Dreamland

by River-Spirit

Chapter Two: Guardian

The girl was livid; there was really no other word for it, with rage. Her face, normally lovely with big dark and gentle-looking eyes was contorted into a glare, her mouth a mere line. "Where the hell are they?"

Then there was the person with whom she was conversing, he was fairly attractive with violet eyes and shoulder-length black hair. At the moment his face was covered with little cuts, his hair was disheveled, and his arm, which he was clutching, was bent at an unnatural angle. However, as he looked around the scene, buildings toppled, whole trees tore down (luckily only a few human bodies), and his eyes misted over with worry.

The girl was called Sango and the guy was called Miroku and they had just finished the fight of their lives. Or so they thought.

"I'm not sure," he said softly, "I'm just not sure."

Well, I think this place is very nice. The grass is springy; the sun is shining, just bright enough to be nice, not too bright to burn. It smells like hazelnuts, or maybe almonds. No, hazelnuts.

I might as well look around. Something has to be happening here; otherwise I don't think I'd be here. Not that I'm complaining. Sitting around would be nice. Resting would be nice, but, alas, I'm not here to rest. Hell if I know why I'm here.

Something flashes at the corner of my eye. Finally, I was almost getting bored.

A swirling colorful...well...blob at the edge of the place. Gee, that can't be normal can it?
Another thing about this place, nothing lives her. Birds are supposed to be in sunny places. So are squirrels. They're funny things, squirrels. They dig these big big holes, and gather all these acorns to put there, so they won't go hungry in the winter. That's what they spend their summer doing, spending the good times preparing for the bad.

Then, once all that work is done, once they've spent all that time on it, they can only find half the acorns they buried. But the ones that are left in the ground turn into to trees. Do they know their efforts are futile? Do they know that, in the end, they will never find every acorn they spent so much time gathering? Do they know that but decide a tree later is better than an acorn now? Or do they not know?
Either way, it's beginning to look like squirrels are more laid back than humans. Probably smarter too.

Back to the point. There's nothing alive here, the creek gurgles weakly, it has none of the usual glimmer and spirit that creeks are suppose to have.

I look down at the creek, try to pick up a pebble and try to skip it; I think I did that a long time ago. But the pebbles are blurry, I can't really see them and my fingers go straight through them, no coolness and smoothness, just nothing.

Humph.

Never mind this weird creek. Well, since I've been in here for a while, I guess me being in here is normal. I want to be the opposite of in here, since being in here is normal I should follow weirdness. Fair enough, I make my way towards the spot that glimmers so painfully brightly in this place of strictly mild brightness.
Here I stand in front of it. What do I have to do to make it do something? Poke it? Walk through it? The latter sounds logical. If this place is my mind, nothing in here should hurt me, right? RIGHT?

Ah, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. If it does kill you, well, no point in being stronger then, huh? Actually, that's probably one of those things I should ponder on a rainy day. Or during math class. Whatever that is.

No reason to wait. I step straight through.
I open my eyes carefully; I'd sealed myself away from here when I'd walked through, apparently. If I was expecting some hero to magically appear and put me where I ought to be (I don't think I was.) I'm disappointed. However, on the bright side, if I was expected some specter to appear and tear me apart, or maybe rip this place up and leave me homeless, I was delighted.
It was fuzzy and pixelly, like a computer screen when you look too close. Still, no point in denying it, it was lovely.

The many colors zoomed and whirled in shapes that range from spirals to jelly beans, circles to arcs. The glimmering shapes looked like little presents, covered with that shiny paper.

There was no beginning; nor was there an end. I reached out to catch a hazelnut-colored square that flew by, but it dissolved in my hand with a low whoosh.

I really really wish I could figure out where on earth I am. I say where on Earth, but somehow I don't think we're on that planet.

I don't really know how to get out of here. Maybe there's someone who could show me...?

Oddly enough, or maybe not odd at all, I hear a voice right then. Voice says," Oh, are you lost? You don't look like you belong here."