“Run…” Valkyrie’s survival instinct nudged, “Run!” Instantly, and by no volition of her own, Valkyrie dashed to her right as the Nightmare pursued her at barely an arm’s length behind. No exits remained that the Black Ocean had not already clogged, and Valkyrie, as a last resort, ran straight for the huge windows which offered a view of Dreamvale from twelve stories up. Suicide, she reasoned, would be better than whatever existence the Malevolence sought to give her, if indeed she was to die from the fall. Already a plan to trick Death began unfurling in her mind (albeit a simplistic plan, which was the most that one could expect, all things considered).
Now, in Dreamvale, anything that one dreams becomes a reality. Literally. If you dreamt of having a horse, a horse would appear before you. If you dreamt of wielding a sword, a sword would materialize in your hand. If you dreamt of having ginger hair rather than blonde hair, lo! The color of your hair would change before your eyes.
It was therefore Valkyrie’s plan to dream of wings, that she might be enabled to fly to safety. This would not be the first time. She had tried and failed to do so a few times before, in the middle of the night when she was in her most depressed states as a result of her dread for the eventual lack of freedom her life as princess regent would have. Indeed, had she succeeded, she might have flown right over the horizon, bright green with grass, and to who knows where. But her dread was the issue. You see, dreaming is not so simple in Dreamvale. It requires a very experienced dreamer to dream up, say, a house or a vehicle. Wings, too, were a rare sight to see on someone, for they were among the more difficult dreams to dream.
Valkyrie crashed through the window. The Nightmare tried to pursue her even beyond the window, but was forced to retreat when the direct light from the noon day sun burnt it terribly. As she plummeted, she began her dreaming. Wings… she tried to direct all of her thoughts onto that subject. “Give me wings!” she whispered to herself. The dreaming began to work – large flaps of light began emerging from her back, and indeed, she began to float. But the activation was choppy. Her wings would, from time to time, “shut off”, more or less, and she would drop a few feet before Valkyrie fixed the fluctuation in her concentration and began floating again.
Valkyrie would occasionally gaze at the horizon longingly, while she was floating, deeply and passionately desiring to fly over it once more. She now had a great deal many more reasons to escape Dreamvale altogether. On top of the premonition of a restrained life, there was guilt and fear in store for Valkyrie, and nothing would make her happier than to escape the city altogether. But every time this longing began, Valkyrie’s wings would suddenly weaken. This created a serious psychological dilemma within Valkyrie. It seemed that the very reason she wanted wings in fact interfered with her ability to dream them up.
She was forced, therefore, to focus on the present moment. It seemed that only fear and avarice could look ahead; these states of mind are horribly detrimental to the process of dreaming in Dreamvale. In the present, there was potential for better thinking in Valkyrie, such as about dealing with her blunder with integrity. But every time she thought about dealing with her blunder, she slipped into the thinking instead about the blunder itself. Self-hatred would overcome her, and she would plummet for a bit before regaining control of her thoughts.
YOU ARE READING
Nightmares
Fantasy“C’mon,” Flip said to Valkyrie somewhat mischievously (a mood which was wholly inappropriate for the situation at hand), “Let’s open it.” He was referring, of course, to the imposing wooden door which stood before them, some three times Valkyrie’s...
