Hope and Frustration

Consciousness came to Stoya before her eyes had even opened. She felt the sheets brush against her skin as she tried her best not to move. If she moved she’d wake up. She didn’t want to wake up yet. Though she had no dream to cling to, blank unconsciousness was preferable to reality. All she wanted was to stay in bed, motionless, with her eyes closed for just a while longer, just long enough for the world to pass her by.

A Dream of the Sun and Moon

Afternoon drifted into evening. Each minute blended into the next as what was left of the two crowds stood in wait before the church. Clouds of shadowy marble slowly passed overhead. Each bore cracks as though the crowds’ earlier conflict had broken their dark stone from below. For a time these cracks loosed rolling slivers of bluish purple across the pale snow around them. This shattered sky lent a particularly uncomfortable glow to the now shining church lights which hung over the doorway and in the church steeple. It seemed ominous, foreboding, perhaps a warning of things to come.

My Father’s Will

King Albert George Arthur was the thirty-eight year ruler of the once great Brinsop Kingdom, which numbered among those beneath the umbrella of the Pan-Continental Alliance. Brinsop parliament worked within its own powers and dictated the ever-changing laws of his land while greater international political issues were mandated by the authority of the PCA. The power this king used to hold had become divided. He was less a king and more of a figurehead, all because he bore the same burden many PCA leaders inherited from their fathers. Having grown numb to the velocity at which the world spun without his guidance, King Albert chose to instead focused himself on his family. As most of the world swooned over the marriages and lifestyles of his children, princesses made into royal celebrities by the world’s press, the king contented himself with their happiness as others guided his country.

A Dream of Burgeoning Tensions

Slivers of cracks along the frame forced Ren to have the heat near blaring levels in order to maintain decent warmth inside his home. Even with the windows shut he could feel the bitter cold air from outside seeping through. Since simply caulking the cracks proved futile after a while, this issue became more detrimental than a few creaking floor boards or the unsteady railing on the staircase. It cost so much money to regularly have his heat so high that he’d joke about how those working for the heating department lived like kings. Even so, at least he had the money and what’s more a home to waste it on. He counted himself blessed that he had even this much despite his monetary concerns.

A Dream of Coming Home

Rene was sitting up in his bed having a late night read by his nightstand lamp when suddenly he thought of Eckhard. This wasn’t uncommon for him and neither was it that odd. Whenever he read he’d often reach a certain point where Eckhard would enter his mind. He’d also end up thinking of himself. Sometimes he’d consider their bizarre version of friendship, their history together and more importantly what kind of future awaited them. Such concerns frequently crackled in the back of his head. It’s why he read so much. The difficulty was that doing so would only douse some worries while igniting others.

Goodbye, Daddy

It was a particularly hot summer day in this tropical paradise her father called his “personal resort”. The luxurious place was built into the side of a mountain and had an inset pool which gave the illusion of swimming in a waterfall. Several of the other children had been hesitant at first, afraid they’d fall off. Once they saw their father leap in and emerge alive they instantly jumped at the new experience. All of them enjoyed the sparkling water, its pristine nature twinkling in the light of a joyous sun. All of them had fun before going inside to play videogames, all of them except for Stoya.

A Dream of the Fire’s World

Darkness receded like a fog rolling backwards. The first thing he could feel was the prickling sensation of consciousness sparking across his mind, like the feel of ants scurrying over his brain before vanishing. His vision came in the absence of the darkness, as did his hearing, though that was slower coming. Eckhard’s eyes fluttered open to see the rubble enclosing him as his ears picked up the distant sounds of crackling dancers.

A Dream of a New Storm

Eckhard rode another bus towards his last job of the day. It had been a long grind this time, with the traveling being the least of his concerns. What had bothered him most was the general feeling in the air. There was a visible tension wherever he went and the people were more rigid than usual, like strings pulled to a shaking intensity. The subway tasted of nervous sweat. The streets resonated with stifled breaths and hurried steps. No matter what district he passed through he felt anxious spirits clinging to him. Something was coming, if it wasn’t happening already. But what was it?

Our Father’s Will

As the suited servant closed the door behind her, a uniquely solemn orchestral piece welcomed her into the room. The spirit of the music, which came from the nearby record player, made it that much more difficult for her to continue inside. However, she knew what had to be done, and so she clutched her handbag closer to her with both hands and tried to calm her breathing. She was careful not to walk too fast or else she might startle him, though there was also another reason why she walked so slowly. Her reluctance at facing him had turned the ground into molasses. She was wading through hesitation and a futile fear towards the man who meant so much to her.

A Dream of Faith

Standing there at the podium, with his face austere and his collar neatly done, he had the presence of a giant. His posture was so perfect it seemed to elevate him even higher above them. As he spoke his voice would occasionally rise, not in pitch but in power.