Dream Catcher

Chapter 1 - Prediction (Part 1)

The room was damp and humid. The lights had burned out ages ago to be replaced by candles
that were no more than puddles of melted wax
running down their holders, leaving the room
dark, but for the starlight that lit it faintly. The
old patterned wallpaper that had once lined the
rotting walls was peeling slowly, hanging down
in strips to the floor. There wasn't a ceiling, and
as it always had, the roof was open to a sky of
millions of shining stars twinkling in the velvet
night. The floor could not be seen, covered by a
thick layer of gray dust that clung to every other
even surface in the room as well. In the centre
of the room stood a bright, round, wooden
table. It took up most of the space in the
otherwise empty room, carved with intricate
swirling patterns down the legs and around the
edges as though the wind had froze in the table.
It was stained a deep chocolate brown that
matched the twelve chairs that stood around it,
carved with the same swirling pattern. Their
backs stood tall in the deserted room, frozen in
the moment.
But moments pass quickly, and in the next
moment a slight cool breeze blew down through
the open roof, knocking to the ground one of
the grand chairs. Then suddenly, in the
following moment, a patch of dust on the floor
billowed upward in a little cloud, settling to the
sides of the small patch that had been cleared.
In the instant afterwards, a brilliant, glowing,
electric blue ball of light appeared above the
cleared patch and a figure slowly began to
materialize in the shadows within the sphere.
The figure was human in shape, though it was
short. Slowly, the electric blue sphere began to
disappear, melting away into thin air, to reveal
a short man with spiky blond hair, tipped with
blue. On the blood red sash tied around his
waist hung a lethal machete, glittering in the
soft starlight. His deep brown eyes scanned the
room and he huffed.
"You'd think we'd keep the room a little
cleaner," he muttered to himself as he stepped
through the dust and turned the fallen chair
upright. He grimaced as the dust on the chair
stuck to his fingers. He sighed, closed his eyes,
and then blew out a deep breath. When he
opened his eyes, the dust was gone. Squinting,
he walked over the closest candle stand, curled
his hand around the candle and pulled his hand
up. The candle reformed as his hand flashed
past the melted wax. He curled his pinkie finger
and a wick popped out of the top if the candle
stick. He blew on it and the wick burst into
flame. The room took on a slightly orange tinge.
He walked to the other candle stands and
proceeded to do the same. Slowly, the room
began to light up and cast gauntly shadows on
the peeling wallpaper.
"I never liked that paper," he muttered again to
himself, staring at the walls. He stared at it, and
focused intently. The walls shuddered and
shook, then with a slight 'pop' and a little flash
of green light, the walls were flush and painted
a soft eggshell white. The room brightened
instantly.
"Much better," he agreed to himself.
His boots clicked on the old wooden floor as he
walked toward the table. He grabbed the
swirling top of a chair, spun it around on one
leg, and then sat in it as he returned it to all
fours. He leaned back on the chair and put his
feet up on the table.
Just as the man was starting to get impatient
waiting for the rest of the Gathering, the air
across from him shivered slightly. Ever so
slightly in fact that if the man wasn't looking for
it, he wouldn't have noticed it at all. Suddenly, a
few feet higher in the air than the man
expected, an electric blue orb appeared and
another human-like figure began to materialize
within it. Slowly, the ball of light melted away,
and the man who had appeared looked down at
his feet.
"Shit. Not again," he said as he fell out of the air
and landed with a splat on his stomach on the
floor. He picked himself up off the ground and
started to dust himself clean of dust that was
clearly not stuck to him. The man at the table
just shook his head.
"Good Lord, Luke! Will you ever learn?" The
man at the table studied Luke as Luke gave him
an expression that showed he was clearly not
impressed. His eyes were deep set and large, but
they shone a curious jade. Luke took two steps
toward the table, but tripped on some invisible
object and almost hit his forehead off the table,
but he managed to catch himself in time. The
man at the table laughed out loud. "I can see
why they picked you." He continued to chuckle.
Luke couldn't help smiling. He shrugged his
skinny shoulders. "That's me, Stephen!"
The two men sat at the table in silence.
"Where the hell is everyone?" Luke finally had
to ask after a painfully long five minutes.
"I have no idea. I was about to ask myself the
same thing before you showed up." Stephen
said. But they didn't have to wait much longer.
Less than a few seconds after Stephen had
spoke, two twins appeared in the same fashion
as the men. They were dressed in long flowing
robes, navy blue and patterned with glittering
yellow stars and swirls. On their heads they
wore pointed caps that flopped over to one.
"I hear Demitri has had a prediction." The twins
spoke simultaneously, almost robotically.
"It is what we've been told." Stephen informed
them coolly. But Luke was almost jumping out
of his seat as the twins floated gracefully and
took seats next to Stephen.
"Are... are they..." Luke stuttered frantically.
"Yes, Luke." Stephen responded calmly. "They
are Sandmen. The very finest. Their names are
Inzanagi and Rangi."
"Nice... nice to meet you." Luke stammered
again his eyes now glued to the grains in the
table.
The four did not have to wait much longer for
the others. Soon two more Sandmen appeared
who looked like clones of the twins. Just after
that, one by one, three other men showed up.
The first was named Tony Flint, but people just
called him Flint for short. Flint was very
muscled with short cropped black hair and a
dazzling smile which he displayed for Luke
when he told him how many explosives he
could store in his knee high boots.
The second man to appear was named Nick,
though, much to Nick's dismay, he was rarely
referred to as a man, but as a boy. Scarcely
breaking the age of fifteen, the boy was quickly
ignored by the others. But he captivated their
attention when he reminded them of his quick,
witty intelligence.
Finally the third man appeared. Never did his
bare feet touch the floor. He floated there in
mid-air, just above the seat of the chair, legs
crossed, eyes closed. According to the Sandmen
who read the brainwaves he emitted, his name
was Travis.