Dreams & Nightmares

“I can't sleep.”

Jaemi spoke the words out into the void as if they might come corporeal and fetch out an answer, a solution to her insomnia from the hidden corners of shadow around her, but no such answer came.

She sat curled up in her bed, her knees to her chin, just as she had ended up on the many nights that came before this one. Her eyes stung. Her body felt slow, laden with the lack of rest. Her hearing oversensitive, on alert despite her safety and need for sleep, picking up every slight noise as if her ears were those of a skittish doe.

Jaemi pleaded with imagined ghosts for sleep to take her as she unfurled, laying back down in her bed to stare exasperated at the ceiling. She begged for even a nightmare to take her, but the pleas failed to find ears that cared. She desperately wanted to join those out in the Dreamplains; the few times she had found sleep these past weeks had been blank, dreamless affairs. Jaemi thought maybe the desperation was what left her stranded in unending consciousness instead of drifting with the other Dreamwalkers. They all laid in the bunks around her, peaceful in the slumber that she swore must have come induced with how effortless they fell into it. Nothing betrayed the power they wielded except for a near-imperceptible haze slowly swirling around their heads. She could almost feel it radiating off of them, digging into her, taunting her.

Jaemi couldn't help but grow envious, even of the ones she considered her friends. She knew she was meant to be strong. She had been told so since she could first remember. And yet here she lay, the only conscious mind amid a sea of unconsciousness made of the very people she was meant to be stronger than.

Her thoughts turned to her parents and how much she wished they were here. Though she recoiled at the childishness of it, Jaemi wanted nothing more than to be tucked in by her mother and sung a lullaby by her father, his deep-voice song leading her protected through to the Dreamplains.

“Mother? Father? I can't sleep.” Jaemi closed her eyes and tried to imagine her parents into reality.

***

The old trees grew together at a rate that would see generations of families pass from old age by the second. In the span of a single breath the just-planted saplings had transformed into a young grove, in two they became an old forest. Three saw the wood rot and crumble, leaving behind a pile of mulch with no crop to feed.

The young Dreamwalkers stood together in awe of what they had been able to achieve, despite their apparent failure. Rhima wished her friend were by her side. She wanted her to see the marvels they worked in the Dreamplains, even if those marvels were only performed in an area sectioned for their training. Their instructors looked on from afar, three faces unmoved by the failed display of arboriculture, one looking off elsewhere.

“So your friend won't be joining us yet again?” The voice came from behind Rhima, jolting her from her thoughts and almost sending her from the Dreamplains entirely. Snickers rose in the aftermath of the remark as Rhima turned around. Before her stood exactly who she expected. “Such a pity, isn't it? You talk about her so much.”

“Shut up. You don't know that, Kalrem. She could still come through.” Rhima hated how childish the words sounded as they left her mouth. She knew better than to bite back so hastily, without thought. The cruel smiles and looks of condescension from Kalrem and their amassed group of followers let Rhima know any addition to her retort would do nothing but add more fuel to the pyre the group intended to verbally burn her upon.

As Rhima sunk inside herself and awaited the coming assault, Kalrem and their posse smiled, turned away, and walked off lost in conversation with themselves, seemingly satisfied to leave Rhima alone with their imagined comments and the embarrassment she had already inflicted upon herself. Rhima wasn't sure if that was better or worse, but she was glad to be free from their notice.

Her friend would come. She would join her in this section of the Dreamplains and they would look upon the yellow and purple tinged sky together.

***

Jaemi's mother had always told her she was special. Jaemi guessed most parents issued similar such praise to their children, but the words of her mother were echoed by the peers she had around her, though their words were usually whispered when they thought she couldn't hear them. Unfortunately, this praise, whispered or not, came with very few details as to the actual nature of her specialness. All she knew was that she was even if most of the time she felt she wasn't.

Jaemi sat up, shaking her head to try and displace the delirium clinging to her thoughts. Once upright, however, Jaemi could feel every cursed curl of her hair that came to rest on her skin as if each strand set her nerves alight with the slightest touch. The overstimulation almost sent an ungodly scream from her lips.

Jaemi shot out of her bed like predator on prey, snatching her hair together in one hand and a length of leather from her bedside in the other, tying them together in a maddened rush that left many of her hairs either pulled out or pulled too taught.

She stood panting, imagining the frustrated look of the resulting ponytail and managed to exhale a laugh, followed by a few more breaths to calm herself. She had been trying to sleep for too long and needed a rest from her attempts at rest. A scan of the room saw everyone still asleep in their haze despite her grand display of frustration. Rhima's face held a note of distress. A boy she forgot the name of had a tear rolling down his cheek. Kalrem was asleep on her side - a strange sleep position for a Dreamwalker - with her face in an expression of contorted confusion.

Thankfully, no one had fallen from their bed or knocked a bedside table over and the path to the door was clear. Jaemi, still dripping with envy, crept past the successful Dreamwalkers and fled out into the embrace of the night.

The moon was gone from the sky and there was very little on offer in the way of light. Thankfully, Jaemi had been alone with the dark countless times before and had become accustomed to its veil.

The absence of the night's moon set Jaemi's mind thinking of its second. She had memory of seeing nine Second Moons and knew she had been present without memory, albeit as a babe in her parent's arms, for a few others. Each one brought with it more talks of her specialness and less explanations as to why. What was so special about the Second Moon other than its irregular appearance and irregular appearance? Jaemi ran her fingers along the faintly blackened scars hidden under her hair, the texture of them sending a shiver down her spine.

Jaemi shook away the thoughts forming in her head and looked out across the dead stumps before her. With the veil of the night lifted by her accustomed eyes she could see the slight shadows the stumps cast as if they sucked the rest of the night's blackness into them. Jaemi knew the Dreamwalkers would be practising growing these trees on the Dreamplains, hoping to hone their skill enough that, together, they could pull them from the plains as they woke, replanting them in the currently barren fields before her.

As Jaemi thought of moons and dreams the shadows of the decayed stumps darkened further, truly sucking in the void of night. Before Jaemi could question or investigate what was happening, the shadows began pooling together, rushing from the stumps into one mass, stopping within a few strides of Jaemi and taking a form that refused to make sense to her eye.

“Jaemi?” The voice crackled with a slight drawl. It came from all directions besides from where the shadows themselves formed. “I've heard you're rather special.”

***

“The child will not be joining us.”

Rhima spun around with another jolt, tearing her defocussed eyes away from Kalrem and their group who, even though Rhima could swear they only just started walking, now leant on the other side of another once-forest, now mulch pile.

Before her, almost too close for comfort, stood one of the instructors. She knew his name as Instructor Samuels though she had never seen him so close. His face was made of sharp angles that led to a chin Rhima swore could pierce skin. When instructing he was nice enough but always direct, even when he was withholding a truth.

“The child will not be joining us.” Rhima stepped back as Samuels repeated himself, finding he was indeed too close for comfort. The faint purple hues radiating from him pricked at Rhima's eyes.

She studied Samuels for a moment, not truly understanding what his comment meant. Was he talking about Jaemi? Everyone in the bunks already knew she struggled to step into the Dreamplains. Rhima shook the topic away and decided to raise a new one. "You were behind me this whole time. You're what made Kalrem leave me alone, aren't you?"

"I did not make her leave you alone. I made her forget you ever existed."

"What?” The shock fell from Rhima's mouth, leaving it agape. She didn't understand. This had to be some sort of test. Maybe a trick? An instructor making another Dreamwalker forget felt wrong. And making then forget in the Dreamplains meant... “They won't remember me when they wake!”

“Hopefully.” Samuels looked different now. Any kindness in his sharp face was gone. The edges looked ready to cut strips from Rhima, his dagger-like chin pointed at her heart. “Look, Rhima, I have not been talking to you and I would like it if you stopped interrupting.”

“Wh—”

“I would like to see your friend.”

Rhima had countless replies ready, but all were stopped by a crack, as if summoned by Samuels' words, ran through her, from her neck down to her stomach.

A slow, horrific, guttural scream escaped Rhima as she felt the flesh of her torso tear apart. The pain wanted to send her to the ground to writhe, to try and find escape, but her legs remained planted. She hung parallel to the ground, knees bent, back straight. Her eyes spied the Dreamwalkers she came here with an impossible distance away, three instructors watching over them. She begged, tears in her eyes, for one of them to see her, for one of them to point her way and rush the whole group over. She knew even Kalrem wouldn't let her die like this.

No such thing happened.

Rhima was alone in her agony.

Rhima looked back towards Samuels, but her vision was obscured. The skin from her neck to her stomach had peeled back open from the centre, viscera clinging to the underside of her flesh. From inside Rhima's body a humanoid shape was crawling out towards Samuels. Rhima's brain refused to comprehend what was happening but allowed her to feel it all nonetheless. She swore the shape was the one she saw when she thought of her friend, the one that protected her when she dreamt alone.

Rhima's head lulled back limp, her legs still pinned her standing, her back parallel to the ground, her mind racing. Bile and blood ran from Rhima's mouth down her face, rivulets dripping into her nose or creeping further to sting at her eyes. She wanted to throw up, but felt empty. She wished to wake up, but something rooted her to the moment.

“You are late.” Samuels' voice cracked through her pain. It held an air of indifference as if what just happened meant nothing, the now broken girl before him merely a used tool, its purpose filled.

The humanoid shape stepped out of Rhima toward Samuels. Finally, Rhima's legs gave way and allowed her to fall to the ground. She felt free and in an instant her consciousness began to rise from the Dreamplains.

Before leaving to either the gods or her bed, a voice akin to a crackle in the guise of her friend replied to Samuels. “Sorry. Nightmares are such a fickle thing.”

***

“Who are you?”

“My name isn't what's of importance here. There are schemes brewin'. I'm here to throw the truth into the pot.”

“What?” The entity made no sense. Its uncertainty unnerved Jaemi. It stood undulating, holding no stable form, constantly shifting shapes that resembled nothing close to anything recognisable; but the words it spoke, despite where they originated, sounded as if any regular person were standing in front of her.

“I don't expect you to understand, little Jaemi. I just need you to listen.” The entity looked impossibly dark against the backdrop of the night. Even when she blinked Jaemi could see its silhouette. “There are machinations beyond your understandin' at work here, but you are a part of it nonetheless.”

“Part of what? I don't understand.” Jaemi felt the frustration built upon years of being told things without explanation bubble to the surface. At this moment the entity was just another thing telling her she was special without any reasoning. “Explain to me!”

“Listen!” the loud snap of the voice stunned Jaemi and stopped her raging. The entity let out what must have been a sigh before continuing. “Why do you think they call you special but stick you in bunks with a bunch of other Dreamwalkers, enterin' sectioned areas of the Dreamplains, releasing the dream's haze? Why do you think they call you special, talk you up, but don't teach you anythin' different? Teach you anythin' special?”

“I...” The questions didn't sit right with Jaemi, but neither did all the possible conclusions her mind was reaching. It was true no one else had mentioned the haze. “I don't know.” But she did. It was all coming together but she didn't want to speak the truth in fear of making it true.

The entity robbed her of the choice. “They don't want you walkin' the Dreamplains 'cause you're a Nightmare, Jaemi.”

The words struck like a bolt to the chest, the shock spreading to the end of Jaemi's limbs. She felt numb. Broken. The lies that had wrapped her for over nine second moons unravelled with the pull of one thread.

Jaemi was so taken by the new truth of her life it took an age for her to notice the thin bolt of shadow sticking out of the entity and into her chest.

“I am truly sorry, girl.” The drawl in the voice slowed to full effect. “You've been lied to too long,” the entity's speech now sounded within Jaemi's head as the shadow slowly retreated from piercing her, almost as if ashamed. “Nightmares are a fickle thing.”

Realisation, quickly followed by desperation, flooded Jaemi's mind. She wished for yesterday. Or the last few minutes of the night back when she didn't know anything but that she was special without knowing why. Even going back the last few seconds would have been enough, just so she could make a different decision and maybe change the outcome. Jaemi tried to speak any of the million words going through her brain, but nothing would escape through the voidful numbness that had become her body.

The last of the shadow pulled free from the wound and Jaemi stumbled forward, falling a step short of the embrace of the entity, her cheek pressing into the cold earth, dirt filling into her open mouth. She thought she heard one of the Dreamwalkers rise from their sleep with a scream. Rhima maybe? Or Kalrem? Jaemi tried to raise her head to call out to them, but strength had bled from her. Weariness swept over her body like the tide refusing to retreat. The rest Jaemi had pleaded for had finally come, but now she begged for it to stay away.

As her eyelids fell closed and Jaemi saw the black silhouette of the entity break apart and fade away, its voice crawled through her ear one last time.

"Dream well, child."

And so she did.