Memories (Of Dreams and Demons)

Alia

The next day I wander along a dirt path along the edge of the library, staring up at the clouds, daydreaming. I'm not really heading anywhere in particular, more wandering, seeking.

All night, my parents hadn't stopped yelling at me for leaving the spot by the window. They told me I had spent a good hour or two running and hiding from them in the library, but all I remembered was Naoko and the little secret land we visited together.

I wasn't even sorry; though I repeatedly apologised they knew I didn't mean it. When they finally got their hands on me the punishment was long, and severe. Still, it was worth it. Their harsh words repeat over and over in my head:

You are a naughty little good for nothing. You are not doing well enough in school. You will never amount to anything.

Maybe they're right, but it's not going to change anything, so I enjoy my escape away from their anger. Cherry-blossom trees bend gently to the breeze, just as they did when I saw the eagle last night. Their leaves are a bright pink hue, hundreds slowly swaying around me as they fall to paint my path.

This secluded little road feels just like the library: peaceful, slightly out of touch with the real world just a stone's throw away. There is no hustle or bustle of human activity, no overbearing cars rumbling along, no construction work grinding my eardrums. No people. It's nice.

The grass is thick and overgrown, delicately balancing leaves that refuse to hit the ground just a few seconds longer. Butterflies dance between them, a playful balancing game as they tease and chase one another. I even come across birds and lizards sometimes, this place their little sanctuary. I come here often to read and daydream, far away from the things that frighten me at school and at home.

Kicking loose stones and looking up at the clouds, I think about last night, wondering if I will ever see Naoko again. I have already spent all morning and recess searching the school playgrounds for her. She was not in any of the circles or play areas I visited. Eventually it dawned on me that she was probably not from my school at all. What had she been doing in the library then?

When I wasn't looking for her I was replaying the night before in my head repeatedly. I still can't figure out what happened. Was the eagle real? How did we open that little door? Where in the world was that cavern?

Maybe, just maybe, everything after sitting down in the library had been a dream. I had been exhausted, maybe I dozed off. But then why did my parents punish me if it didn't happen? It must have happened. It did happen; Naoko is real.

Sighing, I swing a large stick around as if I were a knight battling dragons, dreaming I lived in different times, in lands faraway. Frustrated, and reaching a small, secluded area hidden within a clump of trees, I sit down.

Leaning back, I let my mind relax a little, and it opens up to the world around me. It is just nature and I. The trees bow in reverence to the eternal winds; the birds sing their songs free of trouble. A bunch of wild roses grow along the edge of the clearing, just beside me. Without thinking, I lean to the side a little, and gingerly pick one to twiddle around with my fingers.

As I settle in to relax, I decide. Today I'm going to read an old favourite book of mine; it's about an orphan boy who becomes one of the most powerful magicians the world has ever known. If only my life could have been so interesting. If only I could believe in myself as much as he.

Yet when I reach towards my backpack, it moves!

Shocked, my hand freezes mid-air: there is something alive inside my backpack. It moved for sure. A second movement, and a stronger rustling confirms my suspicion. It shakes again. Whatever it is struggles against the zip from the inside, desperate to get out. All I can do is stare, torn between fear and curiosity.

"Hey, let me out," a muffled but high-pitched voice shrieks from within.

I fall backwards incredulously. What on Earth could fit inside my backpack that talks?

"I know you're out there," the voice continues, before crying louder, "let me out already!"

Sitting up and mustering the courage to move closer, I carefully grab my backpack. In response something tugs back and kicks at me. I slowly unzip it a little, ready to bolt at any second. As soon as I have unzipped a few inches a little paw shoots out, sending me tumbling backwards again. Patting around, it feels the zipper and slowly pulls down.

I sit dumbfounded, watching as the paw unzips enough space to set free a bundle of fur. A small kitten rolls forward and lands not so gracefully on the grass before me. She wiggles around a bit, stretches her legs and settles into the comfortable grass. Sitting and brushing off a few loose bits from her white and grey coat, she looks up at me.

"I'm Alia," she squeaks, "what's your name?"

My mouth drops open in astonishment. In front of me sits a kitten that has somehow nestled inside my backpack all morning, and is now speaking to me as if it's the most natural thing in the world. Completely unsure of what to make out of any of this, or how to act, I pinch myself wondering if I've fallen asleep. Am I still dreaming? Seems as if I have been doing that a lot lately.

"Don't do that, silly," the kitten warns me.

"You're talking!" I manage to choke out.

She tilts her head sideways a little and looks at me as if I'm crazy. Wait, maybe I have gone crazy.

"Of course I'm talking," she says, "you're talking too. Isn't it amazing?"

My eyes narrow and I say, "but you're a kitten!"

"So?" she asks, "what's that got to do with anything?"

I lean backwards against the grass, scratching my head. My mind is racing. This can't be real; animals don't talk. The clouds swirl around high above as if confused, but I barely notice. Alia glances up for a second, concerned, before focusing entirely back on me and smiling. I must have fallen asleep rather fast this time around, the moment I leant back against the grass here. That's it: that is the only explanation. Looking back at Alia, I figure I may as well play along until I wake up.

I tell Alia my name, and her face lights up.

"I thought so," she replies, "I know that name!"

"How do you know that name?" I ask suspiciously.

"You're the boy I'm supposed to help," she says, "that's why I'm here!"

"Help?" I ask, "I don't need any help."

Alia looks at me solemnly, "na-ahh! You sure do, you need help finding her!"

Her. I sit up, "finding who?"

"You know who," Alia replies, beaming proudly.

I lean forward, my elbows resting on the grass right in front of her. I draw my face in close, looking Alia squarely in her big round eyes. My own eyes narrow, studying intently, trying to find something deep within her. She just narrows her eyes back at me and pokes her little kitten tongue out.

"Show me where she is," I say.

"With pleasure," Alia purrs. She licks me before swiping up the wild rose I had been twiddling and darting back into my backpack.

"Carry me," she says, "and I will show you where you need to go."

-----------------------------------------

Thank you very much for reading Tales of the Realm. If you like it please follow, share and give the current chapter a vote. They all help very much and are greatly appreciated!

This is a work in progress, some chapters being an earlier draft than others; so whether you enjoy the current chapter or not, all your thoughts and feedback help me so much to improve both my style and the story. So I hope to hear from you. Ty again! :-)