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Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #1017996
If dreams came true... Recieved Honourable mention in Kittiara's writing contest!


On the night she was born, there were many beings present. Of course her parents were there, and her godparents, fairy and otherwise. The strange thing was that there were Others there too. If you do not know who the Others are, you are probably not immortal. They are the shadows of all great Kings. They know and see all in the lives of the immortal and part- immortal. They only show themselves to those they deem worthy.

She had not yet been born and there they were for all in the room to see. The parents waited expectantly, hoping the Others might prophecy, but They stood silent. Then, she came. Since she was only part fairy, she did not appear full-grown. She floated into the room as large as a ten year old child. The onlookers gasped. For even though she was only in the shape of a child, she was the most beautiful creature any of them had ever seen. Her skin was flawless and smooth, her hair was gleaming and radiant, her eyes were deep and mysterious. The Others strode to where she had paused and placed their hands on her head as if in blessing then they faded from sight. The Parents rushed to meet her. The Mother gathered her in her arms and showered her with kisses. The Father stroked her fine hair. The god parents gathered around her and cooed their admiration. The girl stood bewildered, smiling sweetly at the crowd.

"What is she called?" the god parents demanded.

The mother answered, "She is called, Sognatrice*."

The youngest fairy godmother glided up to Sognatrice and sang, "Child, you are so beautiful, I loved you the moment I beheld your lovely face. I wish to present you with your first gift. It must be something wonderful, something no other child has.... I know! The most wonderful gift any child can receive. Sognatrice, all your dreams will come true."

Everyone gasped. The foolish fairy must not have realized what she had said! What a thing to give a child! If all her dreams were to come true, who was to say that her nightmares would not? Some rushed to stop her, but it was too late, the spell had been cast. No one could break it except the fairy who laid it now. Everyone desperately pleaded with her to take it back but she was offended by their shouting and would not listen. Before they could do anything, she disappeared. All the godparents then gathered around Sognatrice and murmured the spells they had prepared for her with so much thought and care. They all wished that they could do something for her but most of them were old and their magic was fading and was no longer powerful enough to counter a young, strong spell. One of the fairy godmothers wove a complicated spell against nightmares but she was not a very talented fairy and it had many holes and weak spots in it.

The Parents stood away from the crowd and held each other numbly. What a thing to happen to their newborn child! The child stood quietly as she was petted and fussed over, not understanding what had just happened. Soon, the godparents left, not knowing what else to do. The Parents then went to their daughter and held her for a long time.





*Sow-nya-trees (Dreamer)
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On the morning of her thirteenth birthday, Sognatrice awoke with a start. Something was wrong. She leapt out of bed and crept down the corridor to the Parents chamber. She heard murmurs and moans. Her heart sank into her stomach and she trembled as she pushed open the door.

Sognatrice saw her mother lying on her bed. Her face was as white as a sheet and she was the one the moans were coming from. As soon as the Mother saw her child, she bit the inside of her cheek until it bled, but would not make another sound. Sognatrice rushed to her mother's side. Until this moment, the two Men had not realized her presence. Now, they sprang to prevent her from touching her mother's sweating brow.

"What is wrong with Mother?" the girl asked.

The one who was her Father slowly whispered,

"She is dying. A disease has hold of her and we can do nothing!" Here, the Father's face twisted up into a queer expression and his voice shook with anger, fear, grief? Sognatrice could not tell. She had never seen her father act like this before and it frightened her.

Of course her mother could not die. How was it that Father did not realize it? Mother was part- immortal and had chosen immortality by marrying an immortal. Of course, she could not die. Sognatrice had never even seen her ill before. What a strange day.

The Father continued, his face having recovered,
"She has been attacked by a deadly spell. We have tried everything, but now it has complete hold of her. She only has a few more minutes with us. An hour at the most."

"Mother cannot die! She is an immortal!" Sognatrice protested.

"Don't you understand what I have been saying, girl!" The Father screamed, "Your mother is dying! We cannot save her! It is true she is an immortal, but even immortals can be killed by a well placed spell! Someone is murdering her!" In a choked voice, "Someone is murdering her and I can't do anything." He knelt beside the bed and bowed his head as was the custom in that place as a way to honor the dead. Sognatrice suddenly realized that these next few moments would be the last time she would ever see her mother. She too knelt beside the bed, knowing that if she touched her mother, she too could become infected with the evil spell. She could not lower her head but instead gazed into her mother’s lovely eyes and watched them slowly close, for the last time.

The other Man who had been standing silently the whole time, knelt and bowed his head briefly, then stood and gathered the Mother into his arms and strode away into a darkness that had appeared before his feet. It was then that Sognatrice knew that she had seen Death himself.
She peered at her father and saw that his head was still bowed and his shoulders were shaking. She placed a hand gently on his back but he only stood and left the room. Sognatrice was alone.




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That night, Sognatrice prepared for bed with some trepidation. She had never gone to sleep without her mother placing The Blessing on her. The Blessing kept away nightmares but mother could not do anything about dreams. Only the Masters knew how to control or eliminate dreams and they could not be bothered by such an unimportant family. Besides, the Fairies and other Charmedfolk knew that dreams helped shape the dreamer and even banishing nightmares was a tricky and risky business. Sognatrice knew that even thought she was part fairy, and quite young, she was not trained enough in magic to know the right way to weave such a spell. Her mother often had to stop and rest during the casting of The Blessing because it drained so much of her magic. Sognatrice remembered how she had complained one day about her mother's cooking and her mother had explained that she had to save her magic for that night. Her mother seldom used magic except for The Blessing. Sognatrice blew out her candle and prayed to the Others that her dreams would be sweet that night.

Sognatrice felt herself drifting on the Sea of Dreams. Her stomach dropped as her body shot up then down and her spirit snatched a Dream. The girl was sucked into the small droplet and she entered the Dream.

She was in an enchanted forest. The air was heavy with magic and smelled of mint leaves, winter, and something old, deceivingly sweet and perhaps foul. The trees were ancient, dark and gnarled. There was barely any light filtering through their leaves. She stepped forward into a clearing and saw a small cottage on the other side. She was in the cottage. It was dark and dusty. She lit a candle... and screamed. Sitting in a chair, facing her was a skeleton, skin dripping off his grinning skull. Eyes glittered within their sockets. It stood and Sognatrice woke up, panting and sweating.



So that was a nightmare, she thought. It was not so bad. But I do not look forward to living it. It did not end, so I do not know what the rest of it will be like, yet. She waited for the magic to take effect. Now that she was awake, her dream had to come true. It began. She felt as if the world started spinning faster until she could not see anything, then her vision cleared, and she was in the dark forest.

Living the dream was the same as dreaming it, only slower. Instead of suddenly being in the cottage, she had to walk all the way to it. Instead of finding a candle and a match in her hand, she had to hint for them, knowing what she would find once she did but being forced by an invisible power to complete the dream. She lit the candle, and screamed once again. The skeleton's eyes popped open and he grinned a little wider. Sognatrice was frozen with terror. He stood up... and bowed.

"Morto the Magnificent at your service!. Why have you come here and awakened me? Do you need an enemy killed? Do you need to send a dead one a message? A spell of death? A visit to the place of the dead? Any of the services I have named or any others I can assist you with will only cost you one year of enslavement, or your firstborn child. What will it be?"

"I... I was sent here by a dream. I didn't mean to wake you at all. I'm sorry for disturbing you. I really have to go now. I'm sorry."

"You are the Dreamer?"

"I was given the gift at birth that all my dreams would come true."

"I am honored Madame! How you have avoided a nightmare for so long amazes me! Antipatia has been trying to break that spell of your mother's for years! I hear she just joined my crowd. How is it you got sent to me and not Antipatia, I wonder? Oh ho ho! She is going to be so angry! I am so honored to be visited by the Dreamer herself! Do sit down! Where are my manners?"

The odd skeleton man dusted off his chair and offered it to Sognatrice. She sat, not wishing to offend him, as she did not know what he would do. He chuckled and rubbed his hands in excitement.

"Now, what can I do for you? I know, you didn't come here for my regular services, but can I do anything for you? I took a real liking to your mother, you know. I have never seen Antipatia as angry as the day she realized she couldn't manipulate you. She was so looking forward to tormenting you. If you ask me, she gets into her job way too much to be healthy, you know what I mean? I would do anything to help you, free of charge, since you gave me so much entertainment for the last thirteen years. So, what'll it be?"
Morto waited expectantly, and eager grin upon his face.

"Well, I would like to speak with my mother." Sognatrice said, still not sure whether she could trust this creature or not.

"One dead mother, coming right up!"

There was a screaming hiss and a flash of red light, and the Mother was standing next to Morto.

"I'll leave you two alone for a while," he said and disappeared in a cloud of dust.



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Sognatrice stared at her mother. The radiant glow of life had faded and in its place was the unmistakable aura of death. Sognatrice could feel the Mother’s presence in the room, but could not always see her. The Mother’s shape would be in one place one moment, then fade and appear on the other side of the room the next. Gradually, the woman settled and came to rest in front of Sognatrice.

“I am not yet accustomed to being dead. There is much for me to learn. I apologize for my inability to settle back into this world quickly,” the Mother spoke softly.

“Mother, do you not know me?”

“I… yes. I know that I do know you. My mind has been so confused by my journey to Beyond that I cannot remember everything from this world. Yet I do know that I used to live Above and I was told that I have a strong connection here and that is why it is taking me so long to adjust and forget. You must be the Daughter I long for. Where is the Husband I miss?”

“Oh Mother!” Sognatrice cried and flung herself upon her in a desperate embrace.
“Mother, please do not forget! I am your daughter, Sognatrice! Father is home and I am living a dream! Mother! Remember?”

“I begin to remember… Yes! You are my Dreamer! Sognatrice! My love! I have missed you so much! I will never forget you. I promise!” They held each other tightly, each hoping that they would never have to let go.

“Mother. Who killed you? I must know. We cannot let them kill anyone else. Please tell me.”

“Oh, darling. I would if I knew.”

“Did they not tell you? Do the Guardians not know? They must know.”

“No, dear. Whoever it was is very powerful and concealed their identity very well. All I know is the spell.”

“Tell me how it is cast, Mother.”

“Darling, I cannot. If you tried to cast it, you could kill yourself and many others. It is much too powerful a spell for anyone but a Master to cast, and even then, only the very strongest would be able to focus it so accurately. I was the only one killed by this spell. We must be thankful for that.”

“I am not thankful! I wish it had been anyone but you!”

‘Oh! My dear, I must go! I am being summoned back. They do not want me to come here because then I will remember. I love you my Dreamer!”
“Please do not go Mother! I love you!”

And she was gone.

Sognatrice sank to the floor and cried. She cried for the Mother she had lost for the second time, she cried because she was helpless, and she cried because her mother was going to forget her. As she cried, she felt the familiar spinning and was sent back home.


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Sognatrice dreaded going to sleep now. She had tried without success to weave the Blessing. Every night, Morto would invade her dreams, which he said was a good thing, but Sognatrice was not so sure. Of course he never tried to hurt her, but sometimes he would show her something he thought was funny and it would be something terrible, like a beheading where the executioner did not chop the head completely off, or a duel where both contestants died at once. She had never been exposed to human death before and found Morto's "jokes" disgusting and horrifying. She almost wished that Antipatia would get to her first. Then, one night, it happened.

Sognatrice found herself in a completely deserted place. It was void of anything. All she could see was red dust and rocks stretching before and behind her. The sky was a dark purple, but the sun was high in the sky, shining a dull, blue light.

"This is very strange."

"Don't you like it, Sognatrice? What a shame. I created it just for you."

Sognatrice jumped and turned to see where the voice had come from. There was no one there. She was alone in this forsaken place.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll be watching you."

The voice faded as the sky turned black.

Sognatrice shivered as a cold descended upon that land. She wished she could wake up, but knew that if she did she would only live through it all once again, not knowing how it would end. The cold grew more intense, the girl felt as if it were seeping through her skin and wrapping around her bones. She remembered hearing once that if you are cold, to keep moving. She began running blindly. There was no light. She now knew what it was to be blind. She ran and ran until the air seemed as if it was ripping through her lungs and the coldness helped it slash through her chest and sting her face. She tried to keep moving but the coldness captured her and clung to her like a dog does a bone. She could not move, she could not breathe. She was frozen. The light came then. A dull, red light. She could not see anything but knew light had returned. With the light came heat. She thawed and fell to the ground gasping. Soon the heat became unbearable. Sweat poured down her face. She still could not see. She felt her skin begin to blister. She stumbled in her darkness, trying to find relief. Her feet felt nothing but rough, dry ground. Her hands, nothing but air. She finally lay on the ground, sobbing and writhing I agony as the heat overwhelmed her. She buried her face in the sand and breathed it in. She fell a long distance and landed in her bed.

She lay there, with her eyes shut, pretending she was still asleep, but it was no use. The spell knew she was awake. Still sobbing from remembered pain, Sognatrice felt the spinning begin.

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She fought it like she had never fought before. She uttered every incantation and spell she could think of. She felt the spinning slow, stop, and begin to reverse and kept fighting, but the spinning resumed and was faster. Sognatrice thought she would be sick. She resisted the landing, pushing herself away from her destination as hard as she could. She remembered hear the Mother speaking of a Great Spell that could only be laid by reaching within the mind and pulling it out from within the Self. She did not know what it did or how exactly to do this pulling from within, but Sognatrice desperately wished that it would happen. She imagined her hand reaching inside her mind and pulling out what was inside, she wove a spell of summoning as her feet touched the ground and pulled from within herself with all her strength and Mind Power. She felt a small tug somewhere deep inside. She opened her eyes and saw that she was in the awful place of her dream. She also saw a tiny shimmering beside her, wavering and bobbing as if waiting for something. She whispered, “Please, if you are my Great Spell, please, get me away from here and make it so I can’t dream anymore.” She felt a strong tug, and was back in her room.

She promptly collapsed in exhaustion and lay sobbing on her bed until she fell asleep. The Others quickly appeared and surrounded her as Antipatia crashed into the room screaming.

"She was mine! I had her! You! You helped her! you are never supposed to interfere in these matters!"

The Others were silent as they stepped away from Sognatrice. Antipatia lurched towards her, arms raised but was thrown backwards. She shrieked in surprise and anger.

"Who is helping her? Why is she protected? She is mine! I am the one who cast the spell to bind her! No one could break it!"

One of the Others reached over to Sognatrice and gently woke her. The girl sat up sleepily and stared at the beings surrounding her.

"What is going on?"

Antipatia roared, "I have come to take you with me. I have been planning this for many years! You are mine!" The evil fairy tried to cast a spell on Sognatrice. The girl gasped as it pricked her but it bounced off of her and disappeared.

"What do you mean, I am yours? I don't belong to anyone. You can't make me go with you and I won't, so leave!"

Antipatia screamed in horror as she was swept away.

Sognatrice peered after her in surprise.

"What happened?" she asked the lingering spirits.

One answered, "Antipatia intended to use you as a way to manipulate whomever she wished. She is the fairy who placed the dream spell upon you. She is also the one who killed your Mother. She would have captured you in her dreamland and used you to capture others she wished to use to eventually gain control of all the magic in the Realm. Your Great Spell is very powerful as it was conjured without restraint and in an honest and desperate way. Although you did not lay it correctly, you were knowledgeable enough in conjuring that you were able to pull it through. Now it is very powerful because it absorbed all of the power of Antipatia's Dreamworld as it brought you back here. It will now serve you well forever."

"But where is Antipatia?"

"Antipatia went where you sent her."

"But I didn't send her anywhere!"

"What were you wishing as you told her to leave?"

"Well... I was wishing that she would go away forever where she couldn't ever hurt me or anyone ever again."

"Then that is where she went."

The Others disappeared and Sognatrice was left alone.

Years later, Sognatrice became the first female Master and eventually became the first woman to be appointed as the Great Master. She made sure that she always had time to care for the "less important" Charmedfolk.

And she never dreamed again.



THE END
© Copyright 2005 River Song (fantasyfan86 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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