Daydreams

  The first thing he always noticed was the sound of the wind shaking the trees.

  It had made him look up that particular afternoon, the first sight he remembered of that fateful trip home. He thought he might even know why the memory stayed with him, as the mind of an eight year-old is easily distracted by strange blue lights hidden in the stark, dappled shadows of a thick forest canopy.

  Dancing sparks, fading in and out, only visible in peripheral vision, but never there when focused on?

  Please. That kind of thing stuck. At least, it had stuck enough to always begin this particular dream.

  He had taken the longer route home from schoolhouse that day, a lilt in his step caused almost exclusively by the pendant now hanging from his neck.

  The see-through gem was entirely enveloped by a small fist, clutched in a possessive deathgrip at his collarbone. The tensed angle left an awkward curl in his arm, which was beginning to ache as it accommodated the increased security a new treasure like this deserved.

  At that moment, he found it hard to care about the dull burning sensation.

  This magic was HIS! His very own logos stone.

  Or something.

  The Elder had said something like resonter at the start of the day's lesson, but Kel hadn’t really heard him and he hadn’t wanted to interrupt. Asking about it later just seemed silly.

  Mostly because of what had happened just before the last bell.

  Kel absentmindedly hopped over the jagged crack running across the width of the old blackstone path, the small obstacle a familiar friend on this shortcut home. It meant he was halfway there!

  It did when you chose to run away for another day. Also, what was that about a…?

  'Maybe it’s not a shortcut, but who cares, I’ve gotta show Mom and Dad, and Marc’s gonna be so jealous!..'

  'Well maybe not, he only cares about stupid swords, but I’m gonna make a light and show ‘em, even if just once.'

  The Elder had explained, and then repeated the explanation what seemed like a dozen times over the whole day, how very much the standard Protocols still applied.

  'But I don’t care, it’s gonna be so cool when it lights up. Wait! What if I don’t do it right, maybe I should check that it’s still working.'

  Even at eight years old, Kel knew when he was fibbing in his head.

  He just really wanted to make it glow again. It was proof positive that he really could do it. Really could be a mage. Like in the stories he still sometimes let Mom read to him.

  After she promised it would be their secret.

  Then, a whistling gust of wind swirled through the trees and Kel looked up to see the branches sway, a common enough pastime on the familiar jaunt home.

  'What’s that? Blue… lights?'

  Ignore them, for the love of the Transcendentals, please ignore them.

  Maybe it had been the day’s events, his recent familiarity with unnatural glows, that played a trick on him. But Kellin could have sworn he saw blue sparks dancing in the shadows of the leaves.

  But when he looked directly at them, they vanished.

  'Nuh uh, not so easy to trick me, um, lights!'

  If only that were true, Kellin. After all, you’re still here, still…

  He returned to his very casual walk, having stopped for a moment to glare at the suspiciously mundane foliage to his left. The canopy lined both sides of the winding path, which vaguely ringed the village in a slightly squashed circle.

  Apparently most villages had similar encircling paths, built after the Redemption, but Kellin had never been travelling, so he couldn’t be sure.

  The curving path was one that saw rare use, most of the folks who ever bothered to walk it were there for no better reason than, well, to go for a walk.

  There was however, one thing everybody, even Slow Dennys, knew about the paths, even if they only paid heed to the rarely used roads when walking the larger thoroughfares leading from the village to the wider world, knowing they had reached the bounds of their home when they came to the intersection between the two.

  On the path, and within the circular-ish boundary, was the safety of civilization, as long as you kept to the Protocols. Venturing outside the boundary path?

  Don’t. Just don’t.

  It simply wasn’t worth it. No adventure, no game, no dare, was EVER worth crossing outside the boundary path for. Dying wasn’t even in the top three nightmares Kel had after hearing about people who had gone wandering out there.

  I remember when it was just stories giving me nightmares. Wait, nightmares?

  One fellow came back after, as Mom and Dad had put it, “Drinking himself silly, which is a great example of why you should…” Kel had tuned out the lecture at that point, more interested in trying to solve the problem with his memory.

  He couldn’t remember the man’s name.

  No problem, right? Except, despite questioning four sources of varying reliability (the neighbouring kids, their parents, then his parents and then finally the neighbour kids again post-bribing), he still couldn’t get the man’s name.

  And Kel was quite sure he wasn’t being pranked. It seemed no one, not even the man himself, could remember it. No one at all.

  Even more peculiar, any attempt to give him a new name, or a nickname, or refer to him as anything other than the nameless man would not work, as though he had lost the ability to have a name entirely.

  Over the next few weeks the nameless man stopped talking as much.

  Then at all.

  Then, after sitting on a bench for four days without moving, he went ‘off to the city to get better’, according to his parents at least. Kellin didn’t believe them.

  He had seen the man the day before he ‘left’, as the local kids had been the first to notice his stillness and the odd behavior had become a new source of macabre amusement to share with their friends.

  The man’s chest might’ve been moving and his arms occasionally clawed at the air, but there was no understanding in his glazed eyes. An unnerving stunned expression stuck on his face, was the last Kel had seen of the man before he had left, off to find something that felt less creepy to do than watch a sick guy.

  For some reason, not being able to tell whether the man was… there anymore had left an ashy taste in Kel’s mouth.

  Lost in *****land as Dad would… wait what?

  And then he vanished, ‘gone to the city’. But Kellin hadn’t heard about a carriage passing through, and the village’s horses were all accounted for. The man definitely hadn’t packed a bag.

  But any attempt to bring up such details sent his parents into a tizzy, so he had stopped.

  So, yeah, Kellin would NOT be leaving the path, thank you kindly.

  Hah, yet. Now what was I just saying about a…?

  And yet, something about these potential blue lights positively infuriated him. He knew they were there. But every time he tried to slide his gaze towards them, no matter how slowly he did so, they simply winked out before he could get a proper look.

  He stopped after another few minutes of increasingly subtle attempts to catch the disappearing lights out as he walked, his breathing ragged with frustration. They still twinkled, just outside of visual focus.

  “OH YEAH? WELL I CAN MAKE LIGHTS TOO!”

  Yanking the corded necklace from his neck so forcefully it almost tore, a thoroughly vexed Kellin stabbed the clear gemstone up towards the forest canopy, and pulled, just as Elder Or’Ailee had instructed him.

  A piercing azure star lit up within the clear stone, a pinprick of brilliant light defying the taunting of the disappearing lights. A second later, it dulled, flickering for a few times before winking out.

  “Hah! Take that you… lights?”

  You tell ‘em Kel. Anyway, something about a d-

  The lights had disappeared. And not just with their usual trick, but truly gone, even from Kellin’s periphery.

  The lights had vanished.

  And had taken something with them. Even the forest canopy, which had felt alive only seconds earlier, seemed darker, a shadowy pallor where before there had been movement and warmth.

  'Uhm okay, what do the Protocols say? Uh, a magic event ended, the local environment feels darker…'

  “I’m going home now,” 'State your…intendeds? Inten- …say you wanna leave.'

  “I want no quarrel, nor does Perennity brook it,” 'That one was important, we had to repeat the line every day in (Name for school) for a week.'

  'And then… uh there was one more… That’s it!'

  He made the sign of the Snail with his unoccupied hand and held it before him.

  There were six hand signs mandatory for the Protocols, and a bunch more that everyone knew, but according to the Elder, there were hundreds and hundreds of them. Mostly used in really specific things, which weren’t worth learning unless you needed to.

  The Snail sign, maybe because of the animal it was named for, encouraged slow calmness and peaceful tranquility.

  Kellin however, was not feeling particularly tranquil at that particular moment, his splayed index and middle fingers straining away from each other, desperate for the procedure to work.

  With no sign of the blue lights returning, a harried Kel walked perhaps a bit too fast on the remainder of his journey home from (Name.), leaving his hand aching and his chest heaving as he reached the final turn for home.

  Which was marked by a Scarlet Pole at the turn, stuck at a permanent half-fallen tilt by whatever magical phenomena preserved it.

  Of the four throughout the village, this one was most familiar to Kel, and the one he minded passing least. The Relic’s Ethos being weaker than the other three, there was no Slowing field around it, it just could never be moved.

  Looking down, Kel blushed as he turned past the Relic, noticing his hands were still tense, clutching his new treasure, and still making the snail sign.

  Slipping the cord back around his neck, he sighed in relief, somehow feeling better.

  He had only kept holding the sign as a… precaution. And he was still breathing hard because he had walked fast. He wasn’t still scared. Sure, maybe for a few minutes he had been spooked but he had definitely gotten over the eerie encounter.

  Pull the other one. Now why can’t I think the word dr-...

  Rounding the corner back onto one of the main paths through the village, Kel finally relaxed his tensed hand, and slowed down his breathing. Shaking his head free of any lingering dread, he hiked the mossy steps up towards the hill his family and a few others called home.

  'After all, if Marc sees me huffing and puffing it’ll be ages before he stops teasing. Plus, I’ve got the best news ever, no way I’m letting him get me today. I even ducked Bryn and his dummies by taking that shortcut, even if it did take longer… and was a bit spooky. Today was class! Almost-'

  “Hey Deerheart, have you been working on your sprinting? Clearly it’s workin’, I don’t see a drop of blood!” called Marc, stepping out from behind one of the numerous piles of old rubble and debris that dotted every part of the landscape, even within the village. He appeared from nowhere, in his usual attempt to make Kel jump.

  Kellin slowly turned his head, unflinching, far too familiar with his brother’s antics to give him the satisfaction.

  “Heya Marc. What’re you up to? Hanging out behind random ruins and snooping on people again? What do you reckon Dad’ll say?” He replied easily, despite his annoyance.

  Annoyance? Annoyance?! You’re smiling, you imbecile!

  He hadn’t stopped his march and Marc fell into easy lockstep with him, continuing the banter with no hesitation.

  “Good luck with that man, Dad’ll be far more “impressed” with you tellin’ on me than whatever he has to say about my practice.” he retorted, his air quotes briefly reminding Kel of the ‘trip’ home.

  'Damn, he got me, like Dad really hates old Mister Ohb’Reyn for tattling on his brother to the Peacekeepers a couple months ago.'

  'Maybe he should hate him. I liked Kolyn, he always had the best boiled sugar sweets. Not much hope of seeing him again either.'

  Unlike the gradual and public decay of the nameless man, Kolyn Ohb’Reyn was there one day, and did not exist the next. Probably just as dead, but for a way stupider reason, in Kel’s opinion.

  'So what he had some Warpshrooms? Just 'cause it’s against the Protocols? The pox is an easy cure, and everyone grows some in the winter to sell. And what if-'

  “You in there bro? I was messing about the sprinting, I can go kick Bryn’s ass if you-”

  “Nah,” Kel interrupted, only for Marc to give his standard issue glare of fake irritation.

  “Besides,” he continued before his brother launched into more cringe-worthy attempts to help, “I’m not out of breath from… ‘sprinting practice’, I took the Boundary path home, and-“

  'He just offered to kick Bryn Oh’AhRa’s ass for you, because he thought you were getting hassled, what’s he gonna say if you tell him about the lights? And what happened? What if he tries something and it goes wrong? What if he ends up like Kolyn? Would you really be able to keep that secret from the Peacekeepers forever?'

  'Or what if he ends up like the nameless man?'

  “And I didn’t want you thinking I’d been lost in the dark forest, so I went a bit quicker than usual, what about it?” he finished, waggling his fingers as he imitated a magistrate’s pompous cadence, hoping Marc wouldn’t notice anything wrong in the semi-brief pause.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  Something is wrong, and it’s not just your poor lying skills.

  “Alright then I ‘spose. If you’re sure. But you definitely went that way to dodge Bryn, right?” Marc asked, unwilling to let it rest.

  “Maybe I did, so? I’ve got something cool on me, what if he took it, who am I gonna complain to? Mayor Oh'AhRa never tells off Bryn or Eryn for anything.” Kel retorted, confident that Marc wouldn’t even try to deny the twin’s spoiled nature.

  As they pair crested the final foothill, they were met with an idyllic cluster of a half dozen small circular cottages atop a gently sloping mound, smoke puffing merrily from a few of the chimney pipes sticking out from the thatched roofs at jaunty angles. Nearly there.

  FOCUS Kellin, you lose awareness every time you think the word dre-

  “I guess. But you gotta stop letting him push you around, or he’ll never stop botherin’ you. Now what’s this I hear about ‘something cool’? How do you even know what cool looks like, you dork?” he finished with a grin, having turned his head to meet Kellin’s eyes as he made his point.

  Will he care? Naw, he didn’t seem that bothered when he did the testing last year and he came up Null.

  “Well? C’mon Kel, what’s the story?”

  “See if I tell you. Not like you’d find magic cool anyways, ya loon.” Kel drawled casually, smirking as he reached once more for the new pendant.

  He can see it a bit early, I guess.

  “Magic? Wait, today is testing day, but how would you have something magic with you unless…” Marc paused for a moment, and Kel could almost see the machinery of his mind whir.

  “Unless you made one of the Transcendentals respond.” He blurted, shock evident on his face.

  “Well, as a matter of fact…” he began with a smirk.

  As a matter of fact, Kellin had. The basic testing involved everyone drinking a mouthful of a truly vile syrupy concoction which didn’t seem to do anything, at first. Then the Elder had everyone imagine a bunch of shapes, and describe them. Twenty minutes later, the entire classroom had devolved into a strange symphony of crying, giggling and shrieking, and Kel was no exception.

  His memory got a bit fuzzy around then, colours and sounds had swapped places, and his surroundings all seemed to melt together in a swirling blur, but he remembered holding four small trinkets, and with each one the Elder had seemed more excited, even if his head had looked like a fish’s at the time. Most of the other kids had only held one, others as many as four. Some had been excused early, unable to perform even the basic exercises.

  “But only three of us were asked to stay back at the end of class. Me, Mareo, and Sera. Did we do something wrong?”

  “Had you?”, Marc replied.

  “Hush I’ll get to it.”

  “Don’t ask questions if you don’t want answers.” Marc responded.

  “HUSH!”

  By the final bell, things seemed mostly back to normal, and Kel felt the odd urge to apologize to the definitely inanimate desk which he was certain had been insulting him earlier. Before he decided whether that was insane, Elder Or’Ailee had waved the trio up to his desk and pulled out a small leather pouch, emptying its contents onto the only corner of the table free of papers and other clutter.

  Mareo had stuck up a shaky hand, looking as concerned as Kel felt, while Sera stayed quiet.

  “Elder, is-” he half-whispered.

  “Don’t worry, none of you are in trouble. These are the crystals I mentioned at the beginning of the day. I would like each of you to select one that’s the most… interesting to you.”

  “Once selected, I will instruct each of you on what to do. If anything happens, you even get to keep the gem. As I had mentioned.” he explained, ending on a gruff note.

  All three of their eyes locked onto the small pile of clear Crylic gemstones, each one identical at first glance. As they crowded around the desk’s edge however, awkwardly shuffling over at the Elder’s insistent beckoning, their identical see-through facets revealed a series of small oddities.

  Kellin had stopped looking after spotting one that had a tiny jellyfish in it. The Elder had taught them about the Sea last month, and he had really liked the jellyfish pictures.

  At least it looked like a jellyfish. With just two straight shiny tentacles.

  “That seems like a stretch.” Marc mused.

  “It was good enough to me, shut it.”

  “Let me see it then.” he replied with an outstretched hand.

  “You are seeing it, though?”

  Marc grumbled.

  While the others continued browsing, the Elder caught Kellin’s gaze, noticing his pause after retrieving a small but thick handbook, almost bursting at the seams, from the cluttered table.

  “Let me see what you picked out Kellin… ah, Flux, now that makes a great deal of sense.”

  'Sure, yeah. I get it. Mhm. But explain it once anyway?'

  “Well then, here’s what I want you to do.” he continued, coming to a stop in his flick through of the handbook, which he then began to read aloud from.

  “‘Imagine a line running through the center, and then pull on one end.’ With your mind, that is. Like moving the shapes earlier. If you understand, then get to it.”

  Kel imagined the line, which was for some reason faintly green tinted. Then he mentally yanked and saw… nothing. Nothing had happened.

  'Wait but I…'

  Fearful eyes returned to meet the Elder’s gaze, and was met with a furrowed brow. The Elder returned his focus to the booklet momentarily, lost in some unknown diagnosis.

  “Ahah! Yes, sorry, if you had let me finish, make sure you pull from the side facing…” he re-adjusted how far away the booklet was from his face, and squinted a few times. Finally he seemed to give up, withdrawing a piece of glittery chalk from his pocket.

  Mumbling a few words under his breath, the Elder snapped the very smallest piece from the top of the chalk stick with practiced ease, which began to glow a warm amber colour, leaving a shimmering trail in it’s wake. He then drew a circle in the air, and inside of it the light seemed to flex and bend.

  “A classic. He always does that when we can’t see his handwriting on the board. And I guess when he can’t see a book.” Kellin explained.

  “Oh so you get to interrupt for commentary do ya?” Marc retorted.

  “I’m telling it, amn't I?!”

  “Facing the reduced stalk.” the Elder finally finished, turning to look expectantly at Kellin, who hurried to comply.

  'Okay it’s gotta mean the side with the smaller metal tentacle. Or whatever. So just do it again but pull from one side in particular I guess. Does that mean the other end of the line should come out the longer one?'

  He was so preoccupied, he almost didn’t notice when the head of the small jellyfish lit up with a radiant blue glow.

  Almost.

  “Aaaahh!?” Kel asked with as much eloquence as he could muster, Mareo and Sera looking up from their ongoing selection at the sudden outburst.

  “Excellent Kellin, truly well done.” the Elder praised, “You may keep a hold of that for now, and when the others are finished, we’ll thread it with some cord so you can keep it safe.”

  “And Kellin,” He continued with a stern look, his tone far more grave, “You remember the Protocols don’t you?”

  Kel nodded. The Elder had only mentioned them like ten times already that day.

  “I can’t do magic on my own ‘til I’m an adult.”

  His stern look grew three degrees sharper.

  “That is to say, uh,” Kel stalled, wracking his brain for the exact wording, “Unless receiving guidance from an Elder or with express permission from the Authorities, Man is not to incite Magical Phenomen… al?”

  “Phenomen-ah.” The elder prompted.

  “Phenomena, until they be judged worthy of its gift” Kel finished.

  “Which means?” The elder was apparently not in a slack-giving mood.

  “That until I get a licence, I’m not allowed to make any magic by myself, unless I’m learning from an Elder? And I won’t be able to get a licence ‘til I’ve gone to a mage school… and they only accept adults.” He finished.

  “Are you being smart, Kellin?” The Elder asked, softly.

  “No, sorry.”

  “The Protocols are the only thing that keep us from ruin, Kellin Oakhonour, and you would do well to remember it.” he admonished, but it was lacking his usual fervour.

  He had busied himself flicking through the engorged handbook once more, stopping only to pull out a small charcoal pencil, and make some note or other, his usual tirade about the importance of the Protocols trailing off as he mumbled to himself.

  “...quota… alchemist… complete…”

  Kel didn’t much care why, he would just take the reprieve.

  “And that is how I ended up with this little beauty, and I’m not letting a thing ruin it.” Kel finished his story, returning the gem to its safe new home around his neck.

  “Not the Elder’s neverending lectures, and not Bryn Oh’AhRa. Not today.”

  “Well, you were being a bit smart.” Marc commented, focusing as per usual on entirely the wrong thing.

  “You absolute traitor.” Kel muttered.

  “So,” Marc continued unabashedly, “Are you gonna go and be a mage then?”

  “Maybe” Kel demurred, “But it’d take like, forever, before I could go off to learn.”

  “What do you mean, ‘maybe’” Marc retorted. “Hasn’t it always been like… I dunno…”

  KELLIN! PAY ATTENTION! That word, you know the one, the one you can’t think of. There’s something stopping you from thinking about it. And you know you’re about to hear it.

  'Why would I be about to hear it?'

  Because this is your usual recurring… nevermind, it's… just trust me. I’m you after all. And you have to pay attention to what Marc is about to say, or I think we’ll be caught here forever.

  'But I am here? What are you talking about?'

  Unless you pay attention, RIGHT NOW, you’re GOING to SUFFER and DIE, do you understand?

  'O-Okay…'

  “...Did you hear me Kel? I swear you get lost in your head more and more every day.” Marc complained.

  Shit. Come on Kellin, get him to repeat himself.

  “Uhm, no?” He murmured, a strange disconnected feeling slithering up his limbs and through his chest, the sight of home, only seconds away, doing nothing to stop the sensation.

  Suddenly, the comfortable familiarity of the scene no longer seemed normal.

  He wasn’t supposed to be here.

  This had already happened.

  He had to leave.

  The world thinned, colour and life leaching away again, just as it had in the forest.

  “I SAID, hasn’t it always been your dream?” he repeated.

  Kellin’s vision stuttered.

  It wasn’t the same day.

  It wasn’t day at all, it was night.

  It wasn’t by daylight he could see, but by fire.

  The chimneys were not puffing merrily, the houses were blazing, thick cloying smoke choking the breath from his lungs. A dark purple tinted miasma clouded his vision.

  He looked back at Marc, through vision blurry with tears, and saw his brother’s face bulge and contort, his ears and nose sharpening, mottled green patches blooming across his skin.

  He heard screams. Screams he knew.

  He turned away from the twisting, contorting form of his brother, and looked once more towards his burning home, so close to the roaring fire his face felt like it was being charred.

  Take control Kellin, you heard the word, you know what this is. We’re caught in a Warped Dream. Now fight through it. You know how.

  “Yes, Marc. It was always my dream.” Kel whispered.

  The fire swelled, its dull roar swelling to merge with the pained screaming, the hissing and popping of burning timber harmonizing with the cackling laughter and breaking bones.

  He ran, and ran and ran. Disorienting noise and colours, the metallic tang of blood and smoke clogging his nose, the lack of breath, all flashed before him. Images, cycling over and over in his head, swelling and swelling, until there was no escape.

  The goblins.

  The fire.

  The tall stones calling to him, instinct guiding him to hide, to find safety.

  And finally, that same first sight, of blue lights dancing in the forest.

  Those damn lights. Now wake UP!

  Kellin’s eyes snapped open with an accompanying pained yelp, barely aware of the offending boot retreating after it had stamped his foot. Disoriented by the unexpected sunlight, his eyes roved around his surroundings for a moment, his breath stuttering in quick bursts.

  He realized he was in the carriage once more, it appeared to be early morning and more immediately important, to whom that boot had belonged.

  “What the fuck Bryn?” he asked, sitting properly upright.

  “I’m not listening to your moaning.” He intoned, as though that explained a damn thing. Kel looked around only to be met with blank looks from his travelling ‘companions’.

  “I repeat, what the fuck?”

  Bryn gestured to the Peacekeeper, who had resumed his seat at the far end of the carriage.

  “He said you and the other mage were hit by Warp from the cannon thing. Knocked ye both out. You were moaning in your sleep.” he half-mumbled.

  Kel’s hands shot to his ears.

  Still round. You’re fine.

  His breathing slowed.

  Bryn smirked, the mumble disappearing with spiteful glee. “Scary dream?”

  “Easy for you to say.” Kellin retorted.

  “What?”

  “Uh, nothing. Yeah, bad dream. More or less.”

  “Is the poor orphan gonna cry?”

  Kellin sighed.

  Oh, I really can’t wait to get to the Academy and be done with this arsehole.

  d what the Resonator is yet?

  See you Friday.