Dreamweavers: Awakening

by P J G Robbins

rest, spitting sand from his mouth. Tristram! The same name Daisy had mentioned. Questions were forming in Ryan’s mind far quicker than they were being answered. He looked up just as the two bat-like creatures swept over him in pursuit of the winged man, who was now little more than a speck over the vast ocean.

  What would they do when they caught him? Did Ryan care? Nothing in this messed up place seemed to make any sense. He staggered to his feet, momentarily at a loss as to what to do. He stared at his hands and marvelled at the way the metal parts slid over one another as he flexed his fingers. It was certainly pretty sweet to be a robot. Yet he did not know whom to trust and whom to fear. Damocles had seemed perfectly reasonable at the time, just as Tristram now did.

  He raised his head and saw the two dark shapes bank sharply and begin streaking along the beach towards him. In that moment his mind was made up. Whether Damocles or Tristram, or both even, had been telling the truth, he knew for certain that those bat-like beasts were not his allies. Without further deliberation he sprinted towards the pounding surf.

  Like a pair of strike aircraft in close formation, the two creatures swept towards him. As Ryan chanced a look over his shoulder he saw them closing in, barely six feet above the ground. Where was Tristram? They would be on him in seconds and Ryan was still some distance from the water. He put his head down and ran like he had never run before.

  Ryan was surprised by the turn of pace he was putting in and how easy he was finding it. He felt like he could sprint forever, which was something he’d never been able to say in his life. It wasn’t enough though, for behind him the two creatures were almost within reach. He glanced over his shoulder and all he saw was two pairs of piercing, sickly blue eyes boring into him. Horrified, he put his head down and kept running.

  Suddenly the silhouette of Tristram burst majestically from the waters ahead. For a moment his dark shape hung in the air, his great feathery wings spread wide across the night sky. Then he swept towards them with impossible speed, skimming Ryan’s head by mere centimetres and barrelling into the two creatures with a sickening crunch. A moment later Ryan reached the surf and dived into the foaming water.

  Almost immediately his head broke the surface and he emerged into brilliant sunlight, as a wave of purest blue bore him to shore. Bewildered and disorientated, he staggered out of the water and onto the golden sands beyond. Ahead of him rose the desolate flanks of a volcanic island, seemingly devoid of life. It was a stark contrast to the lush jungle he had just come from. He looked back at the glistening waters from which he had just been ejected and wondered whether he had done the right thing. He was about to take a step back into the surf when he heard a voice behind him calling out.

  ‘Ryan! Ryan! Oh my gosh, you made it!’

  He spun round, startled, and wondered how many other people in this crazy place knew his name. For a moment he was at a loss to see where the voice had come from, then he caught sight of a figure running down the beach and he recognised the unusual gait immediately. It was Daisy.

  Ryan was speechless. This was fast becoming the most bizarre dream he’d ever had, but he couldn’t help cracking a smile of relief on seeing his friend running towards him. Yet even as she reached him and flung her arms around his neck in delight, she didn’t exactly seem to be all there. Of course, most of their classmates would have pointed out that Daisy Rose was never ‘all there’, but this was different. Suddenly it became clear to him.

  ‘Jesus Dizz, I can see through you!’ he exclaimed.

  ‘I know, isn’t it great?’ she cried, taking a step back and giving a twirl. ‘This is who I am on the inside; who I’d be if I was given the choice. I’m a spirit, an elemental; at one with nature. Don’t I look great?’

  ‘Err… I guess,’ said Ryan, scratching his tin scalp.

  ‘And look at you; a robot!’ Daisy continued, unable to contain her delight. ‘Typical for a boy to become one of those, but it’s definitely you in there.’

  She rapped her translucent knuckles soundlessly on his metal chest. Ryan hadn’t realised that he had retained the form he’d taken on in the other world, but he was past being surprised.

  ‘It’s nice to see a familiar face,’ he said, looking round at the wide stretch of sand that disappeared into the distance in both directions. ‘I’ve just had the freakiest experience ever. What is this place?’

  ‘It’s the Dream Isle. You know, just like I told you? With all the rivers and the mountain and the Spire at the very top?’

  Ryan frowned.

  ‘Then where the hell was I just now?’

  Daisy’s face darkened for a moment.

  ‘I don’t know Ryan. Where were you?’

  ‘Somewhere altogether less pleasant,’ came a voice from the direction of the sea. Ryan, who was getting rather used to people sneaking up on him from nowhere, was glad that he recognised it.

  ‘Tristram!’ cried Daisy, and she practically ran through Ryan on her way to embrace the figure emerging from the water.

  ‘Oh my gosh, are you okay?’ she exclaimed, upon seeing the streaks of blood lining his torso.

  ‘Yeah I’m fine,’ said Tristram, returning her hug and simultaneously shaking the beaded droplets of water from his wings. ‘You should see the other two.’

  ‘What other two?’

  ‘Just a couple of old friends I was getting reacquainted with. Hey Ryan, nice work getting here. I’ve never seen anyone run like that before, and I can't think of many people who would have trusted someone like me after only a few minutes.’

  ‘Well, it was either you or those... things,’ said Ryan, sitting down on the sand. ‘And I’m still not sure whether I do trust you. If Dizz wasn’t here I wouldn’t know if I was better or worse off right now.’

  ‘Oh don’t be such a grump Ryan,’ said Daisy, coming back over and sitting down next to him. ‘I’m sure it wasn’t easy for Tristram to get you here, so I think you should be grateful.’

  ‘I’m just confused,’ said Ryan, putting his head in his hands. ‘I mean, just look at this place. Am I supposed to be glad to be here? Okay, so the beach is all right, but the rest of it?’

  ‘I know it may seem bleak, but trust me; there’s more life flowing through this land than you can possibly imagine,’ said Tristram.

  He sat down in front of the two of them, his wings spread slightly so that they could rest comfortably on the sand. To Ryan, such a thing seemed perfectly normal now.

  ‘This will take a little explanation,’ said Tristram, reaching forwards and smoothing the sand between them with his hands. ‘Daisy knows some of this already, but there is still a great deal that remains a mystery. Am I right?’

  Daisy beamed and nodded.

  ‘As I thought. Your first question, Ryan, I imagine is; ‘Am I dreaming?’ Well, yes you are, in that outwardly your body has the appearance of being asleep, while an artificial reality plays out in your mind. The difference being that this place – all that you see around you – exists on a permanent basis. It is what is called an advanced perpetual dreamscape, although that’s just meaningless jargon. I prefer to think of it as a giant video store or online waiting room, where the films or games that you would call your dreams exist and play out. All you’ve got to do is select the one you want and off you go. Do you follow me?’

  Ryan nodded his head slowly, although had it not been for the computer game analogy he would have been utterly lost.

  ‘Every dream you’ve ever had originated in this place. This is where all the stories weave their magic, as they work their way from their source up at the top of the mountain to the sea behind me. From the simplest, most humble dream, such as someone happily digging their garden, to another person’s ultimate fantasy of international stardom, through every twisted alternate reality in between; they’re all here.’

  Ryan stared into the middle-distance with a vague frown on his metallic face.

  ‘That bull-man said something similar about the place we’ve just come from. Is that par
t of here as well?’

  ‘Yes and no. I said ‘they’re all here’, but that is not entirely accurate. You see, for every good, uplifting dream, there must be a bad, unsettling one. It’s simple cause and effect really. Without evil there would be nothing to measure good against. Without despair, no hope. Therefore, for every wholesome dream there is a corresponding nightmare. But you will find no nightmares on the Dream Isle. They are confined to the realm that exists beneath us; the flip side of the coin, if you will.’

  He began tracing the outline of a mountain in the sand with his finger.

  ‘All your ‘good’ dreams start here,’ he pointed to the mountain top. ‘They flow down its side in great rivers, until eventually they run their course and flow out into the vast sea of broken dreams.’

  As he said this, he traced a line down the slope to the bottom.

  ‘Now, if you turn the image upside down what do you have?’

  Ryan and Daisy both tilted their heads to one side.

  ‘A crater?’ suggested Daisy.

  ‘Exactly!’ exclaimed Tristram. ‘It’s like a huge jelly-mould. If you turn it upside down you get the Nightmare Realm, where Ryan and I just came from.’

  ‘So, this sea; it exists in both places?’ said Ryan slowly, his mind working overtime.

  ‘Got it in one,’ smiled Tristram. ‘It is the link between them. As the old dreams sink they are slowly infused through some mechanism that