Dreams are peculiar things. They’re there, painted upon the canvas of your mind like some half conscious life, but more often than not they quickly fade into nonexistence. In life within a life, full of charged emotions such as fear, love, awe, horror, and inspiration, we often seem to dream about one of two things. Our greatest fears, or what we hope to be our most glorious triumphs.
Tonight like many many nights before it I dreamt of the latter. It began in that mysterious yet strangely familiar forest, The Dark Wood; a vast coniferous thicket stretching out beneath my home on the mountain side. I was walking down the dark path beneath the canopy I so often visualized during the slower points of my day. It was cool, but not in an unpleasant sort of way. I could feel the soft, wet dirt and soggy wood chips beneath my feet, and took in the plethora of living smells that drifted around me like the mist rising up from the early morning ground. I drank in the scent of growth. It was calm, refreshing, and at times just as drinkable as water from a cool spring’s brook. I let it all sink in for a moment, and then, like a thousand times before, I turned my sights toward the sky.
Ah, yes. The sky. That’s where my dreams truly lay. That wonderful soaring sea, stretching on above the green curtains that seemingly held the forest floor to the earth. Wild and blue, with small white apparitions drifting steadily across the hemisphere. They often made shapes, odd and beautiful. There stood a snowy ship drifting across the turquoise ocean. Above that was a mighty king, standing tall amongst his noble knights, all clad in alabaster. Past them sat a smiling child, staring down at me with the same intent and wonder which I watched back. How I longed to be up there, sailing upon the ivory ship, standing proudly at the side of the pearlescent king, frolicing amongst the sapphire plains with the chalky child. And so, with a gleeful smirk, I willed my fantasy into being.
My feet left the damp forest floor as I pushed through the infinity of green in my pursuit of a better color. Up and up I rose. Higher. Faster. I watched the colossal peaks of snow capped mountains recede into the distance to the earth from which they rose. Laughter bubbled up from within my chest. A smile was plastered across my face. The clouds slowly grew closer. I reached a hand up in greeting. I was almost there. Closer the clouds came. I was taken by an elated euphoria. Even closer now. I was going to touch the sky! I could hear my heart beating in my ears. It drummed out a rhythm, louder and louder. What I didn’t expect was for the sound to become unbearable. And soon it did, painfully reverberating deep into my ears. I flinched, clamping down hard on the sides of my head, trying to make the sound go away.
Suddenly, I was awake. My eyelids were heavy, my head was slow, and my extremities felt like lead, but my ears, my ears still rang, filled with the knock of knuckle on wood. I willed myself to sit up in an attempt to see if I could address the problem and find a release back into my unconscious flight.
“Alyssa? Are you there Alyssa? Mrs. Alvara said that you were still in bed!” Called the excited tones of a certain Jack Orlowe. I groaned, and then flopped back down, deep into my furs.
“Alyssa? Is that you? Alyssa?”
“Goddammit Jack! Yes! It’s me! Who were you expecting? Caelus? What is it?” I retorted, eyes closed tight in denial of my arousal. “What time is it anyway?”
“Three hands past dawn. Your mother told me that you should be up now anyway.”
I groaned. “And the day?” I inquired drowsily.
“It’s Seventh-day.”
Well, at least that was cheerful news. “And what in heaven's name do you want with me?”
“It’s Ivan. He said he found- another.”
“Another what?”
“Another way.” And just like that, my eyes flew open, and all weariness ran from my mind as rabbits before a hawk.
“You mean?”
“Yes.”
“One minute.”
“I’ll be waiting outside.” He finished. I listened to the patter of his footsteps recede down the oak-floored hall before springing out from underneath my covers. I paused for a moment to observe the dust drift lazily around the room, illuminated against the pale morning sunlight filtering through the latticework window next to my bed, before throwing on a pair of short cut pants and a sensible roughspun cloth gown fitted with a heavy leather belt at the waist. I then proceeded to loosely tie my annoyingly flat, mouse brown hair behind my head with a length of burgundy ribbon, and pulled on a pair of boiled-leather boots before grabbing a coil of rope and throwing myself out the bedroom door.
On my way out I tripped over my own feet, smacking into the white stucco wall that stood across from my door. I stood for a moment bent over and muttering curses under my breath during my recovery while I ran one hand over the grainy texture of the accursed surface, before picking myself up, straightening my back, and continuing my march onwards down the hall at a more cautious pace. It didn’t take me long to abandon discretion again as I took the meager staircase at the end of the hall with a leap, ended in a resounding thud, and rushed out into the kitchen that lay before me.
I crossed to the front door, grabbing and donning a long leather coat and a worn out satchel on the way, stuffing the rope into the latter. I then reached for the exit with the intent of yanking it open and dashing gleefully out into the world, when I caught something out of the corner of my eye. I whipped around to face the spectre and froze defensively in my tracks.
“And where may you be going in such a rush?” Interrogated my mother, a willowy woman at the tender age of thirty nine, her right eyebrow in an inquisitive arc above her hazel eyes.
“Oh, nowhere really. Just out with some friends.” I sidestepped impishly, shoulders razed in a tense shrug, trying desperately not to make eye contact.
“You seem to go an awful lot of nowheres. Where would this one be?
“The Orlowes- want my help- with chores. So the Orlowes?” I expertly lied, eyes darting around the cozy room lined with intricately carved wood furnishings and a plethora of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling. My daft explanation and innocent grin didn’t seem to be convincing her. She sighed resignedly, lowered her arms from the cross they’d occupied, and wooden pestle in hand turned back to her herbalism, auburn hair falling in curls down her back.
“Just be back before dinner. And don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want to catch you climbing that cliff again!”
“Yes mom!” I complied with an eye roll, before snagging an apple out of the fruit bowl that stood on the counter next to the door that I now strode through with anticipation at the forthcoming advent. She certainly wouldn’t be catching me climbing the cliff this time. Or at least not the same one, I mused maniacally.
Covering my eyes with my sleeve to protect from the sudden glare of the brilliant morning sun, I stopped for a moment to take in the autumn day. The village was set upon a series of grassy ledges thousands of feet above a forested valley, filled with dark evergreens. Being so high up made us susceptible to an early winter, evident by patches of melting snow scattered across the orange tinted grass, and a multitude of glossy icicles hanging from the tops of thatched roofs and titian vines that wound their way up the plethora of sheer bluffs that many of our simple hovels were set into.
“Took you long enough.” Jack commented as I awoke from my momentary daze.
I rolled my eyes as I approached the low wall which he casually reclined against. “Oh, yes. Because thirty seconds is totally a record for tardiness. Let’s go Jack-ass. We haven’t got all day.” I retorted, striding past him in a confident sort of manner, determined to make good time to this new avenue Ivan had discovered. But then- something was nagging at the back of my mind, and I gave pause before turning around with a hesitant sigh to shoot a death glare at jack’s smug grin.
“Where're ya goin’ so fast, Aly?” The bastard gloated.
“Fuck you. Where is it?” At this he gave a taunting laugh before prancing off in the exact opposite direction. I followed in a wicked flurry of muttered curses.
Off we went. Through the center of the worn down town and across the ramshackle marketplace with it’s simple wares, dreadfully aged keepers, and tattered multicolored awnings. We continued beneath the long rickety ladders and delicate nest several miles out of town that held the valuable eggs that incentivized such a precarious livelihood. From there we strode down short ridges, across walls of jumbled stone and dirt, up steep, sandy embankments, and down short rocky drops. It was slow going, even for the experienced. Any more hurried of a pace and ankles would have been broken for sure. Halfway through we stopped for a short break, and threw an apple core down the sheer and perpetual cliffs, into the ever present valley miles below. Finally, after what must have been an hour, we were there and Ivan Orlowe was waiting for us, legs crossed in a lethargic position, sprawled across an old rotting log.
Jack, always eager, sprinted ahead in greeting while I stopped to catch my breath from the journey, and surveyed what was to be our trialing ascent. We were beneath a sheer wall of solid tan stone, graveled with many outcroppings and potential handholds. I was surprised that it wasn’t taller, and decided that our arduous hike must’ve already covered a great deal of altitude. It’d at least explain why my head seemed to be swimming. But the wall was hardly the important part. What was above the five hundred foot drop was what we were looking for. It led to the craggy peak of the mountain itself, extend another hundred feet into the sky like a rusty knife held in a giant’s fist.
My heart fluttered with elation. Ever since I was young, I had seen the clouds drift above us. I never knew why it was decided, nor did I know why I pursued it so fervently, but I always wanted to touch those clouds. Perhaps it was because that the mountain on which we lived more often than not reached up to rake it’s lonely appendage across the ever present blankets of white which made their way up from the sea, guided by the cradle of the valley. Perhaps I was jealous of the great size and power of greatest consistency of my life. Perhaps it was simple destiny. I didn’t know, nor did I care.
With no small amount of effort I pulled myself away from my magnetic attraction to the heavens to size up my accomplices. The similarity of the two brothers had always held my curiosity. Only two years apart in age, they both sported the same narrow jaw, messy light-brown hair, and sharp hazel eyes. The only discernable difference was the stubble that shadowed Ivan’s jaw, and Jack’s excitable persona to contrast the calm and sleepy ideology Ivan lived by. Although they were not the perfect minions perchance, they were the only ones willing to help me in my pursuit of my idealistic obsession.
“It took the two of you long enough!” Ivan called out to me as I approached.
“Well to begin with, your route sucks!” I shot back. “And it also might have helped if Jack hadn’t gotten us lost half a dozen times.”
“I did not! It was only one or twice! I swear!” Jack returned, hands raised defensively.
“Is this it?” I questioned, choosing to ignore jack as he rambled on in the background in a futile attempt to prove his innocence.
“Yup. It took me quite a while to find a way to get to it, considering it’s on the other side of the mountain, but I’ve known it was here for quite some time.”
“Quite a climb.” I whistled as I entered the shadow of the wall in preparation.
“The best we’ve got.”
“True enough. Jack! Quit your bumbling and get your ass over here! We haven’t got all day!” He begrudgingly obeyed whilst muttering under his breath. I tossed him the rope from my satchel, as I donned a pair of worn out climbing gloves.
“What’s this for?” He asked.
“Don’t be an idiot. You know what that’s for.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Then kindly ask your brother about the finer points of the rappel system.” Jack glared at me.
“Well, we tie it to each-other’s waists in a line,” Ivan began sarcastically whilst he prepared himself, “So that if one of us falls, either the other two catch her, or we all die.”
“I get it, you bastard. I get it.” Jack griped.
“Woah!” I interjected with a sudden realization. “What do you mean by ‘Her’?” to which Ivan chuckled with a devilish smile, tying the line around himself. Five minutes later, we were ready. As obnoxious as he was, and as much as we’d like to have left him behind, we weren’t ignorant to the fact that Jack was the best of us at this business, so we let him go first. I got the middle because although I was still a considerable climber, I wasn’t exactly the most athletic gal on this side of Andalia. As the strongest, Ivan was the last, there to catch someone should they fall. At least that was the theory which we lived by, scaling the jagged rock. Up and up we went, taking breaks to recover our strength wherever there was a ledge sizeable to rest on. It soon became dizzying to look down, so I abandoned that pursuit, opting instead to focus on the wall above me, and beyond that, my sky. It took the better part of the day to finally get to the top, but before long, we were there. It hardly seemed real.
Jack scrambled up first, and wasted no time hauling us up by the rope, which we were quick to discard giving in to the aching urge of our now bruised hips. We weren’t quite at the very top, which extended several tens of meters above us, but that didn’t matter. We were high enough. I cautiously approached the edge to glance down, and immediately wished I hadn’t. My heart jumped, and skipped a beat, and I was struck by a sudden sense of nausea and panic that sent me reeling back from the edge, and out of the fingering grip of the chilling breeze. I heard the brothers chuckle, cursed them out, and tried again. This time around, I managed to hold myself there. I could see everything.
Out into the great beyond stretched valleys filled with dark green, and winding blue rivers. Beyond that were too many mountains to count, many of them higher than my own. But once again, that didn’t matter. It was a rare day when our mountain was bypassed by the clouds which I sought. But unfortunately that didn’t mean it was constantly bathed in white. Sort of like now.
“No clouds.” I stated abjectively.
“Apparently not.” said Ivan with a shrug. “I suppose we chose a bad day?”
“So now what?” inquired Jack.
“Well we’re sure as hell not leaving.” I stated adamantly.
“So then we wait.” Decided Ivan.
And so we did. The hours of the day passed us by in tedium. Many clouds trailed decently close, but all of them were far out of reach. The sun began its slow descent to the east, and the bottom of the valley. Soon the sky which had been such a stark blue was stained with the slow red of evening, but still we waited. I was not about to back down now. Not when I was so close.
We didn’t notice at first, quiet in our sullen impatience, but then there was a shadow, and before us lay a cloud. Huge, white, fluffy, it came straight for us. The excitement returned to my heart and I let out a cry. This was it! A moments worth of observation later, and I noticed that it was too high. Barely higher than the top of the spindly peak. Avid and infuriated, I went for it, clambering up the loose stones on the way to the very top, paying no heed to Ivan’s call of warning. A moment later, I was there, crouching to keep my balance upon precarious footing, no longer shrouded from the eastward wins by rock. I reached for it, but the airy fingers of the gale pulled at my clothes and I wobbled in my stance before coming back down to my crouch. I realized that the cloud was quickly moving on. I couldn’t let this happen. With a cry of frustration I lept in a moment of defiance in the face of nature. I jumped for it.
Blinded by my stubbornness, it took me a moment to realize my mistake, but by then it was far too late. The already persistent wind took hold of my loose garments, and plucked me into the air. For an instant, I was soaring above the world- but that didn’t last long. For a moment I was suspended in midair. That didn’t last long either. I then plummeted toward the earth below me, the final alarming cry of my friends ringing in my ears. This freefall, I knew in my newfound terror, wouldn’t last long either. One way or another, I’d find my way back to the terrestrial surface I belonged.
Down I plummeted. I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but stare in horror at the fate I had doomed myself to. My heart was caught in my throat. By way of my direction, I knew I would pass my home, in all likelihood too fast for anyone to notice. The thought of the unbearable experience that watching the ground come up to meet me would bring to bare fluttered across my mind, so with some degree of difficulty, I turned myself over to stare back at the sky. A last moment of pitiful comfort as I felt the atmosphere around me thicken as I lost altitude.
No life flashed before my eyes. There was no light at the end of a tunnel. I heard no angels singing in immaculate choruses. No. My passing was only marked by the roar of wind in my ears. By the sudden and sickening crunch of every bone in my body shattering into a million pieces amongst the moss and pines which I now laid. By the cloud, stained black by the shadow of the mountain in evening angles, floating across my darkening vision. And the pain. The pain was there only for a moment, but in that moment it was unbearable. But even an unbearable pain was better than the darkness that took no time to fester on the edge of my consciousness. The world faded to black, and I knew there would be no return.
I don't know what happened to the formatting on this piece, but the top is all scrunched up together.
Writing about dreams is cool, but i foudn this work was a bit confusing because you couldn't really tell if it was fact or fiction right at the beginning. I like it, don't get me wrong, just look at the change.
This: [quote]Dreams are peculiar things. They’re there, painted upon the canvas of your mind like some half conscious life, but more often than not they quickly fade into nonexistence.
To this: “Quite a climb.” I whistled as I entered the shadow of the wall in preparation.
“The best we’ve got.”
Also, your work is really long and towards the end you're starting to wonder if it ever will end. I feel like this could be split into two parts which are linked and could make a really interesting story. For me, it was WAY too much to digest in one sitting.
Alright....Dreamer here for a review,
you have a very great narrative here...but I for one wouldn't consider it a narrative. It just doesn't strike me as one.
I really enjoyed your wording it was very captivating. In a few places I felt as though the sentences were too long (I copied one of them as an example) ¨wet dirt and soggy wood chips beneath my feet, and took in the plethora of living¨ again nice wording but I feel as though there should be a period between FEET and TOOK. you should also get rid of , and because it just makes the sentence longer and like I said before I felt like your sentences were too long.
In some places in the story it looked like you randomly/accidentally kept hitting the bold key because in (what seemed like random to me) places there was bolded text and it threw me off.
OH I just read the genre once again and I saw more into the extent of it. I still think you shouldn't have put Narrative though.
Overall you have a wonderful chapter and a great story. Good job, Good luck, and Keep on writing
Thanks for the review! Also, I'm kinda sorry about the formatting. I do all of my writing on google docs, and the transfer it over and it gets all jumbled in the transition. I tried to fix it but there wasn't much I could do.
thats okay and good job you really have a great novel going for you