing over his new home. "SoOo prett-Y!"
Wizeman ignored the odd fluctuation in the demi-maren's voice as he reached out and extinguished the orb, effectively gaining Jackle's attention again. "Look, Jackle."
The demi-maren followed his gesture to his opened palm, where a small pulsing sphere of light was forming. He brightened. "Another orb?"
"No." The hand twitched, and the sphere burst; out of the shimmering rubble rose a butterfly. It was large and beautiful, its paper-thin wings covered in glorious patterns; a shimmer of magical dust fell from its wings as it fluttered out of Wizeman's palm, its flight erratic and unsteady like any other butterfly's but its course generally straight. Jackle giggled with delight as it fluttered about his head and batted at it like a kitten will paw at a toy. He giggled again and began chasing it around Wizeman's throne.
"Jackle, follow this butterfly."
"Yes, Master!" he laughed, doing as told. He hardly noticed when the fluttering creature led him out through the great stone doors that opened for him of their own accord.
Outside, AC was sitting rather bad-temperedly on his wall sconce, feeling extremely tired and a bit hungry as well. He perked up, however, when he saw who had left the room.
Jackle halted momentarily as a cawing, flapping bundle of ecstatic black feathers flung itself onto his shoulder and perched there, hopping up and down in its excitement. He laughed. "AC, I missed you!"
The butterfly hovered in front of their faces for a moment, and he blinked in remembrance. "Oh yeah, I hafta follow this butterfly! Wizeman said so! Cummon, let's go see the house he gave me!"
AC, not at all perturbed my his companion's childishness, gamely flew after the butterfly. Jackle clapped his hands. "Let's see who can catch it!"
He bounded off down the hall, his delighted giggle echoing through the deserted castle.
Jackle was finished, as well as the cracked demi-maren could be. Wizeman turned to the last of the High Seekers.
Gulpo awoke with a slight twitch, his eyes drifting up to meet those of his master's. Wizeman was surprisingly blunt.
"I have banished all the lower nightmaren to the outer ring of the Dream World, and have created a barrier between that and the center. From this point forward Nightmare shall be our kingdom. Each of the High Seekers has been given a sector over which to reign; yours is Mystic Forest. Your duty is simply to gather Ideya and periodically send them to me. Is that clear?"
Gulpo nodded slowly.
"Very well. Go."
The giant fish turned and swam into the underwater tunnel that connected much of Nightmare Castle, his personal passage to the different bowls and lagoons placed about for his benefit. One side-passage led to an underground chamber deep in Mystic Forest; this one he took, swimming calmly.
And they were finished.
By the time they reached the edges of Soft Museum the moon had risen to its highest point in the heavens, giving the world about them a strange, shadow-cut look. The ground, as Jackle stepped onto it, bowed down away from him.
He, instead of pulling back in fright as he would once have done, instead stood staring at the way he was now several feet lower than the earth around him. "Whoa---I didn't know I could do this!"
AC flapped to his shoulder and cawed, examining the strange phenomenon; the butterfly, hovering about their heads, was momentarily forgotten. Jackle took another step, watching in fascination as the ground pressed down under his weight and raised up again after he lifted away. "The ground's all soft now." He bounced on his heels, watching the ground rebound like a trampoline beneath him.
He looked up at the scenery about him. The entire landscape seemed melded together into one great soft cushion. Pathways led here and there, stopping and starting without meaning or cause; statues bent over the path or leaned sideways above the flowers, twisted into odd and unusual shapes. Pavilions had become round and squat, looking like short trampolines set up for a troop of acrobats. The stark moonlight highlighted the grounds with contrasts of bright moonbeams and strange shadows.
He grinned up at AC. "It's---perfect!"
With a whoop he took off across the landscape, bounding along pathways and careening into statues, flinging himself about in a gleeful frenzy of play. AC, for his part, decided to perch on one of the statues---it sagged when he landed on it---and watch from a safe distance.
Eventually the butterfly, becoming more insistent, managed to capture Jackle's attention once more. The demi-maren whistled for AC and took off after the creature again.
It led them straight to the museum itself, which seemed to have decided it needed a rest and fallen on its side. The door opened before them without being touched, as if the every air was soft and moldable here; once they were inside, Jackle found himself within a long, mirrored hallway, wispy gauze and silks draping from the ceiling, beautiful colors highlighted by the moonbeams shining through the skylights. He laughed giddily, spinning in a happy circle with his arms spread wide. "It's beautiful!"
The butterfly, its job done, disappeared into a puff of shimmering dust. Jackle was only momentarily distracted by its disappearance. "My butterfly! Oh, what a pretty veil…"
He touched the soft material, pleased to find that it slid into his hands without a snag. "So soft and nice! Cummon, AC, let's explore!"
He bounded down the hallway, the veil wrapped about him like a wispy second cloak, billowing out in his wake. AC flapped after him.
They spent hours exploring the museum. Jackle was most pleased with the room in its very heart; his room. He pointed this out to AC excitedly.
"See? See? The floor! It had card patterns on it! This is my room! See? Spades and diamonds and clubs and hearts! It's my room!"
AC was perched uneasily on the edge of a giant block painted with yellow question marks, the edge being too tilted for him to get a good grip. With a caw of disgust he gave up and flew to the top of the still jack-in-the-box, not liking the look of the moving one, and perched on its head.
Jackle was now examining the curiosity of the walls---namely, there seemed to be none. He stepped out unfearingly into the void of blue and stars, and called his findings to the crow.
"It's all air---though it looks like you couldn't ever get to those stars, they're too far away! It's pretty wallpaper, though…"
He came back into the room, laughing as AC swooped to his shoulder. "What, Jack's too boring for you?"
He pointed to the still jack-in-the-box. "You're name's Jack," he announced, and pointed to the more mobile one. "And you're Hemingway."
AC eyed him. He giggled and skipped merrily towards a small flight of stone-carved stairs that curved up several feet into the void, leading to a doorway that opened into the space beyond. It served no practical purpose whatsoever, but he, apparently, liked it quite well. "Isn't this so nice? My own staircase!"
He pulled the door open and flung his arms wide, encompassing the entire horizon and all of the star-filled purple void in his grasp, and laughed to the sky. "Welcome home, AC."
Midnight in the Dream World.
Despite their names, Nightopia and Nightmare were not fearful places of evil during the night hours. Most of the land lay peacefully under the watches of the stars, bird and beast nestled down in sleep, a few Minions prowling through the forests, several Nightopians stargazing. Nighttime was peaceful.
Out along the edge of the southern plains, a large gathering of nightmaren was settled in a rough circle; fires burned brightly, scaring away the shadows and casting light on the glinting lances and swords that lined the camp in a protective shield of metal. Many stood, watchful, gazing out into the darkness in readiness for anything hostile that might come; they were silent and unmoving, however, and did not disturb the night. The rest of the encampment slept peacefully. Overhead, the stars kept silent watch. Peace reigned. Inside Nightmare, however, and within the western mountains, it was an entirely different story.
Someday, that story will be told.