by E. J. Mellow
The hidden cameras now swing to my face, plastering it across every screen, my too-large eyes staring straight ahead, and I can barely register my relief that my mouth isn’t gaping open like a helpless moron.
I can’t move. I’m frozen just as the rest of Terra, until someone behind me—I’m pretty sure it’s Hector—actually, I know it’s Hector—pushes me forward, right as the crowd falls into chaos.
There’s yelling, shouts, collective outrage, and confusion. The thunderous noise of the crowd flipping out below pushes against me, causing me to want to run, to turn away and find Dev’s reassuring embrace. But I know I cannot. This moment is my responsibility, and mine alone.
Elena’s blue eyes hold mine, her presence the only thing enabling me to put one foot in front of the other and go to her, a fish on a hook being reeled in. Her hand gently rests on my shoulder, a burst of her comforting energy seeping into me, and the two of us peer across the ocean of citizens, our faces plastered across the screens. Elena appears sure, confident, and regal in her billowing alabaster dress, while I…I look like no one I recognize. My hair is pulled tightly back, the white strip in it bright against my dark locks, and my cheekbones jut out in a severity I never knew I had, the invisible spotlight above creating a hardness to my features that is unfamiliar to me. The boning of my protective vest forces my posture straight, my shoulders back, and though I feel like a chicken without its head, I resemble anything but. I look tough, a soldier, someone who can indeed make a difference. In this moment I am so reminded of Riki’s statue in the Dreamer Gallery that my breath hitches. Have I truly changed so much and not known?
Something strange happens then, taking this in—something inside me clicks into place, something that feels a lot like acceptance, or maybe it’s finally understanding. I truly am a Dreamer, just like those who came before me. I might have told myself that before, but here now, standing above all of Terra, I am overcome with a strange sense of what I’m meant to do.
With the roar of the angry crowd below seeming unending, I step out of Elena’s embrace, now truly alone, dangling above a world, knowing this will be the most important test of my life, the start of my legacy. With the collective centuries of Dreamer memories at my disposal, I pull forth what I need, and with a deep breath, tip my chin up and force my eyes forward as I blink into the plane of energy. Everything bursts into blue light, the thousands of souls below illuminated with their life energy that twists inside them. Riki is here, Vibius, my grandfather, and all the other Dreamers I’ve acquired. We stand together and we wait, wait for the crowd to understand our desires as we push it out to cover them. It’s a blanket of our thoughts, our will. Quiet, we tell them. Ease yourselves, and after a few gasps of shock, of sighs, the noise dies down. It’s just me and the gentle wind passing through as every pair of eyes in the square gaze up.
And this is when I speak. “What your elder has shared is true,” I say, my voice booming through the energy-laden air. “I am your Dreamer, a Dreamer. My people fly above us”—I gesture to the sky—“the souls you’ve gazed upon endlessly, and while their energy brings life to this world, while I carry it with me here, I assure you I am no different from each one of you. I still need to breathe to live, eat to survive. I have the same desires of peace for both Terra and Earth and know the importance of their survival. I’m not sure why I was chosen to come here, to help in this war, but I have seen the lives of the ones who have come before me, of their sacrifices, and I will do everything in my power to continue their legacy as well as move a new step forward with my own.” I momentarily pause, the crowd murmuring as I ready myself for what I know must come next. “Elena has spoken of rumors, of things I can do, and I’m sure some of you recognize me as the one who has fought alongside you. I want you to know that I will keep fighting, keep helping until the very end. But I also want to show you that I am not merely here to be a weapon, to destroy. You must remember the origin of my powers, what I’m made of.” I glance out to the awaiting mass. “And that is dreams.” With the echoing of my last words filtering through the speakers, I let the energy I hold within me zip down my arms to my hands. It sizzles and tingles along my nerve endings, and I just have to think it once—fly—to find myself floating up, my feet leaving the ground, until I’m hovering in midair for all to see. There are gasps, a few cries of alarm, but I block it all out as I close my eyes and switch my mind to automatic, to what calls out for me to create, and when the coldness in my head collects to near freezing, my eyes blink open, and with a burst, I paint the night in light.
— 25 —
It rises at the far end of the square, the yellow glow of the sun seeping between the cracks and alleys set by the close cluster of skyscrapers. Lines of warm light filter over the crowd, wrapping around buildings that have only ever been touched by dark. Like golden threads weaving into a blanket, it covers everything, and I watch as heads turn, a wave of movement, to glance behind them. The sound of astonishment, of confusion and shock are a dull hum in my ears as the energy within me soars, mimicking the rising ball of fire, and my mind prickles with the cold collection of Navitas. With muscles tense and my hands palms up, I roll out a blue sky to mask out the black one, the shooting stars replaced by white clouds and a fluttering of birds as they make their way south. The sun now sits high over City Hall Square, nestled between two fluffs of cotton and bringing everything below to life with new colors. The leaves of the trees shine green and fresh, the whitewash of the surrounding marble lit in a warm yellow hue. I pop flowers from the ground, imagining their petals a rainbow of shades, their stalks tall.
The citizens move back as they spring up by their feet and gaze mesmerized as butterflies flap their delicate wings to dance around them. I pull ivy from the base of the columns that surround us, and I let it climb and crawl and sprout emerald-green leaves as it overtakes the buildings. I construct a jungle of life, a world that I know these people have only seen under a glass dome and others not at all. I allow the most beautiful animals in. Peacocks roam free, a buck with a crown of mossy antlers stands atop City Hall’s stairs, while leopards and cheetahs prowl docile. I let it all remain there for a moment, to thrive and fill the air with fragrance. I let Terra take it in, see it, believe it, believe me, and then slowly, delicately, I pull it all back until the sun sets and the world is once again in its constant night. The only dash of color is the reappearing orbs in the sky as they fly to their dreams, to a place I was able to pull my energy from.
With my creation’s end, so is my flight, and I rest my feet once again on the balcony. I now stand, regarding the silence as I take in two breaths and then three, a nagging fear that this might have been a horrible mistake, but right on the precipice of my fourth breath is when it begins.
The square erupts in cheers, and my legacy is born.
—∞—
In the days that follow, Dreamer information booths are erected throughout the city, Vigil representatives who, in my opinion, are given a rigid script of appropriate answers, are set to man them and pass out pamphlets. For even though my announcement went as smoothly as it could, it wasn’t enough to keep out the suspicion and doubt.
Who’s to say she won’t use her powers against us? How could they have kept this from us for so long? Isn’t it dangerous to have something so uncontrollable here? But shouldn’t we worry about her carrying those diseases humans so often get? I hear she can read minds!
I mean, for Terra’s sake.
Hearing the nervous whispers of the citizens is enough to make me happy that I’ve been momentarily stuck indoors.
Well, almost.
While my physical training with Hector and sessions with Elena continue, my days are mostly filled with meetings with Cato. And nothing about these hours improves my opinion of him, or more accurately, changes it. I can’t quite put my finger on my discomfort, but something about him seems…well, robotic.
I get glimmers of similar apathetic behavior from Elena, but she at least appears t
o have a soul warming her body. I’m not sure if it’s from living for more centuries than I care to count or something that happens with the elders after a time—or both—but Cato is the epitome of dull. He’s all rules and musts and pinched brows followed by condescending pursed lips. How he’s supposed to be the go-to man for the temperature of Terra’s happiness is beyond me. I haven’t seen him smile once. Well, maybe once, but I’m pretty sure that was from gas.
The worst though is that the elder seems more than okay with usurping every hour of my free time. Despite my earlier argument against it, he’s still managed to stop me on more than one occasion as I made my way to help fight a Metus attack. The only thing keeping me from stomping my foot like a petulant child is Dev’s reassuring gaze telling me they’ll be able to manage without me—for now.
Even as we travel to the first stop on Cato’s rather ambitious Dreamer PR tour, he still insists I sit with him to go over the schedule. Who cares that I’ve already heard it a dozen times? Might as well make it thirteen. So here I sit, in a very swanky decorated airship across from Cato and Elena, listening to the elder of the elders go through the itinerary.
“When we get to Port City, we will meet with the elected delegates first before doing a boat and walking tour,” Cato says as he reclines, legs crossed in a puffy leather chair, his age-spotted finger scrolling through his tablet. “After that you will attend a dinner in your honor.” His green gaze flickers my way. “While this outpost has our highest Vigil population, we have invited enough influential Nocturna to have this visit be beneficial. And all of us are in agreement that having Dev as your evening’s companion will help persuade any Nocturna skeptics.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, more than a little uncomfortable to have Dev act as some pawn. Sure, use and move me around, but I’d rather keep the rest of the people I care about out of it. Dev of course has no problem being included in this political game. In fact, he seems to gain a weird pleasure from it. Glancing beyond Cato, I look down the long belly of the beige-carpeted ship to where Dev sits with Hector in a corner booth. Dev looks a little tense, given his present company, but lately the two men have been able to put aside their differences and work together somewhat amicably.
“We will have a small demonstration the following day,” Cato continues, and I catch Elena’s gaze, a sympathetic tug at her mouth. Even she seems sorry for my predicament, and I’m not sure if that’s reassuring or not. With a quiet sigh I peer out the large window. We’ve been in flight for about an hour, and the dark landscape has gone from the grassy field closer to the city of Terra to the sandy desert I remember visiting with Dev when he showed me the Sea of Dreams. I can just make out its blue glow on the horizon, the racing stars above curving in the sky to reach their desired resting place—the Sea where they can finally dream. The tragic event that occurred the last time I was there, with Alec, settles like a weight in my stomach, and I push my mind to other things.
Studying the barren landscape, I wonder how much longer we have in flight. Dev told me Port City is the closer of the three smaller outposts of Terra, and I know these aircrafts can travel at an almost lightning speed, yet we’re moving at a leisurely pace. Something about this causes me to shift in discomfort, for taking one’s time has never been something I’ve been able to afford.
“Molly.” Cato brings my attention aback to him, his wrinkled face set in another signature pucker. “Have you been listening?”
“Yes,” I say quickly. “I’m not to speak about my DNA transfer or mention Rae becoming human.”
Cato taps his ringed pinky on his crossed knee, seeming a little put out that I was, in fact, listening. “You understand the importance of this, yes?”
“No, actually.” I turn completely toward him. “Isn’t Rae’s sacrifice an important one? Shouldn’t he be honored in some way?”
“His close Vigil friends know what he did,” Elena says. “And his name will be added to our wall.”
My fingers dig into my armrest. “But he’s not dead.”
Cato raises one delicate brow, as if to say, And?
I resist a growl. “All of Terra deserves to know what he did. Rae deserves it.”
This elicits an amused snort as Cato flicks a speaking glance to Elena. “Molly, really, use your head. What do you think would happen if the citizens of Terra—if the Nocturna,” he clarifies, “knew they had a chance to see Earth, of having a potential life there?” My silence seems to be his desired response, for he nestles more smugly in his chair. “Exactly,” he says. “This was an experiment done under extreme desperation and will not be repeated. It cannot be. Life here is already too delicate for such a technology to exist, let alone the fact that it would most definitely be used in the black market, thus making it unmanageable. Our anonymity from Earth would be sabotaged, and I hardly care to imagine what humans would do if they knew of us. I mean, by the stars, races from your own neighboring countries are hardly allowed to pass your American borders. It would be chaos.”
I chew my bottom lip. I know when Riki was alive, her village seemed to know of Terra, but the world was much smaller then. Differences in faith was something universally understood and accepted, not fought over. What would happen if Earth knew of this place? I hate to admit that Cato’s prediction is correct, but the more I think about it, the more I find myself begrudgingly agreeing.
“Am I correct in thinking we’ve covered everything?” Elena asks Cato, her composed form not moving an inch since we took off. Her hands are still politely folded in her white lap, her chin-length hair coiffed just right.
Cato answers by waving a tired hand.
“If you’d like”—Elena turns to me with a knowing grin—“you may sit with your friends now.”
With a grateful nod, I make my way to Dev. Upon seeing my approach, his scruff-filled face showcases a welcoming smile, and he makes room for me beside him in the booth, where I slide into the crook of his arm.
“How was it?” he asks.
“Riveting,” I say with as much sarcasm as I can muster.
“And that’s where I don’t envy you.” Hector drapes one arm across the back of the beige leather couch across form us, his longs legs set in an impressive sprawl into the aisle.
“You mean you’d gladly be responsible for the life of two worlds otherwise?” I ask with mocking raised brows.
“No,” he muses. “I suppose not. But I would be more than happy to conjure anything at will. I’m rather surprised you don’t more often.”
I’m distracted by a passing steward asking if I need anything. Declining any refreshments, I turn back to Hector, taking in the way his usually severe scar appears softer under the warm lighting of the ship. “It takes more focus than you’d think,” I say. “And…I don’t know. I forget sometimes.”
Hector laughs. “You forget? By the stars, Molly, you really are the chosen one, aren’t you?”
“Stop it.” Dev cuts a glare at the Vigil.
“I’m not trying to be insulting.” Hector settles more comfortably in his seat. “I honestly find that incredible.”
“Find what incredible?” I ask.
“You.” He waves a graceful hand toward me. “Such humility. Do you know what others would be doing right about now if they had your powers? Everything but what you are now, probably.”
“And that’s why they don’t have her powers,” Dev says dryly.
“Perhaps.” Hector drums his fingers on the back of the couch while looking back to me.
“Why, what do you think I should be ‘conjuring up’”—I air quote—“right about now?”
“A gluttony of food or music,” Hector suggests. “I mean, at the very least some beautiful women to help us pass the time.”
“I’ll be sure to share that last part with Aveline.” Dev cocks an unamused brow.
Hector merely gives him a slick smile.
“So you’d want me to use my powers on frivolity?” I cross my arms over my chest.
&nbs
p; “One man’s frivolity is another man’s treasure.”
“That’s not how the saying goes,” I clarify.
“No?” he says in faux confusion. “Well, it should be.”
I regard him for a moment, the way he carries himself with such indifference and yet such grace—a bored royal. “And you and my grandfather really got along?”
Hector immediately stiffens, his mocking grin changing into a tight line. “Like brothers.”
“Hmm” is my only response, watching my Vigil guard sit up straighter, his attention moving to other parts of the ship. I still haven’t learned what exactly happened between him and my grandfather, why Hector grows so uncomfortable any time I mention him. I never seem to get the right opportunity to approach the subject, but I realize now could be just that.
“We’re here.” Dev peers out the window to our right, and I move closer.
“Whoa.” I breathe, taking in the scene below. In the middle of the dry terrain rests a large lake, the waves twinkling from boats soaring across the water. Right in the center is a blue glowing city settled on ringed strips of land. They start small in the middle and then grow larger, like a ripple with water canals dividing each from the other. As we fly nearer, I notice the variant of bridges that connect them and sleek-looking boats that fill the channels. Our ship tilts, turning in the direction of one of the central buildings on the middle island. Its metal sides jut high into the night, pulsing with the familiar blue-white often found in Terra. I make out a crowd gathered on the roof where we’re to land, and my hand finds Dev’s as my heart picks up pace.