Dreamweavers: Awakening

by P J G Robbins

always endeavour to only put you in situations that are comfortably within your limits.’

  ‘Hang on a minute,’ put in Billy. ‘We’re lying safe and sound in our beds. This place doesn’t really exist. What could possibly happen to us?’

  ‘What indeed?’ replied Tristram, eyeing Billy carefully. ‘It is a common misconception that dreams are something detached from the body; something the mind conjures up to keep itself amused while the body is resting. They are not. How often have you heard the phrase ‘Died peacefully in their sleep’?’

  Blank faces all round.

  ‘Believe me, death while sleeping is anything but peaceful. It is a result of extreme stress on the mind, which eventually has no choice but to succumb. And of course, without the mind the body is useless.’

  ‘So if you die in a dream you die in real life?’ asked the goat-boy.

  ‘Think about it,’ said Tristram. ‘How many times have you come close to death in a dream and then all of a sudden woken up? Probably more than just a handful. The mind is programmed to instinctively react to such situations and rouse the body from its slumber. However, if the mind can be tricked into thinking everything is okay it can fail to rouse the body in time.’

  ‘Sounds a bit far fetched to me,’ said Billy.

  ‘As does a winged man talking to a leopard, a robotic goat and a girl made of rock,’ replied Tristram evenly. ‘Look, I know there’s a lot to take in here and no easy way to prove any of it. I would be grateful if you could just trust me on this and hopefully things will become clear in time.’

  Billy gave the briefest of nods but said nothing.

  ‘Good. Now, I take it that since no-one has disappeared from our midst that none of you object to me continuing. Let’s start from the beginning shall we? This place, as far as we can tell, has existed in some form or another since the dawn of mankind. We do not know when the first Dreamweavers discovered it, but history would suggest it was when the first full-blown civilisations began to spring up. The feats achieved by those such as the ancient Egyptians are remarkable even by today’s standards, and would certainly have required a visionary imagination to accomplish; one that would be more than capable of reaching this place. Incidentally, this theory can be expanded further to suggest where such civilisations took the forms of some of their deities. The Egyptian gods Thoth, Anubis, Ra and more all take on a human-animal form in the hieroglyphics we can see to this day. It is possible that these were inspired by some of the earliest avatars.

  ‘Anyway, how much they knew of their gift, and what they did with it, remains a mystery. Back then Dreamweavers were few and far between – even more so than nowadays – and spread out across the entire globe. It was not until the turn of the last century, when methods of worldwide communication were beginning to improve, that Dreamweavers began to meet in real life and discuss their gifts. Some were quite advanced, having realised their own potential and developed their skills for their own pleasure. Meanwhile others were just starting to discover the extent of their capabilities.

  ‘In 1915 the Academy was formed. Its goal was to inject hope and happiness into the minds of people during extremely dark times. Back then, this place was just an island and the tower didn’t exist. The Nightmare Realm, which exists on a plane beneath us, is a place where bad dreams happen, and it was there that the Dreamweavers focussed most of their efforts. As their skills grew they met with greater success, and as more people turned up they sought to learn from one another, to better themselves and the dreams of mankind.

  ‘Then, as clouds of the Second World War grew on the horizon, a Dreamweaver – probably the greatest of his generation – named Mikhail Rasputin identified the need to pass on as much knowledge as possible to the younger generations, in case too many Dreamweavers fell in the coming conflict. Through the knowledge he had gained of the workings of the Dream Isle he created this tower, albeit without the outer wall you see behind me. To this day very little is known of how he went about achieving such a feat. To manipulate this place in a similar way to how you would alter a dream is a gift that only a handful of Dreamweavers have ever possessed. With the Spire created as a centre of learning, Rasputin and his colleagues focussed on passing on their knowledge to whomever they could. And it was fortunate they did, for the war claimed the lives of many.

  ‘As the conflict drew to a close, things here began to change. Rasputin, who was revered by virtually everyone who met him, began to lose his way. It is said that the horrors that he had experienced during the war had left him bitter, disillusioned and full of hatred. Rather than assist the rest of the Academy in rebuilding the dreams of a shattered world, he sought vengeance and began to abuse his powers. His skills were so advanced that he soon found ways to torture the minds of those he held responsible for the bloodshed, and from there it was a short step to murder.

  ‘At the same time he did his utmost to coerce others to join his cause, with a degree of success. However, the Academy soon found out what he was up to and sought to banish him from the Dream Isle. But Rasputin’s power and cunning were too great for them, and he merely retreated to the Nightmare Realm and set up his base of operations there. And so it is that we find ourselves in the situation we are in today; locked in a struggle to keep him and his minions from sowing the seeds of hatred and despair.’

  The kids around him sat with long faces, slowly digesting what he was telling them.

  ‘But Second World War was years ago,’ piped up the fairy in a sing-song voice. ‘He can’t still be mad about that.’

  ‘I’m afraid he can,’ said Tristram gravely. ‘But in any case, times have changed and his motive is no longer solely revenge. Over the past few decades the wider world has discovered how important Dreamweavers are to maintaining a sense of balance within the collective mental state of humanity, causing a new threat to emerge. Various parties with nefarious agendas have sought the services of Rasputin, and he and his cronies are now acting as mercenaries, selling their skills to the highest bidder. They were present during the fall of Eastern Europe and the various conflicts in the Middle East. Assassinations, hostile takeovers; whatever the task, they seek to spread anarchy and fear, sometimes subtly, sometimes through merciless slaughter. They have become the single greatest threat to world stability in this age and it is our job to stop them.’

  There were a few moments of stunned silence.

  ‘But we’re just kids and teenagers,’ said the fairy. ‘What can we do?’

  ‘Ah, that’s the beauty of Dreamweaving,’ said Tristram smiling. ‘Kids have far better imaginations than any other age group. As people get older and see the world for what it is, their minds tend to dwindle. They get stuck in a job, get a house and family and go through the same old routine, day in, day out. Kids, however, see the world as a limitless place and hence their imaginations are not so restricted. The age at which people first discover the Dream Isle varies greatly. I think the youngest Dreamweaver ever encountered was about four years old, although that really was an exceptional case. More often it starts around the ages of eight or nine, but rarely does it commence beyond the late teens. Once people are here it is easier for them to stay because they know what is needed to remain a good Dreamweaver. It would be extremely uncommon for someone in their twenties or beyond to arrive here for the first time. By then the mind is normally too set in its ways.’

  At that moment there came a cry from the outer wall and several senior Dreamweavers hurried past the group to see what was going on. Tristram glanced over his shoulder and flexed his wings agitatedly. He appeared to be in two minds as to what to do next.

  ‘What is it?’ asked Daisy. ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Just a minor alert I expect. Maybe a sighting or something. Look, you all seem a little uncertain about what I’ve been telling you, so how about I give you guys a few minutes to discuss it amongst yourselves? I know it helped me when I first arrived.’

  With that, he rolled back off the railing and disappeared. M
ost of the group sprang to their feet and peered over the edge, but he had glided safely to the ground and gave them a wave as he walked away. Billy, who had not run to the railing, was prowling back and forth agitatedly.

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ he said out loud. ‘Laughable even. I must be going crazy to be dreaming this sort of rubbish. I’ll wake up in the morning and it’ll be nothing more than some messed up product of my imagination.’

  ‘Well, I guess you’ll be the first to find out,’ said Ryan, turning round. ‘If you and Soph can look one another in the eye tomorrow morning and say this never happened, then it really is just a dream. In fact, it really would just be my dream and none of you would know anything about this.’

  ‘Unless we’re all going nuts and having the same nightmare,’ said Sophie.

  ‘Will you guys cheer up?’ said Daisy breezily. ‘We should all be happy to be sharing this wonderful gift. Anyway Ryan, you and I already met here last night, so you know you’re not going crazy.’

  The others looked at Ryan, surprised.

  ‘I… err…’ he stammered.

  ‘Yes?’ said Sophie, looking at him with renewed interest.

  Ryan sagged.

  ‘All right, yeah, we did,’ he said with a shrug. ‘We met down on the beach and