The Dream

i know some of you might be tired of the romantic cliches i've used, but for me some cliches have this eternal irresistible charm. =)
love, apoorva


The Dream
As the night climaxed and Thalia fell into bed, exhausted, and her mind entered a deep stupor, her subconscious awoke, stretching pleasurable, lazily looking forward to her day. She took in the world around her. Thalia's state of mind when she had gone to sleep had been one of weariness but deep satisfaction also. "Well, we're just going to have to fix that, aren't we?" Tatiana murmered, annoyed by the peace of mind surrounding her. Tatiana as a subconscious thrived on loneliness that comes only in the darkest, most cruel hours of the night, and she had to hunt for that in the depths of Thalia's soul while Thalia slept, if she was to have enough energy to wake up the next night.

Tatiana got up and started walking. Every night her surroundings were different, but no matter what they were, she had to wade through dozens of dimensions of thought. Thalia's mind was a jungle of ideas, her soul an ocean of feeling. As Tatiana fought through it all, she enjoyed the hunt for darkness.

She stumbled and plunged through a soft canpoy, into a radiant space. Sheilding her eyes from the bright lights, she saw a figure approaching. "Katara!" she exclaimed, recognising the subconscious of Thalia's mother. "How are you?"
Katara replied pleasantly, "I'm well, Tatiana dear." They stood together for a few seconds, sheltering themselves from the rainbow of Thalia's mind in the darkness of eachother. Tatiana's eyes radiated shadows into the vibrant tropical atmosphere of the part of Thalia's mind with which she dreamed of her friends. Blinded by memories and echoes of laughter, Tatiana winced. Katara noticed.

"You can control this, Tatiana," she said, gesturing around her. "You have to visualise and then find what you want Thalia to see, what you want to see. That is what she will dream of."

Tatiana thought about this as she pushed on through visions of Thalia and her friends laughing and playing some silly game. The momentary irritation she felt lowered her defences, allowing Thalia's enthusiastic soundtrack to the scene to penetrate her consciousness. As she heard it echoing through Thalia, its rhythm in tune with her heartbeat, Tatiana felt panicked. Thalia's dreams were her creations, and they were becoming stronger. More visions were in the scene now. The love was flowing like blood and wine on the cobblestoned streets of Paris. Tatiana was disgusted by the beauty of it all.

Concentrating on tuning the music off key and blurring the figures Thalia was seeing, Tatiana plunged forward, trying to visualise the environment she wanted to surround Thalia's soul with. As she moved she used her eyes to cast shadows around her, and fight the light and brightness that so often filled Thalia's eyes.

Emerging from the scene, Tatiana knelt to the ground and imagined Thalia close to her. Holding her protectively, Tatiana began to sing. She sang a lullaby Thalia had heard when they were young, which had both terrified Thalia and captivated her to the point of obsession for years. Tatiana sang and sang until Thalia became more solid in her arms and the vibrant colours surrounding Thalia's memories faded, drowning in shadows. She knew that on another level the world was shaking as Thalia's peace of mind shattered and she tossed and turned in her sleep, seeing the person Tatiana had fought so hard to call.

Thalia's demons emerged in a burst of fiery darkness, materializing into the horrible vision that was ripping Thalia's heart to pieces. Tatiana continued to sing as he approached, a hideous, morphed figure with cruel eyes and a tantalizing mouth. He stopped in front of Tatiana, who then stopped singing and got to her feet.

"You don't really look anything like the way she remembers," Tatiana said, smiling coldly at the memory before her. Her eyes glowed red to counter his black ones.

"Her memory of me is tainted," the figure said, but it sounded more like a sneer. "Punishment for my sins," he added sarcastically. "I'm supposed to be feeling remorse."

"But you're beautiful," Tatiana said, her eyes devouring him. "Breaking hearts is an art, not a sin."

The dream grew more definable with the strength of this compliment. "I'm glad at least this part of her still needs to see me."

"Yes," Tatiana agreed, "Now it's your job to keep us entertained until she wakes up..."