Dreamweaving
Page 5
Diamondixi grew less responsive to what was immediately around her for now, confident that she would be given the time she needed. Entering the lad's dream, she found him where she had found him before, in the arms of a woman with a mass of dark hair, bright blue eyes, and bare shoulders resplendent with warm, soft brown fur. She was fragrant with milk, and the scent of rosewater. The sound of the sea washed into the room, and when looking out, the water greeted her eyes. The mother sang a quiet song as she nestled the furry little boy-child into his bed, and the gate across the bottom of the door was testament to the fact that the boy was already mobile.
Diamondixi exerted her influence, encouraging the dream. She watched as the nameless mother leaned into the crib, planted a kiss on the boy's brow just where Diamondixi had stroked before entering. Chubby little hands reached for her as she pulled away and walked to the window, peering out first at the horizon as if watching for a boat to come to the natural harbor below.
“How much longer till you're back in port with me, Finnol? You're missing so much,” she sighed, then looked to the ground below. The softness of her eyes turned to a hardness, then she left the room quietly.
Diamondixi prompted as many memories of this mother as she could. Each memory, each dream that she took the lad through, she could see as torn parts of his self gained strength. Great gashes had been left in his spirit, as if things he had done, or been forced to do during his time there had gone so greatly against his nature that it was tearing out his kindness, his sense of right, and the core he was constructed around.
Diamondixi pressed deeper, looking closer at his soul while in the lad's dreams. In the deepest recesses, she discovered a small child, perhaps five, resolutely clutching a pebble, and a small cloth doll. Not so much to her surprise, the boy saw her as well.
“Who and what are you?” Piped the boy, covering his fist with his other hand and holding both close to his heart. His large eyes flashed a dark blue, so dark as to be almost muddy, locking with hers.
“My name ist Diamondixi. I'm a Dreamweaver.”
“You're here why?”
“I wantst to help you getst away and heal. What ist your name, little boy?”
“You talk weird.” He observed, the words dropping with childlike finality. “They call me Justin, but I don't know if that's really my name. They rename some of us. 'Cause of me, maybe.”
“Why wouldst they do that?”
“The Seidhrmenn change some of us and take or taint our souls so there will be more Finmen. Not many Finwomen, and those women here don't like the men. I don't want to be a Finman. I want my mother. I want a proper wife in a few years. I want to stop hunting other children.”
Diamondixi considered his answers. “I, we, canst helpeth thee to get away, if thou wantst.”
“The Seidhrmenn would stop you. They catch us all again, eventually.”
“Mayhaps not where I wouldst take thee. It ist verily some distance from the sea, mayhaps beyond where they mayst travel.”
“Ok. You can try. But I want to go home eventually.”
“Thou wilt.”