Awakening
Page 36
*
Darkness, then light, then nothing. I find myself in a strange place: a hall filled with crystal spires and hanging mirrors. Overhead, the orb filled void has taken the place of the ceiling. Ahead, I spy a throne made of transparent crystal, seemingly hewn from a massive diamond. Seated on the glimmering throne is Alza, fast asleep judging by her sealed eyes and her slow breathing. I glide closer, curious as to why anyone would sleep during such a peculiar dream.
I chide myself for such a logical thought. This is obviously not the real Alza, who is currently fast asleep in the real world. She must be a projection of my subconscious, trying to meld memory and desire.
However, despite this knowledge, she feels more real than anything else in this dream. If I could reach out and touch her cheek, I somehow know that it would be warm. If she woke up and spoke, her words would not be those of a mental puppet, but of the true Alza. What then should I do? Should I attempt to wake her, and risk her wrath? Or should I follow her example, and let sleep, and reality, take me?
“What are you doing here?”
The voice catches me off guard, but I manage to recover from my shock in mere seconds. It was stupid of me to presume that she was fully asleep, without even checking. Still seated on the throne, the only difference between now and then is that her violet eyes are open, and are watching me with a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.
“Um… I’m having a dream, what about you?” It is the strangest sentence I’ve ever uttered, but Alza does not show any reaction to the nonsensical words.
“I am resting my mind as my body recovers its energy. I suppose that it is similar to your… dreaming.”
Alza stands at last, stepping down from the throne as if it was something she had been doing for years. In the timeless space of the dreamscape, perhaps she has been.
“You should not be here,” she says, drawing closer. Only now can I see the tell-tale tracks left by a recent torrent of tears. Strangely, the residue is crimson in colouration, and looks suspiciously like dried blood. Still, this is a dream, and the world of logic has no place here.
“Why? Why shouldn’t I be here?”
“You have no understanding of what you have done. Like a child who has just learned to run, you leap ahead without looking at where you will land. You have been wrought free from the prison called Mind, and yet you do not even see that you were imprisoned to begin with. It is still too soon for you to wander around the dreamscape unaided. Return now, to where it is safe…
Alza raises a hand, and the dream begins to dissolve. The crystal spires melt under an unseen inferno, as the unsupported mirrors quickly revert to streams of cooling sand. She is forcing me out of the dream, that much I understand, but with that knowledge comes the understanding that there is nothing I can do to stop her. For now, I am powerless to resist… but perhaps, in the future, things will go differently…
Only the void is left, as the multi-coloured spheres slowly fade away into the darkness. I cannot move towards them, any more than I can move my head. I can do nothing but wait, in the comforting embrace of the void, until this strange dream comes to a close.