The Dream Weaver

Part 1 Escape

The Dream Weaver, that was the only name he knew. His fingers alight with the shifting thoughts of children and adults alike. He twisted their thoughts into a new thread and there begins our tale. For you see the dream Weaver is in charge of crafting dreams and duplicating them so that people all around the world can sleep at night with visions of peace, happiness, or at times horrible figments of their worst fears realized. He twisted the thread and put it through the eye of the needle carefully. Then he began to stitch the air in front of him into a fine fabric of pulsating light. His deep velvet eyes seem transfixed on what he was doing. Each movement of his hand precise, he pauses to wipe away sweat and move his long raven-black hair from his face as the wrinkles and folds of his skin increased with concentration. This was a particularly difficult, and complicated dream you see. It was thought up by several young children in an old shack in the woods.

The dream itself was marevelous and huge. Its morals and ideals seeming to, all at once, describe to the world what every child wants. When he completed his work he stopped, stood and tore the fabric in two and sewed the two halves together again in a different pattern. He repeated this process until he was satisfied with the results. When it was perfect in the eyes of it's maker the Dream Weaver folded it neatly and stuffed it into a travelling pack. He looked about and reached out with his mind and let his emotions flow. It was one of the rare days where he could craft a dream that was completely his own. The Threads began to come together in bright reds, golds, and other varying colors, each one displaying an emotion. Each tied to a memory.

He moved his body in time to a song only he could hear. The threads moved faster weaving together until finally all at once they stopped and formed a beautiful cloak whose color changed frequently and was always beautiful. He donned his cloak and smiled, his left eye sparking with energy. He picked up his pack of Dream Fabrics and walked through an odd looking door at the end of his hall. The door had an interesting appearance, It had a gold frame with bright gems in each corner, the door itself seemed to be made of stars and the door handle was crafted of the largest diamonds that could be found, cut and rounded to perfection. This door was the door to the realm of sleep. When he opened it he left his own space and dressed in his suit and cloak he went about the business of sewing his Dream Fabrics into the very foundation of sleep itself. A bit of a nightmare here, a little greif there, and finally a dash of pure joy. When it was all done he looked at it. It was missing something. He couldn't figure out what it was for the life of him. What was it? After a long time staring into the endless sheets of pulsing light the answer hit him like a train. It's realization sending shockwaves through his body, vibrating his very soul.

He tore off the sleeves of his cloak and began to work away their stitches. He blew the threads out into the void around him, each one falling amongst the dreams their individual colors fading and blending into the others as he manipulated them and sewed them in. He blew out an exasperated sigh his body feeling tired and battered. He began to walk across the sheets of fabric wondering how far he'd get this time before being rocketed backwards. He got farther and farther everytime. He just knew this time he would make it, this time he would break through the wall and see what was beyond the realm of Sleep. He ran, sprinted, his heart pounding as his legs pumped up and down like pistons, his heart pumping blood through his veins. He was no longer the Dream Weaver, he was a machine programmed with but one purpose; to break through the wall that bound him here.

He wanted to escape the realm of sleep. To run until his body could go no more, maybe then he could be safe. He had to keep running, his heart beat slamming through his chest as he hit the invisible wall like a battering ram pushing against it with all his might, will, and power. The barrier stretched and then finally flung him back, tumbling and spinning into a heap of light and cloth. He leapt up, his fury igniting in bright colors and threads swirling around him. He was going to make it out of this void and he was not giving up this time. He smiled as needles floated in the air around him, each tied to a thread of blazing red and purple hues. Each one spinning and twirling through the air aimed at the barrier, punching holes through it and leaving big gaping scorch marks, burning the barrier like paper. He ran with a soundless yell tearing through his throat, rushing through the rapidly expanding hole. He stopped when out of the darkness a voice thundered in his mind