The Right Handed Writer

[Hiuknowme]

This is the first night I tried a dream catcher. They say that bad dreams are big enough to get caught in its web, but good dreams slip through easily. I don't know if I can consider this dream a 'nightmare', but it certainly wasn't a walk in the park.

Warning: Some graphic violence.

I belonged somewhere. There's a group of people, led by a wise old man, whom I belong to. Every day, we leave the cave to tend to something. We're always busy, you see. Before the incident, my thought process was slow, lulling, and contented. I'm faintly aware that we're traveling in the woods. I perk up slightly, when we reach what appears to be a witch's home. The entire build is leaning one way or another, and is made of dark purple wood with black trim. The door comes to a point. On the side, underneath a bit of roof extending from the side of the house, is a shrine. The entire thing is perfectly circular stone, light gray bricks touching each other in a circle, with what appears to be misty blue liquid in the center. It's slanted towards the entrance of the 'shrine', so as to give the viewer better access. Something about it draws me, and soon, I begin to hear whispers. They're only barely there, and just as I begin to concentrate on hearing one, it fades and is replaced by another in a different pitch. I don't even realize I'm approaching the shrine until someone calls out to me. I turn, but not quickly enough to avoid falling into it like a pensieve. Just before my everything fades to black for a moment, I see that the shrine has changed from misty blue to a shimmery mirror.

That is the incident. Emerging from blackness, my attention is on high alert. I seem to have landed in the courtyard of a castle. Well, I call it a courtyard, but it's a courtyard without the greenery. The grass has been replaced by dark purple and black stone, and there are gaps in the floor where you could fall into the misty blue-black abyss that surrounds us like a cloud. Ahead, I can see towers and large buildings, with huge geometrical chunks ripped out of it, and in the holes you can see the abyss beyond.

Something hisses and whizzes past the back of my head. I looked back to see an electrically charged orange cloud. It lands on the floor of the castle instead of my face, and leaves a blackened scorch mark. Instantly, I try to locate the source. As a green spell barely misses me, I'm fairly certain I found it. Ahead, a vague black shape darts to and fro, shooting off spells in my direction. Before I know it, I'm shooting off spells too, like it's second nature to me. The black shape and I enter a beautiful dance of blocking, dodging, firing and maneuvering. Eventually, my opponent makes himself scarce. I am unsure whether or not he ran or I took him down, finally. I don't even know what half the bright flashes of light I let loose were supposed to do.

More hissing a cackling of magic reaches my ears now that I'm no longer focused on our duel. Around me, my group of people have landed in various points around the castle as well, and are running for their lives. I flex my fingers, realizing that they didn't know how to shoot a spell like I was doing. The next moments are a blur of getting people to safety, fighting for my life, and saving others. Someone is whispering in my ear, and I turn to snap at them that I'm busy, but no one is next to me. No one on the other side either. I remember that what drew me here in the first place were whispers that I couldn't quite catch, and the notion catches my attention enough to distract me, causing a sharp spell to hit my left arm. Not long after that, I hear the whisper again. 'Come away!' The world blacks out once more.

Instead of waking at the shrine like I would have expected, we landed at the cave at home. Quickly, we organize in a circle. The wise old man stands on a pedestal, and proceeds to insult me and declare that I'm evil. After all, why else did I drag them to the Shrine? And how did I start firing off spells, when they were previously an unknown magic? Evidently, I nearly killed all of them today. Sarcastic retorts make its way from my lips before I can stop them with rational thinking. Out loud, I say, "Alright, so next time some crazy being we've never seen before is attacking you with magic, I'll go ahead and leave you to your own devices, since I'm evil and all, and evil people are only out to save their own skin." Around me, some people shift uncomfortably, doubtlessly remembering that I saved their asses not ten minutes ago, but no one speaks in my defense. Quickly, I shut out the pain of being shunned and alone, in favor of sticking to my sarcasm, which were now restrained to my mind. Wordlessly, the group starts to head inside. I am last, and as I move to head into the door as well, the metal circle slams abruptly, nearly taking off my nose. Perhaps now, I should describe the scene for you. The cave we stay in it hidden under an overhang at the base of a mountain. The overhang forms a sort of rectangle a couple of feet above the ground, and if you slide into the gap, the dirt has been cleared away to accommodate much taller people. Straight ahead, there is a metal circle, like the ones you see on high-security vaults in the movies. That's the door. On either side, there is a messy roundish rectangle full of glass and lit by the warm light of a candle. Both windows show someone I 'nearly killed' today, laughing warmly. I turn away from the scene and face the clouds outside. I sleep out there, cold and wet from the rain. ((Here, I step out of the dream for a moment to pull on the blanket that's slipped off in my sleep. Too late, though. Even if I'm perfectly warm outside the dream, being freezing cold has already become a pattern within it.))

The next morning, it seems to be a typical day. Today, we take our two dogs hunting, a golden lab named Houston, and a chocolate lab named Molly. ((In actuality, these are my neighbor's dogs, who I spent the evening with. I don't know how they ended up in my dream.)) I listen to the wind as the group spreads out to check traps and shoot what they can. I don't help them hunt, since they probably wouldn't feed me anyway- I'm a terrible, evil, creature after all- but I do watch them, and observe my surroundings. The air is crisp, the sky clear, and the trees are all evergreen. I think that suggests a high elevation in a cold climate, but I'm not sure. At the moment, I'm sitting in a tree while someone checks their rabbit trap. They can't understand why they didn't catch anything. A few biting sarcastic jibes at his technique, and he's telling me to do it myself. His round face flushes in anger, and his mustache twitches downward with his frown. It's an amusing sight. I'm not exactly sure what I do, or how I do it, but I feel the tingle of energy in the air as I work my magic. Soon, a brown rabbit hops out of the nearby bushes and neatly steps into the trap. The spell releases with an irritable crackle, and I savor the electric feeling of magic in the air. The man who was doubting me earlier now looks on in wonder at the rabbit I brought him. Going for theatricality, I nimbly slide out of my spot high in the tree, and land on my feet gracefully. "You're welcome." is all I say, as I walk away and flip my hair behind my back.

The rest of the evening I spend with Molly the dog. We creep around in the bushes, watching everyone else's work, and subtly influencing it. A well timed snap at the air from Molly brings a rabbit out of the bushes, right at someone's feet. A subtle shift in the wind ensures that an arrow makes its mark. Small things, really, but it had its effect. Our group met again in a clearing, everyone marveling at their abundance of kill. People are in high spirits now, which means it's time to make my move.

As per usual, we roast our kill in large spits over several different fires. The largest in the center is currently holding a deer and two small rabbits. It's also the fire that the wise old man is seated. Nonchalantly, but directly in the old man's view, I move forward to collect some meat for myself. Just as I predicted, the old man barks at me to back away, loud enough for nearly everyone to at least glance in our direction. I raise both hands in a silent signal of defeat, and move back to sit away from the crowd. Molly gets up to follow me to my seclusion, which I hadn't counted on, but works well anyway. The others have gone from merry cheer to subdued murmurs. Several people, those who noticed my help today, glance towards me uneasily. The wise old man might think he's protecting his people, but his people wonder about his morality in the process. The seeds of doubt have been sown, and it will merely take some well placed action and reaction to get me back in the circle. The fact that Molly, a dog most distrustful of strangers, followed me when I left shall play in my favor as well. I sit against a tree looking slightly sorrowful and shameful, but I'm grinning on the inside.

We make our way home that night, and I'm still left outside in the cold, even if it isn't raining. This time, Molly sticks with me. I'm wondering if this is going to become a usual thing.

Our group moves out early the next morning. Mist hangs in the air without a sun to vanish it. We move through woods on a more southern route, with more leaves painting the ground. Eventually, we arrive at our destination. Two fences, fifteen feet tall at least, converge and leave only a thin pathway. Most worms through, but some simply climb over. Something catches my eye behind me, and I leave the group to check it out.

I move around a tree to see... only Molly. She's staring at me intently, deliberately. I shake off the uneasiness of having an animal stare lasers into your soul, and turn to leave, but just as I was leaving, Molly moves forward. Only a moment later, her legs and torso lengthen, fur fades, and her shoulders pull back and move upwards. Standing in front of me now, is Chewbacca, not my dog Molly. I stare for only a moment, before shaking my head a moving away. After all, I've seen stranger things happen. The crunching of leaves behind me says that she's- he's?- still following me, even after her 'metamorphosis.'

Ahead of me, it's... silent, almost. It seems like our feet on the leaves is the only quiver in the air. I don't even hear the woods or birds anymore. I tred carefully, walking forward between the two fences slowly. Just past my nose, and icy cold followed by a black shape flies past, and then I'm aware of why it's silent. All around, my people are held, wrapped in cloth from the people dressed in black behind them, pressing wandpoints into their throats. ((Anyone think this scene is familiar? Brownie points on who can guess where my subconscious picked this scene up from.)) I throw a spell into the air, and battle begins.

Just like the battle near the beginning of this dream, everything is a blur of protecting, defending, attacking, and capturing. I remember throwing someone out of the way of a bright flash. Blue eyes and dirty brown hair fly past and stares at me open mouthed as I duel the person who nearly killed him. A moment later, I'm flying past and shoved to the ground, as a dull spark of red flies near my left ear from behind. I can only spare the boy a glance to record his identity, and I'm off again. It had been the same one I saved earlier. Not long after that, the boy twisted his hand in just the right direction, and a cloud of purple flew from his palm and slammed bodily into an enemy. My eyebrows shoot upwards in surprise, but I'm soon grinning. This is an exciting development. I get so distracted by it, in fact, that I narrowly dodge a curse flying just under my chin. Eventually, my opponents blast holes into the ground, leading to the abyss like the one surrounding the castle, and ever familiar shifting shape of black, purple, and blue, and flee through those holes. Slowly, the close up behind them, shining with gold around the edges until they close completely.

Everyone simply goes back to gardening like nothing happened. In front of me, a sort of cylinder sticks out of the ground. It's roughly eight or nine feet tall on one side, but brushes the ground on the other, descending and ascending smoothly. The ground around the stone circle raises to frame the crisp stone, but within the circle remains flat, and makes a place to observe the complex runes and symbols on inside of the the grey brick. Dotted everywhere are potted plants, well- trimmed bushes, carefully grooms trees and flowers, tastefully placed around the stone circle. Our group is watering, trimming, rearranging, weeding... At this point, my perspective shifts a bit. We aren't a random group of people living off the land, we're more like a group that tends to a reservation and keeps it usable for both humans and animals. I sit and watch on the side, and quickly grow bored. Gardening has never been my... strong suit.

Wordlessly and in unison, the group finishes their work, and moves out. I stay, on instinct. After the last of them have dissapeared behind the last fenceline, I hear something strange. A whispering voice in my head, smooth as silk and soft. Though I probably shouldn't trust voices in my head, I instantly trust hers. 'I have a task for you. The others, they have the right idea to tend to my shrine, but they are wrong. I look to the plants and trees in confusion. 'You must water the stone itself, not tend to the plants around it. The stone must grow roots into the soil if it is to work properly.' That was definately the strangest part of my dream, but I didn't even have second thoughts or slightest doubts as I did exactly as she asked and watered the stone. Below me, I could hear a great rumbling, as if it were really growing roots as she said. As I finish, my own thoughts whisper goddess to me, as if putting a name to a voice. And then I am on my way, leaving the watering can where I found it.

By running, I manage to catch up with the group before the reach our home. Their home, rather, since I sleep outside. They march in single file, and I feel like an outsider more than ever since Molly/ Chewbacca had disappeared earlier, and would not be joining me this night. I turn and sit down, facing away from the door even before it shuts in my face. I hear it slam, and jump a foot in the air when I hear someone settle beside me. Turning to look, I see a Hobbit with dirty blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes. I've not had the chance to really observe myself or anyone else up close in this dream, and I wonder if we're all Hobbits. The hobbit smiles at me and extends his hand to shake. I shake it, but still eye him questioningly. He says, "They're all idiots. I'd prefer to be outside than stand by a bunch of morons." Now, I recognize him and slap a personality to his face. He's the troublemaker, prankster, and witty sarcasm man. I'm surprised, but I don't say anything beyond and heartfelt thank-you. We lay close to eachother, and I sense that this is how they keep warm even inside the house.

As I fall asleep in the dream, I wake in RL, to find myself completely wrapped and tangled in the blankets, and an arm stretched over the pillow beside me. It's still early, so I simply go back close my eyes again to catch some actual sleep.