The Gate of Horn (Angels Unlimited/Sandman)
Title: The Gate of Horn
Fandom: Angels Unlimited/Sandman crossover
Genre: General
Rating: PG
Word count: 767
Summary: The first in a seven-parter. Angels Unlimited is being crossovered with Sandman, one for each Endless. This is Dream! Spoilers for The Kindly Ones. Brice is having a dream about falling.
The Gate of Horn
Brice dreams of falling, night after night.
He’s not afraid. He falls knowing that he should, that it’s inevitable, and the wind is rushing around his ears, drumming a steady beat in his head.
‘I should have wings,’ he thinks, for no reason at all, and watches as the ground comes closer. ‘If I had wings I would rise above this. I would soar.’
“Yeah,” says a hoarse voice next to him, and he looks up to find a raven there. It’s flying down with him, in wide spirals, and doesn’t appear to have any problems in keeping up. “You’re in trouble, pal,” it says companionably.
“I don’t fall that fast,” Brice replies calmly. He always knew ravens could talk.
“Yeah, you are,” the bird points out. “That’s the ground, way down there. You hit that at this speed, who knows what’s gonna happen. Know what I’m saying?”
“This is a dream.” Brice tries moving his hand, but the wind is too strong. He cannot control the speed he’s falling at, so he accepts it and wonders again why his wings won’t catch him.
“True. But, y’know, dreams are tricky things. Can’t really trust ‘em. I’d try to wake up, if I were you.”
“You can’t die in dreams.”
The raven snorts. “Shows what you know. This is a special kind of dream. Recognised it from a mile away, pal.”
It glances down at the approaching ground, where Brice can see the trees of a mighty forest, all coloured slightly blue from the atmosphere. Everything looks blue from this height. He falls through clouds, and shivers from the cold, though he had expected it.
‘I will be warm soon,’ he thinks, knowing this.
“Okay, kid, I’ll level with you,” says the raven, and now he speaks quickly, nervously, as if he’s afraid to get interrupted. “This is the kind of dream that stays with you, okay? It’s not an ivory dream. Have you any idea how rare it is that humans get the horn dreams? I’d really try and wake up if I were you.”
That’s enough, Matthew.
This is a new voice. Brice looks up and sees a boy, apparently floating in the air, with skin as white as snow. His clothes are white, with patterns in black and silver to create the illusion of universes being drawn in the folds of his robe, and they float around him like the wings of a doomsday angel. And his eyes... His eyes are shadows, with stars glittering in the darkness, and they seem so much older than his face. He does not appear to be falling, nor is he flying. He’s just there.
“Hey kid,” caws the raven hurriedly. “I didn’t know you were there. Uh.”
Where else would I be?
“Guess that’s a good question. Uh. So. This kid is dreaming.”
Yes.
“This is the kind of dream that’s, you know, gonna happen.”
Yes.
The raven pauses, apparently considering this. “So is he what, a prophet or somethin’? Dreaming true dreams, an’ all that?”
The boy is silent for a moment. Brice politely regards the two, though his eyes drift more and more downwards now, to the blues and greens and specks of light flickering over the surface of a small lake. Brice can see his reflection in it, if he tries hard enough, and it makes him smile.
What he is is of no concern to either of us, Matthew. It is a dream of his future. It does not involve us. We should leave it now, to let him dream in peace.
The raven, Matthew, sighs, and the sound is more like a wheezing than anything else. He flaps his wings a couple of times, and moves over to sit on the boy’s shoulder. The ultimate black, and the ultimate white; the raven’s feathers and the boy’s robe.
“Okay, kid. Time to work, yeah?”
Yes, it’s time to work. There is still much work to be done in the Dreaming.
“Don’t worry, I’ll show you the ropes.”
Brice keeps falling as the voices fade away. His reflection in the lake is coming closer, and he’s not slowing down. Soon, soon, he knows he’ll hit the surface, and the water will not soften his fall. He might as well hit pavement, at this speed. He will die. This he knows.
He closes his eyes and lets it happen.
And Brice wakes, wondering why he’s covered in sweat and his sheets have wrung themselves to cling around his body.
And he assumes that it’s because of that test in Metaphysics today, that he didn’t study for.
Fandom: Angels Unlimited/Sandman crossover
Genre: General
Rating: PG
Word count: 767
Summary: The first in a seven-parter. Angels Unlimited is being crossovered with Sandman, one for each Endless. This is Dream! Spoilers for The Kindly Ones. Brice is having a dream about falling.
The Gate of Horn
Brice dreams of falling, night after night.
He’s not afraid. He falls knowing that he should, that it’s inevitable, and the wind is rushing around his ears, drumming a steady beat in his head.
‘I should have wings,’ he thinks, for no reason at all, and watches as the ground comes closer. ‘If I had wings I would rise above this. I would soar.’
“Yeah,” says a hoarse voice next to him, and he looks up to find a raven there. It’s flying down with him, in wide spirals, and doesn’t appear to have any problems in keeping up. “You’re in trouble, pal,” it says companionably.
“I don’t fall that fast,” Brice replies calmly. He always knew ravens could talk.
“Yeah, you are,” the bird points out. “That’s the ground, way down there. You hit that at this speed, who knows what’s gonna happen. Know what I’m saying?”
“This is a dream.” Brice tries moving his hand, but the wind is too strong. He cannot control the speed he’s falling at, so he accepts it and wonders again why his wings won’t catch him.
“True. But, y’know, dreams are tricky things. Can’t really trust ‘em. I’d try to wake up, if I were you.”
“You can’t die in dreams.”
The raven snorts. “Shows what you know. This is a special kind of dream. Recognised it from a mile away, pal.”
It glances down at the approaching ground, where Brice can see the trees of a mighty forest, all coloured slightly blue from the atmosphere. Everything looks blue from this height. He falls through clouds, and shivers from the cold, though he had expected it.
‘I will be warm soon,’ he thinks, knowing this.
“Okay, kid, I’ll level with you,” says the raven, and now he speaks quickly, nervously, as if he’s afraid to get interrupted. “This is the kind of dream that stays with you, okay? It’s not an ivory dream. Have you any idea how rare it is that humans get the horn dreams? I’d really try and wake up if I were you.”
That’s enough, Matthew.
This is a new voice. Brice looks up and sees a boy, apparently floating in the air, with skin as white as snow. His clothes are white, with patterns in black and silver to create the illusion of universes being drawn in the folds of his robe, and they float around him like the wings of a doomsday angel. And his eyes... His eyes are shadows, with stars glittering in the darkness, and they seem so much older than his face. He does not appear to be falling, nor is he flying. He’s just there.
“Hey kid,” caws the raven hurriedly. “I didn’t know you were there. Uh.”
Where else would I be?
“Guess that’s a good question. Uh. So. This kid is dreaming.”
Yes.
“This is the kind of dream that’s, you know, gonna happen.”
Yes.
The raven pauses, apparently considering this. “So is he what, a prophet or somethin’? Dreaming true dreams, an’ all that?”
The boy is silent for a moment. Brice politely regards the two, though his eyes drift more and more downwards now, to the blues and greens and specks of light flickering over the surface of a small lake. Brice can see his reflection in it, if he tries hard enough, and it makes him smile.
What he is is of no concern to either of us, Matthew. It is a dream of his future. It does not involve us. We should leave it now, to let him dream in peace.
The raven, Matthew, sighs, and the sound is more like a wheezing than anything else. He flaps his wings a couple of times, and moves over to sit on the boy’s shoulder. The ultimate black, and the ultimate white; the raven’s feathers and the boy’s robe.
“Okay, kid. Time to work, yeah?”
Yes, it’s time to work. There is still much work to be done in the Dreaming.
“Don’t worry, I’ll show you the ropes.”
Brice keeps falling as the voices fade away. His reflection in the lake is coming closer, and he’s not slowing down. Soon, soon, he knows he’ll hit the surface, and the water will not soften his fall. He might as well hit pavement, at this speed. He will die. This he knows.
He closes his eyes and lets it happen.
And Brice wakes, wondering why he’s covered in sweat and his sheets have wrung themselves to cling around his body.
And he assumes that it’s because of that test in Metaphysics today, that he didn’t study for.