The boy that dreamt

[Elsanor]

The boy that dreamt

 

From the beginning of time, the young boy stood in the embrace of his golden armchair. His glittering throne was of marvelous quality, with veins of silver entwined in the purity of the most precious of metals. Gems were positioned with a craft that would make the most capable and skilled artisan bow her head in shame, and glorious rags of proud beasts filled the sitting, to soften its harsh touch. So that the boy could be there, dreaming, for all eternity. For the boy was much more precious than his bejeweled throne. He was the essence of this world; its center and its farthest reaches; its beginning and its end.

 

And I, a humble girl, a peasant’s daughter, have seen him in my dreams. He has spoken to me through ecstatic visions, has told me what I have to do. But how I am to fulfill my destiny, I know not. I have seen but twelve summers in this life. I am so young. And my parents need me here, to help them in the works of our home. My beloved parents… My mother, Urleen, is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. And my father, Edeas, is the best father of the world. How am I to leave them forever? Never to see them again? But I cannot tell them. They would never understand.

 

So I leave, my former life forever behind me. They will cry, they will bend and fall, but I have to go. And so, deep in pain but firm in mind, I begin my journey. My small house is lost to me now. I shall never see it again. Nor the small path that leads to our doorway, made of stones I helped put. Nor our cornfield, and Neoth, my puppy, that used to dance around me when we played.

 

I am in a forest now. Huge trees full of green leaves surround me. I look towards the sky and I see the rays of the sun passing through the tangled branches, lighting the place where I am. Yes, that must be a sign. A signal of some sort that says I am in the correct path. I continue, and find myself in a large clearing in the forest’s heart. Standing there for sometime, I try to hearken the sounds of the place. From the howling of the wind passing through the trees, to insect buzzes, to distant animal moans. It is as if the woods are a creature by themselves, all other beings in it forming up a greater entity. And there, amidst the trance I have put myself in, I realize I am lost. I know not where to walk, what direction to take. Having contemplated the frightening motion of losing myself in the forest for but a minute, something strange happens: Suddenly all the sounds stop. It is as if my hearing is lost, or some unseen power mutes the music of forest life. Then, a trembling penetrates my being, along with a deep and resonating roar. It takes me little time to realize that a stampede of forest animals is charging somewhere very near. Not just near, they are heading towards me! I can see the first of them now, stags running alongside a pack of wolves, followed by a flight of birds. I am frozen with fear, standing firm in my place, eyes closed. They are approaching now, I can feel it from the trembling of the ground. They are going to kill me, I know it! I can feel their bodies brushing my sides, their thrashing blowing my hair. They are passing just by me, and I can’t help but wait for the collision to come. But it is not so. The trembling and the crushing sound of their hooves and paws diminishes with every passing second, and by the time I open my eyes they have passed me by. Some moments for calming is all I allow myself before I begin anew my journey. Not knowing which direction I should head for, I choose west.

 

My sight changes… a huge plain lies in front of me. The forest is but a shade of green in the distant horizon. I see some farmhouses again; the picture of my own, unasked, uncalled, invades my mind. And there, I stop and weep for all the things I have left behind. But there is no time to lose. The boy is waiting for me. And he has been waiting for so long… I seek shelter in a small wooden cabin, and a young lady tells me to come in. She is so beautiful, like my mom. She says that I can sleep there, and first thing in the morning, we are going to look for my parents. Thanking her for her hospitality, I sleep. And I dream again of the boy. I can feel his need, reverberating all around his sleeping form. He seems too small, too frail of body to be eternal…

 

When the sun awakes from his slumber to replace the moon’s pale silver aura with his golden radiance, I am long gone. The days and the weeks pass me by, and I keep my path true. The visions lead me forwards, and I follow without question. I go through many woods and camps, only to find more standing in my way to cross. But I never despair. The need of him drives me to continue. Sometimes, I think of my family again. I hold the little bracelet my mother gave me one day, and my eyes fill with sparkling tears. She used to say that its colour was like my blond hair. But they are so dirty now, after so much time has passed. And tangled. But the boy’s face is there. All I have to do is close my eyes to see his slumbering form. And in his mind I am clean again, and my tiredness is gone, chased and dispersed like the lingering night mist by the cool morning breeze. And I go on.

 

Finally, I arrive at a large kingdom, with many towers spiraling high, towards the blue sky. Its paved roads lead me closer and closer to my destination. A massive castle arises before me. But its huge wooden gates are closed. The boy is somewhere in the keep. I know it so well now. I close my eyes and see his face more radiant than ever. He… he seems to speak to me. His voice is whispering silent and crystal clear at the same time, its unknown meaning filling my being. Opening my eyelids, I behold a miracle! For the gates are now widely open. Dwarfed by its enormity and its magnificence, I make small steps towards its interior, walking past many people. Not one knows what I have come to do, so they do not hinder my way. The sleeping boy had been in our world since its beginning. We were all creations of his dreams. Nobody is permitted to lay eye on him, for the protection of our world. I keep going.

 

Keep going, until I stumble upon the unmoving form of a hideous crone. It is as if her soul is so broken, that not being able to withstand the terrible weight herself, her facial features changed to depict her inner deformity. She is standing in an entryway, blocking my path and her evil, black eyes lock with mine. I feel trapped, not being able to avert my gaze from hers. With a gurgling voice that matches her appearance she tells me that she knows the reason of my coming, and will not permit me from going further into the castle to the sleeping boy. She says I do not understand how much is at stake, and that I have absolutely no clue of how devastating my acts may prove to our world. The passers-by seem oblivious to our presence, for they continue on their present errands leaving us alone; leaving me alone with the old woman who now tries to reach her arms to my neck. Frozen with fear, I make no move to avoid her grasping fingers, and soon she grapples my throat with a strength that fits not to her crumbling form! I… I cannot breathe, and have no power in my arms to evade her suffocating hold. Terrified, I shed tears of agony and pain, of fear and of doom. And then his form appears once again in my mind, giving me strength, lighting my hope anew! My heart beating fiercely inside my chest I ask for his help, so that he redeems me from the crone’s evil. And redeem me he does! I manage to break her grapple, and rush past her into the chamber that she so jealously guarded. I see some stairs in front of me leading down, and I run as I have never done in my whole life, her screaming voice giving me fleeing wings.

 

I am at the bowels of the castle now. I could never remember the way back from the labyrinth I have passed, but I do not care at all. My destination lies in front of me, not behind. I have gone through so many floors I have lost count. But I am getting closer with each step I make. Nobody tries to stop me from reaching the boy, who, from what it seems is in the centre of our world. Perhaps the boy is protecting me, shielding my presence from the eyes of the horrible crone.

 

At long last, I find my self in a corridor with burning torches on each wall, illuminating my way. A small, wooden door blocks my path, and I push with all my remaining strength against it. Slowly, and protesting with a creaking sound, it opens. And I see the boy, sleeping on his golden throne at last! He is at the centre of the room, and his body seems to radiate. Slowly at first, and running later, I take myself but a step from his form. His face is calm, like the vast sea, and his stature as small as any ordinary child. But he is different… So different. With but the merest trembling of his eyes, he dreams yet of another dream. I am bathed in the illumination that originates from his mind, and I can see what it is that he sees. Mist and clouds at first, but very soon they clear, and in their place lays a mountain peak surrounded by the fleeing smokes. As more are revealed, I can see a green plain at its roots, with many trees, little springs and waterfalls of crystal water. I can almost hear them. Then some houses appear. And people. In front of my eyes I see the miracle of a world being born. Or rather, a completely new area being added to our world. There are no words to describe the feeling that consume me… I cry in silent sobs.

 

When I am back in the room, I see a sparkling teardrop coursing down the boy’s cheek. I think that, despite all, he is sad. I can feel it in me now that I am so close… Slowly, reverently, with trembling fingers I reach my hand to his face. I wipe away the tears that mar his perfection. His eyes open slowly –so small a move may it be, but one that changes the look his face bore for a duration as long as time itself- and look deep inside me, filling me with joy! Their clear blue is the most perfect colour I have ever seen in my life.

 

I understand at last. Now that the boy is awake, there is no one left to dream of our world. Without the dreams that created it, it cannot exist. As if to verify my understanding, the room around me starts to become more blurry and insubstantial. All that remain now is an echo of the boy’s dream, distorted and fading. Only his mind is holding the weave of existence together, but he seems to give in with each passing second, welcoming the oblivion that is the only possible future. I can only make out the boy now, amidst the smokes that had once been our world. I feel my eyes watering once more, and the tears nun freely down my face. In waking the sleeping boy, I have doomed our world. I have destroyed what the crone was so jealously guarding. But if that is so, why do I feel a strange joy within my sadness? The boy was trapped in here and I had set him free!

 

“Remember us” I say to him amidst my sobs, and I handle him the small bracelet my mom had given me. Before all is lost in the fog of nothingness, I see his happy face and I smile one last time.

 

* * * * *

 

No, the young man’s hand stirred again! It wasn’t a foul trick of her eyes! Running and full of joy the girl called his parents who were sleeping in the next room. They were a fine couple, even in their late fourties, with their hair beginning to gray and lines of worry marking their foreheads. The other days of the week they had to work, so Kathryn was watching over Michael.

 

It had been over ten years before when that car accident had scarred their lives forever. They had escaped with some minor injuries, but their only son was not so lucky. He had fallen into a coma. The doctors said that it was very unlikely that Michael would wake up. “It would take a very strong will to live and a miracle to wake”, were their exact words. However, his parents never stopped hoping that a better day would eventually dawn.

 

The same day as they had returned home devastated, something else very strange had occurred. A little girl had knocked their door. She was crying, and said that not knowing how, she had found their house. Despite their all-too-fresh pain, they did not overlook the girl in her time of need. They had taken her at a hospital, where the doctors diagnosed that she suffered from memory loss. They waited with her until the Providence arrived, to take her.

 

Many weeks had passed, and the girl had not regained her memory. The process for finding her foster parents had been initiated. Heeding to the girls pleading, they had first called the family that had found her, to find out if they were interested in adopting her. Kathryn had anxiously awaited the outcome of the question. When, finally, the social worker was finished, she was smiling. The couple had accepted to take her in. The little girl’s joy could not be described at the time. She had a family at last. Two parents that loved her and a brother. A brother with whom she passed many hours of the day. She used to talk to him, read him different stories, and bring him the news she had gathered each day. Michael was the centre of her young world.

 

The couple rushed into the boy’s room with Kathryn at their heels. Michael was just opening his eyes and trying to comprehend his whereabouts. His parents, barely able to hold their excitement at bay, were already hugging him. When finally he remembered, a smile lit his face and returned the embrace. Then the little girl’s face and deeds came to his mind in a flash of remembrance, along with the world he had created in order not to be lost forever. This girl had helped him; she had sacrificed everything so that he could live again. “What a strange dream…” he tried to say, but only a weird sound escaped his lips. He hadn’t, after all, spoken in ten years. So strange…

 

But then, his eyes fell to the young woman standing beyond her parents. She was crying tears of joy, and a strange comprehension filled them both. His parents, following his look, begun to explain him about their fostered child. But there was no need to hear them. His eyes were locked to her bracelet, yellow and shinning much like her hair. A bracelet he knew very well…

 

 

 

 

 

Μόλις τελείωσα το editing. Ελπίζω να σας αρέσει, αν και σε μερικά σημεία δε μου αρέσει εμένα, αλλά δε μπορώ να σκεφτώ κάποιον διαφορετικό τρόπο να το δώσω. Περιμένω την κριτική σας.

Edited January 20, 2005 by Elsanor

[Drunk Elf]

Δεν το διάβασα ακόμα αλλά για να προλάβω τον Βάρδο...

Γιατί αγγλικά;

[Elsanor]

Μα αυτό είναι εύκολο! Μου αρέσουν πάρα πολύ σαν γλώσσα και εφόσον είμαι από τους "ηλίθιους" που εφόσον έβλεπαν για ένα μεγάλο διάστημα τη μητρική τους γλώσσα τους να μιλιέται με τρόπο απόλυτα πεζό και αποφάσισαν να προτιμήσουν μιαν άλλη, ξεκίνησα να γράφω στα Αγγλικά. Στη συνέχεια, και εφόσον είδα κάποια κείμενα πραγματικά "χάρμα οφθαλφών" στα Ελληνικά αποφάσισα να προσπαθήσω και εκεί. Όπως και να χει τώρα γράφω πότε στη μία γλώσσα και πότε στην άλλη.

 

Βάρδε μη με βρίσεις πολύ!

[Βάρδος]

Τι έκανες εκεί;!;! Παλιό_______, που νόμισες ότι _________ και ________. Αλλά, βέβαια, αφού είσαι _______, _____, και _______!!! _______ ___ _____!!!!!

 

:-ΡΡΡΡΡΡΡΡ

 

 

 

 

Χωρίς πλάκα: προσωπικά, δε με ενοχλεί σε ό,τι γλώσσα κι αν γράφει ο άλλος, αρκεί αυτό που γράφει να είναι καλογραμμένο στη γλώσσα που το γράφει.

 

 

 

 

Βέβαια, η Ελληνική έχουμε πει, είναι η Γλώσσα των Θεών -- αλλά αυτό είναι άλλο θέμα. :-ΡΡΡ

[Nihilio]

Εμ, ναι, σας έχω πει ότι βαριέμαι τις περιγραφές και μάλιστα στα Αγγλικά; Αν όχι καιρός να το μάθετε και να καταλάβετε το λόγο για τον οποίο διάβασα το κείμενο και δε μου έμεινε τίποτα από την ανάγνωση.

[RaspK]

Απλά υπέροχο (κατ' εμέ, τουλάχιστον )!

[Βάρδος]

Χωρίς πλάκα: προσωπικά, δε με ενοχλεί σε ό,τι γλώσσα κι αν γράφει ο άλλος, αρκεί αυτό που γράφει να είναι καλογραμμένο στη γλώσσα που το γράφει. 

<{POST_SNAPBACK}>

 

Και αυτή είναι μία από τις φορές που κάτι είναι άψογα γραμμένο. Μου άρεσε που ο τρόπος γραφής ήταν ονειρικός, ώστε να αποδίδει σωστά μια ονειρική ιστορία. Επίσης, καλή χρήση του ενεστώτα.

 

 

@========

Κάποιες λεπτομέρειες

 

<<...lighting the place I am.>> She is not a place; she is a human being. "...lighting the place where I am."

 

<<It is as if the woods is a creature by itself>> The woods are, the forest is.

@==============

 

 

 

 

Καλή συνέχεια!

[northerain]

mporo na po oti mou arese arketa, kai h istoria alla kai to grapsimo...well done!

[northerain]

Νεος Προβολεας για σημερα καλα μου παιδια, μια ιστοριουλα του φιλτατου Ελσανορα.Θα ηθελα να δω καποια σχολια σε αυτην την ωραια ιστοριουλα, η οποια ετυχε τρομερης παραβλεψης ακομη και απο μενα(που ειμαι γενικα,σε ολα, τελειος.).Κατι αθλια σχολια περι αγγλικης γλωσσας βλεπω, αν και ο Βαρδος σταθερη αξια.Περα απ αυτα, εγω εχω να πω οτι εχουμε να κανουμε με μια φαντασυ ιστορια, καμια σχεση ομως με κλασικα πραγματακια με σπαθια και δρακους, αλλα πιο θλιβερη(λεμε τωρα), πιο προσγειωμενη, πιο ωριμη μπορω να πω.Μου θυμιζει κατι που διαβασα πριν καμποσα χρονια σε ενα βιβλιαρακι των Εκδοσεων Ωρορα(ελαφρως μονο), σε σεναριο και τροπο γραφης.Ας δουμε λοιπον τα ονειρα του αγοριου...καλη αναγνωση...

 

 

 

Υ.Γ

Οποιος κανει σχολιο για την χρηση αγγλικων, θα τιμωρηθει παραδειγματικα.

/Βιβλιοθηκαριος

Edited January 10, 2005 by northerain

[Throgos]

Πάρα μα πάρα πολύ καλό. Μου άρεσε πολύ. Και μια ερώτηση: Που στο διάολο τα έμαθες αυτά τα αγγλικά;

[Elsanor]

Διαβάζω πολλές νουβέλες.

 

Εντάξει δεν είναι και τόσο καλά ρει. Έχω δει πολύ καλύτερα.

[distaros]

Northerain,η συγγραφέας που ψάχνεις είναι σίγουρα η Τανίθ Λί,μια από τις πιο μελαγχολικές δημιουργούς του fantasy...Και εμένα μου την έφερε στο μυαλό το παραπάνω διήγημα...

Elsanor,

[King_Volsung]

Ωωωω...

 

Ό,τι και να πω Elsanor είναι λίγο...

Η ιστορία... απλά μαγευτική, καθηλωτική, όμορφα θλιμμένη, ονειρική... όπως μ'αρέσει. Ειδικά το τέλος... εντελώς πρωτότυπο (για μένα τουλάχιστον) και φοβερό σαν ιδέα.

Η χρήση της γλώσσας... σχεδόν άψογη (βλέπε παρακάτω).

Ο τρόπος γραφής... άπιαστος...

 

και λίγα λέω.

 

 

Να σου πω όμως τα λαθάκια(?) που πρόσεξα:

I can feel it from the trembling of the ground.

το "from" δεν ξέρω αν είναι σωστό. Ίσως έπρεπε να χρησιμοποιήσεις "by".

only to find more standing in my way to cross.

εδώ δεν καταλαβαίνω τι λες...

 

 

 

 

(ναι, ξέρω... πού το ξέθαψα ε; )

[Elsanor]

Σ' ευχαριστώ πολύ Βολσούνγκιε για την κριτική σου!

 

Το "I can feel it from the trembling of the ground," δεν ξέρω αν είναι σωστό ή αν θέλει "by" αντί για "from".

 

Στο "only to find more standing in my way to cross," αναφέρομαι σε εμπόδια που συναντούσε η κοπέλα. Πιο συγκεκριμένα:

 

I go through many woods and camps, only to find more (εννοώ "woods and camps" πάλι) standing in my way to cross (τα "woods and camps" ).

[Nihilio]

Το ξαναδιάβασα, αυτή τη φορά μέχρι τέλους. Στην αρχή με κούρασε λίγο, αλλά το τέλος πιστεύω με αντάμειψε. Ήταν πάρα πολύ έξυπνο και καλά δοσμένο.

[Orpheus]

Λέω μια βλακειούλα και υπόσχομαι να επανέλθω δριμύτερος (γράφω το πρώτο μου ... κατάλαβες... ;)

 

Mια πιο ευαίσθητη και ατμοσφαίρική σύνταξη ίσως θα ήταν: I can feel it in the trembling of the ground. Είναι πιο ανατριχιαστικό, δεν είναι;

 

 

Οι Μούσες μαζί σου,

-Ορφέας