That night, Fidds lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling and seeing only the river beneath the cliff.

To his chest he held a book. It wasn't much to look at — just a simple poly-bound notebook with a plain blue cover. But this book was far from simple. According to Lilith, this book would unlock Fidds' mental powers.

"Every morning," she'd instructed, "write in this book whatever you remember about your dreams. The more you write them down, the easier they'll be to remember, and the more you can wake up your mind without waking your body. Now, you just write down what happens in your dreams, what you feel, things like that. Then come back next week and tell me how it goes."

She'd referred to it as a dream journal. He liked that. It made him feel bigger, better, more important.

Now, as he lay in the dying sunlight, he clutched the dream journal to him like a lifeline.

Everything he'd learned today was amazing. Almost too amazing to believe. But if Lilith could teach herself to fly — the possibilities were endless. For the rest of the day, after he'd left her shack, he'd found himself daydreaming about, well, dreams. He imagined what he could do, imagined what he could see, imagined what it would be like to come alive in his sleep and live in a world all his own. He daydreamed his way through dinner (which he was late for), through getting spanked for his tardiness, through parental lectures, through more spanking, and through getting sent to bed early.

Well, bed was the best place to dream, anyway.

It was still light outside when he got sent to his room, so he simply held his new dream journal and continued to daydream. Or, evening-dream? He imagined using the powers of the mind to grow huge and squash those mean bullies like bugs. He imagined swimming in the depths of the ocean and discovering the magical life there. He imagined building the world's sleekest machine that could do a million things at once.

Sunset bled into starlight. Fidds gradually slipped into sleep — and with it, dreams.

But he was so busy dreaming while awake that he hardly noticed the transition.

~~~~~

The first week passed without much incident. Fidds still got beat up — "We was worried you got eaten by the witch. Thanks for comin' back so we could pound ya!" — still got humiliated in front of the entire class — "Fiddleford, if you don't sit up and pay attention, I'll send you to the principal's office." — and still had household chores. But everything seemed better now. Even though nothing around him had changed, Fidds had changed.

He started waking up earlier so he could write in his dream journal. At first, he had almost nothing to write, but by the time a week had passed, he was remembering full narratives from his dreams. Some of those dreams were nightmares, and he shuddered to write them down — but Lilith had said told him to write whatever he could remember. Maybe if he wrote the nightmares down, they'd go away.

When it had been exactly a week, he went back to Lilith's shack. He checked his tail often as he went, afraid of getting ambushed, but he made it to her without incident. Lilith acted happy to see him — happier than anyone else did. She praised him for his efforts in dream journaling; she thanked him for the visit; she told him he was special. A strange feeling flooded through Fidds' limbs as he basked in the warmth of her smile.

That day, Lilith taught him about reality checks. "Every hour or so, you stop and make sure you're not dreaming. Once you get in the habit, it'll transfer to your dreams, and you'll become aware. You'll become lucid."

Lucid. Fidds turned the word over in his head as he left for home. The next week, he tried the reality checks that Lilith had taught him. The checks themselves weren't hard — counting fingers, pulling on loose bits of skin, holding his breath — but remembering to do them was difficult. He would get so caught up in the minutia of life that he'd completely forget. Then he'd remember that night, when it was too late, and get irritated with himself.

"That's natural," Lilith told him, when he later expressed his frustration to her. "Our minds are built against unlocking the dream world. You and me can do it by harnessing the ether, but it ain't easy. You just keep tryin', ya hear? Focus hard on the goal of accessing your powers."

Fidds scuffed his shoes on her dirt floor and mumbled something.

"Speak up, boy — I ain't deaf, but I can't hear nobody who's mute, neither."

Pink colored his cheeks. He didn't really want to repeat himself.

"C'mon, now. Speak your mind."

"Well, um, I said. . . the goal of accessing my, um, powers, seems. . . well, really far away." He gestured tentatively in her direction. "If you ain't unlocked 'em yet, I mean."

"Who's to say I ain't?"

Fidds cocked his head in confusion. Well. . . she said that. Didn't she?

Lilith shook her head at him. "You's lookin' at this like we's just gonna wake up one day with all the powers of the mind. It's more gradual than that. I already have some powers of the mind — you seen that already. I'm still workin' for more, sho, but I gots some. Righ' now, you're working for the first power: lucid dreaming. With the work you've been doing, that's not so far away."

He left that day feeling encouraged, as seemed to be the trend when he visited Lilith. He renewed his effort with reality checks, he wrote down every little thing he could remember from his dreams, and he met with his newfound mentor and friend about once a week.

All this he did in diligence until finally, a couple months after he met Lilith, he had his first lucid dream.

He stood in the middle of a cornfield, gazing up at the golden ears that budded from the tops of lush green stalks. They looked so delicious, he just wanted to take one and bite into it — but this was Ol' Man Jedidiah's farm, and he would beat you within an inch of your life if he caught you stealing.

In fact. . . he'd get angry if he so much as found you on his property. Fidds had to get out of here, quick.

He started running through the cornfield, brushing against the long leaves of the corn stalks without feeling them. He ran and ran until the cornfield spit him out onto an open plain. Fidds stumbled to a stop — the plain ended just a few feet away in a sudden cliff.

Curiosity seized him, and he edged his way to the drop-off. Sure enough — this was Lilith's cliff. The water below threw up droplets that sprayed into Fidds' vision. He gazed down at the trees and water below and idly wondered when Lilith would be able to fly.

Thinking of Lilith reminded him about his goal to lucid dream. When was the last time he'd done a reality check? He'd better do one now. He pinched at the skin on the back of his hand and pulled.

It stretched like taffy before his eyes.

For a second, Fidds just stared at it. Wait — wait, did that mean — was he —

"I'm dreaming," he realized aloud.

He loved the sound of that sentence so much that he said it again. "I'm dreaming. I'm — I'm dreaming! This is a dream!"

He ran alongside the cliff and shouted it to the dreamworld as loud as he possibly could. "I'm dreaming!"

In his excitement, he woke himself up.

The sky outside his window was the pre-dawn purple of a new day. Fidds sat up and blinked blearily, while his brain scrambled to orient itself in time and space. What day was it? Saturday, right? Or was it still Friday evening? Was it dark outside because it was morning, or because it was night?

Then his eyes widened as he remembered.

The dream.

He'd. . . he'd done it.

He flopped back onto his pillow and let the memories flow over him. Excitement like he'd never felt before filled his lungs. Excitement mixed with wonder mixed with an otherworldly sense of greatness.

A hysterical little laugh escaped him. Otherworldly. He'd visited another world.

Eventually, he rolled over and grabbed his dream journal. He was far too excited to go back to sleep now, and he wanted to capture the beauty of the dream before it slipped from his mind. There wasn't much to remember, since the dream had been so short, and Fidds felt he could recall most of it. The problem wasn't remembering, it was. . . it was finding the words to describe the experience. How on earth could he describe the feeling of becoming lucid? He wanted to bottle it up so he could feel it later, whenever he needed a pick-me-up. He wanted to share it with the entire world. Words weren't enough to do that.

Still, they were all he had. He finished writing in his dream journal and went about his day. The giddy feeling from his dream lingered, but gradually slipped away as he did his Saturday chores. Later the excitement trickled back, when he told his parents he was going out to play, though he was actually visiting Lilith.

She acted absolutely thrilled when he told her, and they celebrated together. That strange, happy feeling came back as Fidds talked with her about his first taste of lucidity. Her happiness for him was almost better than the dream itself, to tell the truth.

"Well?" she eventually asked. "Is it worth it? This is your first mental power — is it worth the work to keep going?"

"Yes," Fidds said immediately.

Lilith's face broadened into a wide smile. She didn't speak for a moment, just let that smile light the room. Then, "I'm glad I met you, Fidds," she said.

Fidds ducked his head shyly. "M-me too, ma'am."

"Oh, don't ma'am me." Lilith waved a dismissive hands. "We're friends now, yes? Two special people headed for glory. Together."

Fidds didn't know how to react to that — he'd never really had friends before — so he just gave her a foolish grin.

She reached out and took his hand, patting it in a grandmotherly fashion. "I have this feeling about you, Fiddleford," she said. "It be lingering since I first met you, yessir. Call it a premonition, but I just know you's special."

"Is that a power?" he asked, his eyes wide. "Premonition?"

Her head tilted in a slight nod. "You have a great destiny, Fidds. One I'm just lucky to be a part of." She pulled him closer with an intense look in her eyes. "You're meant for great things, my boy. The ether swirls around you in a complicated pattern, too intricate to decipher. Whatever your fate, it's a big one. It'll coincide with the motions of the ether."

Fidds just stared at her. "Motions of the ether," he mouthed. The phrase felt too precious to voice aloud, but his mouth formed the words. Though he had little idea what they meant, an excited shiver rushed through him.

"Yes," Lilith said with a knowing smile.

"A-are you sure?" he asked. "I'm — I'm not special, I'm just a nobody."

Lilith stared at him in disbelief. "A nobody? A nobody? You jus' had a lucid dream, and you's telling me you're a nobody?"

"I-it wasn't very long or nothin'," Fidds mumbled.

"That don't matter," Lilith said firmly. "It happened, and you just said you're gonna make it happen again. You're on your way to harnessing the powers of the mind. When you move, the very ether moves with you." She shook her head and smiled. "If that's not special, I dunno what is."

"Woah." It was all Fidds could think to say.

"Woah, indeed," Lilith agreed. She patted his hand again. "Thanks for letting me teach you."

"Th-thanks for teachin' me," he stammered.

"It'd be a shame to not to," Lilith said, and she leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes. Her fingers gently rubbed the back of Fidds' hand. "It'd be a shame."