The Dim Source of Dreams Pt.1
Cylus 17 of 720 in the Heartland of Yrmellyn's dreamscape, Emea
The fever Yrmellyn had caught continued. She was still in isolation in Volta, in an inn room of acceptable quality, for Voltan standards. A tiled stove kept the room warm. She was alone as her partner Ha’zel had found work. When Yrmellyn was awake she was dizzy. Most of the time she slept. But, it wasn’t the calm sleep of a healthy person. When she slept she dreamt and her dreams were lucid. Dream followed upon dream, like pearls on a string. She had tried to interpret what they meant. But her fever struck mind wasn’t fit for reasoning in a logical manner. Physical exhaustion in the dreams had made her fever worse. Tired, she closed her eyes and soon she slept again ...
A tingling sound of small bells ...
Once again Yrmellyn woke up in a lucid dream. Once again she was in the place named The Meadow of Spirituality. Bizette, her companion in Emea called it the heartland of Yrmellyn’s dreamscape. An interesting label. It seemed like it always was here she started, every time she became lucid in a dream. The meadow with its green trees and grazing cattle was beginning to feel like a home to her. She knew this place. It felt like she could stay here for a lifetime.
In a previous lucid dream, Yrmellyn had learnt about The Veil. After much effort, she had found it and detected a gateway. It looked like a golden field embedded in a wall of green and brown, a mimic of the surrounding nature it blended in with. Examining the gateway had turned out to be more demanding than it had seemed at first. She had made a narrow escape from the nightmare of the golden gate trapping her like a dragonfly in amber. Then, instead of arriving in another dreamscape, Yrmellyn had arrived in a tunnel. Her first attempt to explore The Veil and the gateway had ended there. She had taken the tactic of “better safe than sorry and returned to her own dreamscape. It had been the night before.
The veil of her dreams was a complicated barrier of unexpected depth. The thoughts about it had left her no peace. It might be the reason for why she already was lucid again.
“Bizette?” she whispered holding out her hand.
Her companion, the small Emean dragonfly appeared. It rippled as the insect shifted into the shape of a small woman with curly hair and huge dark eyes. It sat in Yrmellyn’s hand, grinning at her. “What do you want?”
“I want to speak about The Veil and the gateway I found. In hindsight, it felt like it looks as it looks because I imagined it to look that way. I wanted it to have depth. When I passed through the golden field, the opening, I came to a tunnel instead of a new dreamscape. Depth.”
“This is why I choose you,” said Bizette. “You don't simplify things. You complicate them. You are a depth seeker, not a lover of flatness. I’ve seen my share of shallow dreamers walk through their veils like they were so thin that they almost didn’t exist. Unfortunately, that was also how it was.”
“Unfortunately? Wasn’t it a good thing that it was easy for them to walk through it like it didn't exist?”
“No.”
Yrmellyn looked at Bizette and waited for her to continue. But, her small companion didn’t offer any explanations. Finally, Yrmellyn gave up and resorted to asking more questions. “What do you mean? Why wasn’t it a good thing? “
“The Veil is what protects us from Chaos. Think! Is the protection better with a veil as flimsy as a curtain of lace or is it better with a thick wall?
“I guess a thick and solid veil is the best,” Yrmellyn admitted.
Bizette nodded. "You found a tunnel behind a locked gate, so your veil is a solid barrier. It means that Your reality and your dreams are well separated. Your dreamscape is also well separated from other places in Emea."
"What do you mean? Am I unable to go anywhere?
" You will not become one of the people who begin to mix up reality and dreams. Those who are unable to know what is what anymore. The lunatic dreamers. ”
“Well ... that's good news, I suppose." Yrmellyn found it enough to deal with being lucid. Lunatic would bee too much. "But Bizette, it was hard to pass through that golden field you call a lock. It was so easy to step in. But, next, I felt like it was going to trap me in the weird golden stuff it's made of. It softened a bit again when I decided to fight my way out from it. I swear I felt like I had walked through thick syrup or resin or glue.” As her companion only nodded, Yrmellyn continued to tell the story. “So, there I was, in a beautiful tunnel. I didn't dare to walk through it and try to get out on the other side though. I went back instead.”
“Wise of you. Only a fool would play with unknown powers.” Bizette sounded smug.
“I’ve heard it before,” said Yrmellyn. Her mentor in magic had repeated those words like a mantra. “But, there was something I thought of when I was in that tunnel. I wondered if the way I imagine things in Emea can affect them. The Veil was of the colours I had imagined it to be. It had depth, as I had thought it would be. I had never seen it before. Still, it all looked like I had wanted to think it would do.” She watched Bizette and waited. "At least it seemed so, afterwards."
“It’s the Governing. You are in the early phase of awakening to it. As you noticed, Emea likes to adapt to you and your wishes. You didn’t get what you imagined the way you expected it to be though. You got something different, with a few similarities, but different. Well. Your own randomized and careless wishful thinking shaped the way you see The Veil.” Bizette shrugged. “It's already done. Deal with it!”
“You could have warned me, “said Yrmellyn, feeling a bit annoyed at her little companion. They knew everything about Emea and lucid dreams but never volunteered the information. Yrmellyn had to investigate her way to knowledge by asking them a ton of questions. “What is Governing?”
“You govern your dreamscape. You shape it as you want it to be. But, as you are a beginner at this art you shouldn’t rush away and affect your environment on a whim. Your experience with The Veil, the golden lock and the tunnel beyond it should teach you a lesson! But, you were lucky and didn’t think The Veil was a useless mist or so. Be more aware next time you begin to fantasize and envision stuff.” Bizette’s tone was pompous and admonishing now. It stared at Yrmellyn with its huge eyes in a very stern manner.
Yrmellyn felt defensive. “I’m a painter. I envision things all the time. It’s what I am about. It keeps coming and I’m not going to stop doing it.”
“Blame yourself then! I don’t take any responsibility for what you do. If you mess up Emea with your artistic antics it’s your own job to deal with the consequences.”
“Mess up Emea? What do you mean?”
Bizette didn’t answer. But, in Yrmellyn’s art-addicted mind new ideas were already beginning to brew. The art installations she could do! Emea seemed like a dream world for a lucid artist! Monumental paintings! Wondrous landscape designs! Creativity unbound beckoned, unlimited by the laws of her waking reality. A huge wave of inspiration rolled trough Yrmellyn at this insight. Combined with the enriched impressions of her mind, it filled her with compulsive desire to govern away already!
It took discipline to withstand that immense desire. During the years Yrmellyn’s had gained more discipline than in her younger days, but she wasn’t an expert at it. Hey, she wasn’t a priestess dedicated to lead a life of structure, discipline, duty and servitude. But, as an artist, she still had developed her discipline. That was necessary for following through with her artwork. She wasn’t into daubing away like a child. But, withstanding the allure of the governing to one hundred percent wasn’t possible. So, Yrmellyn told herself that she was going to try it out on a limited scale. She would allow herself to give in to inspiration, but not to go wild. It would be a small experiment.
“I’m going to govern now,” she announced.
“Oh my ... gotta get out of range!“ Her small Emean companion rippled and turned into dragonfly shape. Then the insect tore up a rift in the air, flew through it and was gone.
Yrmellyn shrugged. Bizette hadn’t wanted to take part in the live art experiment about to take place in Yrmellyn’s dreamscape. It didn’t matter. Those who were looking to create art couldn’t care about what “people would think”. Besides, Yrmellyn would focus the governing on a well-defined test creation. She would attempt to make a spring, a small source of water, under the trees nearby. It would be a good addition to the landscape.
She walked over to the place where she wanted the source to appear. Then she closed her eyes and let her inner vision play with the ideas that came to her. It would be round that small source of water, but not a perfect circle. Nature was always irregular in shape. She imagined a shape that reminded about a circle but wasn’t. Green moss? Yes, definitely there would be soft green moss and also some old leaves from last year to add contrast. Clear as a mirror it would be, her spring, the small source of water in the huge meadow dreamscape.
Here, right here under the trees ...
Yrmellyn opened her eyes again. Her imagined picture of the source was still vivid in her mind. But, in front of her, she saw only the shadow of her vision. It looked half-true like she hadn’t quite succeeded to govern this small piece of her dreamscape. Dim and surreal like a dream written in mist it was both there and not there. She had to conclude that she had taken on a bigger government project than she had been able to succeed with. It might have been better to start out on an even smaller scale.
It’s neither here nor there...it’s something between. It's a dreamlike half-existence within a lucid dream. For now, it is "The Dim Source of Dreams." But, another time, when I know more about this kind of art, the governing, I will attempt to improve it. Another time, another dream, another chance, more projects...
“I’m kicking you out of Emea now before you go on to dimming the whole dimension.” It was Bizette. The dragonfly had returned now when the governing experiment was over. A quick ripple and the insect became a small woman with curly hair, huge black eyes and a miniature drum. Without saying anything more Bizette began to drum like crazy. Yrmellyn had to shelter her ears with her hands.
The kick from Emea was powerful and instant and she woke up in her real world with a sudden spasm. My! They hadn’t liked her foggy creation! Yrmellyn was, however, feeling pleased. Real art was always provocative. The governing had been successful, from a quirky art point of view!
A tingling sound of small bells ...
Once again Yrmellyn woke up in a lucid dream. Once again she was in the place named The Meadow of Spirituality. Bizette, her companion in Emea called it the heartland of Yrmellyn’s dreamscape. An interesting label. It seemed like it always was here she started, every time she became lucid in a dream. The meadow with its green trees and grazing cattle was beginning to feel like a home to her. She knew this place. It felt like she could stay here for a lifetime.
In a previous lucid dream, Yrmellyn had learnt about The Veil. After much effort, she had found it and detected a gateway. It looked like a golden field embedded in a wall of green and brown, a mimic of the surrounding nature it blended in with. Examining the gateway had turned out to be more demanding than it had seemed at first. She had made a narrow escape from the nightmare of the golden gate trapping her like a dragonfly in amber. Then, instead of arriving in another dreamscape, Yrmellyn had arrived in a tunnel. Her first attempt to explore The Veil and the gateway had ended there. She had taken the tactic of “better safe than sorry and returned to her own dreamscape. It had been the night before.
The veil of her dreams was a complicated barrier of unexpected depth. The thoughts about it had left her no peace. It might be the reason for why she already was lucid again.
“Bizette?” she whispered holding out her hand.
Her companion, the small Emean dragonfly appeared. It rippled as the insect shifted into the shape of a small woman with curly hair and huge dark eyes. It sat in Yrmellyn’s hand, grinning at her. “What do you want?”
“I want to speak about The Veil and the gateway I found. In hindsight, it felt like it looks as it looks because I imagined it to look that way. I wanted it to have depth. When I passed through the golden field, the opening, I came to a tunnel instead of a new dreamscape. Depth.”
“This is why I choose you,” said Bizette. “You don't simplify things. You complicate them. You are a depth seeker, not a lover of flatness. I’ve seen my share of shallow dreamers walk through their veils like they were so thin that they almost didn’t exist. Unfortunately, that was also how it was.”
“Unfortunately? Wasn’t it a good thing that it was easy for them to walk through it like it didn't exist?”
“No.”
Yrmellyn looked at Bizette and waited for her to continue. But, her small companion didn’t offer any explanations. Finally, Yrmellyn gave up and resorted to asking more questions. “What do you mean? Why wasn’t it a good thing? “
“The Veil is what protects us from Chaos. Think! Is the protection better with a veil as flimsy as a curtain of lace or is it better with a thick wall?
“I guess a thick and solid veil is the best,” Yrmellyn admitted.
Bizette nodded. "You found a tunnel behind a locked gate, so your veil is a solid barrier. It means that Your reality and your dreams are well separated. Your dreamscape is also well separated from other places in Emea."
"What do you mean? Am I unable to go anywhere?
" You will not become one of the people who begin to mix up reality and dreams. Those who are unable to know what is what anymore. The lunatic dreamers. ”
“Well ... that's good news, I suppose." Yrmellyn found it enough to deal with being lucid. Lunatic would bee too much. "But Bizette, it was hard to pass through that golden field you call a lock. It was so easy to step in. But, next, I felt like it was going to trap me in the weird golden stuff it's made of. It softened a bit again when I decided to fight my way out from it. I swear I felt like I had walked through thick syrup or resin or glue.” As her companion only nodded, Yrmellyn continued to tell the story. “So, there I was, in a beautiful tunnel. I didn't dare to walk through it and try to get out on the other side though. I went back instead.”
“Wise of you. Only a fool would play with unknown powers.” Bizette sounded smug.
“I’ve heard it before,” said Yrmellyn. Her mentor in magic had repeated those words like a mantra. “But, there was something I thought of when I was in that tunnel. I wondered if the way I imagine things in Emea can affect them. The Veil was of the colours I had imagined it to be. It had depth, as I had thought it would be. I had never seen it before. Still, it all looked like I had wanted to think it would do.” She watched Bizette and waited. "At least it seemed so, afterwards."
“It’s the Governing. You are in the early phase of awakening to it. As you noticed, Emea likes to adapt to you and your wishes. You didn’t get what you imagined the way you expected it to be though. You got something different, with a few similarities, but different. Well. Your own randomized and careless wishful thinking shaped the way you see The Veil.” Bizette shrugged. “It's already done. Deal with it!”
“You could have warned me, “said Yrmellyn, feeling a bit annoyed at her little companion. They knew everything about Emea and lucid dreams but never volunteered the information. Yrmellyn had to investigate her way to knowledge by asking them a ton of questions. “What is Governing?”
“You govern your dreamscape. You shape it as you want it to be. But, as you are a beginner at this art you shouldn’t rush away and affect your environment on a whim. Your experience with The Veil, the golden lock and the tunnel beyond it should teach you a lesson! But, you were lucky and didn’t think The Veil was a useless mist or so. Be more aware next time you begin to fantasize and envision stuff.” Bizette’s tone was pompous and admonishing now. It stared at Yrmellyn with its huge eyes in a very stern manner.
Yrmellyn felt defensive. “I’m a painter. I envision things all the time. It’s what I am about. It keeps coming and I’m not going to stop doing it.”
“Blame yourself then! I don’t take any responsibility for what you do. If you mess up Emea with your artistic antics it’s your own job to deal with the consequences.”
“Mess up Emea? What do you mean?”
Bizette didn’t answer. But, in Yrmellyn’s art-addicted mind new ideas were already beginning to brew. The art installations she could do! Emea seemed like a dream world for a lucid artist! Monumental paintings! Wondrous landscape designs! Creativity unbound beckoned, unlimited by the laws of her waking reality. A huge wave of inspiration rolled trough Yrmellyn at this insight. Combined with the enriched impressions of her mind, it filled her with compulsive desire to govern away already!
It took discipline to withstand that immense desire. During the years Yrmellyn’s had gained more discipline than in her younger days, but she wasn’t an expert at it. Hey, she wasn’t a priestess dedicated to lead a life of structure, discipline, duty and servitude. But, as an artist, she still had developed her discipline. That was necessary for following through with her artwork. She wasn’t into daubing away like a child. But, withstanding the allure of the governing to one hundred percent wasn’t possible. So, Yrmellyn told herself that she was going to try it out on a limited scale. She would allow herself to give in to inspiration, but not to go wild. It would be a small experiment.
“I’m going to govern now,” she announced.
“Oh my ... gotta get out of range!“ Her small Emean companion rippled and turned into dragonfly shape. Then the insect tore up a rift in the air, flew through it and was gone.
Yrmellyn shrugged. Bizette hadn’t wanted to take part in the live art experiment about to take place in Yrmellyn’s dreamscape. It didn’t matter. Those who were looking to create art couldn’t care about what “people would think”. Besides, Yrmellyn would focus the governing on a well-defined test creation. She would attempt to make a spring, a small source of water, under the trees nearby. It would be a good addition to the landscape.
She walked over to the place where she wanted the source to appear. Then she closed her eyes and let her inner vision play with the ideas that came to her. It would be round that small source of water, but not a perfect circle. Nature was always irregular in shape. She imagined a shape that reminded about a circle but wasn’t. Green moss? Yes, definitely there would be soft green moss and also some old leaves from last year to add contrast. Clear as a mirror it would be, her spring, the small source of water in the huge meadow dreamscape.
Here, right here under the trees ...
Yrmellyn opened her eyes again. Her imagined picture of the source was still vivid in her mind. But, in front of her, she saw only the shadow of her vision. It looked half-true like she hadn’t quite succeeded to govern this small piece of her dreamscape. Dim and surreal like a dream written in mist it was both there and not there. She had to conclude that she had taken on a bigger government project than she had been able to succeed with. It might have been better to start out on an even smaller scale.
It’s neither here nor there...it’s something between. It's a dreamlike half-existence within a lucid dream. For now, it is "The Dim Source of Dreams." But, another time, when I know more about this kind of art, the governing, I will attempt to improve it. Another time, another dream, another chance, more projects...
“I’m kicking you out of Emea now before you go on to dimming the whole dimension.” It was Bizette. The dragonfly had returned now when the governing experiment was over. A quick ripple and the insect became a small woman with curly hair, huge black eyes and a miniature drum. Without saying anything more Bizette began to drum like crazy. Yrmellyn had to shelter her ears with her hands.
The kick from Emea was powerful and instant and she woke up in her real world with a sudden spasm. My! They hadn’t liked her foggy creation! Yrmellyn was, however, feeling pleased. Real art was always provocative. The governing had been successful, from a quirky art point of view!