Dreamwalker

By jinnis

"Thank you for your time, doctor. I'll consider your suggestions." I kept a straight face, despite my misgivings.

"Very well, Mrs Batten. We will see us next week, then. I'll prepare the paperwork."

I nodded and closed the door behind myself, listening to the soft click that sealed the end of this part of my life. This was it. I wouldn't come back to this place, whatever happened. It wasn't worth the hassle—nor the money. Sure, my dreams were too vivid to be called normal. But I had no intention to make myself the guinea pig in a study, funded by the government or the devil himself. I should never have listened to my husband in the first place.

"Go see a doctor," he'd said. "I fear you are losing it. Your dreams dominate your existence." He was right, of course. At least with the last part of his statement.

According to my parents, I've always been a dreamer. They claimed I woke them in the middle of the night, screaming or crying. They tried to wake me, comfort me—in vain. Once asleep, I wouldn't budge. The next morning, I couldn't remember. But a feeling of loss and disorientation lingered. Some days, my thoughts were shrouded by a blanket of unexplainable sadness.

I grew older, and the dreams persisted. I learned to ignore them and when asked about it, to shrug. I never remembered anything, so why bother?

This changed two months ago.

~ ~ ~

One Tuesday morning, I opened my eyes, stared at my alarm clock, and remembered. From then on, everything was different: my memories unlocked. I knew where I'd spent the night—spent every night since my early childhood.

The planet was beautiful, with purple oceans and an indigo sky. Unlike Earth, Hanala had an intact ecosystem. Our tribe of forest people lived on the eastern coast of a mountainous island, in the shade of mighty silver trees. I loved the trees, the mild climate, and my people: compared to Earth, Hanala was paradise. The forest provided everything we inhabitants needed in a perfect symbiosis. It was a happy life.

When I told John, relieved I'd found my bearings, he thought I was kidding. I made a mistake then. Instead of letting it go, I insisted and told him more about the world I passed my nights in. A fight resulted.

When the heavy weather had blown over, I swore to myself I'd never mention my dreams again. But each night, I slipped away. As soon as I closed my eyes, I returned to Hanala to live my other identity as a warden of the silver trees.

John didn't mention the incident for several weeks. I got used to my double existence, to the point where I switched from one of my bodies into the other without a thought.

~ ~ ~

In Hanala, my change didn't go unnoticed, despite my solitary life as a forest warden. When I left my shelter in the branches of a silver tree to pick up provisions in the village, an elder addressed me.

"Good to see you, Shiana. The oracle sent for you this morning."

A call of the oracle could not be neglected. I climbed the peak where the giant aliqqa tree overlooked the island and waited in front of the altar. The shrouded figure left their cave and stepped up to me.

"Shiana. I felt the change in your gift. You walk in two worlds now with open eyes. How are you?"

How could the oracle know? "I'm fine, I guess. Trying to adjust."

"It has been a while since a dreamwalker was born to the people of Hanala. It foreshadows change. Cherish your gift, Shiana, and be ready."

With this, the oracle turned and left me standing. I wanted to call them back, ask questions, but I knew I wouldn't get answers. Not now.

In the next moon, the blight started.

The first fallen leaves didn't disturb me much. But on Hanala, the trees don't shed their leaves. Something was wrong, and the forest wardens couldn't locate the reason. The elders held a council, the oracle was deep in meditation and couldn't be roused. We cancelled the solstice festival. No one felt like dancing while our trees were dying.

I carried the sorrow with me into my Earth life. John wanted to know why I cried in the night. When I told him, he sent me to the doctor. I didn't have the energy to discuss with him. My trees were dying, and part of my soul wilted with them.

When the doctor proposed to integrate me into a governmental dream study, I backed off. I was angry, and I blamed John. After dinner, I went to bed and straight back to Hanala, my heartbeat still fast and hot anger burning in my veins.

~ ~ ~

The pink sunlight filtered through the silvery leaves and painted spots on the forest floor. I stared at the dancing lights when a child brought the message. The oracle wanted to see me. I didn't waste time.

"Are you ready to follow your quest, dreamwalker?" The seer of our people sat in the shade of the mighty aliqqa tree, surrounded by crumpled, dead leaves. "Your gift alone might save us. Only a walker can pass the gate to the place that holds the cure against the blight."

"How can you know?"

"Just like you, I have a gift. But while yours is to walk the worlds, mine allows me to see into the different planes—the different worlds, if you prefer. There are many, but only one place holds the cure we need. You must find it and save the trees."

"Why me? I'm only half of this world, or plane, as you call it. My husband on Earth, he thinks I'm crazy for believing in a multiverse."

The oracle reached out a slim, four-fingered hand and touched my forehead. Warmth and strength spread through my body. "I saw you growing up, Shiana, here and on the plane with the dying trees. Do you want this place to end like your other home?"

No, I didn't. Earth was probably a lost cause, destroyed by the ruthless actions of the so-called crown of creation. The oracle was right. I had a task to fulfil, for the forest and its inhabitants. "But my dreams only ever take me to Earth. How can I enter another plane?"

"Earth is the plane your mother came from. Your father, he was one of us, the grandson of the last dreamwalker. Those two worlds are yours by heritage. But as a walker, you can visit all the planes there are—with the right key."

The oracle held out a hand an in its wrinkled palm nestled a shiny black stone, engraved with silver runes. They moved over the surface in a mesmerising dance.

"What is it?"

"The dream key to the plane that calls for you. You will find the cure in the mirror mountains. Hold this in your hand, tonight, and it will take you there."

Aware how limited my options were, I sighed. The oracle never lied. John would understand—he had to. If he knew, he would. And when I found the cure, I would return to him, to our daughter, and the life I carved for myself on Earth.

I took the key. That night, it led my dream to a cold world of ice, pristine snow drifting over frozen plains.

In the foothills of a distant mountain range, I could make out smoke curling into a turquoise sky. I closed my transparent inner lid to protect my eyes against the snow glare and pulled my heavy coat around my shoulders. When I figured out how to retract my claws, I slipped on my gloves and followed the track towards the village, anticipation speeding up the beats of my double-heart.

~ ~ ~

"She has been unresponsive for two months, now. We can't detect any brain activity. Nothing. But of course, this is your decision."

John Batten studied his wife's peaceful face. She had lost weight, and her skin was pale and waxy. Two months in a coma did his to a healthy person. His gaze wandered to the stand with the transparent plastic bag, dripping liquid and nutrients into his beloved's veins. A tear stole into his eye, and he blinked it away.

But his daughter had seen it. "It's alright, Dad. Mum would want us to let her go."

"I don't know. I can't help thinking that Jean is still alive, somewhere. She told me about strange, vivid dreams. What if she just doesn't find her way back from the worlds she visits?" He looked into the stern faces of his daughter and the doctor. "Well. Yes, you're probably right."

Tears welling in his eyes, he kissed the woman he loved one last time.

While John Batten left the hospital room, the fading beeps of the life support were swallowed by the busy hustle of a team bringing in another emergency.