The Journal of Dreams (The Tales of Tahana - Book One)

Chapter 37: Tarasha

37-2-2-4012 DM, Perangar Eranga, Telama, Hilaraya

"Dari... Dari... Dari..."

Dari heard someone calling his name. It was the voice of a lakadu. The lakadu's voice sounded far and appeared to be coming from different directions. Sometimes it sounded as if it was coming from far out into the sea or way up high in the clouds. Other times, it sounded as if it was echoing from deep within a cave or from the top of a mountain.

"I am here!" Dari shouted back, finally deciding to respond to the call. "Who are you?"

Dari's voice echoed around him. He looked around, trying to find the source of the voice, but he realised that he couldn't see anything but white fog around him. It was so thick that he couldn't see anything beyond an arm from where he stood.

"Where are you?"

The last echoes of Dari's voice faded away. There was still no response. He felt the dampness of the fog on his skin. He tried to wave the fog away with both his hands but his effort seemed pointless. He stopped his futile attempt at dispersing the fog and decided to walk forward. He was barefoot and he felt smooth flat stones beneath his feet as he walked. He looked down but the fog that rose just below his knees prevented him for seeing the ground.

"Dari," the voice said, coming from somewhere very close. It sounded like it came from just a couple of arms away but it still had an echoing quality to it. It was as if the voice was coming from somewhere farther but strangely issuing from somewhere close.

"I am here! Where are you?" Dari asked as he stepped forward, stretching his arms in the hope of feeling something. Anything.

"Do you know where you are?" the disembodied voice asked.

"I..." Dari began but he hesitated. He knew that he was no longer at the Perangar Eranga. "I don't know."

"You are here in my house, the Hall of Clouds," the voice said.

Suddenly, the fog around Dari parted as if it was being blown away by wind, but there was no wind, not even the slightest hint of breeze. If there was, he would have heard the clinking sound of chimes. The fog started to move away from him. He looked down and saw that he was standing on smooth flat stones like the ones he saw on riverbeds, but these were immaculately white. The fog continued to move away from him, curling like white serpents or waves at sea. Somehow, he knew that he was in a room, but he couldn't see where the ceiling was or where the walls stood. Light was emanating from somewhere above but there was no hint of the sun or any visible source of light. He turned from where he stood, looking around in astonishment.

As the fog moved further away, Dari saw a lakadu standing before him. The lakadu wore a robe that was impossibly whiter than the stones on the floor and he seemed to glow. He had long black hair falling down to his shoulders and wore a white marapi around his head. He had the most beautiful face that Dari had ever seen and the friendliest pair of silver-grey eyes. He had a serene smile on his lips while looking straight at Dari.

"Desaraya..." Dari said. He didn't know how he recognised the lakadu but he knew. There was certainty in his knowledge of the lakadu's name that he couldn't explain. He felt weak in the knees. It felt right to kneel before the lakadu, so he did.

"Dari, please rise. There is no need for that," Desaraya said in a very kind voice.

Dari awkwardly rose and stood, straightening his clothes. Had he been wearing white robes the entire time? He shook his head, trying to remember how he got them on but gave up almost immediately when he realised that he would never know. He knew that he was dreaming and strange things happened in dreams.