“I appreciate your concern, Nightmare Ember, but with all due respect, Miss Eden was found in the Dream Realm, and is therefore under the Dream Council’s judgment. We will investigate the matter thoroughly, but for now, we won’t condemn her simply for being suspicious.”
Head Nightmare Ember pursed her lips, the look in her eyes mutinous.
Galaxy turned back to me. “Miss Eden, because you’ve successfully proven you possess magic, the time has come for me to ask: are you a Dreamer or a Nightmare?”
That question again, the one I didn’t confidently know the answer to. Despite knowing which I wanted to give, I hesitated. “Do I have a choice?”
“No, you’re born one or the other. Which are you?”
I knew which one I wanted to be, the same one Darius had seemed so certain I was. “Dreamer, of course.” A strange, unsettled feeling washed over me as I said it. Darius gave a subtle nod, while Head Nightmare Ember’s frown deepened.
Again Galaxy hesitated, as if reconsidering letting me stay so easily. He hastily blinked. “Very well. You’re obviously enough of a Dreamer in appearance and ability that, for the time being, you’re allowed to stay.”
A surge of joy filled me as he handed back my dream locket, which I clasped around my neck.
“You will need to be tutored to increase your powers before you will be permitted to receive a weaving assignment. I recommend sending you to the Academy to commence your training.”
“I’ve already been trained.” My desperation to remain but avoid the Academy compelled me to lie. The thought of attending a place where there was greater chance for not only my unique powers but my quirks, such as my need for sleep, to be exposed made me sick to my stomach.
Galaxy frowned suspiciously. “But you just told this Council you hadn’t received any formal training.”
Drat, so I had. My mind scrambled. “Well, actually, I found some books…at this bookstore in the village…that were hidden away…one was about dream weaving. I’ve read it many times.”
Galaxy lifted a skeptical brow. “Oh really? Then why don’t you demonstrate your skills for the Council?”
Panic swelled. “Though the book was comprehensive, I’ve never had an opportunity to practice my skills. Having lived on Earth, I didn’t have access to the magical plants used to construct dreams. I would need some practice first.”
Galaxy considered this. Everyone in the chamber watched him as they awaited his response; Darius in particular stared at him rather intently.
“The next Academy term doesn’t start for another month, so you can use that time to practice,” he said. “In three weeks you’ll show me what you can do and I’ll decide whether you can skip official training; occasionally Weavers have shown enough natural aptitude that they’re able to forgo a portion or all of the Academy. If your skills prove inadequate, you’ll enroll at the Academy…assuming you haven’t done anything in the meantime that causes me to doubt granting you the opportunity to remain in our world.”
Warm relief rushed over me. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “I expect you to take your studies seriously. Magic is an ancient art and each occupation is a sacred responsibility. Only if you prove you have the necessary skill required will you be given a weaving position. Weaving assignments are a requirement of all magical beings who’ve graduated from the Academy if they wish to remain in our world.” He paused, inviting questions.
“I understand.” Was this real? Would I really be allowed to stay here after all?
“This is the first time in our history that a Dreamer has not been born in our world, and we will keep an eye on you while we investigate the matter further.”
Darius leaned over and whispered something to Head Nightmare Ember, who spoke again. “You are a fool, Galaxy. I advise you to send this creature back to Earth where she belongs. Such meager powers for one her age are useless; she must be at least one hundred.”
“Power is power, Ember; even the tiniest seed can grow into a mighty oak, no matter how late it is planted.”
She smirked. “The Council’s judgment has proven unreliable in the past, as evidenced by the Weaver who somehow disappeared shortly after her suspension. But fine, train her if you will; give her a weaving position, it matters not to me. It would be in a Nightmare’s best interest to be partnered with a Dream Weaver so inexperienced.” She rose gracefully. “Come Darius, we have matters to attend to.”
But Darius didn’t move. “With all due respect, Head Dreamer Galaxy, I urge you to investigate Dreamer Eden thoroughly; she’s a Dreamer unlike any I’ve ever met. A few nights ago I succeeded in giving her a nightmare. Despite her measly display of power, it’s clear she possesses unnatural magic; it’s impossible for Weavers to receive dreams of any kind.”
The Council erupted in mutters of suspicion again and my previously elated heart sank. Why did he have to bring that up? Would it be enough to change the Council’s mind?
Galaxy sighed wearily, as if putting up with a child’s tantrum. He pulled out a needle and thread from inside his white robes, and with a twirl of silver magic he summoned two flowers from a bag floating beside his empty seat. In rapid movements he wove the images together and released the dream directly above me. I expected it to appear as a floating orb like the dreams I’d discovered in the village, but it disappeared, almost as if it hadn’t been woven at all.
“Hmm, as I suspected, she cannot receive the dream, as is completely normal amongst our kind.” Galaxy put his needle and thread away. “Satisfied, Nightmare Darius?”
Darius’s mouth hung open. He attempted to say something, but all that came out was a strangled sound of disbelief.
“You may not agree with my decision to give Dreamer Eden a chance, but it is beneath you to make up something so ridiculous as her seeing one of your nightmares. That’s impossible.”
Darius
