Alec Drabbly
The Dream King
Ever since he learned how to, Alec always had problems reading. The letters and words would jump and change around when he wasn’t looking, sometimes even entire paragraphs or pages would change without him realizing it. It made reading a very slow and difficult process for him as he tried to make sense of the dancing and changing letters, authors and books that seemed to change. No one else seemed to have this problem, so he was always afraid to ask about it. It was this mysterious ability that others seemed to have that made Alec treasure books. After all, he figured, there had to be some trick to it and he was going to find it. And once he found it, he’d have the entire world at his fingers.
It was this frame of mind that he would sometimes wander the stacks of the great library. Here too things would jumble and twist. Sometimes a book would appear but he’d know that the author had never wrote it or an author would show up that none of the librarians had ever seen.
Then one day, when he was about eighteen, he found himself somewhere else. He had been walking through the stacks looking around when he saw a tall, pencil thin man with a whiskery beard and pointed ears holding some books. Alec thought perhaps he was an elf, but he looked like no elf he had ever seen before. The man-elf looked back at him through a pair of spectacles as if he had never seen Alec before.
“Now where did you come from, young mage?” he asked in a dry voice like the papers in old books.
Alec stared at him even more confused, “The front entrance, like anyone else,” he said.
“Did you really, now?”
“Of course.”
The thin man-elf pursed his lips and then sighed, “Well, you better come along with me then,” he said and dropped some books into Alec’s arms, “And make yourself useful while we’re at it.” Craning his neck, Alec glanced at the book titles he was carrying as he followed the stranger. They were books that were written in a language that he couldn’t read and had bright colorful pictures on the covers that seemed to be real. The elf -man shot him an amused look as they walked through a door Alec was certain didn’t exist. But apparently no one told the door or the stranger that.
“Sir?” he asked hesitantly, “Where are we?” They were in a long corridor that seemed to stretch on forever. Doors of every type were on the sides at indifferent intervals.
“We, young sir, are in the home of the Dream King. And you should not be awake to see it.” Alec almost stumbled as he heard that. He had heard stories about the Dream King and how sometimes sleepers would stumble into his realm, never to awaken again, but he had never heard of a story where someone awake would come into realm of dreams.
“B-but how?” he stammered out, looking around, now afraid. Though apart of him was rather hoping that he wouldn’t go back, because then he wouldn’t have to face Jono, his lov- no… boyfriend… perhaps… and wake up in the morning with uncertainty as to what he did the night before, body aching.
“I don’t know,” the stranger said, “Though it has happened, rarely, before.” He stopped in front of a plain wooden door and knocked politely. A voice answered it. It seemed familiar, though Alec couldn’t place it, that sang of the stars and stories never told. The stranger opened the door into a sitting room. It was bright and airy with birds singing and a plants hanging from the ceiling. Alec looked around until he saw the owner of the voice.
It belonged to a man who’s face was as pale as the moon wearing clothes had to have been made out of the night sky. The man looked right through him and Alec felt as if he knew him somehow.
“I found him wandering around the Library sir. He doesn’t know how he got there.”
The Dream King nodded. “Thank you Lucien, I will take care of this.”
The man-elf, Lucien, bowed and placed his books on a wired framed table before leaving. Cautiously Alec did the same, but instead of leaving stared at the King, eyes wide with curiosity and fear.
“I was wondering when you would show up for the first time,” the King said.
“You… you were expecting me?”
“Of course. You told me you were coming the last time you were here.”
“But I’ve never been here!” The Dream King only smiled a thin lipped smile at him. Frustrated Alec glanced around the room until they stopped on the books. The titles were the same. The words hadn’t jumbled and jumped around. He stared at them in awe, “They haven’t changed!” he exclaimed softly.
The Dream King looked at him with an odd blank expression. “No, they haven’t. Here all the possibilities are here in their infinity. In the land of the waking, you still see them, but they can only exist in potential.”
“You mean I’m seeing books that don’t even exist?” he shook his head, “I must be going crazy.”
“No, just accessing a power that you don’t have yet.” This was said with a tinge of sadness, “But I can fix some of it for you, if you’d like.”
At this Alec’s eyes lit up, “You could?”
“You wouldn’t see books or titles that weren’t there, the paragraphs and pages wouldn’t go missing. The letters and words however, would still jumble without great effort at keeping them straight.”
“But I’d be able to read, wouldn’t I?” This was asked hopefully. The King nodded. “Then yes, I’d like that.”
“You owe me a favor, Chaos,” The Dream King said as he put a hand over Alec’s eyes. The hand was cool and almost icy to the touch. He felt a tingling that rippled through his being, shifting something he didn’t know existed. The hand was removed and he blinked his eyes to remove the stars from them. Looking around he found himself back in the library, the familiar one.
“Whu?” he gasped softly to himself as he stared at the book titles. They were as promised, stable, to a point. But a point that was a lot easier to deal with than titles that changed every time he looked at them.
Ever since he learned how to, Alec always had problems reading. The letters and words would jump and change around when he wasn’t looking, sometimes even entire paragraphs or pages would change without him realizing it. It made reading a very slow and difficult process for him as he tried to make sense of the dancing and changing letters, authors and books that seemed to change. No one else seemed to have this problem, so he was always afraid to ask about it. It was this mysterious ability that others seemed to have that made Alec treasure books. After all, he figured, there had to be some trick to it and he was going to find it. And once he found it, he’d have the entire world at his fingers.
It was this frame of mind that he would sometimes wander the stacks of the great library. Here too things would jumble and twist. Sometimes a book would appear but he’d know that the author had never wrote it or an author would show up that none of the librarians had ever seen.
Then one day, when he was about eighteen, he found himself somewhere else. He had been walking through the stacks looking around when he saw a tall, pencil thin man with a whiskery beard and pointed ears holding some books. Alec thought perhaps he was an elf, but he looked like no elf he had ever seen before. The man-elf looked back at him through a pair of spectacles as if he had never seen Alec before.
“Now where did you come from, young mage?” he asked in a dry voice like the papers in old books.
Alec stared at him even more confused, “The front entrance, like anyone else,” he said.
“Did you really, now?”
“Of course.”
The thin man-elf pursed his lips and then sighed, “Well, you better come along with me then,” he said and dropped some books into Alec’s arms, “And make yourself useful while we’re at it.” Craning his neck, Alec glanced at the book titles he was carrying as he followed the stranger. They were books that were written in a language that he couldn’t read and had bright colorful pictures on the covers that seemed to be real. The elf -man shot him an amused look as they walked through a door Alec was certain didn’t exist. But apparently no one told the door or the stranger that.
“Sir?” he asked hesitantly, “Where are we?” They were in a long corridor that seemed to stretch on forever. Doors of every type were on the sides at indifferent intervals.
“We, young sir, are in the home of the Dream King. And you should not be awake to see it.” Alec almost stumbled as he heard that. He had heard stories about the Dream King and how sometimes sleepers would stumble into his realm, never to awaken again, but he had never heard of a story where someone awake would come into realm of dreams.
“B-but how?” he stammered out, looking around, now afraid. Though apart of him was rather hoping that he wouldn’t go back, because then he wouldn’t have to face Jono, his lov- no… boyfriend… perhaps… and wake up in the morning with uncertainty as to what he did the night before, body aching.
“I don’t know,” the stranger said, “Though it has happened, rarely, before.” He stopped in front of a plain wooden door and knocked politely. A voice answered it. It seemed familiar, though Alec couldn’t place it, that sang of the stars and stories never told. The stranger opened the door into a sitting room. It was bright and airy with birds singing and a plants hanging from the ceiling. Alec looked around until he saw the owner of the voice.
It belonged to a man who’s face was as pale as the moon wearing clothes had to have been made out of the night sky. The man looked right through him and Alec felt as if he knew him somehow.
“I found him wandering around the Library sir. He doesn’t know how he got there.”
The Dream King nodded. “Thank you Lucien, I will take care of this.”
The man-elf, Lucien, bowed and placed his books on a wired framed table before leaving. Cautiously Alec did the same, but instead of leaving stared at the King, eyes wide with curiosity and fear.
“I was wondering when you would show up for the first time,” the King said.
“You… you were expecting me?”
“Of course. You told me you were coming the last time you were here.”
“But I’ve never been here!” The Dream King only smiled a thin lipped smile at him. Frustrated Alec glanced around the room until they stopped on the books. The titles were the same. The words hadn’t jumbled and jumped around. He stared at them in awe, “They haven’t changed!” he exclaimed softly.
The Dream King looked at him with an odd blank expression. “No, they haven’t. Here all the possibilities are here in their infinity. In the land of the waking, you still see them, but they can only exist in potential.”
“You mean I’m seeing books that don’t even exist?” he shook his head, “I must be going crazy.”
“No, just accessing a power that you don’t have yet.” This was said with a tinge of sadness, “But I can fix some of it for you, if you’d like.”
At this Alec’s eyes lit up, “You could?”
“You wouldn’t see books or titles that weren’t there, the paragraphs and pages wouldn’t go missing. The letters and words however, would still jumble without great effort at keeping them straight.”
“But I’d be able to read, wouldn’t I?” This was asked hopefully. The King nodded. “Then yes, I’d like that.”
“You owe me a favor, Chaos,” The Dream King said as he put a hand over Alec’s eyes. The hand was cool and almost icy to the touch. He felt a tingling that rippled through his being, shifting something he didn’t know existed. The hand was removed and he blinked his eyes to remove the stars from them. Looking around he found himself back in the library, the familiar one.
“Whu?” he gasped softly to himself as he stared at the book titles. They were as promised, stable, to a point. But a point that was a lot easier to deal with than titles that changed every time he looked at them.