The Knight of Dreams

The night had been particularly dreary, and the trees were creaking against each other more than normal in the dark woods. Raperian had taken to living outside and as far from civilizations as possible. He thought that if he was away from people’s minds he wouldn’t be so prone to entering them. Unfortunately, he still dreamt other’s night mares, they just seemed to take longer to reach him. He didn’t exactly know what that meant, most of his dreaming was in darkness until he happened upon a devilish experience. Despite all he did, he could never do more than create useless weapons. He was sure they would be able to do damage, but they were useless because he was not acknowledged by either beast or dreamer.

Through his years of trying to accomplish something other than watching the nightmares unfold before him, he began to group the dreams into categories. Beast dreams revolved mostly around the participant getting mauled, chased, and terrorized by a creature of hellish desire. There were torture dreams where the person was being tormented physically in the darkest and deepest ways of despair. There were also mental dreams of this state, where torture of the mind was often more damaging that the physical variety. He had seen people crumple at the sight of their danger and weep themselves into despair. It was all he could do to place a hand on their shoulder, or at least pretend to, wishing they knew he was there. Other dreams were not as dangerous, though not less traumatic. Usually in these dreams people were endlessly alone, or in a trap without escape. Other dreams encompassed embarrassing situations that were inescapable, such as being naked in front of an audience, or forgetting important things too late to have them remembered.

Raperian had discovered he could create things in dreams by accident. As a child he had cowered behind the dreamtrees or lied flat against the dreamgrass, trying everything in his power to survive the Hell his mind brought him to every night. He never attempted to help anyone, thinking they were the ones causing him this torment. He became so fearful that he stopped talking, or even thinking of joy. His parents did not know what to do with him and placed him in the mental ward. The dreams became worse and more convoluted, darkness was twisted beyond what a normal mind could imagine. He suffered for years, and couldn’t explain to the doctors why he was getting worse. His words would no longer come. He would do anything to have a dream or nightmare of his own, something he could be in control of, something he could fight. Anger soon replaced his fears and he became belligerent and angry towards others. The staff could no longer control his outbursts. He had discovered he could make things happen when he was awake, even if he couldn’t while he was asleep. His parents started to visit less, and when they did they couldn’t hide the look of sadness as well as confusion. He remembered the last time he saw them, because they left a note. A simple letter written in handwriting that was so quickly scribbled most of the words were unintelligible. The few words that were readable were three words that broke his heart and left him abandoned. “We adopted you.”

They never came back for him, and left him there, he was no longer claimed, nor had he ever been wanted. He was only ten, but questioned the point of life if he was left awake for a few sweet hours only to be thrown into a torment of anger and twisted darkness. He began to enjoy the nightmares of the others, so much so that he would guess at the pain that would happen next. He couldn’t wait to fall asleep and work his way into the dreams, hoping to influence the evil. For some reason this felt more comfortable to him, instead of suppressing the fear, he now reveled in it. That was until one particular dream. A young girl was in a whirlwind of torment. She appeared to be around his age. At first the dream seemed like all others, dark and seeping like a slippery sluice with evil. The girl was just as terrified as everyone else normally was, but the beasts and other creatures were different. They chased her with purpose. With other dreams like this it seemed they were playing with their victims, just for the joy of it, but with her they knew she wouldn’t be another toy. She meant something. Raperian didn’t know why he had thoughts like this, she was obviously just another person that sucked his mind into their own, only for him to prove once again how useless he was besides being a spectator.

His breath shimmered in the clouds of mist, foreboding the danger that was about to appear. She appeared first, wild golden curls flying around her head like flames, her feet were bare and caked with dirt and mud. She slipped in the grass and fell to her knees, giving the evil time to catch up. She wanted to cower, and he expected her to, he even began to count down in his head when the beast would appear, but to his surprise she got up. She rewrote the story and she headed for the trees. He had been standing in an open field just moments earlier, and yet now he was in trees. She headed straight for him and he stared her down. Could she see him? She continued straight for him.

“Help me!” She whispered, only capable of minimal sound because she was so out of breath. Was she talking to him? He looked around to see if any other dream person was near, but resounding silence was their only company. She skidded to a halt right in front of him and he reached his arms out to her. But at the last second she turned and pressed herself against the tree.

“Find me, anyone. Please help me.” She closed her eyes and wished with all her might.

“I’m here, I can help you!” He said to her and a sudden throb resounded in the air around them. Her eyes shot open and she looked around wildly. “I CAN HELP YOU!” he yelled, his heart switched back and shed the murky darkness of despair. Someone was willing to call to anyone, to him, in the darkness and he was there to help. They were willing. He clenched his fists tightly and was filled with so much determination to help that a dagger grew in his hand. She didn’t respond, but instead pressed tighter against the tree, her fists clenched so hard against the bark that it crumbled.

Just then the beast that had been chasing her appeared, it was a ferocious oozing dog with yellowed and cracked teeth. It was terrifying but unusual. It had a master with it. The being was holding the chain-like leash that the beast was pulling against. Usually the creatures ran free.

“Go find her.” The voice resounded from the acid-smoke that was controlling the beast. “We can’t lose the key.“ It was so low that it shook the ground like an earth quake and even Raperian felt fear. He looked down and his hands began to turn black. He was being affected. It felt like his heart stopped but then started again, only in reverse. Black memories crept into his mind at the sound of the darkness’ voice. The chain to the beast was dropped and it lunged towards them.

“Stay away from her!” Raperian yelled out, brandishing his dagger and holding it high above his head. He swung the blade down and as though time itself was severed a tear formed, bright light shone through. The beast stopped in confusion.

“What have we here?” The darkness asked in surprise, but he sounded equally as delighted. But before anything else could happen Raperian felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over and saw that the hand was old and wrinkled. He looked up to see who it belonged to and could see a very long beard.

“You’ve done well, young one, but it’s time for you to go.” The voice came from the owner of the hand. He covered Raperian’s eyes and in the next moment he sat up straight in bed. He didn’t know what happened, or who any of those people were. But something was different about that dream that rekindled a fear he had long since forgotten. All he knew was that he had tried everything, from imagining swords to other creatures to extra blades of grass in the dreams to create some sort of effect to announce he was there. He tried to disrupt the flow of the dream, but try as he might he was as unhelpful as the breeze. Even though he tried everything to help, he felt he should have given up long ago, but he couldn’t, and as long as he couldn’t he wouldn’t. He now had a purpose, and a strength he never knew.