Novels

Dreamscape

by Max Parent

Chapter one

Cold. A bone-chilling cold wind. I could feel it; brushing against my skin. Seeping into my flesh. And tickling my very bones. A pleasant chill that pricked my senses and gave me a serene sense of clarity. A sense of achievement. With some hesitance, I opened my eyes, and my constructed landscape bloomed into focus around me.

The snow capped mountains spoke to me in sharp whistles as the cold wind blew over their rocky cold surfaces. A type of language that I could not decipher. I don’t understand it, but it’s quite lovely nonetheless.

With that thought I looked back over my surroundings. On the top of the greatest peak of the mountain range, I sat cross legged. I could actually see myself, through a third person view. As if my soul retracted from my body, and is just hovering over it. My checkered pajama bottoms and worn out blue sleep shirt did not blow with the crisp cool wind. Yet I could still feel the sensation of wind pulling at them, and ruffling my short orange hair. Strange is the feeling of being able to feel that feeling of the wind, yet not seeing the action of my clothes being ruffled take place.

I pondered on the thought of standing up, but continued to think about the outcome. Would everything hold together. Or would the mountains and sky collapse. Everything is still so fragile. I can simply feel it in the surrounding air. But I can’t find out if I just stay sitting down.

Cohen, dressed in his pajamas, began to stand up on the cold barren mountain top. He calmly got up, and slowed his movements down. Each move of his arm was slowed, along with his legs, down to the speed at which he was breathing. Every movement became cautious and thought out. With hesitance, he lifted his leg, and brought it down in front of him in a step. He held his breath for a moment. Then a sharp ear splitting crack shook the air! Where he set his foot down, a mighty crack appeared in the stone. It grew and then lengthened, splitting into smaller cracks as it raced down the mountain.

Cohen looked around him in frustrated fear at his crumbling surroundings. The mountains around him crumbled down and away, as if they were made out of sand instead of stone. The misty and billowing clouds whipped around like a tornado, and formed together before completely disappearing without a trace of existence. Then came the sky.

Cohen looked up above him as the sky shattered to pieces like a broken window. The blue shards began to rain down around him, leaving complete blackness to replace what was once blue. As the last shard of blue fell from what used to be the sky, the mountain top that Cohen was standing on dissolved away into nothing, leaving behind eternal blackness. Completely surrounded by darkness, he pushed off of an invisible surface, and began to float. He crossed his legs as if he were sitting down, and shook his head.

“How stupid of me. I knew that it was too weak. I could feel it yet I didn't listen to my gut, or grow it anymore. That’s what I should have done. I should have concentrated on the base structure first. Next time, next time.”

With that said, Cohen ceased moving, and just floated in the darkness. He closed his eyes and opened his mind, letting his creativity flood into the inky blackness.

With his mind open, black turned to ghostly white, then into blue sky. Below, ground began to form and spread outward. From the ground burst mountains, growing upwards as if they were trying to touch the sky. Natures natural skyscrapers, made out of stone instead of steel, concrete, and glass; mountains were always a joyous challenge to attempt to create in the dreamspace.

All was going well. All that was left was to form misty clouds. But then, from out of the dim, came a sharp sound. A jingly kind of ringing sound that completely filled the silence. It started off quiet, but then started to increase in volume. Cohen looked around him in irritation, with a scowl plastered on his face.

With the sharp sound, his focus began to wane, and eventually crumble. With the crumble of his focus, his surroundings too crumbled around him once again even quicker than before, disappearing in an enormous puff of smoke, leaving Cohen once again, in blackness. A deep blackness that seemed to swallow up all possible light.

The ringing had become almost unbearable. Echoing throughout his space and slowly making him angry.

“Come on!” Cohen wailed. He didn’t think he had been that long. It must have only been a couple of minutes. But he knew what the sound meant, and was reluctant to give into it. But he knew that he had to.

With surprising calm, Cohen laid out in the blackness, floating around gently, motionlessly. He took a deep breath, and cleared his mind. He looked around the void for any scrap of his creation, but found nothing. So with a look of calm, he closed his eyes, and vanished into the blackness.

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The Nirvelli

by Anastasia Koulikovskaia

The Earth was new.

Like drop of crystal dew shining in the sunlight, the world was pure, young and innocent. Anywhere one’s eye would roam, there reigned peace and tranquility. Grown by the Unity of Spirits, our realm prospered. The Unity was strong, and the bond between the Spirits grew: Water cleaned the vitality, Air breathed out energy, Fire upkept equilibrium, and Earth tended all life.

The inhabitants of our realm thrived in harmony with all creation. The diversity in population kind was vast - animals lived alongside fish; humans lived together with faes, sprites, nymphs, mermaids, gnomes, trolls and other folk. This was a time before time, when humans were wise. They were not in quest of materialistic and acquisitive customs, nor cosmetic connections. In those days, humans bonded their souls with the spirit of nature, spoke with animals and supported enchanting creatures. This was the time when people knew their true essence.

Before long, however, the Mother Nature Eliawë, the Creator of All, foretold of a great tragedy. The prophecy avowed that soon, the human inhabitants of our realm would forget the true purpose of life, and would destroy their once known paradise in seeking of superficial success. They would lose all connection with their source of life, the energy and the Unity of Spirits - the humans’ link would eventually disappear, and their kind would fade from existence. In will to preserve the connection, the Unity of Spirits had decided to establish a guide for humanity, with hope that not all of its kind would fall into the endless pattern of materialism. It was named The Scroll of Timeless Wisdom. This scroll would carry a single poem, proclaiming the meaning of life. This scroll could be understood by only those who were born to understand - those who have not entirely lost their link, those who have not given into the superficial race to success. Those would be the saviours of their kind.

Throughout the years of timeless measure, the prophecy came true. The foolish kind steered away from the connection in search of civilization , technological prosperity and superficial success. The humans crowned themselves, coercing the remaining inhabitants to obey and serve them as rulers. With the aid of threats, brutality and harm, humans destroyed the harmony of the Earth in order to feel powerful and ruling. The magic nation of sprites, nymphs, faes, gnomes and other creatures was forced to flee the Earth and hide in a different realm and dimension. Even with the constant suffering, the animals stayed on Earth with the humans in hope of a change of heart and mind. However, years came and went, and humanity invented devices and services to help them in their materialistic everyday life. Instead of sharing, people bought. Instead of helping, people fought. Instead of nurturing, people destroyed. People chose rulers. The rulers bathed in gold, while the downtrodden died of starvation. People invented an image of appearance and strived for it, not reflecting upon whether it hurt them. People invented rights - while some are allowed to control, others cannot speak freely. The years went by, and humanity grew in the eyes of humans. In reality, the mankind floundered in their own mess, confused and lost.

And as the prophecy foretold, there were the chosen ones, the sole ones who could save the race. They would be called the Nirvelli.

1.

I knew it before the world tried to make me forget.

I knew it before I took my first breath. I knew it before I first opened my eyes, I knew it before they could make me believe otherwise. It is like knowing you are breathing, like knowing you are alive. I knew this was not the world I belonged in. I am not like them. I may look like them, I may be forced to live like them, I may be raised by them and taught to act the way they do. But I am not them. I do not think the way they do, nor do I wish to.

I believe they just don’t see the simplest things… although, how could they? They never pay attention. They are always scuttling about, rushing somewhere pointless. Their thoughts are so shallow and empty, predominantly concerning themselves. I have met a few generous individuals who were kind and thoughtful enough, but when it came to the question “me or them”, you might pretell the answer they chose. I have also perceived that they tend to obey like lifeless creatures - bowing down to those who possess the most riches and power. Though how did those attain all of those possessions? Either they lied to and stole from enough people, or were “lucky” enough to be born in a family line who lied to and stole from enough people. My mind tingles with memories of my mother’s morning speech: “This is the sixteenth century, after all! Does that not say anything to you? Our society is developing fairly, and standards are set for those living in it. I can not even speak about the times you stoop so low - as to help peasants work! I understand that we are not the richest family in the village, but we are not peasants! The Honourable King Bors has arranged ranks and classes for the folk, and you should follow them.” The thought makes me laugh. But not a happy laugh, where your stomach tingles, your eyes crinkle at the corners, your toes curl with happiness and a sound of rejoicement escapes you. I laughed a half-hearted laugh at the ridicule of it all, which sounds mainly like air departing your lungs. Has anyone ever thought that maybe the King’s settlements could be wrong, or unjust? Has it ever occurred to anyone that perhaps the King’s opinion of the ‘correct’ world is corrupt? “Naia, you are sixteen years old! Ladies your age have long ago married, are now raising children and bedighting the house. And you, Naia, look at you! Your feet are soiled, your hair is matted, and your dress - could I even call that a dress anymore? A woman without a husband is like a man without gold!” What a senseless analogy. I love how in this world, no one cares about anything that matters. Happiness in gold? Obligatory marriage? Required appearance? Mandatory obedience? Is that what people are born to live up to? Although, what really matters? Justice? Righteousness? Freedom? Happiness?

My feet touch soil. I spread my toes and welcome the warmth. Caught in thought, I hadn’t noticed that I wandered into the forest. It is one of my universes. My home. At first glance, most will not see anything; will not hear anything; will not pay attention to the smells; will not bother to turn to touch. They never pay attention. I see something move, and quickly turn - it is my shadow. What a strange creation: it is there when the day is happy and the sun is shining... but as the clouds come out, it hides. It reminds me of most people I know. Between the leaves, sunlight squeezes through and caresses everything it touches. A ladybug lands on my bare arm and freezes, enjoying the geniality of the day. A tickle on my back detects a gentle breeze whistling at my coffee-colours curls.

My dress sweeps at my calves, and I hear a woodpecker tending a tree. Lying down on the softest of grass, my soul flees. Familiar sounds surround me. A branch cracks. My eyes fly open, only to be greeted by a solitary deer. We each hold our gaze. A bird lands on one of his horns, and begins to sing. The deer looks at me a moment longer, and then roams away into the foliage, carrying the singing bird. I envy him and the bird. Their bond. Their peace. Their freedom. One day I will be like him. I will discover my bond, I will find my peace and I will roam to my freedom. I will try to speak with the world, and I will set it free to roam in peace and bond. This society seems like a horrible, realistic nightmare. I feel like somewhere, there is a distant world that flourishes and is the definition of paradise. I cover my face with my hands... how I wish to wake up from this dreadful dream. I -

“Ungrateful child! Why, oh, why are you always in this wretched forest, even when I forbid you to go? Good Lord, Naia, I have seen you speak with animals, those beasts! Will I ever have the fate to call you a proper young woman? Come now, we will bring you to a matchmaker. It is time you learned the appropriate manner a young lady should behave. And if you dare disobey me again, you best fear the consequences.”

And so, the nightmare continues.

2.

My mother has outdone herself, scrubbing my body, forcing me into a frilly dress, brushing my curls and applying berry juice on my lips. Throughout all of the procedures, she made sure to provide me with all the information I would need to be a spectacular bride. I, however, was dreaming of a better world. We are now walking fast towards the matchmaker’s edifice, and I am dreading the moment we arrive.

“Now remember Naia, carry yourself proudly, but stay humble. Never speak unless you are spoken to, do not express your opinions unless you are asked for them, and where you are asked, your opinion should reflect the one of your interlocutor. Here, child, take this fan. Do you understand how much I have spent on it? Do not disappoint me! I expect you to come out of that building as a splendid bride.”

I discretely roll my eyes, but do not say anything. Instead, I observe the villagers as we walk. One is desperately trying to sell a pig. Poor creature. Another is begging in the shade of a house. A man sits on a bench under a tree, with several girls on his lap. They giggle as he shows them his muscled arms. Ugh. My attention is drawn by a loud yell. I see one of King Bor’s guards pushing a penurious elderly man to the ground. He lifts his arm and cracks a whip in the air. The older man draws back in fear as the guard yells something I cannot understand. Before I know it, my legs carry me fast to the senior. I stand before him, blocking him from the guard.

“Stop!” As soon as those words leave my mouth, it is as if the whole village was silenced.

Everyone halts their actions, and turns to look. All eyes are on me. Out of the corner of my eye, I

see my mother lift her hands to cover her mouth. Her eyes are unforgiving.

“Imbecile wench! Leave my sight before the law takes care of you,” the guard barks. I raise my chin and stand my ground.

“Why are you abusing this powerless man? He could not have done anything to deserve such treatment. Or are you you doing this for mere pleasure?” The guard scowls and takes a step towards me. Then shamelessly looking me up and down, he smirks.

“I am simply doing my job, gorgeous. This man is a farmer, he cultivates food for the King. And now, he stole a kilogram of vegetables to feed his wretched family. Old, greedy fool sacrificed the King’s meal in order to feed himself. I speak of justice. ”

“How is this justice? You can obviously see that this man is poor and starving! A few vegetables would not cost the King a penny! But for this man it could be a matter of life or death! And you! Obeying the King like a cowardly moron! you speak of justice? Ha!”

“Why, you damned...” All of a sudden, someone grabs me by the elbow.

“I apologize dearly, sir. This will never occur again. All hail the King,” my mother rushes, and drags me out of the square. When we turn the corner, she slams me into the wall.

“You ignorant, idiotic child! After everything I have done for you! This is how you repay me? You will get inside the wretched house immediately, and will not come out once! From now on you are forbidden step outside. Ever. You will marry the first decent man I meet today, and you will live a stable life with him, raising children.” My mind is in a haze from everything that had happened. What is wrong with this corrupt village? Is the whole world this way? I know one thing though: I need to change the world’s ways - but I cannot do that within the walls of my house.

“ I love you, mother.” I whisper, squeeze her hands and take off towards the port. I hear her scream my name behind me, but I know she will not run behind me. It is unladylike.

Illustrated version of the Nirvelli by Althea M.