You don’t have to be so gentle with my hand. You can squeeze it if you want.

Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 3rd Generation
Current Date: March 30, 2058

Character: Merrick Lauroyal
Race: Halfling – Elf (moon) / Human
Age: 34, physically about 26
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
 

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I’ve once more started writing down the snippets of the dreams I do remember. A bit if I wake up at night, a few notes with a very low-light setup so as to not wake my pair, and a bit more of what I do recall when I do wake up properly in the mornings. I still haven’t really added to the whole possible-book idea I’d first thought about. Not after I balked at the whole idea.

Still, I think that writing down the details of what happens in the dreams—always wandering, always through, or so it seems, clear tunnels that give me sight to places I can’t even really imagine as being part of this world. Skies that are a wholly different colour, water that’s purple-tinged instead of blue-green, more than a single sun. Not all of the places are foreign but a lot of the recent ones seem to be.

The one big thing that has changed in recent dreams is that I seem to have come across signs of intelligent life. I’m not saying that the animals I’ve come across in my roaming are not intelligent, but up until this point, the places I would visit were always centred on nature. Jungles, seas, deserts. Things that showed no visible signs of inhabitants other than what I figured was the wildlife.

Now, I’m no expert in wildlife, especially not potentially wildlife in worlds that I might know very little about. All I know is that all that I saw in these dreams looked like what I might imagine wild animals might have been.

A few weeks ago, though, I was roaming a jungle-like area that honestly looked a lot like what I’ve seen through the AI. Jungles of the likes of what might have been present so much longer than the vast majority of us might have been alive. Jungles that might have seen the presence of dinosaurs. The one big difference with this very jungle is that I felt very, very small. As though I had been miniaturized. It was a strange sensation to be certain.

At one point, in a bare little clearing—and that is saying a lot considering the size of everything—I saw two things that looked vaguely humanoid. I don’t know what they might have been. I don’t know if they were real or not; this was a dream, after all. What makes me think that they were at least intelligent to a point was that they were in the process of building what looked like a shelter.

The bigger one of the two—a good head taller than the other one—seemed as though it was getting spooked at every turn. The littler one would take its hand and squeeze it. It’s hard to put into words the situation as it was happening, a sort of comfort being offered from one to the other but, to me, it almost seemed to me as though the littler one was telling its taller companion that it didn’t have to be so gentle with its hand, that it could squeeze if it wanted.

It feels weird to be thinking of them as it, but I did mean what I said about them seeming humanoid. The shape was just very vaguely there, and they walked on two legs but it was hard to pinpoint much of anything else as far as they were concerned. And as they were strange beings to me, ‘it’, seems like a good way to look at them, in the end.

They were the only breathing—if I can even look at it that way—sign of intelligent life I saw in my dreams. There were other signs but none quite like that. The remains of a primitive-looking building in another dream. The wreck of a ship under the water. Little things here and there. They’re certainly not common, though.

I still note down what I do remember but I still don’t know that I’ll turn this into a book yet. I’m still not sold on the idea though I know I could probably find someone who’d be willing to illustrate the whole thing. It wouldn’t be a story book; just a gathering of information on the wandering of an unknown soul but still. I have to start somewhere, right? I just don’t know. The idea seems so foreign, and I’m worried I’d get frustrated since I’d probably want the images to be as close to what my memory recalls of the places than not.

I just don’t know.

I know that I have my whole life ahead of me to figure these things out and I’m sure I eventually will but not just yet.

Final Word Count: 786

I won’t say you’re wrong, but you’re definitely not right either.

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 3rd Generation
Characters: Merrick Lauroyal
Race: Halfling – Elf (moon) / Human
Age: 33, physically about 26
Current residence: Atheria City, Eresiel
Final Word Count: 792 words
 

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Two years ago, I started writing down the snippets I remembered from my dream and, as I woke up in the mornings, recalling another rare dream—yes, I’m aware that it’s most likely the other way around—I would note down the biggest points that I did recall. There were always a few more details written down when I would take note of things right after waking up but, if you think about it, I’m pretty sure this is normal. You’ve freshly woken up, the dream is right there at the edge of your mind, as fresh as your wake-up moment.

Up until about six months ago, all I really did was take notes. I would wake up in the mornings and, if I remembered dreaming, I would note down what I remembered. I filled in about half a notebook worth of information, most of it centring on the places I would visit more than on anything I might have felt during those visits since that wasn’t really the point of noting down these things.

So six months ago, feeling like I had enough of, well, everything to possibly try to write something out, I sat down one afternoon with my book on one side, another book on the other, and a pencil in my hand because clearly, I’m old-fashioned—but really, I just type weirdly slow on a keyboard, I never really picked up on that—and I started writing down a series of ideas as to what a maybe-book could be about. I had a feeling that if I was to try and just start writing this book from the ground up with nothing to really base myself on, other than half a notebook worth of dream imagery, I wouldn’t manage to get very far.

So, I wrote down a sort of storyline. I had the vague outline of a potential wanderer, the places that wanderer was going to go to and all and once I had all of that written down, I ended up staring at all that new stuff and I balked. It wasn’t a story. Not in the literature sense of it. There was a beginning, sure. There was a potential end that I could possibly manage but all I’d had in mind, at this point, was for this stranger to wander. I couldn’t imagine that idea of dangers, of story arcs, of, well, anything that might make a story, a story.

It’s at that point that I think I sort of half-heartedly started arguing with myself about how it didn’t have to be a story, just the rambled roaming of a wanderer. That was a thing, right? I’m no artist, but maybe with the AI, or I guess I could ask someone, I could add art to the pages. So, it wouldn’t really be a story at this point, not really.

You know you’re not sold on something when you’re sort of half arguing with yourself about being either right or wrong, on what your project is really supposed to be.

Needless to say, I ended up putting everything off to the side and I didn’t even think about it for a while. I mean up until today, I hadn’t even gone back to look at the not-storyline I’d written out. All of the places, in potential order, that the wanderer had gone through. The places that made the most sense to me. It’s only today that I sat back down, looked through all that I’d written at this point and wrote another list. I guess I’m good at one thing and that’s writing lists.

On that list, I wrote down the pros and cons of this whole thing. It wasn’t as though I wanted it in the system any time soon if any time at all. Six months back, I’d had in mind that it was time to write out what could be, but I still didn’t even really know what it was all going to be about and I’m sure it’s pretty clear that I don’t know that it’s going to be about either at this point.

Right now, I just find myself looking at it all and wondering why I even bothered. I know that this isn’t a good way to look at it, but I feel so disheartened about it all that I’m ready to put it in a box and forget about it until I stumble onto it again. The issue with that is that through these dreams that I still do have, even if they’re uncommon, I know I’ll be reminded of the whole thing, so I just don’t know what to do. I know I’ll figure it out, but right now isn’t the time for me to do that.

Not everything has to make sense. In fact, I think it might be best that it doesn’t. At least here.

 
Timeline/World: Through the Looking Glass – Atheria 3rd Generation
Characters: Merrick Lauroyal
Race: Halfling – Elf (moon) / Human
Age: 31, physically about 26
Final Word Count: 650 words
 

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I know that if I start saying that I don’t dream much, I’ll get reminded that I likely dream about as much as everyone else, I just don’t remember any of it. So I’m not going to say that I don’t dream much, though it feels like it; I’ll go with the option that I seem to not remember my dreams very often and I think I’m fine with that because my dreams rarely make sense, though they tend to have a theme.

That theme, usually, has to do with huge, clear tunnels leading me to places. In real life, even if that tunnel was clear and safe as could be, I never would step anywhere near it. My near phobia of anything underground would be enough to keep me from stepping into it.

I seem to have fewer issues with handling this fear in the dream world than I do in real life and I’m actually pretty fine with that. I like my wide-open spaces, I like the current setup of our bedroom, I like all the windows, I like the sight of the sky. I’m a strange one and I accept that more than willingly.

In dreams, however, I know that not everything has to make sense. In fact, I honestly think it’s best that it doesn’t. I don’t want to start rationalizing the fact that I’ve dreamed I was somewhere in the middle of the ocean, walking through an endless tunnel and watching the ocean life go about their regular business all around me. If I do that, I’ll start panicking and I’ll get no enjoyment from these dreams anymore.

I’ve had other dreams like that one. One of them seemed to be putting me in the middle of the jungle but I was a few feet off the ground, it was the strangest thing. Another put me just there, roaming. I walked through valleys and mountains and that was actually really weird but not unwelcome.

The memories of these dreams, they fade a little when I’m awake, as most dreams are meant to, but they never fully fade from my mind. I can remember what I’ve dreamed about the rare times I do wake up with memories of the dream at all and I haven’t even written any of it down, though I wonder if I shouldn’t.

It certainly would make for an interesting story, maybe. The tunnel-world traveller. I might try that.

At times, though, from the images I still remember when I wake up, I know that I haven’t just sleep-wandered on this planet. I have memories of wandering through near-absolute darkness with little sparkles here and there but the longer I walked, the bigger these would get and eventually, I realized that in this particular dream, I was in space. How I was walking such long distances, I don’t know.

Now and again, I wonder if I’m not lucid-dreaming; I mean, I’m not actually completely sure what lucid dreams are meant to be like, but I’m aware I’m dreaming in the dreams I recall, does that make them lucid dream? I’ve never actually given that much thought, but as it crossed my mind recently, that idea took root some and it’s just been there, just on the edge of my mind.

You can’t really help it if the mind wanders when you’re doing somewhat repetitive work and my mind has been wandering some lately; it clearly wanders to odd subjects and places but I can’t really complain. I could be thinking about worse things than this and all in all, thinking back on the oddness that is my dreams isn’t such a bad thing.

I don’t imagine myself an artist or a writer, but I might just be able to put something together and who knows what will come of it. I won’t know until I try.

I just wanted to see how we’re doing.

 
Timeline/World: Atheria – 3rd Generation
Characters: Merrick Lauroyal
Race: Halfling – Elf (moon) / Human
Age: 30, physically about 26
Final Word Count: 601 words
 

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I work in the fields for the market, like a lot of the people in this place. It makes sense, really. This is the food we all eat, though it’s not just about the food. It’s also about materials for clothing, it’s about wood for those who use fireplaces or wood-burning ovens in the colder seasons, it’s about most of the things we use in our daily lives that cannot simply be made out of thin air.

I mean, we do have a mineshaft. I haven’t asked about what’s out there and I’m never going to look into it because mineshafts are like caves and that’s just not happening.

Anyway.

A few weeks ago, I stumbled, near literally, into a den. Inside that den, chattering away in fear, were three tiny little foxes. It was clear that they’d been left on their own for a while and I couldn’t see any traces of a parent anywhere near. I didn’t take them out of there, I didn’t want them to have to go through the doorways and be brought into a world that was completely unfamiliar to them though I’m sure everything about the world was likely unfamiliar to them, as is.

I got in touch with Faith who came and looked them over as well as she could. I think we were both trying to keep them from being handled too much. As it turned out, the little buggers were old enough to have been weaned and that was a small mercy. We figured out that it was possible their mother or their father, if not both at this point, had gone to hunt but had met an unhappy end. There are bigger predators than foxes out there, after all.

So I just did the simplest of things, at least to me, it was simple. I kept them fed. I’d drop a fresh kill for them often enough and I just watched them from afar.

I do check on them in the morning when I head in to get to work and usually before I leave. Even on my days off at this point, I head in, just to bring them food and to make sure they’re all right. They’re growing quickly and I’m sure that before long, they’ll be wandering off to find their own food and I’ll likely lose track of them. I suppose it’s not much of an issue, I’m just glad to know they’re growing up well fed and all.

Having pets isn’t really something I give much thought to and a pet fox is just one of those things I don’t imagine would work out well. I know it works out well for some, I’ve seen it, it’s not likely much different from pet tigers, panthers, wolves and other animals out there that aren’t really considered—or weren’t, I suppose—’house’ pets but still. I don’t want to have to force an animal to learn to live within the limits of a house, of a yard, of a restricted area when it could just roam free as it might want.

Maybe I’m the odd one out, I don’t mind. My need for wide open spaces is also likely the reason why I think that way. I would likely have a panic attack and likely die if I was in an area that restricted my freedom. It’s bad enough I don’t like walking in the hallway that leads to the doors in the market but it’s just one of those necessities of life and I deal with it when I get there and back. That’s all.

Why would I ever do that? Pfft, no way.

Timeline/World: Atheria 3rd Generation
Characters: Merrick Lauroyal
Race: Halfling – Elf (moon) / Human
Age: 28, physically about 26
Final Word Count: 547 words

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Just the mention of the word ‘cave’ makes my skin crawl. I mean, I can see that they’re likely pretty, I’ve seen photos in the archives of that one cave that was so big it had its own ecosystem, of the olden ones in China that looked like they had some sort of shiny crystal bits everywhere but they still were caves. That means there’s a ceiling overhead and in most cases, that’s a pretty low ceiling.

Pretty low ceilings and my brain’s desire for wide open spaces don’t go together. Anyone who knows me at least a little is aware of that particular fact and anyone I shared a grade with, likely will remember the first and last time I was allowed in to play the parachute games. I panicked, I screamed, I passed out and had to be dropped back home. It was mortifying despite the fact that we were all so young. I wasn’t really teased for it later on but I kept my head low for a long time following that particular episode.

Even my bedroom at home accommodated that particular issue I had. I was in the attic and my room had large windows on all sides plus a couple of large skylights. It was the only place I could sleep peacefully.

Now though, looking at this invite to go cave exploring, I have to wonder a little if this was just sent out to everyone with the normal personalization setup or if selected individuals had been picked because the invite was to my name and there wasn’t even a second one. I know some invites are coded to DNA so whoever opens it, it adapts but it’s hard to tell with this one.

Seriously though. Who would have the brilliant idea of exploring a cave? I’ll tell you who. Not me. That’s who. That’s a crazy idea and I’m not going anywhere near a cave at any point.

At least my claustrophobia doesn’t extend to being under water. I love being in the water and swimming, I love being under the water, it’s so vast and endless and just weightless, it’s perfect. Put a cave roof over my head though and that turns into a big fat nope. Call me childish, I don’t care. You’re not the one who gets panic attacks when you step into a place where the roof is just a little too low or the walls too close. Get stuff from the closet? I’m the idiot who can’t and I have to let her do it. That’s why we have a large walk-in pantry with shifting walls. It’s all an illusion, I know the walls and ceiling are still there but to me, it looks like I’m looking right on outside when I step in there and while I’ve been spooked at night now and again by passing shadows, it makes me feel better.

Docs can’t tell where the phobia started or why it started at all. As far as I recall it’s always been there. I work well with my problems; I deal with them as I can but this cave diving and discovery thing? That’s bullshit and it’s going right into the recycle bin. That’s it. End of that one, can’t change my mind.