Yume

Dreams.

Everything is rushing by so, so quickly. I can’t remember a thing, and yet I can’t forget any feeling.

Do you love me?


Do you miss me?

Yes, I do, I do, of course I do. Sweetheart, you needn’t worry about that. I always will. I’m always here.

But you’ve forgotten.

I wrap you in my downy feathers when you sleep. I hum sweet melodies in your ear when you imagine life’s possibilities. I never speak. But always, always, I am here. You poor angels, so alone, wandering endlessly, so forlorn.

They rush past me in the day and embrace my presence in the dark. I see the shadows crawling when I cannot protect you. I wipe the tears from their eyes when they waken, the feeling of relief when you realize it was only a nightmare. Some never feel my presence. But still, I pray for their peaceful rests.

He saw me.

Well, yes, everyone sees me, but not many really pay attention. And I agree, there is so much more to life than just speculations and assumptions and dreams.

Those sad, sad eyes.

We sang a song of loneliness, of abandonment, of comfort, of healing. I did not see the blood on his feathers, the cold steel blades he carried. I only saw his soul. Perhaps that is my Achilles’ heel. Blessed with the sight of good, unable to balance it out. That is why I will never, ever destroy my opposite.

Nightmares is so bitter, but so sad. I am optimism, he is pessimism. Many fear nightmares, but not I. I embrace him as an equal, and he does the same (begrudgingly.) We would not exist without the other. Both simply figments of the imagination... or more?

We have inspired some, frightened others, and drove others mad. And still, the world keeps moving, rushing past, never stopping once to truly see... After all, we are merely whispers. Not always something to listen to, or ever to take action on. Some just bask in the feelings we bring upon awakening.

Not him.

“You are a coatl.”

“Yes.”

He hissed in displeasure. “I promised the clan leader to not kill any that come inside our borders. You are so bright. So beautif-“ I could hear the falter in his hum, and my tongue flicked indescively. “I could not kill you.”

“You could. Would you?”

The white coatl glared at me, but I stared back evenly. Through his mask, I did not see a cold blooded killer. A seasoned warrior, perhaps, but so tainted by pain that was never meant to be his.

“How many did you kill?” I asked mildly.

“Too many.”

“You know the answer.”

A lull. Other dragons looked curiously at us, not understanding the music, and turned away again.

I pressed on. “You still hear it in your nightmares. The screaming. The lives of the innocent. You don’t take their lives, do you?”

The alarm on his face was very quickly smothered once again. “I’ve heard enough that it does not bother me anymore.”

“A lie.”

He tilted his head, bright plumage ruffling. “How so?”

“Well, a very convincing lie if I were anyone else. I am Dreams, the nemesis of Nightmares. A yin-yang, as some would call it. We share each other’s joy and pain. Many feel sad after a good dream because it feels like a loss, and still feel better after a bad dream due to the relief. Ironic, isn’t i-“

“How arrogant of you,” He spat, “you act as a walking god amongst us, too high to become truly involved but still too low to meddle in our affairs. You speak as if everything revolves around you, as if your presence was enough to drive others insane. Now, let me ask you. How many? How many did you watch suffer and stood there, on the sidelines, detached from reality? Oh, how delusional you are, poor, poor thing. Everyone is too sorry for you to lay a single claw on your skin, but you’ve taken that as worship by those ‘weaker’ than you. You believe you know everything? No one knows! You believe you know the kind of world we live in? THE KIND WHO THROWS OUT HATCHLINGS LIKE BROKEN TOYS? You know nothing.”

He never needed to pull out a blade. His freezing words were enough to cut through steel like butter.
I remember standing there, dumbfounded, his powerful tones reverberating through me.

Yes, this. I’ve heard it within myself, so many times before. But to hear someone say it...

Wordlessly, I spread my wings and lift into the sky. XII does not follow. He simply watches, a look of pity, contempt, and guilt in his eyes. I do not know what mine reads. I hum a soft tone and fly off, every wingbeat like a roar in my ears.

I am Dreams. In reality, out of touch. A tiny aspect of lives that sometimes blows up. Not always. Not usually. I feel real, but where does the line end? Where does it begin?

In reality, I am lost, and holding onto those rushing past me in the hopes that I will never fall.

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