Landen let his hand fall into mine and led me down the stairs. Rose had brought breakfast for everyone, and they were waiting patiently for us. I smiled slightly and took a seat next to my father. From the corner of my eyes, I could see him looking me over – looking for a weakness that could bring me harm.
“Well,” I said, turning to him, “how do I look?”
“Tired,” he said, putting his arm around me and glancing at Landen. “You both look tired.”
I leaned into him, avoiding his eyes. I knew with one look he’d figure out that I was worried about Landen, about both of us. For a moment I pretended I was still his little girl and that he could still scare the monster that I feared away.
I felt him kiss the top of my head. “I want you to eat for me. It’ll give you strength,” he said, letting his arm fall from around me.
I nodded and looked down at the bowl of fruit, then began to push it from side to side, trying to find my appetite. Without warning, my ring slipped from my finger into my bowl. I felt the tension rise in the room.
“My hands must be cold,” I said, making light of how easily it slipped away.
Landen reached for the ring, then took it to the sink to rinse it off. Rose pushed her bowl to me and took mine away. “I’ll get you a muffin, too,” she said, clearly alarmed.
I shook my head and started to eat my fruit as fast as possible; their worry was exhausting. Landen sat down across from me, drying the ring. The silver had dulled, just as it always had when it left my skin.
“Maybe we should get a spacer for this or find a way to resize it,” Landen said, looking at the eye that was carved into the inside the band.
“A spacer, yes, but cutting it? No; I doubt you’d be able to. They must carry some significance, otherwise you wouldn’t have left them with the medallion,” Rose said.
I reached up and traced my medallion with my fingertips, remembering the images that came from it just a few short days ago. I could see Rose’s point; the rings were bound to hold some part of us from past lives. I always found the way the silver shifted colors a little eerie.
Landen reached for my hand, and I placed mine in his. As he caught my gaze, I felt his desire to steal me away to some distant place grow within him. I felt him fight with his intent as he slid the ring on my finger once again. In Chara, you’re taught to see signs in everything, to never believe in such things as coincidences. If Landen were the slightest bit more superstitious, he might have seen the ring falling from my hand as symbolic of me letting our love fall, placing it second - which is something that no citizen of Chara ever does.
I squeezed his hand and thought,
My hands really are cold, and I think we skipped dinner last night.
He dared to let a smile come to the corner of his lips.
I know
, he thought
I could feel the metal hug my skin as it hummed; it was as if it had somehow made itself smaller. I looked down curiously to see that the band was bright silver again.
“It feels tighter,” I said under my breath.
I could spin it comfortably, but there was no way it was going to fall off. As I shook my hand to show them, I felt anxiety rise in my father and Rose’s emotion, and reassurance in Landen’s.
“We may want to look into these. To say the least, they must be important,” Rose said, looking at Landen.
“I’ll mention it to Perodine when we go there tonight,” Landen said.
“Did she say anything about them before?” my father asked.
“No,” I answered. “She’s only referred to the medallion.”
“Have they shown you a power yet?” Rose asked
I looked into Landen’s waiting eyes. In the beginning, we’d thought that they were our protection - but looking back, knowing what we know now about our energy, it would be hard to say either way.
“Not clearly,” Landen said, breaking his stare with me and glancing at my father and Rose.
My father turned to his side so he could see me more clearly. “I want to talk to you about the way you sleep,” he said sincerely.
I cautiously glanced in his direction. I thought they’d all gotten over the fact that Landen and I left our bodies at night.
“Alright,” I mumbled quietly, expecting a speech.
“I have a fear that you’re not sleeping,” my father said.
Landen leaned forward, hanging on my father’s every word. “What do you mean?” he asked.
My father put his arm around me.“When we sleep, to truly rest we must enter REM, a dream state. I think that you’ve gotten so good at entering mediation that some nights you don’t allow your body to enter the state of dreams. That may be why you’re so tired,” he concluded.
“How would I know the difference? Doesn’t meditation rest the body enough?” I argued, thinking he was spending way too much time worrying about my health.
He cleared his throat and looked at Rose for some kind of help. She smiled and nodded, telling him to explain it. As he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I knew he was seeing me as his little girl again, not the woman I now was. “Meditation rests the body and calms the mind. If you don’t allow your mind to enter the dream state, you’re locking your subconscious in a vault, and all your struggles and hidden thoughts aren’t allowed to break through. Eventually, it will wage a war inside your mind, and you’re going to have to face what you’ve been through.”
I looked at Landen.
Do you think I’m dreaming wrong?
I asked.
I could see him taking in my father’s words, his concern growing.
Maybe that’s why you don’t wake like I do
, he thought. “You’re always waiting on me when we dream and when we wake,” he pointed out aloud, letting my father know he was more than likely right.
Even though I felt like they were too focused on me and that I was outnumbered, I was relieved that I had a reason that Landen had the emotions he had when we woke. They weren’t forecasting a dark future; they were the echoes of what he’d already been through.
“That may be why you don’t seem as overwhelmed by everything,” Rose replied.
I rolled my eyes, knowing he was just as overwhelmed as I was. The only difference between us was that I talked about how I felt and what I was afraid of, but he didn’t. He buried it, not to be mean or distant, but because he knew it would only make what I thought, feared, and felt even more unbearable.
Rose felt my aggravated emotion.“We’re not trying to overpower you. This could be dangerous. The lack of REM sleep could cause you to lose your appetite, become easily irritated, see hallucinations – even affect your long term memory, cause you have a lack in judgment. It is a very serious concern to have, and it’s important that your father brought it to your attention. You cannot afford to have anything impair you with everything that lies in your path. It’s vital that you listen to his advice.”
Absent-minded, I slowly moved my head from side to side, not feeling any less outnumbered. “Are you talking about the images from my medallion?” I questioned, reaching for my necklace. “How can we all have the same hallucinations?”
“No,” my father assured me as his shoulders tensed. Clearly, he was regretting bringing the notion up. “It could cause them. I’m just asking that you take the time to allow your mind to process everything it’s seen. I may be wrong; I admit that. I just want to keep you as strong as possible.” He looked down, then back up at me. “You know your dreams have a way of helping you sort through what is and what will be...some even believe that that’s the one place our spirit guides can speak clearly to us.”
“Spirit guides?” I mocked.
“Higher self, whatever you want to call it. It’s just a theory in some dimensions, but as a doctor, I can tell you that sleep and dreams heal. Dreams are a place where we see a reflection of what was and find a path to what will be. Everyone’s mind and body are powerful, and dreams are a power that very few embrace; those that do heal faster and find the answers they’re seeking.”
My finger began to trace an invisible snake across the table. When I was a kid, I remembered asking my dad why there was a snake through the medical symbol that was on every hospital, why that image represented his profession. I remembered the Greek mythology he spoke of, the story of Asclepius, the son of Apollo...his staff with the serpent...how he healed; some believed he did so through dreams.
Healing wasn’t my problem - at least not on a physical level, anyway - and dreams...dreams had never helped me work out anything. They let me see Landen, and they tormented me with nightmares.
As if she could read my thoughts, Rose spoke up. “Dreams can be more than what you’ve known them to be. They’ll be different now; I’m sure of it.”
“How can they be different? I’ve already proved that the way Landen and I dreamed was extraordinary. He’s real...I’m real...Drake is real.”
Landen clenched his jaw as he quickly glanced away from us. He was still furious about the nightmares. It didn’t matter that they were invoked, that Drake’s intent wasn’t as dark as it seemed; they hurt me - and you don’t hurt Landen’s family. He reminded me of his father at that moment, the warrior that Ashten was: fearless and extremely protective.
“Right,” Rose said, sighing, noticing the tension building in the room. “Listen, Willow, your soul is old, very old, and in this life – in the last few months - you’ve learned so much, so fast that you tend to skip over lessons, and you need those lessons...you need the fundamentals.”
“What lessons?” I asked, growing more and more frustrated with the idea that whatever I was doing when I slept was wrong.
“Well, most people first have to learn to remember their dreams, then some learn to dream lucidly. From that point, they learn astral projection: moving the soul from one point to another.”
“Lucid,” I repeated, casting my eyes between her and Landen.
“Waking up in a dream, knowing that you’re dreaming and controlling the dream, asking questions, or just having fun with your dreams, exploring your wildest desires. It’s a way to face your fears before they become real, a way to ask yourself why you’re dreaming this, what your conscious mind is missing.”
“I’m awake in my dreams, though. I’ve always known I was dreaming. I’ve always remembered them.”
My father looked to his side at me. “Correct, but that was your conscious mind, not a lucid dream. Your soul was moved to those . That’s what your grandmother is telling you; somehow, you grasp the hardest part of something first, but you need the learning process to fall back on. You need to understand what you’re doing so you know when you’re doing it wrong.”
“Well then, I’m not doing anything differently than I was before, so why are you so worried about it now?” I scorned them, ignoring any and all advice they were giving me.
We
were not the issues; Donalt’s ghost was, those damned people were.
“Because now, more than ever, you need to find a way to connect with your subconscious. No one could go through what you’ve been through without some kind of release, some time to reflect and look forward. Dreaming, or even lucid dreaming, would allow you to do that. You need a release,” he pointed to my temple, “you need to figure out what’s going on here so you can figure out what’s going on all around you.”
“I rather enjoy living in denial,” I mumbled. My thoughts were erratic, and the last thing I wanted to do was face what I’ve locked away deep inside of me. Spirit guides? Was he serious? I have enough guides without adding to it. Besides, when Landen and I dreamed together, it was the only time we were truly alone. That was our time, and I wasn’t going to take those movements away; one could argue that they were the only thing holding us together in the first place.
I nodded and pushed my bowl away; whatever appetite I may have had was gone.
“Willow, we’ll figure it out,” Landen said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.
Dreaming is our time, and I don’t want to feel helpless and drift. I don’t even know if that’s safe
. I thought.
You are never helpless. Right now, I would daresay that you’re the only soul the devil fears
, he thought.
I smiled slightly and nodded, feeling the emotions of my father and Rose shift to gratitude. They both admired how Landen could reach me, even in my darkest places.
“What time are you leaving for Esterious?”my father asked, fully intending on going with us.
“In a few hours,” Landen answered. “I’m going to help Brady load a few Jeeps. Chrispin is traveling, so they’re short-handed.”
“What?” I said, not understanding why Chrispin had left. Our family had suspended taking people to find their soul mates; we all felt like we should stay together, that we’d be safe that way.
“Brady said he left a note on his door that said Olivia wanted to go to Franklin. He didn’t really explain why,” Landen admitted, clearly not concerned.
“Why, though? Do you think something’s wrong? I mean, we don’t have to worry about my friends there anymore, right?” I asked, leaning forward as my body tensed.
“I’m sure she just wanted to see her family before we’re all consumed with this trial,” my father said.
I’d caused Landen to have a concern.“Did Libby say anything?” he asked my father.