Rafael & the magic DarKNight

Now that Rafael was standing on its soil, it looked more like a fairy tale version of Earth. And he hated every bit of it. Oh, yes, it was beautiful. Same vegetation as on Earth, but a bit more vibrant. The same flying, crawling, and creeping creatures, but more exotic. Bigger, cleaner. The air was sweeter, the sky bluer, and the sounds more melodious. It was perfect.

Too perfect. He shuddered. It had to be a nightmare in disguise.

“Hurry up, Rafael.”

With his hands fisted around his backpack’s straps, he walked in an uneasy, crabby gait, careful to avoid brushing against the foliage. His eyes darted around, examining each shadowy patch.

Poppina, on the other hand, was flirting with nature, marveling at anything and everything. Mr. Santiago, who was protecting the stragglers, was as watchful as Rafael, his eyes roaming the underbrush, even though he was smiling at Poppina’s whimsical antics.

Rafael and the other trainees were in Dreamland participating in a combined lesson in Nurture, Maintain, and Knowledge.

Earlier that morning, the three teachers had summoned them to Gateway Hall and nearly put them back to sleep with a detailed list of rules to follow. Rafael’s mind had wandered off during the boring lecture and produced all sorts of vexing questions. Did he dream while he was in Centisom? He didn’t know because he couldn’t remember his nights. Maybe he was the protagonist in his dream? Awake and asleep at the same time. Or he was dreaming that he was sleeping? Was that even possible?

When Mr. Demetriu had opened one of the doors to Dreamland, Rafael felt a chill run down his spine. Not because of the eerie mist that wafted in, but because the Horolock – that was the name of the strange clock he had puzzled over during his first visit in Gateway Hall – began ticking, which meant time had started again. As the trainees filed out the door, he had clutched his coin and the stolen Transcry in his pocket because he knew it might be his very last chance to get back home.

A leaf caressed his cheek, jolting him back to immediate concerns. Fed up with sidestepping the unruly vegetation, he manifested an air shield in front of him. The branches flexed as he passed, and Mr. Santiago caught up with him to avoid the backlash.

That’s when a whizzing firefly overtook him, bounced back against the invisible barrier, then right into his face.

“Why can’t Dreamland be a nice, big soccer field?” he shouted, wiping his face in disgust.

The Guardian’s laugh boomed underneath the high canopy, startling the wildlife into silence. “A soccer field?”

“Yes,” Rafael said, “Nice. Short. Green. Grass. Minimal wildlife. Maximum overview. And a ball, of course.”

“Of course,” Mr. Santiago agreed, giving him a friendly nudge. “We’re almost there, Rafael. But I didn’t peg you for a nature hater.”

“I’m not a nature hater!” he said, vexed at the moniker. “Grass is nature, isn’t it? Besides, it’s not my fault that I’m forced to spend most of my time at school doing stupid, boring assignments. And it isn’t on me that nature spawned so many annoying creatures!”

A soft chime announced an incoming email. When he glanced at the monitor, his fingers froze midway above the keyboard. More out of habit than purpose, he saved his coding work and angled his chair for a better view.

# I’m YOU. Henry, you’d better read this!

What the…?

The sender’s identification was a jumble of unintelligible characters. He would usually delete such a message without reading it because, well, malware and so on. But something pulled him in.

Against all reason, he opened the message. An extensive block of text unfolded, along with a few attachments – program files, by the look of it.

“Dear me, if you read this, then revenge is at your fingertips. Let me refresh your – or should I say OUR – memory. We were once the Chosen One – until they decided to rob us of our potential, strip us of our memories and send us home...”

Henry devoured the rest of the text. It was a letter he had written to himself before they trashed him, and now everything made sense.

He finally understood why he felt like a dark void was swallowing him since he woke from his coma. They had wronged him on so many levels, maimed him, kicked him out like rubbish.

With rage boiling inside him like a fireball, he vowed to pay them back, big time. And thanks to his bright former self’s genius, he had the tools to do just that. He opened the encrypted program file attached to the email and laughed until his eyes watered.

In addition to taking back his rightful place, he would become rich.

His former self had signed the message T.P.O.D.

How fitting.

Rafael ducked beneath the overhanging limbs of a huge tree and was glad to emerge into a large clearing. The late afternoon light accented the tips of grass blades, and they sparkled in a blue-green hue. The grass went up to his knees but was soft and pliant to the touch. That made sense since their purpose was to cushion the globes that protected the astral bodies and served as an interface for the Dreamlings – the Glabs if he remembered well.

“All right, everybody, please come forth,” Ms. Renvoizé called, the sound of her voice muted by the green carpet under their feet. “Today, we will observe the Dreamlings in their natural habitat. Please refrain from petting them. The undomesticated don’t like it. Or you might feel the consequences. Of course, you may learn the smart or the hard way.”

Mr. Demetriu stepped forward. “Soon, a Glab will be in our midst. After it settled, your mission is to observe the symbioses between the ecosystem and the Dreamlings. You’ll pay attention to the Glab build-up and the Dreamlings’ interaction with it. Do not, under any circumstances, disturb the process.” He pointed to a cluster of trees. “Those are Glabia Trees. You may touch them to familiarize yourself with the texture.”

Mr. Zhou’s unpleasant voice cut in. He was standing next to an immense tree sporting a riot of multicolored leaves. “This is a mid-sized Drana Tree.”

Rafael was confused. Wait, if it was a Drana Tree, then... Oh, he had mistaken a multitude of Dreamlings for leaves. The furballs swayed gently despite the still air.

“You may observe Dreamlings transfer collected Knowledge back to Dreamland. Pay attention to their link to the Drana Tree. As my colleague already pointed out, eyes only.”

“I might add that nightfall isn’t far away,” the Headmaster said, lifting his gaze to the sky, whose blue was deepening. “The Glab will be here soon.”

Rafael wondered how the day had turned from dawn to dusk. Then again, anything was possible in Dreamland. Including nightmares.

Mr. Demetriu carried on with his directives. “Now, I want you to split into groups and rotate through the following stations: Drana Tree, Glabia Tree, and Glab. Take good notice, as you will be writing a report about your observations. We’ll head back to Centisom in two hours.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. Great. First, he had to fight through the jungle, next he would have to fight through an essay about the jungle.

Julia stroked Rafael’s hair. The featherlike, repetitive gesture allowed her a small measure of comfort. Maybe, she thought wistfully, he could even feel it.

Without her notice, dusk enveloped the two of them in a dark blanket. The light faded as the window mirrored the sorrowful image of the mother staring at her pale, comatose child. On the other side of the glass, the city exploded into its nightlife carousel. But this time, another set of eyes emerged in the polished surface.

“Julia.”

Startled, she looked around in confusion. Empty. They were alone in the room. Her eyes passed over the blurry reflection in the window, her brain dismissing the aberration in plain sight. Shrugging away the weirdness, she returned to the bed and trailed a fingertip from Rafael’s hairline to the tip of his nose. Reassured by his warmth, soft breathing, she grabbed her purse.

Time to get something to eat. Even if everything tasted like cardboard these days, she needed the energy to get through her nightly vigil. Sleep usually came in fits and starts. She woke multiple times with the sudden urge to check on him... then paced the room until dawn, listening to his breath, holding hope in her heart that he would stir, make a sound, or, at last, open his smart brown eyes.

As she was poised to step out, she glanced one last time to the bed and froze. Something had moved at the edge of her vision. After a beat, she scolded herself – it was probably a late bird flying by the window – and exited the room.

The wait was killing her. Her butt was smarting from the extended stay on the hard cafeteria chair. Her head was itchy from the ugly wool cap she was forced to wear. The air was stale, the atmosphere depressing. The coffee, thankfully, was tolerable.

She was one small step from regaining her freedom, she reminded herself. One more thing, they had assured her. The last one. A “little service,” they called it. Though she had first bristled at their demand, now she understood how it would serve as deliverance for the family. They clung to irrational hope anyway. She would liberate them and shake off her own shackles in one fell swoop.

Two years ago, there had been an accident. She hadn’t anticipated the potent flash of pleasure that came when she withdrew her hands from the life-saving routine. How dare they dangle that over her head? Closing her eyes, she let herself reminisce. But the memory had frayed. The echoes of pleasure had dulled and slipped from her grasp.

She felt a familiar wave of frustration ramping up. They had told her she failed to complete her task. It was not she, but the little smartmouth’s cursed mother who had made a mess of everything by probing, criticizing her attitude.

Her lips curled into a cruel smile. It was payback time.

She vowed to savor the moment he finally let go of his misery... and set her free.

As expected, their groups were carbon-copies of their soccer teams, except...

“Whassup?”

Rafael was surprised to find Devart, his smack-talking foe, at his elbow. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought you could use a replacement for your friend there,” the big guy said, pointing to Kiano – who was revolving around Bobby like a satellite.

“We don’t need a replacement.”

“True. What you need is to wipe the floor with Bobby’s sorry butt,” Devart stated, his eyes twinkling atop a crooked smile.

Maddox snorted.

Devart’s mien turned to disgust. “I don’t like how Bobby behaves. Most don’t. But they shake in their shoes like simpletons because they’re afraid he’ll turn his wrath on them. I don’t care. He doesn’t scare me.”

Rafael tried to swallow the soccer ball that had taken residence in his throat. After Kiano’s betrayal, Devart’s genuine sympathy was heartwarming.

To his relief, Poppina had overheard and didn’t hesitate to pounce on the big guy. “Welcome to the team. How good are you in offense?”

Rafael followed the ensuing exchange with half an ear, his eyes roaming over the clearing. The teachers had roped off an area where the Glab would form that night. It was an exciting prospect because, hey, who wasn’t curious about how dreams work? The ethereal demonstration would grab everybody’s attention, creating the perfect opportunity for him to slip away. It was his last chance to activate the Transcry.

His group trudged along toward the Drana Tree, Poppina leading, of course. She had a strong talent in Nurture and loved the cute beasts. As they approached the behemoth, Rafael marveled at the beauty of it. He couldn’t believe it was considered mid-size. The word “tree” was a misleading term as well. Beneath the smooth and nearly translucent bark, he could discern something akin to a system of veins that pulsed with light.

“That’s how Knowledge looks like?” someone asked in awe.

“No, it’s how information is collected,” Poppina corrected them, her hand hovering over the supple trunk. “It’s comparable to a raw data stream. All Drana Trees are connected. They network to transform the information into Knowledge, which is then fed to Infinite Library.”

Maddox peered closer, almost bumping his nose into the tree. “And how is the Knowledge fed back, then?”

“Same way, but in reverse, I guess. Notice the other conduits, the finer ones.”

Rafael cast a thoughtful look at Poppina. Somebody had been diligent in her learning. A dull pang of envy surprised him. Since he was planning to escape, he had refused to take more than a cursory glance at his lessons, considering the effort a waste of time. Nevertheless, being at a knowledge disadvantage made him uneasy.

Upon closer examination of the tree, he noticed the light veins were plugged directly into the Dreamlings. He was shifting closer when a sudden ripple went through them, and a commotion drew everyone’s attention back to the clearing.

Back near the clearing, his classmates stood petrified with their heads tilted back and a look of awe on their faces. Rafael and Maddox took a few steps to clear the tree’s overhang to see what was captivating everyone.

“It’s true, then,” Maddox whispered, as they looked skyward together.

“Exactly like in the simulation,” Rafael confirmed, his gaze following the brilliant star that was speeding toward them in a graceful arc.

“Wow look at that, an actual astral body,” Devart said in a casual voice. “I was starting to believe the whole thing was a hoax.”

Rafael glanced at him, askance. He hadn’t suspected the other trainees also had doubts.

Devart shrugged. “It’s high time, don’t you think, that we finally witness the whole thing in action?”

Nodding in acknowledgment, Rafael turned back to the celestial show and let the magic of the moment seep in.

Yeah, the game simulation had shown the process well enough, he thought as the swarm of Dreamlings hummed past him toward the clearing, but it had nothing on the real thing.

The Guardians had positioned themselves around the perimeter and were encircling the oblivious trainees. Their presence was a grim reminder that beauty and horror were two sides of the same coin in Dreamland.

Julia quickened her pace on the way to the cafeteria. Her fatigue and wandering imagination were getting the better of her. Out of habit, she scanned the open layout upon reaching the bottom of the stairs and pushed her dark mood down with her last step.

The children’s hospital fell short of the airy, modern ambiance it aimed for. Exquisite architecture couldn’t hide the weariness etched in its visitors’ faces. The people around her were also preparing for a long night beside a child who wouldn’t come home today, or ever, in some cases.

Sometimes a destitute person would occupy one of the tables in the back, soaking in some warmth before hospital personnel noticed and chased them out into the frigid night. Tonight was no exception. A woman with an ugly wool hat sat hunched over a table. She was lost in self-talk, if her erratic head movements were any indication.

Julia walked along the glass partitions of the closed-off kiosk toward the self-service area.

“Julia.”

Her steps faltered, but then she shook herself and walked with renewed determination. She wouldn’t lose precious time chasing phantom voices.

She was here. Right on time, like the voices in the mirror had predicted, the woman in the ugly wool hat thought. She got up, her legs stiff after sitting for a protracted stretch. With the woman’s back to her, she slid into the shadow until she reached the stairway.

She took one more look and saw the woman was hovering over the sparse buffet. She snorted. The poor woman would never see food with the same eyes again when she learned that her hesitation had cost her precious son’s life.

Vengeance was a cold, bitter dish.

A blue-black colored streak on the far side of the clearing caught Rafael’s attention. The angle was such that the Guardians, facing outward, would need to look sideways to see it. A closer look confirmed his suspicion. Intrigued, he grabbed Maddox’s arm and tugged him with him.

“What’s going on?” Maddox asked while they zigged and zagged around groups of gawking students to the opposite side of the clearing.

Rafael leaned in and whispered. “Jennifer is hiding in the underbrush behind Bobby’s group.”

“Our uptight, serious Jennifer?”

Rafael pointed at the vertical line of puzzlement between his friend’s eyebrows.

“That is how serious and proper you can look too when you worry.”

Maddox swept Rafael’s hand away and flashed a superior grin. “It’s how I look right before I outplay you, and you eat my dust, dude.”

Now they were near Bobby’s group. Pretending to admire a Glabia Tree, they looked in the direction Jennifer had disappeared.

Maddox plucked a drop of the gooey substance from a leaf. “This stuff is gross,” he huffed, trying to shake off it from his fingers. “It’s cool and warm at the same time.” After a few futile attempts, he wiped his hand on a tuft of grass.

Rafael grinned. “Sounds like the ideal padding for soccer shoes.”

As the night grew darker, the Dreamlings danced atop the Glab, creating rainbows of dazzling colors that illuminated the trainees’ awestruck faces. Even Bobby looked almost impressed.

Rafael scooped a handful of Glabia into a small container he manifested – for a little padding test. He was amazed by how responsive his gift was in Dreamland.

Returning his attention to Bobby’s group, Rafael frowned when he saw Kiano slowly backing toward the edge of the clearing with a hand behind his back. He was pretending to watch the Glab show, but his eyes were fixed on Bobby.

“Kiano’s up to something,” he whispered to Maddox. “Let’s take a closer look.”

They ambled in Kiano’s direction. With everyone’s attention on the spectacular scene in the clearing, no one noticed them. But Rafael’s focus was solely on Kiano. Deep down, he still couldn’t understand how their easy friendship had ended, and why Kiano would want to turn into a Bobby goon.

The underbrush at Kiano’s back rustled, and he paused. Rafael pulled Maddox to a stop. A slender arm shot from the bushes, plucked a thin, black square out of Kiano’s outstretched hand, and dove back into the thicket.

“Is that Jennifer?” Maddox whispered, “and a game tablet?” He squeezed Rafael’s arm. “Poppina will be delighted.”

“Wait,” Rafael said, but Maddox was already hurrying away.

As he watched Maddox disappear into the crowd, he tried and failed to fathom what was happening. Why would Kiano give the tablet to Jennifer? Was it even the cursed tablet the PIC Team was hunting for? And how did Bobby acquire it?

Maybe, though improbable, it was another game device altogether.

With the memory of the ambush still fresh on his mind, Rafael couldn’t convince himself to pass through Bobby’s crew to speak to Kiano. On the other hand, if he left, he feared he might miss something important. This was the PIC Team’s first lead on the whereabouts of the tablet. He decided to wait and watch.

After a few minutes, he grew nervous when he realized Maddox had been gone too long.

That’s, of course, when everything went awry.

She fumed in silence, careful to stay clear of the mirrors that hung above the porcelain washbasin. A harried nurse had thrown her a questioning look when she passed through the glass doors that separated the children’s unit from the maternity ward. She had smiled and ducked into the next bathroom.

She started a count to two hundred in her head. Too much time and her window of opportunity would be lost; not enough time and she might draw more attention to herself. With each number, her heart thumped faster and harder. Soon, her breath shortened, and she rode the waves of pleasure.

What an unexpected delight.

Bobby spotted Rafael and approached him with slow, menacing steps. On the other side of the clearing, Poppina was barreling through the crowd, Maddox and the rest of their group in tow. The mass movement alerted the teachers, who hurried toward the action.

Rafael stood at the meeting point of the oncoming mob.

For once, his brain didn’t stutter in panic. A little sidestep to dodge Poppina was enough to let her sail past him, right into Bobby’s path.

While an argument exploded between the two foes – there was a lot of pent-up aggression going on – he veered toward Kiano, Maddox hot on his heels. The time for subtlety was over, and he had to act before the adults messed everything up.

Kiano’s eyes grew wide, and he turned to speak urgently to the figure in the bushes. Yeah, whatever was going on, he was up to no good, Rafael thought with trepidation while he sped up to reach him.

A slender arm broke through the foliage, brandishing the tablet for Kiano to grab. He missed and swore as it dropped to the ground. His and Rafael’s hand seized the device at the same time, and suddenly they were engaged in a strange tug-of-war.

“Let go, you idiot! I need to put it back,” Kiano hissed.

Rafael let go of his grip on the tablet, and Kiano stumbled a step back in surprise. “You know we’ve been looking for it. You’ve lost your mind. That tablet is dangerous.”

“Put it back where?” Maddox asked, leaning in Kiano’s personal space.

Rafael admired his friend’s presence of mind to catch Kiano’s slip.

Instead of answering, Kiano paled and tossed the tablet above their heads. They whipped around to follow the item, then froze. Bobby had caught it, and thunder was on his face.

“They tried to steal it!” Kiano shouted.

A rustle betrayed Kiano’s flight through the underbrush, while Bobby took a menacing step toward Rafael.

“You’ll regret it, I’ll–” Bobby was interrupted by Poppina’s vigorous attempt to wrest the tablet away. They engaged in yet another tug-of-war, and soon, their respective crews were squaring off with each other.

“Stop! Desist from this brawl at once,” Mr. Zhou shouted, stepping into the fray.

Rafael caught Maddox’s eyes and nodded. Together, they plunged posthaste into the bushes, where Kiano had vanished. Their former friend had some serious explaining to do.

Rafael plowed through the shadows. Twigs snatched his clothes and scratched his bare arms like invisible claws. He breathed a sigh of relief when he cleared the underbrush. A panting Maddox crashed next to him a few seconds later.

“What now?” Rafael asked, pulling a leaf from the collar of his shirt.

Maddox pointed to the ground. “We follow Kiano. See the disturbed soil? That’s as good as an arrow. Come on.”

They started in a slow jog but increased to a sprint when a Guardian chased after them, shouting and ordering them to stop.

The blood pounded in Rafael’s ears, and it was a while before he noticed the Guardian’s footsteps had faded. He bent over and put his hands on his knees to catch his breath. “Now what?” he asked his sidekick again.

Unnerved by the ensuing silence, he straightened up and swiveled his head in search of Maddox. Browns and greens surrounded him in spades, but his friend was nowhere to be found.

His head spun, and he dropped hard on his bottom, clenching his teeth to hold back a whimper.

Holy snabarca. He had managed to get lost in Dreamland.

She approached with halting steps, her gaze steady on the forlorn form on the bed. For a fleeting moment, a pin of sorrow pricked her heart, opposing the promise of freedom.

Her hands shook as she donned surgical gloves. Excitement or regret?

She took a deep breath, extended her hands, and watched with fascination how they moved, as though on their own volition, toward the small nose, the pale mouth. The slow motion calmed her nerves, empowered her. She closed her eyes and let the eagerly anticipated thrill take control, her fingers hovering a few centimeters from murder.

Better.

I’m a survivor.

Rafael repeated the mantra in his head in an endless loop. The threatening panic subsided, his mind cleared. Better.

With a jolt, he realized he was... alone, in Dreamland, and his heart thudded in excitement. Finally, his chance had come. He reached into his pocket for the Transcry, but his hands closed on another familiar object instead. He pushed the coin aside and rummaged but his pocket was otherwise empty. His movements now frantic, he searched every pocket, patted his clothes and unpacked his backpack but found no trace of the bluish crystal. Then he remembered his dash through the thicket and his run through the wood. The Transcry could be anywhere.

He leaned his forehead on his knees and rocked back and forth, breathing hard and cursing his bad luck. The disappointment tore his heart apart, and he surrendered to sadness.

Poppina’s voice was an insistent buzz in his mind. You’re a survivor.

His mum’s voice, clear and strong, pierced through his sobs. You’re strong. Never give up.

The dragon inside trashed. Move.

Rafael heard them all and wondered what they would think about him if they saw him hunched on the ground, moping and whining. His spine straightened, he wiped his tears away and decided he wouldn’t give up. Ever.

Now calmer, he recalled his dad’s instructions, hearing his deep voice in his mind. If you ever get lost, stay in one spot and wait for us to find you.

That bit of parental advice might be useful in the real world, but here, he was on his own. Moreover, a stationary prey was an easy target for all kinds of hungry predators.

Make yourself visible.

He snorted. Same problem. If he manifested light, fire, or a whistle, it would be an invitation for every bad thing lurking in the shadows to join him.

A chill ran through him, and he launched to his feet.

Time to go.

He turned in a slow circle. He couldn’t remember where he entered the small clearing. Closing his eyes, he made another turn. There. His eyes popped open, and he walked with careful steps toward the noisiest area. Noise equaled life, whereas silence indicated danger.

He swatted the slim limb covered in tender green leaves aside and walked through the thicket, wishing more than ever for a soccer field instead of a jungle.

With a bit of luck, he would find his way back, or someone who knew the way. That’s what survivors did. They rescued themselves.

He nodded to himself. It could be worse.

“Julia!”

She jerked, the cup of pudding slipped from her fingers, and the sugary goo spilled all over the buffet counter.

A glance from left to right confirmed no one was nearby. Brows scrunched in worry, she grabbed a tissue and wiped off the mess from the stainless-steel surface.

Did she imagine the raspy, ghostly voice?

As she lifted the tissue, she squinted in shock when she saw a blurred, unfamiliar face looking back at her.

“Listen,” the ghost in the reflection shouted.

She managed a tiny nod. Was she losing her mind?

“He is in grave danger. Go.”

Her frazzled mind scrambled to process the words. “How? What?”

“Run! Rafael’s life depends on you.”

She cringed at the fierce tone, but it was enough to slap some reason back into her.

She ran.