Editing finalized on part 2. Part 3 is still in motion, but it's at least halfway done, I think. Not yet sure if there will be a part 4. I kind of maybe think there's a new little idea twisting in my brain that started today for that possibility...

Thank you for the reviews on part 1, they are very much appreciated. Tinalouise88, yes, it is a bit melancholy, sorry for that, just going where the story led me, I'm just hoping I put it together okay. :)

~*O*~

"Sarah! Sarah! Sarah!"

The bedroom door flung wide open, admitting a flying bundle of blond hair and Ninja Turtle pajamas to wake her up the next morning, the smell of frying bacon and the sweet scent of pancakes wafting into the room in its wake.

"Oompf, Toby!" Sarah cried, laughing as she disentangled herself from the mess of little boy and blankets.

"Mom said to wake you up, breakfast will be done soon!" he chirped cheerily.

"Okay, you rascal, I'm up, I'm awake. Tell her I'll be down in a few minutes," she replied, yawning.

"Okay!" Toby said, standing up to bounce off the edge of the bed with his rear. She swore he was running before his feet hit the floor.

"And no running down the stairs!" Sarah called after him, knowing he was already halfway down them by the sound of his feet.

Marveling at the amount of energy his little body could possess so early in the day, she took a moment to stretch leisurely in bed. She turned her head to look at the clock on the nightstand. 7:38 am. Karen must have got up by seven to start breakfast.

Tossing the rest of the blankets back, Sarah slowly made her way out of her cocoon of warmth. Standing up, she stretched again, one hand finding its way into her tangled hair, the other in front of her mouth as she yawned once more. Relaxing her body, she walked over to the window and pulled open the curtains to look out on the new day.

She could tell by the sleepy golden rays of sunlight that today wouldn't be nearly as warm as the day before. Already a slight breeze could be seen whispering through the leaves of the tree outside her window. Autumn was trying to reassert its hold on the weather.

A small fluttering object caught her eye at the base of the window, and she leaned closer to see it better. Just then, a gusty breeze hit the window, dislodging the bit of light-colored fluff, but she thought it might have been a feather. She struggled for a moment to think why that seemed like it should be familiar.

"Sarah! Breakfast is done!" Karen's voice floated up the stairs to her.

"Be down in a minute!" she called back. Shrugging to herself, she turned away from the window and bent to grab her bag, pulling out her clothes for the day.

A few minutes later found her sitting down at the dining room table with her family. Karen was setting down a plate of steaming pancakes, and her father was pouring a glass of milk for Toby.

"Good morning, sunshine," her father chuckled, noting that her hair was still in disarray. "Coffee?"

"Oh, god, yes, please," she said, holding her cup out to her father to pour the coveted brew.

She dropped a couple teaspoons of sugar and a little splash of milk into the steaming cup and gave it a quick stir. Lifting the aromatic brew to her lips, she inhaled deeply before taking a judicious sip of the hot liquid, her sigh of contentment audible.

"Thank you, daddy. Nothing beats the first cup of coffee in the morning."

"Blech!" chimed Toby, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Sarah made a face at him, to which he pantomimed sticking a finger down his throat. Her father merely raised his mug to her, settling back in his chair to read the morning paper while Karen finished setting the food out.

"I made extra in case you want to take some home with you, Sarah," Karen said, giving Toby the "look" when he continued to make retching noises.

"Thank you, that would be lovely," Sarah smiled. She would never turn down Karen's well-meaning attempts, but she would also never tell her that she fed them to the swans in the park on her way out of town. Pancakes really didn't keep that well as leftovers and were truly best eaten fresh.

Breakfast went by all too swiftly, punctuated by talk about jobs, Toby's schooling, and potential plans for the upcoming holidays. It wasn't long after that Sarah found herself next to her car with her family gathered around her, ready to say their goodbyes.

"Oh, Robert, did you ask her about that box we found in the attic?" Karen asked as Sarah bent to give Toby a hug.

"Hmm? Oh, that's right. There's a box we brought down from the attic last weekend. Seems to have some of your old things in it. We were going to ship it to you, but since you're here, well, let me just bring it out to you."

Curious, Sarah waited with Karen and Toby for her father to return. She couldn't think of anything she might have left behind. She'd either packed everything or donated it to the goodwill. Robert was gone for only a few moments before returning with a medium size box. He set it on the trunk of her car and Sarah peeled back the flaps. She was greeted first with the garland crown of flowers she used to wear as a teenager, and beneath it lay the soft, pale green material of the gown she would rehearse lines in the park with.

"Wow, I haven't seen these since..." she thought for a moment. A few days after the dream. She shook her head. "Thank you. I didn't realize I left this one behind."

After another round of hugs and goodbyes, Sarah stowed the box on the passenger seat with the foil-wrapped pancakes Karen had given her and got in the car. She waved goodbye out her window as she pulled out of the driveway.

A few minutes later found her pulling into the lot by the park for her traditional feeding of pancakes to the swans. Shutting the car off, she stared over at the box on the passenger seat. She had a ridiculous urge to put the gown on and run down into the park like she used to.

"What the hell. What's life without a little spontaneity?" she murmured to herself.

Reaching over, she carefully removed the garland crown and set it on the dash, then pulled out the dress, shaking the top half out and judging the fit. It might be a little tight across the chest, she thought, but she used to wear it over her school clothes and with the exception of her bust, she really wasn't much bigger than she had been then. Pulling the rest of the gown out, a discordant musical chime was heard as something hit the bottom of the box. Leaning over, Sarah peered inside.

At the bottom lay her old music box, the girl in the billowy dress looking abandoned and forlorn. Next to her was the statuette of the Goblin King as she'd imagined him, his hand with the crystal outstretched toward the girl, giving her a weird sense of déjà vu. Between them lay the familiar red cover of a book, the embossed gold lettering worn and faded. She left the figures alone, instead reaching in to pull out the little book.

"Through dangers untold..." she murmured, caressing the cover.

Suddenly overwhelmed by the compulsion to give in to her nostalgia, she cast a surreptitious glance out her car windows before shedding her flannel shirt and donning the gown. Wriggling in the driver's seat, she pulled it over her bosom until it settled, neat and snug against her body. That's strange, she thought, as she leaned forward to zip up the back without setting off the horn. Tilting the rearview mirror, she pulled her hair up, twisting it into the ribbons of the garland crown. Satisfied, she grabbed the little leather-bound book and stepped out of the car. Standing outside the door, she pulled off her sandals and wriggled out of her jeans, tossing them onto the driver's seat. Though the day was still young, it was still quite warm, but the heat of the sun was cooled by the insistent autumn breeze that swept through park.

Sarah re-donned her sandals and stood back, twirling once and watching the few wrinkles in the gown seem to magically fade with the motion. She marveled that the thing still seemed to fit her so well. Ignoring the one or two strange looks she had received from passersby so far, she reached back into the car for the pancakes and her keys. Locking the doors, she tucked the pancakes and her book under one arm, and began the trek down to the pond.

The path she took today was a familiar one, though long untraveled by her own feet. She couldn't say for sure why she avoided it, but even when she brought Toby here, she would come into the park from a different direction, the same direction she usually took when she came to feed the swans before leaving town, though both paths eventually led to the stone bridges spanning the pond. Well, it was a creek really, it just happened to open up into a large body of water that was generally referred to as a pond. Walking along swiftly, Sarah kept her head bowed to avoid the curious looks of anyone she might pass, though the park was mostly deserted for this time of day. She found that odd, as it seemed like there should be more people out, either jogging or walking their dogs, trying to enjoy the last bit of the season's warmth before the cold could set in fully.

When she came to the first little bridge, she slowed down, taking in the familiar setting. The grass wasn't as green as it would have been during the spring season when she had come here last, and the trees in their multicolored regalia had grown up a bit more, but little else had changed. The stone bench, perhaps, looked a little more weather worn, as did the nearby obelisk that a white barn owl had once perched upon that fateful day. In her mind's eye, she could still see her loyal companion, Merlin, seated upon the bench, her ever faithful audience. She closed her eyes, the memory superimposed over the present a little more painful than she could bear. Merlin had passed on while she was at college due to an enlarged heart, a rare condition, and one day it simply gave out. The vet assured her family that it would have been quick, that he'd gone to sleep and suffered little. She still missed her shaggy friend, however.

With a mild shake, Sarah snapped out of her little mood of introspection and looked out across the water, a quiet smile gracing her lips as she noted that the swans were out. She stood for a moment to watch them, their white feathers gleaming in the morning sun, and their crested necks arching elegantly as they raised their beaks from the water, droplets sparkling like white diamonds caught in the sun before they fell.

She turned and walked along the edge of the pond, following the little embankment until she reached the point that the pond fed itself back into the creek. There were more trees here, a mix of new and old growth, and the farther she walked, the more it gave the illusion of a small woodland. It wasn't long before she found herself beneath the outspread branches of an old oak that rose majestically above its youthful counterparts. Warm sunlight lanced through the fiery autumnal crown of leaves, spilling dappled shades of violet and gold upon the ground. Placing her hand against the warm bark of its gnarled trunk, Sarah bowed her head in greeting, as though she were paying homage, and in a way, she supposed she was.

Many times this old oak had served as her haven, her bower, her sanctum of comfort and tranquility. Here she had held court and pretended to have conversations with all manner of beings, for lore said that oak trees were not only guardians, but doorways, portals between the fantastical realms of magic and mortal kind. Here she had been queen, princess, a lady of distinction, and a multitude of feminine heroines that marched through the pages of her scripts in the name of valorous deeds and unrequited love. It seemed an age ago now, but dressed in her gown, the little red book held close, she could clearly remember her final performance, the last great memory of adventure that changed her life before she put such childish notions to rest. It seemed improbable, but as the recollection of her past regaled her beneath the boughs, she could swear she felt the life beat of the tree beneath her fingertips, that faint surge of magic she used to imagine that brought her fantasies to life in crystal clarity.

Bringing the tips of her fingers to her lips, she curtsied before the great tree, her reverence for the aged guardian renewed. This was their ritual, and upon completion, she felt the breeze that blew faintly through the leaves swirl around her, lifting her skirts as if in greeting, welcoming her return. She smiled. It was these sort of things that made it so easy to imagine herself back in her world of make-believe.

Finding herself a comfortable place to sit on the leaf-strewn ground near the embankment of the quiet creek, Sarah set aside her foil-wrapped swan treats and opened the well-worn cover of the little red book. The story had been familiar once, and though it seemed she had forgotten much, the words greeted her like old friends, her dream slotting into place with every paragraph.

She was utterly absorbed in the rereading of the tale when a particularly strong gust of wind wrapped around her, brisk with the chill of autumn that set the pages to fluttering wildly in her hand. With a dismayed gasp, she snapped the book shut and held it close, waiting for the breeze to settle. Watching the ripples dance across the surface of the creek, it was only a moment or two later before they calmed. Casting a wary glance to her surroundings, she cautiously reopened the book, flipping through the pages to find her place. Settling once more into the story, she was oblivious to the stirring of the wind or the fallen leaves that skittered along the ground.

"Here, this is my favorite part," a smooth, lightly accented, and distinctly masculine voice said over her shoulder, accompanied by a gloved hand that smoothed over the page she had just turned.

Sarah let out a startled yelp and froze, her heart suddenly thundering in her chest as she stared at the hand encased in soft black leather that rested upon the page. Turning her head a fraction, she followed her line of sight up the arm, noting the style of the brown leather sleeve, and in her peripheral vision, she caught a glimpse of wispy blond hair, the tips blowing lightly over her shoulder. She closed her eyes and shook her head, blood roaring in her ears as adrenaline coursed through her veins.

"No. No, it's not possible," she whispered.

~*O*~

This is the part of the story that gave me the most worries, so please, review and let me know your thoughts!

Crystalline Dreams
~*~ Sheyrina, Labyrinthian Dragon

Chapter posted 10/4/17