by Angela Timms
As I have the Tardis I think I will use it to get to the time and place on Earth where I can speak to the Weaver of Dreams. It is a detour but then who will know? A few more space and time miles on the clock they may worry about but then they are going to worry anyway. The Weaver of Dreams will know what to do, or I hope she will. I think I may have to borrow this little blue box a little bit longer. I am sure they won’t mind. Well they have no choice. I’ll have it back before they know I have taken it. Unless I get killed in which case they can’t tell me off anyway.
Ok Tardis, take me to the Weaver. I have to remember which levers to pull but here we go. It is a complex control panel to manipulate. Nothing like I’ve seen before and nothing like the Tavern. So hopefully I’m going to get it right again.
Ok, so now I have to find some clothes as the proximity to the Weaver of Dreams will give this body a physical form on Earth. I can’t go wandering around without clothes, it is just not done. So I’m going to have to borrow some of those as well. Thankfully The Doctor has a great collection and an amazing wardrobe for all eras, times and planets though he rarely wares anything other than his chosen appearance. I however will certainly be able to find something that I like. This is even more exciting as it is time to raid the wardrobe room.
The Tardis ground into action and phased out of time and space. It spiraled through the eons and dimensions and returned to Earth. I, The Weaver of Dreams am writing this as I watched the little Frixian approach and I think it is more appropriate that it is written this way.
It landed on a windswept hillside beside a pile of rocks at Dynas Emrys, North Wales. The door opened and a tall woman with curly black hair stepped from inside. Her hair blew in the wind around her black tail coat and frilly white shirt. She wore a bowtie as bowties are cool, around her neck as a choker. Her harlequin pattern leggings were in stark contrast to the black and white of the jacket and shirt but she just could not resist them. She had a pocket watch which seemed like a good idea but she had left the rather elegant walking cane behind even though she had been so tempted to take it. On her head she had a silken top hat which she had decorated with bits and pieces from the junk box. Watch cogs and other bits and pieces. Similar bits and pieces were sewn onto the lapel of her jacket. She smiled, that was the wonder of time travel, you can take as much time out as you like to do what you want and she had been a bit mischievous with time. Well nothing lost as the time now didn’t exist. She had taken a swim in the pool, had a wander around and then made her outfit. Now it was time to face reality again.
cv She stepped onto the soft grass and walked out into the chilled air, really wishing she had picked up a warm coat. She turned, shut the door and took the key out and put it in her pocket. She patted her pocket and reassured herself that it was safe. She then took it out of her pocket and fixed it onto her watch chain.
She looked down in wonder and wondered at her physical form. Physical, solid and very able to be hurt by anything mortal but very mortal and she loved it. At any other time she would have loved the feel of the breeze on her skin and the solid ground under her feet. But this was serious and she had a job to do.
With the Tardis behind her standing in the bleak hilltop she took step after step and walked to a tall stone. She put her hand on it and called for the Weaver of Dreams. It wasn’t in words, it was a cry from the heart.
A crack appeared in the stone which became large enough for her to walk through. She didn’t hesitate other than to take a deep breath before stepping inside and as stairs going down were in front of her, down the stairs she went, deep into the earth. The rough cut stone was solid under her feet. A strange green glow lit the stairs. The illumination came from the green moss which grew in crevices on the walls.
The air was musty, damp and smelt of ancient caverns and old storybooks. At the bottom of the steps the tunnel opened up into a small cave with a stream running through it. It was obviously natural as stalactites hung down and almost met stalagmites which reached up craving that touch from the ground. The droplets of water that had created them over hundreds of years fell silently, leaving particles behind and leaving others on the stalagmite they fell on.
The cavern smelt slightly of incense and was warmer than she would have expected. It was better lit than the stairway. Then she realized why it was warm and well lit. There were lit torches in sconces on the walls and candles on every outcrop capable of supporting them. A myriad of light that twinkled steadily in the totally still air. They gave light and heat.
On the other side of the stream there was an alcove about five feet up the wall. It seemed to glow and called to her. She could feel it, see it and she knew it was important.
She stepped cautiously forwards. Slowly and feeling every step as she was more afraid than she had ever been. There was old magic here, dragon magic. This she knew was the last hall of the Dragon Kings. This had been the last place that all the Dragon Kings had met together before the old magic was drained from the world and the Dragons slipped into myth and memory.
Her feet were bare, her shoes were gone, her clothes had become a diaphanous gown and as she stepped into the water her feet became clawed. It was deeper than she expected and as she crossed she became fully immersed and had to swim. Her body changed and she too became a dragon. This form seemed somehow comfortable, somehow right. It was an ancient memory, she had been like this before, perhaps not in this life.
The water had become impossibly deep and what had looked like a small stream was becoming impossibly wide but still as a mill pond. She was swimming even though in her memory she didn’t know how or was sure she didn’t know how but she kept going. It was strange for her as she could feel her clawed legs pulling at the water, her long scaly tail acting like a rudder and propelling her through the water across what seemed like an impossibly wide river now.
She swam and swam until she reached the other side of what was now a lake where the water got shallower again and she walked out of the water and stood on the bank. She was back in human form again, dressed in her clothes and completely dry.
A golden light surrounded her and a peace she had never felt before. She stepped forwards, not forgetting her quest and as she got closer to the alcove she could see a simple wooden cup bound with metal bands. A golden glow seemed to surround it, lighting the room.
She reached for it, afraid that it would kill her but knowing that she
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must do something with it. It felt solid, wooden and very, very old yet not fragile or rotted in any way. As she lifted it she heard my voice in her head. I spoke to her gently so as not to scare her as I whispered. “A promise”. A golden light shone like a torch from the top of it, a beam which bounced off the ceiling above and the world seemed to spin around her.
It was then that she realized that she was now no longer alone. Standing to her right there was a huge gold dragon. Widget smiled. “Your eyes are soft, not how I’d imagined. You know they are very goat like with the same slit pupil.”
My scaled head was lowered and I was looking at Widget who for a moment felt panic as she was obviously holding something important and definitely wondering if she was going to have to steal it away from the dragon. I could hear her thoughts screaming this and inwardly I smiled. Then she took a deep breath. Of course she didn’t have to, she was here to speak to the Weaver and she must have found the dragon she was looking for. Yes indeed, I was the dragon she was looking for. Then there aren’t many of us so it was a fairly good chance that I was.
I spoke as quietly as I could. “Fear not, for today you have seen a great light and the people in darkness will see it again too if they would just look. The power of dreams and hope is stronger than the darkness we are faced with now.
You are looking for a weapon, when what you need is a dream and a belief. That is all they need too. To set aside anger and look for similarities rather than a need to fight each other.”
Widget felt so very, very small. “How will that
happen.”
The dragon laughed. “They will stand together when they have a bigger enemy.”
Widget frowned. “I don’t think I like the sound of that.” The dragon stood in silence, thinking. I wasn’t quite sure how to
cviii answer that one. Then, once I’d made my mind up, I spoke. “There was a time when a story made them strive to be all that they could be. The stories seem unimportant now and many have been forgotten in the rush of the mundane and bright lights of technology and the need to use power and see everything as it is. The simplicity of meaning is lost on them now. From the druid in the grove to the child in the stable it was a pure and strong magic message. They already have everything they need if they are content with what they have. While they want so much more they will always fight and feel that they need something they do not have. That in itself brings anger and a need to look at those they think have what they want or need.” I couldn’t help but feel sad as I spoke those words. Imparting the message meant putting it into words. A single tear rolled down over my scales and fell to the ground where it exploded in a myriad of sparkling lights.
Widget shook her head. “What can be done?” The dragon smiled. “I am the Weaver of Dreams and dreams must return. When mankind dreams they are the strongest and best of all creatures. What they need are dreams and aspirations without greed and gluttony. They need simple dreams of holding their newborn baby in their arms, in seeing a smile on a grandmother’s face.”
Widget smiled. “Can you do that?” The dragon looked down. “For those with the imagination to listen, yes I can. For those with closed minds there is little hope. They are trapped by their greed and their need for violence. One day perhaps. But for now those who look will find the magic of the glade, the infinite majesty of the stars and the joy in the golden sun.
But, you would speak of Goblians. There is no quick answer when dealing with them. I’m sorry, there is no secret weapon. I will not and cannot wipe them out as that would be an act that would bring such desolation that you cannot imagine. They are not a natural creation in your world, they are a creation of man’s greed and unkind attitude which has spilled over into your home world.
Every time someone gets angry another Goblian is born. Every time someone is selfish or unkind to another, another Goblian is born. They spring forth fully formed, they are not born as children. Every ill word, every spiteful comment, every act of anger and ill will brings them forth.
In balance every good word, every good act, every kind thought, every selfless act for someone else will call forth a Frixian once the gateway is open and they can pass through. As you know they aren’t queueing up to come back. They will receive the call, it is then up to them if they answer it. Unlike Goblians you Frixians can’t be born here but you can travel here. So my child, there is little we can do other than give them dreams. That I will do now that I am back.
We can’t stop bad things happening to them but we can give them hope. Out of every bad thing good things can come. It may not seem much but even if it is just support for each other and simple, selfless acts of kindness for a stranger who has suffered from a Goblian attack.
The world has become selfish. Good people have become insular when they could reach out and be happy with others because of the actions of others. They do have a choice, we have to show them that choice. They can be victims, victimize others or grow strong from what has happened to them.
You have the crystals and you can power the Tavern again. Go, have adventures and bring back such stories that will give people a world beyond the mundane. Feed their dreams. That is the power of the writer. Writers are my children, my people. My love goes out to them. Without them and those who make films and radio shows there would be no hope.
However dark this world gets I hope that they will keep writing about good things and giving people hope. I hope they will keep writing stories that show that people can be strong and support each other. A man alone is a just a man. A man with friends stands like iron and can never be defeated while he is loved. For if he falls others will take up his flag.
Go and open that portal. Allow the Frixians who want to access to
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your world. I have taken down the veil. All you need to do now is get the key and open the lock.”
Widget looked confused. “Where is the key?” The dragon smiled. “The key is the love of a mother who stood by her daughter through anything and everything. She is gone from this world but her love lives on. She believed in magic and fantasy and most of all she believed in her daughter. She has touched the key.
Her daughter’s hand on that key gives it the magic so that it will open the gateway. It is as simple and as complicated as that. She can’t put flowers on her mother’s grave as it is too far away and her father’s ashes are at sea but she has no less love. All three have and will touch that key. Let her do this as a memorial to her mother and her mother’s belief. Her love for her mother is stronger magic than any other. It will complete the magic and open the portal. If her mother hadn’t believed in her she would not have written. If she had not written she would not have had the power to bring you and Gadget into those puppet bodies. So everything is linked.
It is Christmas. It is the time of goodwill to all men. The power of that is still strong. The garden where the gateway is situated was a healing garden and many hundreds of people sent healing there to the healing circle when it was first created. Much has happened since then but it is already charged up and that magic has lasted. It is all done. You will know what to do.
Now go, your time here is done.” Widget breathed in and when she breathed out again she was back in the Tardis and it was grinding its startup sound. The controls were set for the return so all she could do was wait.
Just one more stop before returning it to the Exhibition. As the Tardis spun through time and space Widget wrote a note: The words are here but I do not know What to do or where you should go We need the key to open the gate But it isn’t easy, not on a plate. So please discover what you should do And carry it out, to your heart be true So we will hope it will all work out I have faith in you without a doubt.
The Tardis landed and Widget opened the door and put the note on top of the newly built new control box for the Tavern. Gadget had been busy, it was complete, all it needed was the crystals. With a silent smile she went back to the Tardis and shut the door.
I got back to my body just as the group entered the Exhibition.
Angel felt her arrive back. In her head she heard. “I’m back.” “Well, how did it go?” She thought. “Very well thank you. I’m going to enjoy this now but I’m not going to write about it. It is a magic that those visiting have to experience for themselves. I don’t want to spoil it with spoilers.”
They walked around the exhibition and took a look at all the costumes and props that were set out beautifully so that they could be seen and looked around. The place was like a warehouse, vaulted and copiously large. It was a bit too large as it was worryingly chilly. Not spookily chilly, just lacking heat. This was a little unpleasant but then if there had been more people perhaps it would have been warmer. It was surprisingly empty but it was easier to go and see the exhibits. It would have been more amusing to see people pretending to be Cybermen but it was still a really lovely Exhibition. For me it was better as there were only people there who knew I was Frixian so it was blissful to be able to move for myself even though it looked as though Angel was manipulating me.
I whispered to Angel. “You were here before, has it changed?”
cxii Angel smiled. “Yes, it has. I think that the bit before the set out exhibition is a bit shorter but it is still good. This Exhibition has changed as they have brought in the new monsters from Mr Capaldi’s Doctor’s series. I wish there was a waxwork of him though. They had one of the last Doctor, I liked that. Then a lot is out with their new project or so I heard our guide say.”
“What is that?”
“Well you know there
is music with every episode and for different characters and monsters?”
“Yes” “Well it is a music extravaganza.”
“Wow, that sounds good. Can we go?” “Sorry little one, it is too expensive. We have goat mouths that need to be fed. I doubt I’ll leave them alone again. I miss them.” A young woman and a young man who were guiding people around the Exhibition came over to say hello to me. As I was being looked at I was a puppet again and let Angel do the talking for us. She told them that I had borrowed the Tardis as she was worried they might wonder how it had got so many more miles on the clock. She had intended to keep it quiet as hopefully they would never know. But if they did checks they might just notice. I hadn’t stolen it. I know that stealing means taking something with the intention of permanently depriving someone of something. I had merely borrowed it and I decided at that moment that I would write a thank you note to The Doctor.
I had been doing a good thing and they understood. They too said it would have been great if The Doctor could have helped. He is a busy man and he has so many worlds to save but he may have helped if he could. I had left one of the crystals there on the console for him as a thank you though.