Dream Magic: Awakenings (4 page)

He noticed that, for some reason, flying towards something was easier than flying away from the same thing.
That doesn't make any sense. If I'm flying towards something, I'm also flying away from something else that lies in the opposite direction. Right?
Eric wasn't quite convinced by his own reasoning.

With all these thoughts in his head, he got a bit dizzy and decided to rest. He picked the tallest tree he could see and flew towards it. Touching the ground, even if indirectly through the branches of the tree, was a similar experience to that of the lift-off.
Maybe... one is like going home, the other like coming home.
The touch affirmed him in a way.

Eric enjoyed the view. From up here the trees seemed to have a special arrangement. When the wind picked up in strength for moment, the way the sunlight reflected on the leaves changed, and the pattern he saw shifted slightly as well. His classmates were jumping, floating and flying around the cliff. No one was staring down the depths anymore.

Lucy, Rose and Annie flew leisurely towards Eric. Rose twirled in the air, and Annie was explaining something to them. When they grabbed ahold a few of the stronger branches, the treetop shook and swung noticeably.

"Hey!" With both hands, Eric held onto the branch he was sitting on.

"Hey yourself!" Rose said with a grin. "Is this great or what? I used to have flying dreams when I was little, but this is so much better than I remember! I don't know why I didn't think of doing this sooner!"

"Perhaps because of the whole, you know, 'we're gonna die!' thing?" Lucy ran her hand through her somewhat ruffled hair, but it remained ruffled.

"Yeah... that," Rose said.

"How did it go?" Eric asked.

"I was very scared at first... but then I realized it has nothing to do with being afraid. If I want to fly, I have to jump. Simple logic," Lucy said.

"I'm very proud of all of you," Annie lauded. "Everyone deals with the fear in their own way, and you didn't let it rule you."

"Did everyone make it in our class?" Rose asked.

Annie's smile faded away. "Sadly, no. Four students quit this time, out of the eighteen. Hopefully they'll try again later, either in class or on their own," she shrugged. "Flying is my most popular class, the turnout is great, but I can't get everyone to fly. I used to explain everything beforehand, but it confused and scared my pupils even more. At least my success rate is substantially higher with this method. In the end, it's up to each person to take the leap." Annie sighed. "I would gladly take it instead of them - but I can't."

Rose put her hand around Annie's waist and snuggled. "I think you're a great teacher. You did what you could."

"Thanks, that's what I keep telling myself." Annie's smile returned. "Do you have any other questions? I don't have anything else planned for this class; you're free to go if you want."

"I have a question," Lucy said. "What is that boy doing?"

Eric looked to where Lucy pointed. He saw a small boy in a square-patterned shirt jumping down the cliff, and then flying back along the exact same path as he fell. Eric observed the little boy doing this several times in succession.

"Which one? Ah, I see who you mean." Annie smirked. "It's a rudimentary time-travel method some kids subconsciously use. He doesn't notice the flying back part; that's only visible to us. I bet he plays a lot of video games. You know, with extra lives and save points? It's an elegant solution to the 'awareness to ego-image' recreation problem, but it may have complications of its own."

A look of worry appeared on Annie's face. "In fact, I better go check on him and make sure he doesn't glitch into a loop... See you guys later! Have fun!"

In real life the default action is to sidestep the things we fear. Don't do this, avoid that. It works well enough - up to a point. In our dreams we can no longer pretend. We can no longer avoid our fears, and they come rushing from the dark depths of the subconscious, coloring our dreams in ghastly nightmarish hues.

- Practical Guide to Nightmares,
Dreamer's Handbook

"Good day. My name is Mr. Smith."

Mr. Smith stood tall, his suit gray and stylish. He raised his hand, and tried to adjust the necktie he wasn't wearing. "Thank you for coming."

Eric, Rose, Lucy and other youngsters were sitting on a wide wooden platform. It was late afternoon and the rays of the sun colored the sky red. A breeze appeared once in a while to rustle the leaves of the trees.

Eric was quite adamant about taking the nightmare class next, and they ended up signing up for it. Lucy agreed it was a necessary experience, while Rose thought it would be an easy class.

"I will be teaching the three nightmare classes: nightmare examination, nightmare combat and nightmare mastery. This one is the first of the three, and I hope you will partake in the advanced classes as well. The master level class includes a trial - if you choose to test yourself and pass, you will be invited to visit the Outpost, engage in missions, and help others deal with their nightmares."

Mr. Smith cleared his throat.

"Well, let us begin by familiarizing ourselves with the structure of nightmares. At the core of every nightmare is an emotion of fear; when this fear manages to surface, it latches onto the senses and distorts them out of proportion."

Eric had mixed first impressions of Mr. Smith. On one hand, he was a serious man, who didn't smile or twitch facial muscles if he didn't have to. Yet, the eyes in that stern face were almost kind, and his strict demeanor carried an aura of purpose and precision.
An old-school teacher.
Mr. Smith seemed distant, foreign even, to this ambience of tranquil joyousness.

"The senses attacked first are usually sight and hearing. This initial phase we call 'encountering a nightmare', and it will be the focus of today's class. If the nightmare is allowed to intensify, it takes over all the senses - distorting the presence as well as the decision-making process of the person. This phase we call 'being trapped in a nightmare'."

Mr. Smith paused, crossed his hands in front of him, and took a few breaths before continuing.

"Unfortunately, the process doesn't stop here. When a nightmare persists, it begins to inflict permanent damage depending on the nature of the nightmare - whether it's overt or covert, continuous or recurring, of variable intensity or not, and so on. Common resulting forms at this stage include mental breakdown, persistent anxiety, system shock and psychosomatic stress."

Mr. Smith's left hand began to tremble and he clutched it tightly at the wrist.

"The final phase is either partial or total obliteration of the ego structure. With partial obliteration, the nightmare becomes an integral part of one's identity and the shape..." Mr. Smith didn't finish the sentence. The trembling became more violent and pained nervousness showed on his otherwise expressionless face. "Excuse me."

Eric watched Mr. Smith turn around, retreat several steps, and straighten himself. He let go of his hand which was still twitching and shaking.
What's that about?
Eric looked to Rose and Lucy, questioning. They replied with shrugs and equally puzzled looks.

After a while, Mr. Smith returned and the shaking was gone. "I apologize for the interruption. Hopefully, you will never experience the more ominous stages of nightmare progression. Nevertheless, you will surely encounter them in others, since many adults have lived with their nightmares for so long they don't know who they are without them."

There was concern in Mr. Smith's voice. He raised his hand and pointed all-around in an encompassing motion: "Out there are the many grand dreams and goals which have spiraled out of control. These nightmares turn into a collective sludge which threatens not only the dream realms of humanity, but the real world as well. To stop this downward spiral, we need dreamers who are disciplined warriors and wise mages! The necessity is obvious." Silence followed and Mr. Smith's gaze became lost in the distance.

Eric was taken aback by the sudden change of tone. There was urgency, and a strange kind of sincerity in his voice.
He's a peculiar fellow.
Mr. Smith was knowledgeable, yet gave the impression of a monotone personality.
I mean, who wears a gray suit in this place?
But, there was something else that didn't quite fit. Eric's mind worked furiously to find a word to describe it... and churned out the word 'broken'. Eric couldn't explain why exactly this word got stuck in his mind, but it made him feel a little sad for Mr. Smith.

Mr. Smith's voice steadied and he continued with a lowered tone. "For the time being, let's focus on the task at hand. I will presently use ward magic to create a minor protective barrier, and conjuration magic to summon a specimen of the goblin species. Please sit around the circle I shall form now."

A magic sphere appeared in Mr. Smith's hand and quickly took on a green-brown hue. The sphere expanded to include Mr. Smith and a large portion of the wooden platform. A bright circle flared where the sphere intersected the ground, and except for the occasional shimmer, the rest of the sphere became invisible. He gestured for them to sit around the circle.

"The creature I'm about to summon is not evil. He is not from the human world, but he lives and dreams its own dream. At times, their dreams entwine with ours, and our fears are quick to fill the blanks of what we don't know. Fear distorts the dream; it hides and exaggerates. Too see past the nightmare, you have to see past the fear. Do not be alarmed, the goblin cannot leave the protective circle."

Mr. Smith closed his eyes. He put his hands together so that only his fingertips touched, and murmured under his breath. A flash of light appeared at the center of the circle and disappeared just as quickly.

"Greetings Gokrag!"

There was a goblin at the center; the same kind that haunted Eric's dreams.
Those teeth!
It had green pimply skin with charcoal markings, and it was wearing a tattered loincloth.
No club in either hand,
Eric noted with tense relief. The goblin grunted.

"How many of you have met a creature like this?" All hands went up in the air, some more hesitantly than others. "Good."

Eric's heart was beating fast, but the goblin made no hostile movements and there was the protective circle as well. He calmed himself. The goblin was much less fearsome in the flesh than in the back of Eric's mind.

"Thank you, Gokrag, for answering the summons per our agreement. Please accept this token of continued good will." Reaching behind, Mr. Smith produced a basket filled with food, and offered it. The goblin took the basket, sniffed it, lowered it to the ground and picked out a bony piece of meat. After slumping to the ground, it took a few small bites and began chewing slowly.

"Observe him. More importantly, observe the difference between what you saw in your nightmares and what you see in front of you. Even now, your perception is most likely distorted to a lesser degree. What do you find scariest about the goblin? That part is where the nightmare latches on to inflate itself."

Eric turned to Lucy and said quietly: "The scariest is the rocket launcher on its back."

Lucy chuckled. "Shhhhhhh."  

It didn't take Eric more than a few seconds to realize that the teeth were scariest to him. The eyes didn't look red nor demonic: just small, black and tired. Granted, the goblin was a bit smelly, but not nearly as obnoxious to overwhelm one's senses.

Why the teeth?
Eric looked at those jagged edges and yellowish spikes, devouring the meat one bite at a time. There was not much order to their arrangement; a few fangs didn't fit inside and remained in sight even when the creature closed its mouth. Eric tried to count just how many teeth there are, but the goblin refused to stop chewing.
They are not as big as I thought.
In Eric's past nightmare encounters the creatures' teeth were disproportionately big - such giant teeth couldn't possibly fit within the small head of the goblin. In his mind's eye, the goblin teeth shrank to the somewhat proportionate size visible before him.
Not big at all.
     

Time passed in quiet observation and self-reflection. The goblin was done with the bone and munched on a juicy orange.

"Is anyone brave enough to step into the circle?" Mr. Smith asked. "Is the fear really gone or have you just swept it under the rug? This is your chance to find out. Will you make sure this type of nightmare doesn't rear its ugly head again?"

Eric smirked. His hand was up in the air, along with Lucy's, Rose's and several others'.
More than half the class. Barely.

Mr. Smith picked out a tall, scrawny boy and directed him to enter the circle. The boy clasped his hands and raised them. He puffed his chest, and walked towards the circle as a champion entering a boxing ring. Mr. Smith's stern look silenced any would-be cheering from the audience, but amused expressions and a few chuckles could not be suppressed.

The boy carefully planted one leg inside the circle, and when the action met no response from the goblin, another careful step followed. At the third footstep, however, the goblin sniffed the air and made a slow, but deliberate advance towards the youth. In a blink of an eye, the boy was outside the circle. He sighed with relief and repeated the procedure several seconds later.

After a few tries, the goblin was getting annoyed and turned its back on the boy. Encouraged, the boy took a few more careful steps.

Suddenly, the goblin turned around with raised hands and a loud roar - scrambling to cover many steps in one, the boy fell on his behind with a thump. The audience was stunned in silence. The goblin made no further sign of aggression, but its roar turned into a throaty, cough-like sound.
He's laughing!
The boy quickly left the circle, obviously relieved and glad to be alive. There was cheering now, although it was unclear whom the cheer was for.

"Courage is admirable; cockiness is not," Mr. Smith said. "Who wants to go next?" After the spectacle, fewer hands went up in the air. "You. Go."