“You have a choice, Elicia. If you truly wish to know who you are, then allow yourself to dream deeper. There is no going back and no second chance, so choose wisely. You will be confronted with the truth of your identity; your flaws and strengths and ideals will be clear and exposed, and you will never again be able to lie to yourself about who you are. If you are brave, then all you have to do is dream. Otherwise, wake and forget.”
Part One: Beginnings
I knew I was asleep. I could picture sheep hopping a fence, I had that strange but familiar awareness that I could fly if I so wished, and I seemed to see without my eyes, but that did not make that voice any less powerful as it rocked back and forth through my mind like a tide building on the shore. I had never experienced a lucid dream before, but this did not feel quite like what I had expected. I was told that if I were to get over my past and discover my future, this was the way to go.
“Just let your body paralyze itself, but keep your mind active. Write down your dreams and train yourself to know the difference between reality and your imagination. Ever since I mastered it I just feel so in touch with who I really am. Just imagine being able to do anything you want, consequence free! Just think of that cute boy in your calculus class!” Shawna winked as she signed off of Skype, three days before my first lucid dream.
What Shawna didn’t point out was that lucid dreaming was hard; it didn’t come naturally, and was just as likely to make a girl too stressed to sleep as it was to let her live out all of her wildest fantasies and explore her inner psyche. As luck would have it, even wearing my most comfortable tank-top and bundled in blankets, I found my mind unraveling as I attempted to tame it and master this new talent.
Maybe it was the three days sleeplessly spent that triggered such an unusual event, but on that third night I found myself feeling exceptionally present in a large, dark chamber filled with the sounds of wind and the ocean and a purposeful voice that permeated my core. And there I found myself, seemingly thrust as deep as imaginable in exactly the kind of experience I had longed for, and with a voice as clear as a midsummer’s night telling me that I had to choose whether I really wanted to experience clarity at all.
I weighed my options quite literally in those moments, forming a balance in my mind, and throwing my worries and hopes onto relative scales. I’m sure that I saw the worries winning, but the echo of the voice in my head seemed stronger than reason. The scales faded and in their place was a massive replica of my bed, covered in a comforter that would keep an Inuit warm on Pluto.
I lay on the bed I had conjured, and went through the steps that Shawna and I had discussed a dozen times in the last week.
And then I wasn’t on my bed at all, and I had the sense that even my waking body had been moved as well. I was disconnected from the world I knew, that much was clear, and a flood of sensations poured into my body. I was bombarded by a host of faint scents I could hardly identify; salty, earthy tones with hints of fruit and fresh growth that I had no idea I could place until that very moment. Then there was the rough, chilled feeling of grass along my entire body, but the blades, though angular, were as soft as if they had been sanded down by an artisan gardener with tissue paper skin. As the scent picked up in my nose, so did the chill, and I recognized a soft but tantalizingly sweet breeze all up the length of my body.
As a sleeper, I awoke, testing my arms and lifting my body, stretching my eye lids open with care for the impending sunshine that threatened to blind. I crawled to my feet and realized that I was naked, but also wonderfully alone. Around me were simply trees with an unrecognizable fruit of a light green hue, and below me was an unusually blue shade of grass, unkempt, but not unruly, and growing vitally in all directions. This was not the planet I knew, and definitely not home. There I was, naked and alone, but for some reason instead of fear, I felt peace.
“One takes nothing into the world, and leaves with the same. Those rules apply to lives and deaths of all nature, even those that are transient. This world is new to you, and so you shall start new, with only your identity remaining. Please, follow the sea breeze to find me. Your journey has only yet begun.”
The voice did not have the opportunity to knock me off-guard this time. Now it was soothing, and suited the land I found myself in. I worried, briefly, about clothing, but was certain that was an issue best dealt with in the moment. So, taking the advice of my unknown guide, I took a deep breath, allowing the fresh air to suffuse through my body, and I knew without question that the salt in the air was leading me directly to my destination.
In my old life, I had been comfortable in nature. I looked forward to dragging whoever would agree deep into the woods to find long-forgotten waterfalls or stone arches. I scaled trees just for the adventure of it and loved to challenge myself. It had always seemed to me the best way to embrace who I was. In the wilderness, I denied the very thing that society screamed loudest at me that I required; comfort. Instead, I would make myself as uncomfortable as possible. If a lake was frozen, I’d walk until I found the softest part, and stomp just to test my luck. If my socks were soaked through in the middle of winter, I’d walk on until my toes were too numb to go further. If I fell and cut myself, I’d kiss the wound clean and put pressure on it until it stopped bleeding. Why should I baby myself when I have potential that’s gone unspent?
I kept all of this in mind as I walked through that delicate batch of seaside woodland. I knew little, and cared not, that the trees with their thick dark boughs and myriad colored oval leaves had no place along a coast in my world, but I was comfortable with them there, like old friends I had always meant to meet up with. It was striking to me that the very endeavor I sought to make me as uncomfortable as possible was the same that made me the most comfortable I ever was. A plush bed had nothing on the warm sun through the trees. No college degree felt more satisfying than the feeling of discovery I had when wandering through the unknown.
What I hadn’t kept in mind until that point was that there was a point to being in the wilderness besides the feelings within me. It was not exploration without observation, and I had done little to remain aware of where I actually was, save for to walk in a straight line toward the breeze. I slowed my pace for a moment and looked around and was stunned to discover the trail of beasts.
I call them beasts for a specific reason; these were not animals. These were not squirrels and dogs or pigeons. They did not know me as a human, and their curiosity of me seemed savage, they begged for no scraps and did not fear me as a predator. And more than that, their appearances were unique to me. This seemed the land of the duckbilled platypus, where animals were a variety of colors and seemed longer or stouter or more angular than the animals I had ever known.
I did not realize at first either that I should have felt embarrassed having so many watchful eyes gazing onto my naked body, beasts or not, but when this thought crossed my mind it felt like a triviality. The beasts too were clothed only in their nature, albeit a more colorful display than my own pale skin, but I felt at peace with that too. My beauty shouldn’t be about what I should be, but what I am, and this notion comforted me.
“Child, there is much to see in this land, and this forest is only a welcoming to a long journey. Hasten yourself lest I leave you behind to discover myself alone!”
“Hold your horses! I’m on my way! You said there was no turning back, so don’t leave me so soon!” My voice sounded softer to my own ears, as if the air was richer and smoother, like breathing creamy foam rather than dry gas. I liked it.
The voice too, must have liked it, because the same deep, languid voice echoed through my head in a chuckle. Perhaps I was sounding impetuous, but I do not believe that was unwelcome. I did listen, too. I set out at a quick jog, and watched in amusement as the beasts followed me like my own personal guard. These woods were only the start, I reminded myself. I would observe what I could, but the coast line called to me.
The coast felt less foreign to me than the woods had. The water was a rich, vibrant blue and the sand was a light yellow-brown color. Rocks and boulders scattered the coast, appearing to be composed of the same ores from my own world, and despite my rush, I found myself sitting down bare on the sand, comforted by how fine the grains were. I attempted not to think about how the sweat on my body would make removing the sand impossible.
“Ho, child! Are you tired so soon, before you’ve even journeyed more than a few miles? We have leagues to cover!”
“What, where are you? I heard that this time!” For the first time, my nakedness embarrassed me. Beasts were one thing, they were natural as I was, but this voice sounded wizened, beyond me, and I did not want to shame myself in front of it.
“Look in front of you, I have been here this whole time!” The rumbling chuckle proceeded again, and now I felt it tingle over my uncovered skin as I clutched my body tight and looked around.
I didn’t notice it at first or second glance, but when I did, the awe was profound. What I believed was an odd copse of trees on a hill, which seemed far less unusual than the woods behind me, revealed itself as the source of the voice that had been calling me. A long, leathery, serpentine neck extended in front of the hill, up many times my height into the sky and it was from there that the voice emitted. I was certain it wore a crooked grin, and self-consciously I believed it was amused by my embarrassment.
“You… you’re a talking island! A really big talking island!” I began staggering to my feet as the realization set in, but then I remembered myself and sat quickly back down to cover myself again, and the resulting splay of sand was uncomfortably forceful.
The island began to rise up, and then splashed down in a flurry of sand and water that mocked my own movements, “An island, my child? I am a grand tortoise of the Dolgeon islands, and am over three hundred years old! These flippers are not merely for show, and I would not promise a journey if I were unable to move! Now come, wash yourself in the tide then climb my back. There is a house upon me which should suit your humility, and we can talk once you’re covered!”
I sat there, hesitant, and unsure what to make of this turn of events. In hindsight, a giant turtle on the beach hardly measured up to the oddities of the beasts and trees behind me, but for some reason I had a difficult time wrapping my mind around that moment. The tortoise took my trepidation for more insecurity, and turned aside his face before bellowing once more, “Go on, child! We have much to discuss!”
At this, I hurried, scurrying into the water and quickly rinsing off all of the sand and sweat that clung to my body. The water was of course salty, but less than the beaches I had been to in the past, and it felt nice on my skin. Somewhat cleansed, I jumped up on a flipper and pulled myself up on top of his massive shell.