I lay sleeping, a dream so terrible, haunting my heart and soul as I felt my mortal body trembling. Death is soon I fear . . . I am losing the desire to remain here any longer . . . there is nothing left for me in this place.
I feel someone calling me forth from my nightmare and I struggle to awaken as I leave the dream behind me. When I open my eyes, Aunty is there before me, a worried look etched into her creased face.
“You do not look well.” I hear myself saying to her, for I still have not completely left my dream behind. “You are troubled, Aunty.” I mummer and Aunty pauses, struggling for a reply as her eyes search me. Finally she lets out a soft cough. It is dry and meaningless, a lie to deceive me.
“I am not well, my child, not well enough to care for you any longer. You will be going away for a while, only until I am well enough to take care of you once again.” It is a lie she speaks, I can tell deep inside me. But I understand that she is lying to me for my own sake, in hopes that one day I will be healed. She has sacrificed her life away for me . . . and I am sorry for that, for what is the point in my existence? There is none.
“Then I will return and care for you when I am stronger myself, Auntie. Do not worry about me.” I speak softly, knowing with every word I am playing into her lie.
She smiles fondly. “There’s a good lad.” I return the smile as she picks me up gently. I reach for my crutches yet she stays my hand.
“Where you are going, you won’t need these. When you return to me . . . you can take them back.” I hesitate for a moment . . . aren’t the crutches special in some way, other than that they are my legs? I push the memory from my mind and allow Aunty to carry me out outside into the windy afternoon.
“Tell me the tale of the Castle, Aunty, please . . . ” Aunty smiles sadly.
“I have told you that story many times, Timmy, yet I no longer wish you to go there . . . ” I stare at her. All my life she has told me stories of the marvelous castle and that it should be my only dream in the world to go there. No matter what she says today, I will act as if it hasn’t been said and I will go to the castle . . . no matter what.
“But you said . . . ”
“Hush.” She cuts me off as we hurry onward. “I know of your nightmare, Timmy my boy, but if you go to that castle . . . your nightmare will become reality . . . do you wish to live in a nightmare? Do you want all that to happen?” Biting my lip, I shake my head.
“No . . . I don’t want it to come to pass, Aunty, but I want to be a normal human one day . . . ” Aunty smiles softly at my words.
“That is impossible, Timmy . . . no one, not even the Prince at the Castle of Eternal Sleep, can ever heal your accursed body. I’m sorry, Timmy.” I blink back the tears, refusing to accept her words. I know deep down, no matter what I have to do to attain it, I will one day be healed.
“Here we are, my Dear . . . ” I look up and see a small fountain bowl, the statue that had once stood in the center had been broken long ago and the water is a murky black. I shiver as we near it.
“You’re not putting me in there are you?” I gasp as she comes to stand by the side of the pool. Aunty smiles softly.
“Yes, Timmy, I am placing you in the fountain . . . but you will be asleep, my dear.” And with these words, she places a long nailed finger on my forehead and everything fades out around me as I come to sleep.
I am in my nightmare once again . . . I am walking in eternal blackness, my body not belonging to me . . . walking is awkward . . . for I am trapped in this body, never to be able to freely converse with humans. I am a freak, shunned and hated . . . I try to straighten my hunched form as a light enters the blackness.
I feel my raspy breath inside my chest as the world brightens. I no longer have any arms . . . I do not understand what has taken their place. I look up and notice my vision is much sharper. The pain inside my body lessens slightly as I look around me.
I am in a dark treed forest, the trees tall spears in the sky. The mulch on the ground feels cool to my bare feet and I hobble forward in my accursed body.
“Fly!” I hear someone rasp. I look up dazedly to see an old woman standing there, two dark eyes glittering beneath her heavy cloak.
“Fly, Timmy, fly and be free.” Why is this old hag rambling on about flying? I struggle to pull myself upright and in desperation I flail out and run forward. I am startled as something strange appears in my vision and I fall back to the earth.
They were wings.
“Wake up, Timmy.” My eyes are forced open and I long to close them at the brightness of the room. Everything is white and sterile, the acid scent burning my nose.
A woman stands beside me and by her appearance I can tell she is a witch. She smiles gently at me and helps me sit up. I stare at my arms to make sure . . . I am still a human boy.
I shiver at the remembrance of my dream, the feeling of being trapped forever and not being able to do anything about it.
“You had your dream again, didn’t you?” the witch asks softly. I nod.
“Where am I?” the woman smiles.
“My name is Esmeralda. You are at my house. I care for sickly and injured people like you.” I nod . . . so this is where Aunty sent me.
“Is there anyone else here?” I ask suddenly as the overpowering longing for company fills me. Esmeralda nods.
“There is a young woman . . . she is older than you . . . but if you wish I believe she would enjoy your company as well.” I nod again and Esmeralda disappears for a moment. I can hear her murmuring across the room to another patient.
After a few minutes I hear the squeak of a wheel chair and Esmeralda appears pushing a young woman before her. The lady is probably twenty at the oldest and her face is white and almost sickly, her blue eyes sunken in and yet flickering with life.
“Hello, Timmy.” Her voice is pale and soft, and yet it is beautiful. I attempt a smile.
“Hello . . . I apologize . . . I don’t know your name.” The woman smiles as Esmeralda leaves her beside my bed in the chair.
“My name is Stella . . . I am here because I am getting treated for paralysis, my body was becoming paralyzed and Esmeralda is healing it.”
I begin to tell her my own story, and so the days passed like this.
Stella spent a lot of the day beside my bed talking of her life and I mine. We grew to become fast friends over the many moons we were together and I almost came to think of her as a mother to me, she was so kind and gentle.
But after a year of being together Esmeralda came to me one morning and told me that she had passed away. Sometimes it was as if I sensed Stella nearby and it felt so real I could swear she was alive yet . . . I never saw Stella again.
A lone bird, predator of the sky, flew through the grey, dusky clouds, the sinewy wings carrying him silently through the depressing precipitation as it dampened his grey flecked feathers. The gyrfalcon watched over the land carefully, searching for any sign of movement that might hint at prey.
A rabbit stirred from the underbrush and the bird waited patiently, his shadow hidden since the sun was surrounded by swathes of clouds. The rabbit took a tentative hop forward, its nose twitching with anticipation as the falcon let out a long shrill cry and dove toward the rabbit.
With a squeal of fear and pain the rabbit lay still, warm blood oozing from the talon marks along its side. The falcon commenced in eating its meal, a feeling of pride knowing that he could care for himself. He needed no one and that was fine with him.
As he ate the tender meat, a distant memory stirred at the back of his mind. Was this how it had always been? He wondered on it as he kept a watchful eye out for other hawks or land crawling predators but he sensed nothing.
Had he always been king of the sky? Flying effortlessly through his territory, seeking food and the warm sun on his back? Again the memory pressed and his golden eyes blinked slowly as he contemplated the meaning of such a thing.
Humans? He despised humans . . . didn’t he? He left the rabbit and flew to a nearby pine, his crop well filled yet his mind unsettled. No . . . there had been a time . . . long ago in his memory . . . he had been with humans . . .
He caulked his head sideways. Yes . . . he had traveled with them then left . . . he had not been a prisoner there . . . and he had returned to the one . . . several times . . . Why? The falcon wondered, had he longed for human comfort?
The memory formed in his head. The first time he had ever seen that human . . . he had been in a white room . . . he had been a human? No . . . that was impossible.
But it had been so, he had been a human then . . . that’s when he had met this young man, the one he felt so close to, that was why he had returned to him. He now remembered the connection he had always felt with the human man who had rescued him when he had been trapped in a human soul . . . but how had he become who he was?
The falcon shook his head as he took to the skies once more. His memories, now stirred and awaken, bothered him greatly.
“Timmy.”
A soft voice summoned him from the forest floor below. Had that been his name once? Timmy? Yes . . . he believed it had been. He banked sharply to the left and fluttered down to the lowest branch of a large tree.
The tree grew at the edge of a small leaf filled forest. The clearing was home to many small creatures for it housed a small dip in the earth floor and held water, creating a much needed habitat for the animals of the forest.
The falcon caulked his head as he stared at the shimmering pool below him. It did not reflect the dull sky above him yet shown with a reflection entirely it’s own.
“Timmy.” The voice was stronger now . . . it was the voice of a human girl. Timmy looked about and suddenly slipped into his human form before climbing down the tree’s trunk. He had refrained from turning into a human form for so long he had almost forgotten how. Now that he was a human though, memories flooded back into him.
“Timmy, do come over to the pool please, I’d like to see whom I am talking to.” The voice was that of a child’s and held an underlying impatience as Timmy crept closer to the pool.
As he looked into the water, he found himself staring at a young girl. Her eyes had a strange animal like appearance and her flowing red hair resembled fire. Timmy thought he recognized her from somewhere and yet he couldn’t be sure.
“Who are you?” Timmy asked worriedly, knowing that it wasn’t normal for people to pop up at drinking holes like this. He scowled. “And what do you want?” the girl scowled back, her odd eyes taking Timmy in with a single glance.
“I’m Skye . . . I can’t tell you any more than that . . . but I need you to help me. Do you think you could do something for me?” Skye asked worriedly, noticing the feral look in the boys eyes. Mr. Gordon had warned her that this was possible and yet she knew she had to try her hardest.
Timmy leaned back to squat on his feet as he contemplated the situation. A human needed his help. He had been wild so long he was weary of humans even after regaining some of his memories.
“Such as?” he asked coyly, his eyes never leaving the pool. Skye glared at him before sticking out her lower lip and pouting.
“I want you to go to Sean.” Timmy stared at her. Sean? Where was that? Timmy had never really placed the human names on the areas they claimed to be called such. Sean . . . he had no idea.
“Sorry, where’s that?” he asked innocently, infuriating Skye even further.
“You’re very conceited!” She laughed. “I can’t believe you don’t even know where Sean is, you used to live there, before coming up here to the Miniature Mountains.” Timmy shrugged.
“I really couldn’t care less, Skye. I mean, what’s in it for me?” Skye scoffed at his words before glaring at him.
“How about your life? If you don’t go there, you will die.” Skye spoke smugly as if she couldn’t care less about his life. Timmy sighed.
“Perhaps I could go . . . what awaits me in Sean?” Skye shrugged.
“Your brother . . . ” Memories flooded into Timmy’s mind as suddenly he remembered who the human being he had kept returning to was. It had been his brother. No wonder he had felt so attached to the human . . . they shared one anothers blood.
“Show me an aerial view and I will go . . . but don’t expect any more of me than that.” Skye grimaced but she nodded.
“You’re not a very willing brother you know. You should be more concerned about your brothers lives too. If you die, Zavier dies . . . you must hurry if you want to reach there in time . . . the world is dying and you are dying . . . I don’t wish to see the world come to an end . . . not yet at least.” Skye muttered gloomily as she summoned a map to appear before Timmy. It was an aerial view of the large town.
“You must travel southeast and through the Forest of Ply and then you will reach this town. Your brother will be waiting for you there.” Timmy nodded as he took in the map with great care. He recalled slowly that he had once lived there and hunted there . . . a few seasons ago. But in his mind, that was ancient history.
“OK then, I’ll go.” Skye’s face reappeared and she was beaming.
“That’s awesome, maybe you’re not so bad after all. Just remember, you mustn’t stop for anything, don’t stay in your human form too long, and never forget who you are.” Skye’s voice faded as the water rippled and once more reflected the grey sky above the tree tops.
Timmy sighed as he turned and lept into the tree, transforming back into a falcon on the way to the branch. He fluffed his feathers up loosely and tucked his head beneath his wing.
The memories he had awoken stirred restlessly in his mind and suddenly, as if a door had been opened, he remembered.
He remembered that day as if it had merely been yesterday. After all, on this day he had made the decision that affected the rest of his life so drastically. He remembered the epic journey . . . they had at last found the castle. The castle had been rather damp yet Timmy had felt at peace there.
There at the castle he had slept . . . When he had awoken he had been greatly surprised to suddenly realize he had been transformed from his warped human body into a majestic falcon. It was his nightmare. The one where he couldn’t walk yet he had wings. His heart beating quickly inside his chest, he slowly spread his wings, knowing that this was how he would remain, for the rest of his life. Living in his nightmare.
