Searching For Dreams
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“I am still alive, my love,” said the voice of a dead man. “The light has come for you.”
A girl was sitting in front of him. She looked young and sad; her eyes were black holes that could not see anything but sadness itself. The rest of her face had been burned away by the flames from hell. Her skin glowed with an inner fire, red as blood. A beautiful woman with no soul to be lost forever.
“Who are you?” asked the old man who sat on his bed in a small room at the edge of the city. His hands trembled like leaves because he did not want anyone else to know what they contained. He knew how dangerous it would be if someone found out about these things hidden deep inside himself. But here he is again, asking me questions…
“You’re the one I’ve waited so long for!” cried the girl. And then she turned around and disappeared into thin air. Only the sound of her footsteps remained behind: soft steps running through the corridors of time.
Old Man stared at where she had vanished until there was nothing left except silence. Then he got up from his chair and walked over to the window. It opened onto a narrow balcony overlooking a courtyard filled with flowers.
On the other side of the gate stood a huge house surrounded by thick walls covered with ivy. Old Man’s room was located in this building. Beyond its entrance lay another world, a place where dreams came true. Inhabited by many people whose faces were unknown to each other, yet known all too well.
He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes. There were two men standing before him. One was tall, dressed in white clothes, with a beard and dark hair. The second was shorter, younger than the first, wearing only trousers. They both wore identical expressions of joy. Both men were looking straight at him. Their voices sounded strange, almost musical.
“We have waited for you, my friend,” said the bearded man. “And now we can finally go home.”
Old Man didn’t answer. Instead, he started walking toward them. As soon as he reached the middle of the garden, he felt dizziness coming upon him. He fell to his knees and everything went dark. When he woke up again, he was lying on the floor of his room.
Around him hung dozens of paintings made by some forgotten artist. Their colors seemed faded compared to those in Old Man’s memory.
When he looked up, he saw that the windowsill was empty. No girl or boy was sitting there anymore. All traces of their presence were gone.
Maybe it really happened? Or maybe I dreamed it all? Maybe I just imagined seeing them and hearing their words. After all, nobody ever sees what happens beyond the gates of heaven. Nobody knows what lies within the darkness between the stars.
It doesn’t matter anyway. What matters is that I’m ready to leave this place. Ready to take the next step on our journey together. This is going to be the last night I will spend alone. Tomorrow morning I’ll meet my companions once more. We shall set off for the land of dreams. Our destination is very close.
I hope the road ahead won’t be too difficult. I don’t want any problems along the way. If this is the end, let us do it properly. Let the right hand lead to the left. Don’t try to hide anything from me. Just tell me the truth and I promise you, I will handle it accordingly.
***
The following day the sun rose without a cloud in the sky. Although the weather was fine, Old Man decided to stay indoors instead of going outside. He spent most of the day reading books written by people who had never seen the inside of his mind.
At one point he even began to wonder whether he might be losing his sanity. Yet when he realized that he’d read every book in the library, he simply shrugged his shoulders and continued searching for something new to fill his days with.
At sunset, he stood up and stretched his back. Time to get prepared for the big adventure! He smiled and headed for the kitchen to prepare dinner. His wife was already waiting for him. She greeted him with a smile and kissed him on the cheek.
“How was your day, dear?” she asked.
“Very good. Very interesting,” replied Old Man, filling the kettle with water. “Didn’t find much time to relax though. Too busy studying. Hard work pays off. Right?”
His wife laughed. “Always. That’s why you always make such delicious food. You must be hungry after working so hard today.”
She took the cloth from beneath her arm and wiped down the table. She put the plate and cutlery away and then placed a large glass bowl containing cooked vegetables in front of Old Man. The aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from the oven.
“Thank you, darling. I love you,” said Old Man, kissing his wife on the forehead.
After dinner, he went upstairs to change. Then he returned downstairs and knelt beside the sofa. He pulled out a leather bag and carefully removed several objects from it. A small box, a wooden pipe, an ivory comb, a tiny knife, and three photographs.
There were also four letters: one addressed to his father, another to his mother, a third to his brother, and the fourth to himself. These were the tools of his trade. Tools that he would need if he wanted to fulfill his destiny.
He lit his pipe and turned around. And there they were. Three children sat on the sofa and watched him intently. Two girls and a boy. They looked exactly like him. Only their skin was pale and transparent. Like the ghosts of people long dead.
“Are you ready, my son?” asked one of the girls. Her voice was gentle and melodious.
Old Man nodded. “Yes. I am.”
“Then come with us,” she said. “You are needed here. Your friends await you. Together we’ll see to it that nothing stands in your way anymore. It’s not far now. Just follow the path. Take my hand. Come with me and I will show you the world.”
Her fingers glowed softly and Old Man followed her into the darkness.
***
They stepped through the gate and entered the forest. The first thing Old Man noticed was how warm the air suddenly became. Even the trees seemed to radiate warmth. Birds chirped and insects hummed in the branches above. Everything was so bright and inviting. Nothing could possibly go wrong. Not when things were this perfect.
Ahead of them lay a clearing. In the center of it was a small house surrounded by flowers and bushes. On top of the roof stood two chimneys, each sporting its own little birdhouse. From somewhere deep inside the house came the sound of music.
Gentle violin melodies played over a background of soft voices singing sweetly. An old man walked slowly toward the door. As he approached, Old Man recognized him immediately. He was the same as the picture in the letter to his parents. His hair was white and thinning. But his eyes still held a sparkle of life. The same sparkle was reflected in those of his grandchildren.
“Grandpa!” cried one of the girls and ran forward.
“My goodness, child. What a surprise! How nice to see you again,” he said, embracing the girl tightly.
“It’s been so long since I’ve last seen you,” added the other.
“Come, let’s have some tea. We can catch up while our grandfather enjoys his afternoon nap,” said the eldest granddaughter.
“I’m sorry, but I really should help Grandma with dinner,” Old Man apologized.
“Oh, no worries at all. She got tired just looking after me these past few months. She deserves a break too.”
Together they walked to the front porch and sat down on the swing. Old Man stared at his surroundings. This wasn’t the same place where he grew up. Or was it? Had everything changed so quickly or was he seeing what he wished to see because of the memories that were associated with this exact location?
Maybe it didn’t matter either way. Because behind the façade of perfection, he knew that something terrible lurked. Something dark and sinister. The kind of evil that only existed within his own mind.
The sky above was clear and blue. The sun shone brightly overhead. Yet, his heart felt heavy and cold. He had never experienced anything quite like this before. This sense of dread and despair. Perhaps, he thought, it was simply too soon for him to return.
After all, it wouldn’t be long until he died. Soon enough, he’d have to face his creator once more. And that might prove difficult. He hadn’t learned yet how to control his powers properly. If he couldn’t master them, then he would most certainly end up destroying himself instead. That was why he needed to prepare. To do whatever was required to ensure that the ritual worked.
His thoughts drifted back to the photograph. Of the woman who had taken it. Who she was. Where she lived. Why she chose to stay hidden. Was it because of him? Did he cause her pain? He tried hard not to think about such things. It did nobody any good.
As he swung gently back and forth, the wind blew across his cheeks. Warmth caressed his skin, bringing a soothing sensation. A feeling of peace and relaxation. All his troubles and fears faded away. The children chattered happily beside him. Their laughter filled the air. And Old Man wanted nothing more than to join in. So he closed his eyes and smiled. Letting the music fill his soul.
After a time, the youngest girl leaned close to him and whispered, “You look very handsome today, Grandfather. You’re almost like a prince.”
“Thank you, dear.”
She giggled and returned to her seat. Then all three of them began talking animatedly among themselves. Laughing and joking around. They continued their conversation even when he fell asleep. When he awoke, he found himself sitting on the porch once more. Only this time there were no birds singing outside. No music playing from within the house. Instead, the silence of night enveloped him completely.
He turned to find the others gone. Gone forever, perhaps. There was nothing left here for him anyway. Nothing but an empty shell of a house and an endless expanse of forest. He sighed and looked down at his hands.
Now he understood why the ritual had failed. And now he realized that if he ever hoped to survive, he must make certain changes to the spell. For starters, he needed to create a barrier between himself and the world.
One that prevented anyone else from coming near him. Furthermore, he would need to strengthen his grip on the elements. He would also require power beyond comprehension. Power capable of reshaping reality itself.
But he knew exactly where to find this magic. Deep inside himself. Within the depths of his soul. His true nature. If he could only muster the strength, he believed he might finally realize his dreams. But first, he would need to prepare.
And that meant staying alive.
***
At the edge of town, a lone figure stood waiting patiently by the side of the road. At first glance, he appeared as though he had stepped straight out of another era. From the clothes he wore, which consisted of loose-fitting pants and a short jacket, to the simple wooden walking stick he held in hand.
Despite his appearance, however, this man possessed extraordinary abilities. In fact, he was arguably the strongest magician the world had ever known. Even his name was something of a legend.
Loki.
In truth, Loki was a god. An ancient deity created by the gods themselves. Over the course of thousands of years, the gods had come together in order to build a city that would serve as both home and refuge for those who worshiped them.
They called it Asgard, and upon its creation, they placed great emphasis on building a giant wall around it. As far as outsiders were concerned, the gates of Asgard remained closed and locked tight. Not one being dared to enter. But inside the walls, the gods ruled supreme. With absolute authority over life and death.
Over the centuries, the warring factions of the Norse pantheon came under increasing pressure from the giants. These monstrous beings were born from the earth below itself. They were massive and powerful and often fought against the otherworldly creatures that roamed freely throughout the cosmos.
Eventually, many of these battles broke out into full-scale wars. Battles that raged across the entire planet. Wars that resulted in countless lives lost. And eventually, the gods decided that it was high time someone intervened. Someone strong enough to stand up to the giants.
The End