The Dreamer's Curse

The Realm's Tricks

[Chapter 7]

The sun had set as we huddled next to Great grandpa Samuel's fresh grave. I stood next to Grandma Caroline, her head on my shoulder.

"He began to dream again," Grandma whispered as his coffin sunk into the earth. "He was in hysterics for the past few months."

I began shifting uncomfortably beside her. "Grandma Caroline, I–"

"I know, Jane, I know," she cut me off. "It's not your fault."

"But, Grandma, he's gone!"

"As is my husband, as are our ancestors. Yes, we mourn, and no, we rarely do get over it, but it happens. Death does not always need a reason, nor should we always cast blame. Life is much more complex than a cause and an effect."

"Grandma..."

She gave me a sad smile. "There is much we need to talk about, Jane, preferably before you go back to your dream." I gave a faint nod as the undertaker was piling soil onto Great grandpa Samuel's grave. "Now, onto Joe," she chirped.

I felt my heart flutter absently. "He says he's scared of you," I said.

"As he ought to be! He's dreadful with conversation, dear, but then again, so was your Great grandpa Samuel – until the Curse was lifted off him, of course."

I barely had time to ask what she meant, for in that moment, Papa whisked her away to talk of other things.

Grandma Caroline did not speak to me about the Curse until after dinner. Joe was up for a late night stroll when Grandma Caroline called me over. "Jane, won't you come chat in my room?" I caught Joe's disappointed grimace before Grandma pulled me away. She shut the door behind us and ushered me to the couch in front of her fireplace. She folded her hands on her lap and stared at me intently.

"Grandma Caroline, you're being rather cryptic," I said, shifting in my seat.

"Darling, your father is too shell shocked by the weight of the Curse being lifted off his shoulders to talk to you about it, much less advise you on its evils. You see, my father, Samuel – your Great grandpa – couldn't seem to cope with being a Dreamer. At first, well, he stumbled through it. He tried to get by, day by day. Then one day, he hatched a plan to outsmart the Curse. He thought he was clever, you see, for he was a well read sort of fellow," she paused. Her hands were shaking. "But the realm – the dreams, they began to change him. He went from this timid good-natured young lad to this arrogant young man. Of course, soon later, he went on and on about world domination. I don't know how my mother ever agreed to marry him, but I'm glad she did, definitely.

"He changed so much, in fact, that my mother hardly recognised him a few years after they got married. He got sucked into his dreams because he wasn't keeping watch of himself. The realm makes us do terrible things, Jane. It leads us to our weaknesses to show us how vile and wretched we truly are. Whether we turn into the vile and wretched versions of ourselves is based on how we react to the dreams.

"My father was always tempted with power, and the realm handed him the opportunity on a silver platter. He became some sort of a ruler, a monarch of some sort. It didn't stop there. The realm then tempted him with fear – fear of losing his position. He fell into the Curse's trap, and he became vicious. He turned mean, he did.

"I believe he went on a killing spree in his dreams, for even in his waking moments, he would talk about the realm, and about how he had squashed another rebellion, and about turning our world into one like his. When the Curse was transferred, Father became much more pleasant, naturally, but it took a while."