Macey (a Dream Wars short story)

Greetings to those of you who enjoy discovering all the hidden tales from inside the Dream Arena. To those of you who may be new to these short adventures, a hearty welcome.

Let me briefly introduce myself. My name is George Salvinger. I have never been a wealthy man, but my mind is rich in curiosity about other lands and cultures. All my life I have dreamed of visiting just one of the mystical seven wonders of the world. So whether it was luck, or fate or something else, I simply do not know, but I had the good fortune to discover the first wonder of the unknown world. It was I that stumbled across the building where people go to dream. I could and have written many words on its design, its secrets, its many levels, its many doors. Indeed I made it my mission to bring it back to the attention of the waking world, for we have all but forgotten it. It lies tumble down and derelict. People have stopped going inside to dream lest they should be caught up in the dream wars that rage inside. This building of which I speak of course is the Dream Arena.

Normally, I would impart some little pearl of wisdom, or some small adventure that I once had, or even a few observations on the strange and mysterious lands inside, but today I am merely acting as a reporter. Today the words are not my own, but those of Raximus.

My regular followers will know that Raximus is a teacher. He mentors gifted dreamers, boys and girls known as halons, and shows them how to push through all the normal boundaries of the mind in order to explore the uncharted territories beyond.

There is a popular series of books called Dream Wars in which the life of one particular boy halon is explored. Therefore, many of you know of Mr William Silver, the boy in training to be God of dreaming. However very little is known of his constant companion and fellow orphan Miss Macey Merrie. Today I bring you a scoop, an incredible revelation, one that helps to explain why she and William make such a very good team. The revelations come from Raximus’s diary and here, transcribed exactly as they were in that very book, are his words.

“Last night a bat flew into my window. When I opened it and saw the poor creature dead upon my sill, I thought I would take it with me to the woods for burial. I was going there anyway to check the nightmare traps that I had laid down the previous evening. However, as I went to place its stiff body in my satchel, I discovered that a note had been strapped to its tiny claw and that my name was upon it.

“Raximus. There is a huge yarl of nightmares (I have not heard the word yarl since I left the State of Sleep. I think it is such an apt description of a marauding band of nightmares) to the east of Riddington village. I know you guard the halon boy, so I write to implore you to guard him well or even to consider moving him elsewhere to safety. I have not seen such a large group in many years and I am sending bats out to other slayers in neighbouring counties for help. My wife Maud, who normally fights at my side, is expecting our first child. Be alert.  PS. Many times have I wished to sneak into the village to see the boy. Is he well? Does he show signs of any powers yet?

Markus Merrie

I knew the boy, William Silver to be completely safe. I had been putting traps out in the woods for months and found not a single sign of nightmares, so since the poor man was trying to fight the yarl alone, I decided to go and help. When I arrived at Fiddlers Wood, it was dark. I camped out for the night and laid nightmare traps all around myself to keep safe. Having caught nothing for months, I was overwhelmed to find that five were trapped that very night – big ones too. All were of the goyle variety, crude even by the prince of nightmares’ standards. Knowing that Markus was in considerable danger, I set off early to find him and find him I did – and Maud too. They were slumped over some high tree boughs, their flesh having been stripped. The blood that dripped was still luke warm, so the massacre had not long ago happened. It was then that I heard a sound through the trees. Because I was so jittery I’m afraid I killed three blackbirds between where I was stood and the small clearing in which I found the couple’s wooden caravan.

The sound came from underneath the caravan itself. I saw a writhing mass of fur there and was just about to use my halon wand to kill it when the creature raised its head. It was merely a wild dog and I had killed enough innocents in the last few minutes, so I lowered my wand. I saw only one dog at first, but six jumped up and moved towards me baring their teeth. Only then did I spot the child. At first I thought it was dead. I thought that the wild dogs had killed her, but then she stirred and made a sound. The dogs responded, looking back protectively. They thought I was out to hurt the child and they ran at me as one large attacking scrum. Only when I held my hand out and allowed them to see the halium, spinning brightly around my wand and sent them a pulse of its soothing red energy towards them, did they realise who I was. They stopped in their tracks.  

“Who is the little child?” I asked them.

The leader of the pack moved forward and bowed before me.

“My name is Borin. I have sworn to protect her, Raximus. Her parents were nightmare slayers”.

The child was barely hours old and yet both of her parents were dead. No living creature needed more protecting than her.

“May I approach to see that she is well?” I asked Borin.

“My partner has given her milk, but she is restless. We are afraid that come night-time, the beasts will surround us and take her”.

When I saw the child for the first time I couldn’t believe that a human girl could be so charming. She had scruffy blonde curls and such big, innocent eyes. Her parents had left a small bow and arrow at her side. My heart broke that very second. Markus must have made it for her in anticipation of the runs that they would make together in future years, runs that would not now happen, runs to hunt out the very nightmares that had killed him.

As I picked her up, Borin spoke, but not to me - to the child.

“No” he explained. “He is from our side. He is a dreamer. He has come to help”.

“Why do you speak to her”, I asked. “She is too young to know language”. The reply he gave made me fall in love with the child even more than I already had.

“She is a whisperer. Her mind is full of the languages of nature”.

Very few whisperers are born these days. Language skills that enable humans to talk to animals are passed down from father to son or mother to daughter. This tiny child could speak to, as well as understand dogs and probably other animals besides, but she was doing it all through her mind, rather than her mouth.

I knew then that the girl would be the very best company for the boy who was under my protection. The child of a slayer and a whisperer to boot. I had suddenly increased the boy’s chances of survival many fold.

And so, after careful negotiation with the dogs and the promise of being able to come and see her often, the child that I named Macey Merrie came back to Riddington with me and met young Will Silver for the first time. Their friendship was forged under my watchful eye and I kept my word. The dogs became Macey’s constant companions and protectors and as troublesome to the villagers of Riddington as the two children. But I felt much happier knowing that as long as Macey was safe, Will would be too, for the dogs adopted him as one of their own. He became known by them simply as Silver, a name that would stick with him for the rest of his life.