WL Chapter 1
Notes: Whenever I try to launch Dreamland, I’m informed that it’s “too unique” and readers struggle to connect with it. So, I’m trying something new. Let me know how it feels.
The cold wind whipping around the rainforest towers of glass and steel reaching into the sky sent a chill down Dreyma’s body she couldn’t hide, the worry and fear inside her moving as if in tandem with the dark storm brewing overhead. She needed a moment to breathe, to reset herself, to collect her will and courage, knowing what she was likely to see when she stepped inside her dream lab.
She breathed in the thin, humid air, feeling the gentle kisses on her bared hands, neck, and face of the cloud settling in around her. Opening her mouth, she breathed out, releasing the tension and the disappointment she was preparing herself for. This wasn’t her last chance. She knew that. She had an indefinite number of them. She could construct an infinite number of possibilities, could create an unimaginable amount of scenarios and challenges.
But her soul was getting tired, and even if she didn’t want to admit that immediately, it was something she’d have to face soon enough. She wasn’t ready to quit, though.
So, instead she took in the might and splendor of the growing storm. The rising winds caressed the trees and plants growing up the sides of every skyscraper for as far as she could see. Such promise hid their near destruction. The scent of wet lilacs trickled across her nose and a smile wove across her lips. They’d managed to save this species of plant, after having recovered the propagation starts from another planet thanks to her ingenuity. She was an architect, a healer of worlds. This was what she did.
This was what she was good at.
Her feet refused to propel her toward the wide and impressive door to her lab, and disappointment slithered through her like a worm searching for the roots of her beloved lilacs.
It was getting harder to motivate her to do what she loved most in all the known worlds.
Closing her eyes to the sights she loved so dearly, she sank herself into the moment, allowing enjoyment to uncurl within her as she focused on the coolness of her cheeks, of the movement of her hair in the wind, of the touch of the cloud and the promise of rain to come any moment, any second.
She listened, though sounds rarely brought her joy. Typically, they only drove her further and further toward insanity, or at least that’s what it felt like, the near impossible-to-contain rage that would flare at the merest sound because she was encased in a wild cacophony that attacked every nerve in a near constant barrage. That’s why she loved the storms. It grounded traffic. When the clouds were within the highest reaches of their never-ending city, the sky cruisers could not fly, for no amount of engineering could foresee what hid within the clouds.
Lifting her face to the sky, she searched for sounds of the storm’s residents.
Blissful silence greeted her, and she drank it in like a woman starved, the ragged edges of her soul bolstering as it consumed the nourishment the cool silence offered, relaxing under the balm applied to each and every single one of her frayed nerves.
She stopped listening at that point, focusing on the smells, trying to single out each of the silent creatures she’d managed to save. The smell of sweet honey wafted toward her as the balsam poplar reached out to say hello. A gentle note of berry and citrus teased at her as the nearby fireweed offered greeting.
A wild and wooly smell sounded an alarm, the cow parsnip alerting her that something large was out there breaking its stalks and bruising its leaves.
She smiled, waiting, keeping her eyes closed for fear of triggering what might be lurking out there. A slight trilling growl commended her decision. Lifting her fingers, she sought the source, not wanting to dominate but merely to collect, to sense, to learn, to love.
A soft, tufted ear grazed the backs of her curled hand, the silken shafts pleasant and soothing. The ear hesitated, and then a large head butted into her, demanding further attention.
Opening her eyes, she smiled, careful not to make eye contact with the great and majestic sky cat whose head was larger than Dreyma’s, her facial hair wisping away from her pink nose as if the winds of the storms she resided in had permanently shaped it. The black stripes embedded on her white fur made her startlingly blue eyes seem bigger, as Dreyma scratched behind the large cat’s ear, enjoying the thick softness.
The cat moved, wordlessly demanding Dreyma focus her attention on the cat’s thick, white maned chest instead.
With a sigh of contentment and relief, Dreyma stepped forward, using both hands to massage the giant cat’s muscles she could barely find in the thick fur. She let her head fall forward, the silken white masses surrounding her face.
The cat’s head whipped up and wild tension stiffened the chest under Dreyma’s fingertips.
Without hesitation, she took a step back, folding her hands behind her back and dropping her gaze to the ground, while watching the magnificent cat as she unfurled her white wings, turning away from Dreyma and the building she stood beside, and launched herself off the ledge of the dream lab door landing.
A mournful and haunting song greeted Dreyma as the sky cat disappeared within the swirling mist she left behind, and a moment later, an orange glow broke through the growing darkness as the baleen plates lit the approach of a sky whale. As the sky whale closed its mouth, the fiery glow moved to the whale’s large and undulating throat, alerting Dreyma to the dangers lurking in the clouds around her. It was feasting on the air jellies hiding in the clouds, tiny creatures filled with toxins that could do her great harm.
With a pang of regret, Dreyma slowly backed toward the door behind her, feeling with her fingers for what she knew was there, taking in and holding the pleasure of the splendor of watching first the one sky whale breach the storm clouds, and then her young calf, the voices of many other whales rising, warning her of the dangers of the rains. If there were this many whales, their throats glowing brighter than their eyes, then there were a lot of air jellies.
With a sigh, she ducked inside and closed the door on her joy, breathing in resolution and hardening herself to the resigning testament of what she needed to do.
Eighty-three voices assaulted her, each speaking at low levels, each respectful and caring. A soft blue light filled the space as several holographic images rose from tables, floors, and chairs, and projected downward from the ceiling. Dreyma sidestepped a weeping willow that materialized through glowing bits of light before her, and moved through a walking forest, wishing to hear the tree’s throaty voices as they sang the song of the stories they gathered, but not at this time, not over the eighty-three voices of the people dedicated to supporting her mission to save humanity. The balm the storm had gifted her was already being eaten slowly away as if the sounds of the voices of those she trusted most dearly were acid, bringing her soul to a screaming rot.
She paused at several stations on her way to her own station, congratulating Zedas on the architecture he’d finalized and watching the dreamers settling in, exploring the far reaches of what he’d created. She offered Shusk support as they watched his dreamers going through the motions of his dreamscape, but watching the statistics of the world his dreamers resided in and seeing no movement at all.
She touched Brasella’s shoulder, offering support to the kinetic creator, ignoring the needles of unease the small touch instigated within Dreyma. Brasella was resolute in her need and drive to create the correct sequence of operations and systems that would save the world she’d claimed, but she was making progress.
Dreyma took heart in that because her own world was also moving forward, or at the very least it had been when she’d left the night before. She needed hope.
But as she descended the three dark steps into her recessed lab, the blue holographic waterfall trickling glowing waters to her right, collecting in a glowing pool she moved around, stepping lightly onto the boardwalk that wound through her dreamscape. Cascading droplets of light and leaves hung from the ceiling high above her, appearing out of the darkness and offering comfort though their touch offered no tangible sensation. As she continued along the boardwalk, golden lights awoke, lighting up her path on either side, though there was no real chance of her falling off. The blue holographic lights offered too much guidance to allow for that, but she favored the orange color, a ready fuel of change blossoming and growing inside her at the mere sight.
The hanging branches of leaves and swaying moss broke and light from her creation shined through, offering a sky without stars, without a sun or moons. Simply light. A jagged mountain filled her view, growing larger as the sky dominated more of her view, the cave mouth receding as she moved toward the podium she sought.
She loved this view. No matter how many times she had to destroy her dreamscape and start over, this was the landscape she created first. This was her sanctuary, her entry point to the world she’d created.
This time, it would work.
“Dreyma.”
This voice didn’t assault her like the others did. This one soothed her with its deep timbre, offering comfort as he had her entire life. His was the only voice she longed to hear, the only one that eased her nerves and calmed her senses. “Brother,” she said, a smile forming her word, even though one did not grace her tight lips. She was nervous.
His hand hovered over hers, but did not touch her.
She felt him in any case, Braxan’s soul soothing her in a way his skin would be like sandpaper. He understood her in a way very few ever did and ever would. “Have you come to brag?”
Withdrawing his hand, he tilted his head, his lips pulling back in chagrin, a small frown furrowing his brows as he directed his attention to the tall mountain. “Being right is not a state of happiness or despair. It is simply a state of existence.”
Although he was correct, it still irritated her. She wanted to be right. She desperately needed to find the correct answer. She was so close. She could feel it, sense it. It was so terribly close to her fingertips, but remained just outside of her reach. Touching the control panel, she pulled up the histories of the past century that had occurred while she’d slept.
The world she’d claimed this time was a relatively small one, one of many they’d nearly forgotten about on the outer edges of their galaxy. The people who lived there called it Earth, a word the Tellusians had long forgotten, meaning dirt. It made sense that this word had been relegated to the archives because dirt was one element of their world that did not readily exist. Their skyscrapers had claimed all of it eons ago in a mad dash to reach the sky and find places for all of their people to exist before being cast out to the stars.
The Dreamland experiment was a simple one. Humanity had many issues, one of which was the driving need to conquer and the inevitable result of destruction. Progress rose from the debris of change. That was inevitable. Light was best seen in the darkness. Growth required the fertilizer of decay.
But a balance was needed. Dreyma and the other dream lords believed that humanity could and should be the guardians of the worlds they claimed, not mass destroyers. But the evolutionary regime of the human race, the lessons learned and branded into the very genome of human DNA seemed to only propel the drastic devastation of human development.
Over the past centuries, Dreyma and her brother had designed and developed their thought experiment, casting their dream planes across several worlds, and collecting more dream architects to their ranks, each taking on a new world, or some sharing larger, richer ones.
Dreyma’s latest experiment, however, entailed building a dreamscape where the dreamers were recruited to help instead of the original architects. Her thought was that greater success might occur with the help of those genetically adapted to those being served were the guardians. How many generations of evolution separated her from those she was attempting to save and guide? To some of these worlds—like Earth—tens of thousands of years had passed. She herself was in her eighth regeneration. But while her regenerated clone had few evolutionary developments, the humans she served had many, both physical and psychological.
Looking at her brother, she met his dark eyes, allowing their souls to connect for a brief moment.
He smiled at her, the tips of his lips turned down in sorrow, his eyes pinched with worry, his brow furrowed in concern.
In preparation for her failure.
Shaking that off, she looked away, finding the slight depression on her screen where she’d pressed the same command millions of times. The holographic blue glow receded, as a collision of other colors took their place. Light transformed to reality and the boardwalk dispersed into a wide game trail that meandered along the still-glowing river.
Fully immersed in her dreamscape, Dreyma tapped her fingers along the view of the sky high above her, her fingers bringing flashes of blue light, reminding her that this wasn’t real, that this was still a holographic projection.
Statistics and graphs filled the span of space, blocking out the mountain and the giant moss-draped maw of the cave.
The reports were good. People were doing better on Earth since she’d instituted this new system. The people of Earth were fighting to protect their world, driving back the lasting footprint of their advances, rising to create a balance between scientific advancement and the survival of their ecosystem.
Moreover, crime was down in large areas of the world, though still prevalent in the pockets she had yet to reach. The impact was heartening.
Darkness speared her as other statistics rose, greeting her with despair. Those pockets she hadn’t been able to penetrate, however, were growing darker, as if to blanket the lights of hope she was igniting. More deaths. More brutality. More…
How could humanity be so dark? And how could she possibly break through that to bring at least a little light?
By building on what she’d already created.
Shaking out her shoulders, she allowed her resolution to settle around her like a protective cloak and set to work, focusing on the outskirt areas of the growing darkness of humanity, reminding herself that light could not shine without darkness.
But darkness could exist without light, a truth she’d learned too many times before.
A hand pressed one side of her neck as a sharp prick of pain inserted itself into her neck. “This is for your own good, sister,” Braxan murmured inside her ear, offering a comfort that felt like an ice storm growing inside her body. “You will never quit, not matter the destruction they are doing to you. You are worth more than they are.”
“Braxan,” Dreyma managed to get out before her tongue solidified. Why? What was he doing? Why was he betraying her?
“They’re not worth saving,” he whispered as he laid her on the ground, the feel of it shooting needles and knives along her skin at each nerve. “Without your soul to feed them, they will show you.” His lips pressed icy edges into her brow. “I love you.”
And then there was nothing but pain.
Questions
Is the story interesting?
Did this chapter hold your attention?
What annoyed you?
Do you like the character?
Were you confused about something?
