He Who Weaves Dreams | #ONC2023

6

She was in heaven. Literally. The sky was so blue and the clouds looked soft and fluffy. The sun shone brightly through the spaces between the white clouds.

It was so pretty up here.

But Claire was having a hard time moving. She wanted to scoop the clouds using her hands so much but she couldn't. Nor could she move her legs to bounce above the fluffy-looking mass.

"Hahaha! Hahaha!" She heard a series of laughter. They were kids' voices. Many of them. "Hahaha! Hahaha!"

She searched around, at first seeing nothing but the almost empty sky. Then, she saw naked little boys and girls approaching her. She was expecting them to be cherubs, much like the statues in Palasyo Marilag, with white feathered wings and a halo on top of their heads, but they weren't.

These kids had leathery red skin and they had no halos nor hair on their heads. On their foreheads were two horns, sharp and pointy. Their wings were like those of bats. Their blazing red eyes were trained on Claire's as they laugh at her and encircled her in a kind of macabre dance.

"Claire! Claire! Hahaha! Hahaha!" They were repeatedly laughing and chanting her name.

"Get away from me!" She screamed but the little demons didn't stop.

Their circle was getting smaller. They were inching closer to Claire with every step.

"Stop! Get away from me!"

"Hahaha! Hahaha!"

They wouldn't listen to her. What the heck is this dream? Dream? Yes, she remembered. This was a dream. And she was looking forward to this moment--to dream and finally talk with Keith.

Jonathan Del Monte told her to call him "Dreamweaver" when she needed him. She needed him now.

"Dreamweaver!" she shouted with all of her might. "Dreamweaver, where are you? I need a favor!"

The little demons suddenly stopped dancing and eyed her curiously. She didn't have the time to deal with them so, becoming brave, she casually walked out of their circle.

"Poof!" "Poof!" One by one the devils disappeared into clouds of smoke. The white, fluffy clouds in front of Claire parted and a single red thread appeared on the sun's ray. It was heading directly to the sun where someone sat on a throne.

She knew who he was.

Claire felt like crossing her arms around her chest. "Is he acting like a king or something?" She was thinking but blurted out in her dream. "Did he hear it?"

"I heard it." Jonathan Del Monte stood up and pulled the red string. Claire was standing on it so she got pulled with it. Now face to face, he said, "Dreams lie but dreamers don't."

"H-huh?"

"Your dreams can be anything--your subconscious thought, things you saw, you heard, what you like, what you fear, a past life, or something very random. It doesn't mean it has something to do with you. But the dreamer, oh... The dreamer cannot lie in a dream. Your words will always be the truth. If you're alone, your thoughts remain a thought, but with others--"

"A Dreamweaver or someone who dream hopped?" she supplied.

The boy flashed his white teeth with a toothy smile. "You're right. Your thoughts will be heard."

"And they're always the truth."

"Yes."

"I don't believe you." Claire was sure she just thought that. She immediately clasped a hand over her mouth.

"Now, do you?" He offered her his hand, "Here, my lady. In this dream, I am your knight. With my bow and arrow, I will protect you." He said this with a wink.