An intruder in a dream and a mysterious thing called a breifcase. What more can I say?
Late the following afternoon Tris lay humming to herself in a very rare mood. She tended to be a little sharp on the outside, only showing her soft side among close friends on rare occasion. However this was a new mood for Tris. Light and free and unconditionally happy were best left describing someone else, not ill-tempered Tris. Yet it seemed that she, Trisanna Chandler, was… twiterpated. She had never heard that word before, but somehow she knew what it meant.
Tris felt a gentle tugging from the strand of magic that connected her to her foster sister Sandry. “Yes Sandry?” she asked dreamily.
“We sensed something was wrong. Are you all right?” Sandry asked worriedly.
Tris thought for a moment before happily answering “I’m fine now.”
Sandry started to say something, and then it dawned on her how Tris had answered. “So who is it?” she asked obviously pleased.
“Who is what” Tris answered, blocking Sandry from seeing what she was thinking about. Tris yawned; talking with Sandry mind to mind was exhausting from half a country away. “I’m going to go back to bed, I’m exhausted.”
Recognizing their weakening connection as a real need for rest, Sandry told her to get some rest. “Tell me everything later.”
Tris yawned looking at the three magic threads that connected her to her two foster sisters and brother. Thank goodness Sandry would probably tell Daja and Briar that she was ok. The last sleepy thought Tris had, before her eyes closed and the dreams began, was that there were four magic threads instead of three.
It wasn’t long before the boy opened his eyes. Noticing Tris in the bed across the room he contented himself with watching her slumber peacefully until the healer came in.
“I see you are awake” She walked over and helped him sit up. “Let’s get some food into you.” The boy wasn’t sure what he was eating, but it was good. After a quick examination the healer’s verdict was “Nothing in the slightest.” Curious he asked her what she meant.
Pointing across the room she began. “Yesterday when my son and I found you, we knew you were dead for sure. Your pulse was nonexistent and you were as cold as ice. I couldn’t figure out why you were even still alive.” The healer points at Tris “She gets angry at me because I can’t do a thing about it and lets loose some lightning and you get hit. I was an arm stretch away and had to heal one heck of a burn and my eyes from being so close to the lightning. You got hit directly and somehow you wake up without a mark on you. Just not natural is all.”
“Is she alright?” He asked gesturing toward Trisanna. “She will be fine; she’s just exhausted from her unintended use of magic day before yesterday. Now rest.” He closed his tired eyes and began to dream of the red haired angel across the room again.
The dream started in the clearing where the trees had been leveled outward. Standing under the weeping willow in the middle of the destruction, the boy stared at the ground. Tris came up beside him and demanded that he tell her what he was doing in her dream. He had no idea and told her so. She stared at him intently before deciding that he had told the truth.
“Fine, I’ll start with a much easier question. Who are you?” she asked, a little kinder than before.
He thought and thought and thought some more. Nothing came to him. Worry shaded his voice when he answered. “I don’t know.”
“Do you remember anything?”
“I remember waking up and talking to a nice old woman with lots of wrinkles. She gave me something to eat and said something about me being practically dead before you zapped me by accident. Oh and before that I woke up for a few seconds and called you my Angel. That’s all I remember though.
Tris smiled absently at that memory then frowned. “Do you remember that?” He looked to see a metallic box he hadn’t noticed previously.
“I have never seen it before.”
“You were holding on to it when I found you. This dream world has rules and one of them is that you can make copies of things that existed in the real world exist here, but only the parts you can remember. However, things don’t just appear here unless you make them and I didn’t make that box appear.” Angel looked perplexed. “If you don’t remember it how did it get here?” She stared at it for a moment. “I can’t get it to disappear. That must mean that it’s real. Real things like people don’t disappear unless they wake up. I’ve never had something inanimate end up here though.”
Knowing that he should be more concerned about his lack of memory the boy shrugged. Then his curiosity got the better of him and he went over to get a better look at it. Angel followed cautiously.
“You mean there are other people here?” The boy asked as he tried to figure out how to open the box.
“My friends Briar, Sandry, Daja, and I had our magic weaved together during an earthquake a few years ago. Briar discovered that we could all enter this world, a little while back, as a result of that. I wish he would hurry and get here. He might be able to figure how to open this thing.”
They examined it thoroughly but all that they discovered was that it had a handle. When she picked it up their mouths automatically supplied the word briefcase but neither of them knew what that was.
“Why am I sharing your dreams? You obviously don’t know who I am, how am I connected to you?” This is one twisted, weird, and intensely vivid dream, the boy thought to himself.
“Maybe it’s because I accidentally zapped you with my magic. Whether it is permanent or not, however, I don’t know.” She was looking at him strangely so he quickly changed the subject.
“So we wait till what’s his name falls asleep and comes along or we wake up?”
“Briar” she provided absently. “I suppose so. We should give you a name until we figure out who you are. How about Cederic?
He thought about it “Sounds too warlike. I'm not sure I like war.”
“Doesn’t sound right” He shook his head.
Angel thought for a moment. She casually reached over and picked an unusually bright purple flower and held it up next to the boys face. “It matches your eyes.”
“My eyes are that color?” Cool. “What is it called?” He asked curiously.
Angel thought for a moment “Velvet Joesy I think.” Her eyes brightened “We’ll call you Joesy!”
Joesy. Hm… he liked the sound of that name. “Joesy it is then.”
After thinking to themselves for a while Joesy asked. “Why are we waiting for Thorn?”
“It’s Briar.” She corrected. “He is good with locks and opening things that don’t want to be opened. I guess Daja might be able to help too. Her magic has to do with metal and smithing. She at least would be able to tell what it was made of.”
“What do the others do?” Joesy wondered.
“Briars power is plants. Sandry’s magic is with sowing and weaving. They may not sound like much, but don’t underestimate them.” She said with a grin on her face. “Maybe we should wait for them at the usual place.” Tris grabbed the briefcase and Joesy and they materialized in a small cozy cottage. “Welcome to Discipline.” She said. There were three people, two girls and a guy, sitting around a table in front of us. A quaint blond in gold leaped up with a sparkle in her eye.
“Who is this and how did you get him here?” She exclaimed brightly.
The other girl, with dark skin and hair, and the olive skinned boy stood up to get a look at him.
“Yes, how did you get him here?” they asked.
“His name, at least for now, is Joesy. Joesy this is Sandry.” The blond girl curtsied. “That’s Daja” Angel pointed at the dark skinned girl. Gesturing at the boy she said. “and Briar.”
“What do you mean by at least for now?” Briar asked suspiciously. Joesy noticed that he had a few knives concealed on his person and smiled at the irony.
They all sat down as Angel explained what had happened.
Joesy found himself looking around the cottage. There were a few doorways to his left and some stairs to his right. The door behind him led outside, and they were all gathered in the kitchen. He absently wondered why he was mapping out the place. “Just instinct I guess.” Joesy told himself.
They passed the metal case around. Daja commented that it wasn’t any metal she knew. Sandry was delighted to find that whatever it was made of, was weaved in a microscopic pattern she had never seen before and went to try it out with some yarn. Prodding it, turning it and occasionally muttering something at it, Briar examined it the longest. Other than finding a blue rose painted on the underside of the handle he didn’t find anything of interest. “I can’t even figure out where it opens.” Eventually they all gave up on opening it, at least for the time being. They all wondered why they couldn’t open it in this dream world of theirs.
Briar took a little while to warm up to Joesy. It was Joesy asking him why he was carrying knives in a dream that finally won him over. After a little bit he felt just like part of the group.
Joesy liked Angel’s family.