“Hm?”, he wonders. Florence is facing a familiar scene, one that he doesn’t remember all that well… It was the last time he saw his brother. His parents and his brother were fighting because of a disagreement. Florence’s brother, at the age of 19, was already on his way to marry someone, someone his parents didn’t approve of.
Florence was just six years old. Though he wasn’t fully aware of why his brother left, he knew that something was amiss. The scapegoat vanished allowing for the creation of a new scapegoat.
“But why am I… I don’t care about all this right now!”, Florence yells with absolute fury. The hazy memories are set ablaze as he sets foot in a foreign world. He’s aware of the fact that this is just a dream yet he cannot tell why he’s this aware of the fact that he’s dreaming.
“Can I make myself wake up? Is this a trap?”, he asks himself shouting into the void of space. “Am I in danger?”
The stars realign to relay a message by those causing this madness. “Have fun in this laboratory of mine,” is all they reply. There’s no way to test the limits of this space except by "having fun". As such, Florence decides it’s time to test the limits of his imagination.
“Laboratory of mine…”, he repeats. “Can I reach others, then?”
Recreating the scene he saw when he met Uri, he erases the night sky to create his own. Pondering more and more as to what constitutes the perfect world, he erases the rest of the domain placing a moon beneath him. Stepping on the flat blue moon, he believes that a massive lake should lie above him and remain still and frozen in time. At the center of that lake should sprout a tree with a massive crown and roots that lead into the depths of this world. A small island for visitors should they ever be interested in coming in contact with the luscious tree.
“Maybe there should be more… green stuff?”, he asks himself.
Reducing the lake in size, he spawns land that boxes in this perfectly circular lake. Atop this land lies a field of petunias in all colors. With a snap, he adds a night sky befitting of the blue moon and this serene world of beauty. Finally, he lets himself fall onto the world below.
“What do they gain from inspecting people’s dreams? Is this really just for fun?”, he asks himself. “Still, I doubt there’s anything too nefarious going on. Even if this was some kind of attempt to subject people to eternal imprisonment, I doubt they’re doing this for the sake of evil.”
Gently landing within his flower field, he wonders what everyone else may be up to. Franky, Iqbal, Elena, Prometheia, Uri, and… That’s all he can think of. He didn’t have any friends while going to school. He doesn’t have a family he can rely on or that he’s attached to in any shape or form. The only other person he can think of is his brother but he cannot remember his face no matter how much time he spends on trying to do so.
“I should check on Iqbal and Uri. I’m sure they’d love to hang out and have fun in this world,” he thinks. His divine key at his beck and call, his trusty weapon that has been his aid since he was a child, appears.
His most creative moment so far should soon bloom into fruition. The three rings grow and multiply adjusting in a way that creates a hard hanging swing chair before he can test his hypothesis. He picks out a petunia and lets the additional rings fade away as he prepares for his next move. He then positions the three rings by size: the smallest ring furthest back, the medium ring in the middle, and the large ring further ahead. Believing that the petunia is far too fragile to survive his experiment, he turns it into a rock. Now all that’s left is placing the rock in the space that occupies the smallest ring and pulling the rings back.
Like a supersized slingshot, the rings move in unison as the smallest ring is pulled back. While pulling until he hits the limit, he hardens the rock. Finally, he lets go firing his projectile into the tree he has conjured with his mind. Stronger than a projectile from an anti-tank rifle, it obliterates the tree ahead and continues to fly for another kilometer landing at the other side of this lake.
“Woah! I could probably make my shots even stronger this way!”, he exclaims. His excitement is off the charts as his growth seems to be at a constant incline.
“Now for the true test…”, he says with invading the dreams of others in mind. Messing with someone in their dreams should be fine since it shouldn’t have a lasting effect, right? Nothing could stop him from causing a little mischief, right?
Since his mind is already set on reaching any of the five potential victims, he leans back on the smallest ring and widens the gap of the other rings so he doesn’t cave in his skull by accident. Angling it at the sky, he takes off as he looses his footing. Launching himself straight into a black hole he conjured, he flies through the cosmos to the world he desires to reach. The first thing he comes in contact with is a star emitting green hues of heat.
After submerging himself within that star, he finds himself stumbling down a flight of stairs into a child no younger than a grade-schooler. The commotion attracts a crowd that doesn’t talk or act as he removes himself from the child. Their creepy blank faces worry him. However, something comes bursting through a wall landing on top of him. It seems to be a child perfectly fine and unbothered. At least he was unbothered until another child bursts through the hole in a wall.
“Iqbal!”, he rejoices. “It’s been a while! How are you?”
Iqbal, perplexed, asks, “Are you really Flo? You’re not like them, right?”
Florence stretches out his arms holding out for a hug. Iqbal, without hesitation, jumps into his arms. They burst through another wall into what seems to be the skies. The school is no more as Iqbal and Florence fall into the endless skies within Iqbal’s world.
“I thought I wouldn’t see you until next month! And you didn’t show up on my last day either!”, says Iqbal frustrated but also overjoyed.
“I’m sorry… I should have come. I’ll be there on your first day if you don’t mind,” answers Florence.
Since the day they met, Florence has put in a lot of effort into meeting Iqbal whenever he can. Accompanying him on his way home, blinding him with his divine key while he’s in class, and flying by his window at night are all he can do for now. Part of the reason why Florence is trying so hard at growing stronger is the need to protect Iqbal. He even went as far as pantsing one of Iqbal’s bullies with his divine key.
Partially recreating the place where they first met, Florence embarks on a journey with his adopted sibling. This time he adds a cosmic flair to their journey. Their cozy little station now lies in space. There are no rails as stations of that kind only need rocket-powered locomotives to get people from A to B. Not far is an approaching locomotive about to lead them to their next destination, the next friend on their list.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
Upon coming to a halt, the doors open releasing a cold gust of wind as they are invited in. The first thing they set their eyes on is the corridor leading to the roomettes. Hand in hand, they head for the cabin in the far back allowing a clear view of what they’re leaving behind. As they journey through the cosmos, Florence has a brilliant idea.
“How about we make our own game?”, he asks.
“Huh?”
“Let’s make our own board game! Or a card game! Or how about both?”, he adds. “It’ll be a massive card game with all kinds of expansions! A huge project we can work on whenever and then when we meet again we exchange ideas and expand it.”
Florence is strangely overambitious about creating a game. Never before has anyone seen that passionate side of his. Most of the time he’d rather hide away all his needs and wants without ever being open about his ambitions. It’s why his answers are always rather vague.
However, their little playdate is cut short as the messenger from before has another announcement to make. “Leave the train. Your dreams are coming to an end,” it displays through the use of stars.
“Does that mean you’ll have to leave?”, asks Iqbal, disappointed that their dreams are coming to an end. “But it hasn’t been long!”
“I know… But I have to go, okay? We’ll meet again in a month, okay? Maybe I’ll fly by at night… Until then, promise me you’ll be a good kid,” says Florence reluctantly getting off his bed. “I promise it won’t be for long.”
They hug and part ways. A final pat on the head brings an end to their shared dream as Hyperion steps into the corridor. He steps out of the stagnant train and watches it dissolve into lights that scatter and fade away. The cosmos he’s standing on fades away revealing a white plane that stretches into infinity. No skies, no lifeforms, and no air seem to exist here yet he breathes and feels like he would in the real world. Turning around, he faces the one at fault for creating these dreams.
“What do you want from me?”, Hyperion demands to know. “You haven’t harmed us and you don’t seem to be a demon. What’s your deal?”
The figure he’s facing is a whirring shadowy figure with white hollow eyes just a little taller than Iqbal. Though it takes the appearance of a child, it doesn’t seem to be one.
“Do you know where demons come from?”, asks the figure.
“I know…”
“Have you met victims of this system?”, it asks.
“I have met one of the Receptor Children,” he answers. For some unknown reason, he’s incapable of lying and cannot refuse to answer any of these questions.
“Have you heard of Fusions?”
He nods.
“Then… Have you heard of Walpurgisnight and the increase of demons lately?”
“I haven’t. Can you stop being so cryptic and get to the point? You just sound like some crazy conspiracy nut,” Hyperion bickers. “I’ll just be upfront. I’m Florence though I prefer to be called Hyperion, 17, barely 167 centimeters tall, use pure light magic… You are?”
“Huh?”, the figure replies. Absolutely perplexed as to why he believes that it would be honest, it takes a second to adjust and reconsider how Florence should be approached.
“You may sound like some nutcase but this isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve dealt with these past two weeks. So just be upfront and tell me what you want,” adds Hyperion.
The shadowy figure reveals its true form and presents itself as the child Franky met just five days ago. “I’m Havel, a white feather under The Imaginator’s protection. We need people like you for a project…”
The Magi are a newfound organization with a large gathering that has only been around for a year. They’ve been researching demons and have attempted all kinds of methods within their price range to find a way to eradicate them and prevent Dream Catchers from transforming into demons as they’re most at risk. One such method is increasing the quality of life for Dream Catchers by having them under their protection.
Still, their reach is limited and their funding is finite. With the constant expectation to create results at an increasing pace without ever getting more funding, they suffer and struggle as they fight for what they believe to be just. As such, volunteers and the like are needed to further their research and bring salvation to those that need it. One such project is the SL-Project, one with a heavy focus on light magic and focused on saving those closest to turning into demons.
“I… I can’t just leave. I still need so much more training to control my magic and-”
“Then we can offer all the training you need,” replies Havel.
“What about housing, school, and-”
“We can provide for every single one of your needs and even offer protection to those you hold dear. You won’t ever have to worry about getting paid, having your own home and meals to feast on, education, or anything like that! I’m 1000% telling the truth right now. We need someone like you!”, Havel utters with sheer desperation.
Since Hyperion still seems to be on the fence when it comes to aiding these strangers he’s never met before, he takes a few steps back. Havel just sounds too desperate to ever be someone worth joining. It is then that Havel reveals marks all over his body. He has all kinds of purple spots with veins branching out and connecting them. He wore gloves to conceal these spots and regularly applies makeup while wearing his hood while also using magic to change how people perceive him. The purple patches are incredibly coarse and chafing alone can peel his skin off.
“This is the kind of thing all kinds of people face every day. This was how my body looked like twenty years ago. I died from these wounds but my spirit persists and allows me to remain human. I’m most stable in the minds of others and occasionally appear in the real world for more important matters than my life,” he claims. “I’ll do anything it takes to prevent people from dying the way I did but I can’t force people to act. My pride is hurt every time I show these mental scars that remain despite the fact that I have passed.”
Havel puts his garments back on.
“But I can’t tell you what to do. Only you get to decide whether or not you join. I also won’t report this to my higher-ups. I can make you forget ever meeting me if you don’t want to involve yourself with us,” he says. “I’m sorry for guilt-tripping you like this. It just kinda happened in the heat of the moment.”
“I don’t know… I’m sorry,” he replies.
“It’s fine. Then hold out your hand and I’ll erase your memories. I won’t burden you any longer with this nightmare,” Havel says expressing sorrow.
“I’ll think about it. I don’t need you to erase my memories…”
Somewhat relieved, Havel replies, “Is that so? Then thank you for listening to me. If you do want to join, you’ll find us.”
The dream comes to an end as Florence wakes up in the middle of the night pondering as to what he should do. Escaping through a window in just shorts and a shirt, he decides to spend the rest of the night flying around. His first destination takes him to the nearest hospital deciding to rest on the highest building. Below him are countless people dealing with all kinds of problems both mental and physical.
“Right now, are there people fighting for their lives below me? Is there a chance that I could help them?”, he wonders. Though he still can’t just trust Havel, he knows that others sometimes aren’t as fortunate as he is. Though that shouldn’t be his problem and never was, he has the power to help others on a wider scale. He has the power to alleviate the suffering of others despite the fact that it is so destructive.
“If someone else had this power, would they save these people? Would they hesitate to save them like I am?”, he asks himself.
So far, Elena has done a good job of shielding him. The closest he ever got to finding out just how cruel the fate some unfortunate people face, was through Uri. He too has stories of being mistreated thanks to his upbringing. Now that he’s free to do as he wishes, could he alleviate someone’s suffering?
“But wasn’t I already helping others? I’m on my way to become strong enough to defeat demons. I’m helping Iqbal! It’s not like I’m doing everything for myself! I’m helping others!”, he says. For now, he’ll stick with Elena and Franky. For now, he’s doing fine.