Dreamer Child

Niku had fought bravely, but in the end has not been able to keep the Dark One from Kyoku's hiding place. He had sensed the younger psychic's weakness and took her away with him. Now her world was full of fear. Even if not for the Dark One's torments, she had never been away from home before.

She had spent the first few hours of her captivity straining against the chains that bound her, cursing in her native tongue until her voice had grown hoarse. It had gotten her nowhere. Kyoku let herself slump to the floor, wishing for a way out. Streaks of pale blue cut across her back where the Dark One had struck her—blood and scars to remind her of what would happen if she did not obey. As if the collar were not enough. She had tried to break it with all her abilities and strength, but the shrill noise it made each time she resisted finally overcame her. Such noise could damage her kind. It was unhealthy enough for humans, but her people had sensitive hearing.

Kyoku now lay gasping on the floor, wondering how humans and Named Ones could breathe here. The air was terribly thin, and all her shouting had wasted precious breath. One ear twitched feebly at the sound of the Dark One's voice down the hall.

"Have Jules glass it over and pump more oxygen into that cell. Not enough to permit her full strength, but it does me no good if she dies."

Kyoku didn't have to ask to know what the Dark One wanted from her. She had read his ambitions like words on paper, so clear were his thoughts. He knew of her talents somehow, and wanted her to feed him new worlds to destroy. The very idea made her shiver. She did not want to help him, but feared she would break in the end. He had chosen her over Niku because he knew… knew what Niku had been trying to tell her all along. Her inability to control her emotions would be her downfall.

Footsteps faded and within minutes she felt able to breathe again. Still, it was like being in the mountains where stimulant drinks were needed to keep the heart beating fast enough for proper activity. The people here called him "the Wise Man". But it was not wisdom he possessed—it was cunning. He knew what was needed to keep her from escaping. But were he wise, he would not have taken her for such an unwise purpose. The worlds all interconnected in ways most beings could not understand. To destroy one would affect all others. Her people knew this. The ancient Named Ones had known this—those who could play the universe could see it plain as day. But most of them were dead, and it was up to the N'Ahlix Ryaalni to guard the knowledge now. But the Dark One had found them. How long before her own people were destroyed as the Named had been? How long before the Ice-Heart followed the Dark One's trail?

More footsteps drew her from her thoughts. After a moment of listening she decided she liked this new man's mind much better. It was jumbled and angry, but full of love and concern and thoughts of a woman with red hair. He walked free but was as much a prisoner as she was. That fact caught her attention and held it.

You are not like them.

The man froze in his tracks as the intruding thought entered his brain. Kyoku sensed that he was startled and confused, and saw his head turn from far down the hall. Saw his mouth open to speak.

Please, stay silent for your own sake. You needn't speak for me to hear you. Just form the thoughts loud enough to bring them to the surface. I will hear them.

The man glanced away in the direction the Dark One had gone, and Kyoku felt waves of frustration and disgust radiate from him, though his face remained passive. Still he did not answer her. It seemed humans were too unaccustomed to silent forms of communication. They really were quite strange.

He had moved closer now, but had not come to Kyoku's door. She could no longer hear him, only sense him—there was another cell next to hers, and she saw the red-haired woman swim to the surface of his thoughts again, so strongly that the image sent to her with ease. Finally Kyoku understood.

"She is your daughter?" She spoke aloud this time, not wishing to unnerve the man with more thought-speech.

"She might as well be," came the man's voice from out of sight. The words were followed by a sigh. "He's gone and mangled her again. No wonder he left her in here… he'll be lucky if she doesn't kill him when she wakes up." Finally his face reappeared at the edge of Kyoku's doorway. "Doesn't look like you fared much better. He never has seemed to understand the concept of hospitality."

"I have noticed. I am, however, grateful for the air."

"I'm actually a bit surprised he didn't move you to the lab to make things easier."

"Lab? How odd… he didn't seem very scientific."

"Well," said the man with a weak smile, "I wouldn't exactly call what he does 'science'. That woman in the cell next to yours? One of his experiments. Her mind's been tampered with beyond all recognition. Every so often I see the little girl I once knew, but…"

"She is lost," Kyoku finished softly.

"You speak our language very well," he said after a pause. Kyoku started to ask if it was customary among humans to change the subject to hide painful emotions, but thought better of it. Now was clearly not the time.

"Yes, I read it in the mind of a little boy, before the Dark One came. It makes things simpler. The reading, I mean." Her heart gave a strange lurch and she winced, clutching her chest. The man rushed forward, pressing against the glass.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm—I'm fine," she gasped. "My kind aren't—we need more oxygen than humans. I was not breathing deeply enough." In truth the problem was that her kind were not meant to survive away from one another, but she realized that speaking this aloud may put others in danger. The Elysian heart did not like to beat alone. They had evolved to live in symphony with one another. To be alone was to die. But she would prefer death to putting the others in danger.

"You're probably just anxious, being in a strange place. It can upset your breathing. Maybe we can get your mind on something else for a while. What's life like back home? What would you be doing right now if you weren't here?"

Kyoku blinked in confusion. "I—I don't understand…"

"I mean," he tried again, "if you hadn't been captured, if you were home right now instead, what would you be doing?"

Her head gave an unpleasant throb. "But I am not home and I have been captured."

"I know that," the man replied, now looking as confused as she felt. "But I thought maybe it would cheer you up if… well, maybe it was a bad idea."

"How is speculating an alternate present meant to cheer me? I exist in this present. Any other would belong to another me who is not-me and parallel to this reality."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend—"

"I am not offended," she said, blinking a few more times. "It is simple illogical. I do not understand why you are asking me. Please explain?"

He hesitated. "I just thought if you had something to do…" Then, after another pause, "would it be easier if I let you… well… in my head?"

Kyoku's eyes widened. "Oh! Only if you want me to. Thoughts are very private, and if you're not used to sending them, I might see things that… well… we don't without permission. It's very rude. I can't help but hear what's on the surface, but anything deeper…" Noting his hesitation, she tried again. "Are… you trying to ask me what I would like to do now?"

"Essentially, yes."

"Oh! That is a very different question. At this moment I think I would like to learn more about this fascination with alternatives to things that cannot be changed. Is this common among your species? Are you perhaps engineered to promote paradox? It might explain why Plurality is more pronounced in your species as compared to others."

To her surprise, the man began to laugh. "No, nothing like that. It's just… wishful thinking I suppose. Daydreaming. Do your people not do that?"

"We dream," she said, still trying to understand. "But we dream of what has already come to pass. We dream to come to terms with our emotions, to organize our thoughts. Psychics may sometimes dream of things yet to come. But it isn't just pointless speculation. When the Star-People speculate, we do so with a purpose."

"So you don't have literature? Fiction?"

"Lies?"

The man's brow furrowed as he sought to explain. "Well, yes and no. Sort of… a lie that you know is a lie, but it's meant to entertain, not deceive."

Kyoku's face brightened as understanding finally dawned on her. "Like little children!"

"I suppose so, yes."

"Well, little human-child," she said with a grin, "do you have a name, or shall I call you Kuleuuki for your childlike dreams? My people call me illogical, but I think they might reconsider if they met more humans."

"You can call me Maxwell. …This really entertains you?"

"A bit. My name is Kyoku. Kyo means 'illogical' in our language. They think I am a little dreamer as well."

"I see. So you—"

Maxwell cut short at the sound of a ground from the neighboring cell. For a moment he disappeared from view. "Garnet! Are you—? Damn. Still out." With a sigh, he returned. "That man…"

"You should stand up to him."

"Who, the Wise Man? I can't."

"But you should! There is a saying among our people. Gajyihinili kithil ke'naraio kraalit juil."

"What does that mean?"

"We will never be silent when there are monsters among us."

Maxwell smiled at her, though his eyes were hollow. "If only it were that easy. You don't know what's at stake."

She watched him for a moment, but he did not elaborate. "It's private?"

"It's private."

"Then guard it well, dreamer-child. I will not ask it of you again."