Willow Bloom and the Dream Keepers

by E. V. Farrell

  Shadowy figures loomed close behind her. Lost and scared, she found herself running, desperate to get away from something … With every lunge forward, her body ached from cold and exhaustion – she didn’t know how much longer she could go on. And there seemed to be no end to the foul, dingy tunnel she had found herself in. Then, in the blackness that swallowed everything but the faintest outlines, Willow heard a gut-wrenching sound echo all around her. She turned by reflex – and gasped. Grotesque creatures were climbing the sides of the tunnel, their long talons clawing at the stone walls. She raised her hands to her ears to dampen the sound. Run! she told herself. You can’t give up – run! In the distance, a faint light suddenly appeared. Willow narrowed her eyes. What was it? Could it be a way out? She pushed through the pain and ran faster still. But the more she ran, the more she realised the light wasn’t getting any closer. The scraping on the tunnel walls was growing louder. Willow looked over her shoulder. The unsightly beasts were nearer now and she could see their sickly yellow eyes glaring down upon her. “Ple-ease someone – anyone – help!” she screamed out. Instantly, the light that had been so far away was right up close, almost blinding. She stopped abruptly, breathless. The dark creatures closed in, pausing silently, like leopards waiting for a moment before pouncing on their prey. She stood there, frozen, caught between the terrifying creatures and the dazzling light. Was the light a way out? Was it safe? Where would it take her? There was no time left to think. Anything had to be better than where she was. She squeezed her eyes shut and leaped into the bright light … “Aagh!” Willow sat up in bed, her breathing fast and erratic. She hadn’t had a nightmare this vivid in ages. She looked around the hotel room, unsettled by its unfamiliar shapes and shadows. Lying back down, she tried focusing on happy and comforting thoughts – puppies and kittens were usually the winners, but this time images of Peonie and the Wood Folk came to the fore. At the same time, she deliberately slowed down the rise and fall of her chest and listened to the sound of her breathing. Eventually, her heartbeat slowed and her body softened. Her parents had taught her this technique when she was very young. It worked most of the time. Willow plumped her pillow and closed her eyes.

  Willow heard the curtains being drawn back; sunlight instantly flooded the room. “Time to get up, Willow,” her mother said.

  Willow rolled over, pulling the pillow over her head. “It can’t be morning already?” she groaned.

  “Afraid so.” Her mother sat on the bed beside her. “It’s a big day. I know I’d be nervous in your shoes, but you’re far more capable than I ever was at your age. I’m just sorry I can’t offer you any words of wisdom as a Light Keeper.”

  Willow dragged the pillow off her head and sat up, looking at her mother with bleary eyes. Audrey didn’t look like she’d had much sleep either. Willow took her mother’s hand. “Thanks, Mum. It means a lot to me to hear you say that.”

  Audrey embraced her daughter. “Oh, Willow. I am in awe of how well you are handling all of this.”

  Willow sat quietly on her own in the minibus. This was the day she had anticipated over and over again – the people she would meet, the training she would have, the mistakes she might make – like, what if she used the wrong incantation and something bad happened? She might break a portal or even make someone disappear! Or what if she accidentally added an extra word to one of the spells and it made someone grow a huge nose or an extra thumb! Or worse!

  By the time they had parked and walked across the square to the entrance of the main building her mind had already worked her body into a tight knot. She had gone over the day at least a dozen times, with as many disasters. And the crazy thing was that none of it was real – they were all just made up stories in her head! She really needed to do more breathing exercises – it was the only thing that she knew of to help quiet her mind.

  The large doors at the entrance were already opened. Above the doors was a stone plaque inscribed with the words: Acadius Luvatra ud Fedeo Amargon.

  “Roughly translated, it means ‘The Academy of the Light Protectors’,” Hugo informed her. “It’s the name of our school. We call it ALFA for short.”

  “That’s cool.” She stepped inside. The reception area was fairly quiet, with only a handful of people moving about. She had guessed they were early from the small number of cars in the carpark.

  Footsteps approached from the wide corridor on her left. Willow turned in their direction and saw a man in a navy cape limping towards them, his tall frame casting intermittent shadows on the stone floor as he passed a row of enormous windows. His grey hair and soft features reminded her of a treasured grandparent.

  “He’s the Prime Councillor of the Academy,” Hugo whispered to her. “A bit like that Mrs Guthrie but so-o-o not.”

  Willow conjured up an image of Mrs Guthrie standing next to this dignified, wise-looking man who knew magic. “You got that right.”

  “Welcome, welcome,” the Councillor said. Swishing his blue cloak to the side to bring out his hand, he turned towards Hugo first. “Good to see you again, young man. A bit sooner than expected, I have to say.”

  “Hello, sir,” Hugo responded.

  “You must be Willow. Councillor Arwen Mullarkey. I’ve been hearing quite a bit about you.”

  Willow blushed. “Hope it was all good.”

  “I have it on good authority that you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t capable. Now, I have organised for your training to begin shortly. Under the circumstances, all of our new initiates and their Helpers have been assigned their own teachers for some of the sessions – we need to cover as much ground as possible in the short time we have.” Councillor Mullarkey glanced at Willow’s parents. “Your parents will be busy with their own tasks.”

  Willow and Hugo climbed the stairs to the second level of the building for their first training lesson. “So what happened to Councillor Mullarkey?” she asked.

  “You mean his limp? That was a run-in with someone in the Dark Arts – years ago. Had to do with his family bloodline. A cousin crossed over to the other side, or something like that, and he tried to get her back.”

  “Did he?”

  “No.”

  “Whoa. Pretty dark family secret.”

  “It’s no secret. Everyone knows. He told us as a warning in a class. But yeah, must be tough.”

  At the top of the stairs they turned right. Willow glanced at several artworks on the walls. Each painting used a technique of dots and spirals to create images from the Light Keepers’ world, and in each case the effect was mysterious, as if something was hidden, and would only come to the forefront after looking at it carefully.

  Willow stopped in front of a painting depicting the Sanctuary. “Huh! I almost missed this one of Peonie standing amongst the trees,” she said. “I spotted her easily in the others.”

  Hugo raised his brows. “You found her in all of them?”

  “Can’t you?”

  Hugo shook his head. “We actually have lessons on how to paint like this, and then we’re taught how to find Peonie in the paintings – the ones you didn’t paint, obviously. You’re the first person that I know of who has never painted one of these or even seen one, and can just casually walk by and find Peonie in every one.”

  “Really?” She turned and continued on along the corridor. “Don’t mention it to anyone. I’d rather keep that between us.”

  “Okay. If you say so.” Hugo stopped in front of an open door. “We’re in here.”

  They stepped inside the training room and the first thing Willow noticed was a rainbow-coloured shimmer that immediately appeared across the walls and disappeared several seconds later. “Was that a security field?”

  “Yep. It comes on intermittently. You’ll get used to it. And that’s Ms Florence over there.” He pointed to the far corner of the room.

  Willow stared at the brightest mop of curly red hair she had ever seen. Ms Florence, draped in a dark green cloak, was standing beside her desk on one leg with one a
rm extended sideways and her other hand holding a book. Strange way to read, thought Willow.

  “She’s a good teacher,” Hugo whispered, “but she can be a bit … hmm … you’ll see.”

  “Come in, come in!” Ms Florence cried in her American accent. She snapped her book shut before placing her leg down and lost her balance. “Oops! Nearly had it.”

  Willow gave Hugo a sideways glance. This lady was a little bit … different.

  Ms Florence made her way across the floor to greet them. “Nice to see you back, Hugo. And you must be Willow.” She extended her hand towards Willow, regarding her through lively blue eyes. “Ms Felicity Florence, at your service.”

  Willow shook the hand of her first ever magic teacher. “Really excited to be here.”

  “Me too! Every day. Let’s get started then.” Ms Florence strode back to her desk. “Nothing like a crisis to keep us on our magic toes.”

  Ms Florence opened the wooden box sitting on her desk and pulled out a TriVrata. “This TriVrata is used for training purposes only,” she said. “Don’t worry, you won’t be activating any portals in here.” She placed the TriVrata carefully into Willow’s hands. “Show me what you know about TriVrata activations. And remember to focus – and then act. Focus – then act. Focus – then act,” she repeated. “That will be your mantra through all of your training practices. I’m sure Hugo heard it hundreds of times while he was here.”

  He nodded. “Err, we only just got our Keeper items in the last few days. We haven’t had a chance to practise anything. And I left ALFA before Activation lessons started.”

  “Yes, of course. Silly me,” Ms Florence said. “Well, we do have our work cut out for us! Hmm, let’s see …” She mumbled to herself for several moments then looked up. “Okay, I have a plan. You’ll just have to keep up. Ready?”

  Willow and Hugo nodded in compliance.

  “Let’s tick some boxes first, shall we? A Light Keeper and Helper must have a partnership built on mutual trust. I assume you have that covered?” she asked, eyeing them both intensely.

  Mutual trust? Willow thought. She had grown up with Hugo … And though she hadn’t seen him for over a year, he’d seemed trustworthy enough during the last few days when they’d been going over the TriGamon together. Plus, he had come to check on her after the Council meeting last night, and she had appreciated that. Was that what Ms Florence meant by mutual trust?

  “Good. Next: both of you know all of your incantations inside out. Right? Super! There must be no experimenting or fooling around with sacred objects and incantations. Got it? Yes? Good again. And what we do here at ALFA can never be spoken of or used outside of your duties. Our world must remain hidden. Is that understood? Awesome. That concludes your theory lessons. The rest will have to wait. A crash, crash course, I agree, but you both need to be prepared in the practical matters far more urgently.”

  Willow was staggered. She stared at Ms Florence, wondering how much more she was going to cut out of their training. Had she just bypassed life-saving Protocols? Or some handy tips that would be really useful when faced with the Vraag? She was sure her parents would freak out if they knew how ‘crash’ this training was. Not that she was going to tell them.

  When Ms Florence asked Willow to release the TriVrata she had almost forgotten that she was even holding it. Willow’s confidence began to falter. She opened her hands and the TriVrata floated off, stopping a good arm’s length away.

  “Can you remember which symbols to tap?” Ms Florence asked.

  Willow nodded.

  “All right. What I want to see is this beautiful thing glowing brightly and ready for action. For that to happen you need to practise the rhythm of your incantations as outlined in the TriGamon. Without that, you don’t get off the ground – literally. Creating a Doorway to leave Earth requires precision. Off you go, then. I’ll be at my desk if you need me.” Ms Florence turned and walked away.

  Willow sighed heavily. She followed Hugo to the middle of the empty training room and the TriVrata glided along beside them.

  Okay. I can do this, she told herself. She pictured the page in the TriGamon that had the first incantation. Beneath every incantation there followed a description of how to pronounce the words. She recited the first incantation in her head a few times, then holding her pendant, she summoned up what she thought was the appropriate tone and rhythm for that incantation.

  “Otvari Man-drata!” she announced.

  Nothing happened – no glow whatsoever.

  “Otvari Man-drata!” she repeated.

  Not even a flicker of light came from the TriVrata.

  “Otvari Man-drata.” Willow scowled at the TriVrata. Why wasn’t it responding? Surely it couldn’t be this difficult! Fat lot of good it was memorising the incantations if she couldn’t make them work!

  “Didn’t think saying a two-word spell would be this hard,” she grumbled.

  “It’s all in the way you say it,” he said. “That’s why we train. It’s another built-in security system.”

  “Try it with a little more gusto, Willow,” Ms Florence instructed from her desk. “And be very sharp and clear with your focus. It has to pick up on a particular signature frequency in your voice. When frustration takes hold, there’s interference with your energy. And then all your clarity is lost.” She waved her hands in a motion like a mini firework going off to demonstrate clarity being obliterated.

  Willow blew out her anti-clarity frustrations and closed her eyes. Focus, then act, she told herself. “Otvari Man-drata,” she decreed. She opened one eye, then the other, and beamed at the dull glow coming from the TriVrata. It lasted for a few short glorious moments. “Did you see that!”

  Ms Florence nodded approvingly from her chair. “Keep going.”

  “Mmm, not bad,” Hugo said.

  “Not bad? Hmph!” Willow shut her eyes again. I’ll give him “not bad”! She summoned up the most “gusto” she had and declared, “Otvari Man-drata!” then opened her eyes. Her teeth clenched tightly. Back to square one.

  “It’s all in the frequency. Arrogance,” Hugo remarked, shaking his head ruefully, “obviously doesn’t work.”

  Willow glared at him, ready to snap, but bit her tongue. She knew he was right – and she hated it. She closed her eyes again. It took quite a few breaths to hush the frustrating thoughts passing through her mind so that she could refocus and centre herself. She tried the incantation again then opened her eyes cautiously to see…. The sides of the TriVrata had fully opened, ready for duties. “I did it! It’s glowing!”

  “Good work, Willow. Carry on,” Ms Florence called out. “It takes practise, practise, practise to be able to ignore the noise of the mind and dig deeper.”

  “Thank you.” And focused breathing was a way to get there.

  “Try the next one,” Ms Florence encouraged.

  Willow watched the shimmer of the security field pass across the walls again. She took in another deep breath. “Edu Manas Xan-atha Validus,” she declared. These words were used to trigger light frequencies from the TriVrata to make repairs to the portal’s external energy field when necessary. There was a faint glow, though brief, she was already sensing what was required to keep it from fading.

  The hands of the clock above Ms Florence’s desk moved to the next hour as Willow continued with the incantations, over and over. Hugo meanwhile sat with Ms Florence, quietly discussing some of the lessons on Helper duties that he hadn’t yet covered. It was his responsibility to get Willow back safely from the Dream Keepers’ world – the pressure was pretty equally shared between a Light Keeper and her Helper.

  When his turn came to practice with the TriVrata it hovered patiently while he tapped the symbols in their specific order – “Simbodin Dra-vartis Exmora Tempa” – and he watched eagerly, certain it would glow the first time – but it didn’t. Nor did it on the second go, or the third.

  Willow looked away, pressing her lips together to contain a nervous giggle. Even tho
ugh she knew he hadn’t covered these classes, it was satisfying watching him get it wrong.

  “Oh, come on,” he muttered. He glanced at Willow. It was obvious that she was enjoying herself. Hugo flexed his fingers a few times and breathed in deeply. “Simbodin Dra-vartis Exmora Tempa.” He held his breath waiting to see if the TriVrata would respond, ending its idle state in preparation for the return of a Light Keeper from the Dream Keepers world. The TriVrata began to glow and its sides, lowered. “Yes!” And punched the air in triumph.

  Willow traced a tick in the air with her finger. “Not bad …”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he said casually.

  “Yes, Hugo! Good job,” Ms Florence enthused. “Try some Sanctuary Spells, too. Willow, come and sit with me while he keeps busy. Oh, and Hugo, make sure you remember to close it down when you’re finished. We can’t have a TriVrata on standby when off duty. That’s a very big no-no.”

  “I won’t,” he said. “Forget, that is.”

  Ms Florence turned to Willow, who was now sitting in the chair opposite her. “I have to say, you’re doing extremely well, Willow. How are you feeling about all of this?”

  Willow didn’t want to go into her feelings; she could barely keep track of them herself with so many things happening so rapidly. Right now she was just focused on doing one thing at a time, and doing it well. “Aah, fine, I guess.” “Stepping into this world and learning to apply the incantations and spells and all of the rules that go with them can be a bit overwhelming for any new Light Keeper. Believe me, I know,” Ms Florence said. “You must tell me if it feels like it’s all too much. Deal?”

  “Deal,” Willow told her, knowing that she would do no such thing. She was here, at the Academy, training to be an active member of the Light Keepers’ Circle, and that meant being able to handle things – even when they were overwhelming. Focus, then act, she told herself.

  “It’s challenging enough to ignore the distractions of the mind in the normal world, let alone when you’re in the Sanctuary and about to travel across several galaxies to another world,” Ms Florence said. “The mind is a master of distraction, remember that. What with its continuous chatter and the film-reel of scenarios it plays out in your head – all drawing your attention away from the moment at hand. But allowing yourself to be distracted is how errors are made, and in our line of work those errors can be very dangerous. The mind is an incredible thing but you must think of it as you would a tool. There is a time to think – and a time not to think. Your mind is not your only resource. It just thinks it is. Do you understand what I’m saying, Willow?”