Daisies, Dreams, and Dragon Spells

Chapter 13 - Penny

“Get down!”

Lucien and I dove for cover behind the stone bench. “Your training partners have arrived,” he said Rolling onto my side, I watched the dragons fly, twist, and move in such a fluid motion they seemed to braid the air behind them. .

“Fluffy and Fido? But how?” I shook my head. “You can see them?” I struggled to sit up for a better view, but Lucien pushed me back down and hissed.

“Lie flat. They’re not done yet. Watch. And learn.” He pointed to them as they created a pattern among the clouds. “Your mother and I may have called you our little cloud watcher. But you were really watching them, weren’t you?” He flourished a hand toward the dragons. “It’s ok. They’ve been watching you, too. Waiting for you.”

The dragon hatchlings, who weren’t so little anymore, finished their air show, and landed. It was like old friends had arrived. Friends I’d grown up with, who’d moved away, and returned. “I didn’t imagine them.”

“No. But they only ever appeared to you in this world.” Lucien stood between me and the dragons, his silver eyes boring into mine. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

I looked behind him at the dragons and remembered: Callie had never believed me. I’d told her once when I’d first seen them. But then, she’d rolled her eyes, thrown up her hands, and shouted, “I give up,” and assumed they were figments of my imagination.

“Callie doesn’t know. She can’t see them.” My words sounded stilted, even to me. How long had our twin connection been severed? Had it been severed even then?

“How do you know I’ve seen them before?” Lucien’s shoulders slumped, then he looked back at me with an expression I could have sworn I’d seen once on Callie’s face. A bit dramatic, but then, I hardly knew the man.

“Because I was there when they first appeared to you. You thought it was a dream.” He paused and quirked his mouth. “I suppose it was a dream in a way.” He shook his head. “I’ll explain more later, but right now, they’re here to help you train.”

“How?” I held up my hand before he could answer. “Training. Shouldn’t Callie be here then? Two sides of the same—.”

Lucien moved his hands as if he were drawing something in the air. If I concentrated, I knew I could see the picture he intended.

“Just you, Penny. There will be no Callie today.” It seemed he pulled the air apart like taffy, then twisted and braided it.t. “Focus on my hands and copy their movements exactly.”

Focus? How can I focus? Something is wrong. I have always trained with Callie. There is no way he suddenly just decided we were individuals, did he? I looked at Lucien slack jawed as he continued as if training without Callie was not a big thing, a mere blip on his radar.

He moved toward the dragons and held something up for them I couldn’t see. “If you please,” he said. I’d been copying his movements, but when the dragons breathed their flame, what I hadn’t been able to see became form of what he’d constructed; a daisy chain encircling and intertwining three feathers. At this rate, I’d need a shovel to pry my jaw off the ground.

I dropped my hands to my sides and stared. “How-how did you do that? What did you do? What is that?”

“Do you remember that summer you wanted to do nothing more than make daisy chains? You must have made hundreds of them, and you would always put them on that placid lake in front of the house.” Lucien motioned to the dragons, and they settled on the ground, curling up catlike and watching me.

“I remember.” I closed my eyes. The lake was so still. But the colors had been all wrong. Reds. Oranges. Fire. And dragons. I’d seen dragons in the water unable to tell if they were friend or foe.

“Imagine that now. See those daisies in your mind’s eye and your hands weaving them into circlets.” Lucien smiled. “Necklaces and crowns for your friends, you’d said.” His smile faded. “Now!” he commanded, and the dragons rose to circle me breathing fire rings.

The vision of braiding those daisy chains went up in smoke.

“It’s been too long,” he muttered. “Let’s try something more tangible.” He gathered blades of grass and, after a few minutes of searching, found a collection of daisies growing at the edge of the clearing. Lucien handed me what he had gathered, and said, “Make the chains in this world, and watch your hands. See how they move as they knot each piece to the other. Leave no spaces. Keep it tight. When you’re ready, I’ll show you how to weave those chains into shapes.” He looked at the dragons. “Begin to think about what might help a dragon or you if you’re on a dragon’s back. Perhaps a sword and sheath. Or a saddlebag with tricks of your own making. Be creative.”

I took what he had gathered, closed my eyes, and began my chains. My shoulders relaxed. My mind cleared.

“Imagine if everyone dreamed the same dream, and the focus of that many people made something a reality,” Lucien said. “If the dream is good, and good for all, then it might lead to a utopia of sorts.” He snorted. “Never did care for the word utopia. It implies perfection, which is something to aspire to, but can never be obtained. Because there can be no light without dark and vice versa. But there is a place as near to utopia as one can get and to dystopia as well.” and the world of its opposite.”

I glanced up at my daisy chains, and, while braided, there were spaces everywhere. “There are three levels of”—he rubbed a hand across his mouth— “I suppose you might call it consciousness. Though that’s not really what it is. There is no word I know of that truly encompasses what I’m about to tell you.”

I unraveled the chains to begin again. Lucien gestured to the dragons. “Let her get some practice first, then try to distract her. We’ve given her quite a bit already, don’t you think?” The dragons nodded as if they understood him and laid their heads back down.

“Why can’t Callie see them?”

“They’re not meant for her.” Lucien sighed and turned away. Silver droplets glistened at the corner of his eye and gave him away.

“Why me? What am I?”

“May I finish? You might learn all the answers to your questions.” He took the chain I’d been working on, pulled it apart, and handed it back. “Again.” Lucien leaned forward and picked another daisy. This one he held and twirled as he spoke. “Now where was I? Ah yes, the levels.

“The first level is where we are right now. You might call it your reality or the real world or the world that is most normal for you. The second level is the daydream world and is not a place to stay too long. It’s too easy to get lost.” Lucien’s silver eyes glinted in the sun, and he leaned forward. “You don’t want to fall into this world. It’s dangerous even for those who know it’s there, and what’s expected of them. Dùsgadh is the third level, my reality. It means ‘awakening,’ and it is where dreams—and nightmares—are made. To move within it, Dùsgahd must be as real in your mind as your world is for you every day. The second and third levels have another name, the dreamscape.” Lucien took a breath, raised his gaze to the sky, and looked back at me with an expression I couldn’t read. I lifted my chin and set my shoulders back.

“And you are a Dreamscape Priestess.” Lucien shrugged. “Well, you will be. There are a few things to learn first, and this is the tip of the iceberg, as you say.”

I kept weaving, not truly registering what he’d said. If he had some idea about what was wrong with mom and Callie, those answers were more important. “Yeah, mom and Callie used to talk about it. I could hear them through the wall sometimes.” I paused. “You know what’s wrong with them, don’t you?”

Lucien tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to catch up to what he said. As the words sunk in, I stared first at Lucien then down at my hand with the feathers tattooed in the palm. It was not possible.

“No. I am not the Dreamscape Priestess. Callie is. Always was. Always will be.” I raised my head as I spoke, and frowned as Lucien tucked his lips together.

“As for your mother and Callie, I don’t know much, but I have my suspicions. Once they’re confirmed, I may be able to help.” He lifted his palms up. “Until then …” He smiled, “Until then, we train.”

Some noise I couldn’t distinguish caught my attention. It had been eerily quiet in the clearing. A faint whoosh came from the dragons flying upward , but whatever it was I heard wasn’t coming from them. I tried to catch Lucien’s eye, but he stayed focused on the leaves of the tree above him, his face set in hard angle to the sunlight streaming through the trees. “It’s nothing,” he said quietly.

“You heard it too?”

“Yes.”

I had heard the sound before, a long time ago. In the deepest recesses of my memory, I saw Lucien at the water’s edge with me and Callie or in the lake house, and when the sound came then, he left. A chill ran down my spine. Someone was calling Lucien, and I could hear it as clearly as he could. I’d always known, I suppose, it had something to do with him, but I’d never been sure what.

“Okay, I’m just about done here.” I held up the fifteenth daisy chain.

“Better. Much better. Now try to build this chain in your mind while I talk.” He motioned to the dragons. “And they’ll do their part to distract you.” He smiled, but something was wrong. I didn’t have much time to think about it; Fluffy and Fido divebombed me as I worked and tried to get answers. One of those crazy dragons even tried to sit in my lap. My silent pleading was lost on Lucien.

“Remember what I said about focus and intent? Choose what to focus on, the rest will filter in and out as needed.”

“What do you know about mom, Callie, and why am I the chosen one or whatever? What made me so special? I never asked for it.” I stared at the completed chain in my lap, the dragons circling overhead offered a strange comfort I hadn’t expected.

“You never fully understood, did you? Callie was the oldest, so by birthright, she was born to be the Dreamscape Priestess, but you, too, are of the Alexander line, and have the same abilities. You are nobility in my world, the Dùsgadh.” Lucien glanced toward the dragons. “But when you first began seeing the dragons, the traditions changed. There’s been only one other before you who could see the dreamscape dragons on the Earth plane. She believed if her light was bright enough, she could pierce the darkness, and save the man she loved.”

“Who was she?” I asked as Fluffy and Fido settled down, but this time, they flanked me. Lucien put a finger to his pursed lips, his eyebrows knit together. I opened my mouth to ask, “Do you know or don’t you?” , but he began to speak.

“She was the original dream weaver.” He shrugged.

“What’s the difference? Isn’t the Dreamscape Priestess the Dream Weaver?”

“In a perfect world, they are one and the same.” He must have seen the look on my face because he pumped his hand downward as if to calm a tirade. I put my hands on my hips and shook my head.

“I’m not Callie, remember?” He gave me a disapproving look. I gestured impatiently for him to continue and clamped my mouth shut.

“Every thousand years, a dream weaver soul is born; and every generation, a Dreamscape Priestess is born. When a dream weaver dies or is dying, they can determine into whom their soul should reside, and often choose a Dreamscape Priestess.” I followed his gaze to the sky and saw only clouds. “The Alexander line is the oldest of the Dreamscape Priestesses, but there have been … are others.” He clasped his hands in front of him and took a deep breath. “There has been chatter that the dream weaver made a choice no one expected.

“Because her thousand years got cut short?”

“That’s right.”

Somewhere in the back of mind, I realized the birds had stopped singing, there was no breeze, no rustle of leaves, and it seemed as if both I and the dragon hatchlings held our breath. I blinked out of the fog of information overload and struggled to ask a question. It must be important or surely it would have come out easily. Before I could open my mouth, Lucien continued. His voice was different, nostalgic.

“She could move like lightning and had a kind heart. How everything got so twisted, I’ll never really know. Though we all had a part to play, in one way or another, to get us here.” Lucien frowned. “It is said this was all by design. To set it right, we all have parts to play again with a few casting changes.” One side of his mouth curved into a teasing smile.

“Aww, you made a joke. Cute. Now explain what on earth you’re talking about.” I peered at him, my eyebrows tight together. “Or whom.” There was that sound again. At first, I thought it was the church bells that called me into the dream world, but the sound was loud, bold. The heavy dong dong dong that takes someone pulling on a long rope pull to get the hammer to hit the inside. The sound grew louder, deafening in the silence, and I was relieved to discover Lucien heard them too. He turned to the dragons and drew an oval above their heads with his finger. They looked at the oval as it shimmered, then back to Lucien. I almost didn’t catch his curt nod, so struck was I that Lucien had t drawn a portal in the air. It shimmered again and the dragons flew through.

“Hopefully, they can cause a little interference while I finish. Did your mother tell you nothing?”

“You didn’t either. You could have, but it was more important to train us. And I don’t mean making daisy chains.” I tucked my lips together and pulled them in huffing through my nose. “Dreams are coming back, Lucien,” I whispered. “Bodies and fire. Lucien’s raised his hand, palm out.

“Who told you those were dreams?” he asked, his tone sharp.

“Callie. Who else?”

“And your mother?”

“No, she said only to observe. To keep my eyes open. To watch for—” I took a step back. “She gave me the camera as what, a prop?”

Lucien chuffed. “Something like that. But I haven’t answered your questions.” He leaned against a tree, crossed his legs, and added, “While I can’t yet fully explain everything, I can tell you this. A Dream Weaver is born every thousand years.” I opened my mouth and he raised his palm. “Let me finish.”

“Sorry.”

Lucien smiled. “But a Dreamscape Priestess is born every generation.”

“Okay.” I crossed my arms and studied him.

“The Dream Weaver keeps the worlds together. She exists as long as the worlds are in balance, and as rifts occur, she knows it is time to ‘pass the torch.’ Sometimes, she passes it to the next Dreamscape Priestess, who is more of a keeper of the balance, than a Dream Weaver herself.” Lucien took a breath and squatted to pick at a blade of grass. “It’s a lot to take in, I know.”

“But. There is always a but, isn’t there?”

Lucien laughed, though there was no humor in it.

“But,” he repeated. “Once in a great while, the Dream Weaver and the Dreamscape Priestess are the same. Though they are often two, it can happen that the demands required to balance the worlds require someone who can handle both the responsibility of being the keeper of the worlds and managing the dreams and lives of those in the worlds to keep said balance. Does this make sense?”

“It’s starting to.”

“Good,” he said, raise himself, leaned back against the tree, and pointed to my hand. “Let me see your palm.”

Not realizing I’d ever closed it; I opened my fist and held my palm up for him. “The reason you see dragons, the reason you have those feathers tattooed in your palm—and I suspect you’ll have a third very soon—is because I believe you are that soul. And I’m not the only one.” He frowned and gazed at the clouds. They danced across the sky and morphed into images. Lucien raised a hand toward the clouds in mock salute, his mouth pinched shut. Then he sighed and stepped from the tree he’d been leaning against. “I must go, Penelope,” he said. This was news. I’d been trying to focus, and he was leaving?

“Go? Go where?”

“I can’t tell you. Not yet, but” he started and put a hand to his ear. “Do you hear that?” he asked.

“No. Should I?”

He sliced the air with his hand, “Never mind it for now,” he said, and continued, “You need to know this much if nothing else. Brigid Duncan, Oscar’s mother, was a dream weaver and followed the threads that exist between each of us. She gave her life for your mother and sister. Just like I always told her she would,” he paused. “It’s a lot at once, I’m sorry. But as I’ve said before, we are short on time, and things that should take years to learn, you must learn in days.” Lucien took a deep breath.

“I’ll return as soon as I am able. The Council—” He disappeared into the tree.

“The Council what?” I called after him. He was gone. Again. As usual. My head was spinning.

Dream Weavers and Dream Priestesses, there’s a difference? Something terrible happened to Callie and mom, but it could have been worse if Brigid Duncan hadn’t stepped in. Why would she give her life for theirs?

This was all too much. I collapsed and beat at the earth with my fists. I had no idea what to do next and anyone that could help me was either not around or mentally unavailable. My deep, guttural, primitive scream pierced the silence. I never wanted to be the damned priestess, and I sure as hell didn’t want to be the Dreamweaver. I didn’t want the responsibility of juggling the balance of three worlds.

“Get it all out, love. You’ll feel better.”

Mom? The voice sounded so much like her, but it was different. It couldn’t be her. She’s in a coma. Or suspended between worlds?

“Who’s there?” The voice that wasn’t my mother’s sounded stronger.

©Lisa Rogers. This story has been written from my head by my hand for more years than I care to count. Completed December 2024. All Rights Reserved.

Welcome, new readers and subscribers! If you’re just catching up, I’ve posted the links to the first twelve chapters below.

Chapter 1 - The Silver Feather
Chapter 2 - Lucien’s Visit
Chapter 3 - Callie
Chapter 4 - Oscar
Chapter 5 - Shades of Crimson and White
Chapter 6 - Dreamweaver Training Begins
Chapter 7 - The Mark of Callie
Chapter 8 - Dreams for Sale.
Chapter 9 - Dragons and Dreams
Chapter 10 - What the Warriors Knew
Chapter 11 - Haunting Callie
Chapter 12 - Oscar: Patron of the Arts

I have gone back-and-forth ad nauseum about whether or not to serialize this book and have decided to rip off the Band-Aid(tm) or plaster, if you prefer.

Disclaimer: it’s not going to be perfect, but it has been story coached, developmental, and line-edited, any typos or similar issues are mine and mine alone.

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