SWNOVELS Chapter So, it's not real.
Her life was in shambles. There was chaos at home because she could only do the bare minimum to get by. Everyone was sick with worry, but Lennart had retreated into his shell, and she didn’t know how to reach or console him. To top it off, she and her husband were apart most of the time while they took turns at Rafael’s bedside, and she felt lonely.
She started each morning with the firm belief that her baby would find his way home that day. But as time passed, it was becoming difficult to sustain hope.
Coma. Four letters of doom. Her little boy was lying like a fallen angel, ethereal and fragile, his mind somewhere beyond her reach. She needed to be close to him, to hold his hand, to tell him stories. Otherwise, how would he find his way back to her?
If he woke up – not if, she corrected herself, but when he woke up – and opened his beautiful eyes, the first thing he would see was her shining love for him. To think anything else was the path to insanity.
She hastened to the checkout lane, eager to join her husband at the hospital.
Who would have known that hope was the most agonizing hell?
“You botched it.”
Isobel gulped. Though the face in the mirror was blurry, she could hear the horrible voice clear enough. They found her whenever it pleased them, and they materialized without warning in any available reflective surface. She suspected they stalked her but tried not to think about it.
“I did everything you asked of me. How could I guess the dumb kids would push it this far?”
From her point of view, the assignment was over. The police had failed to glean anything useful from Leon, Momo, and their dense mothers, and now the kid would come through or die. Whatever. At any rate, she had pulverized his potential – whatever they meant by that.
“He isn’t my problem anymore,” she said, holding back a smirk.
“You nitwit! You let him go to the one place he should never be!”
“Which place? The hospital?” she taunted, confident about her success and thinking herself safe.
The ensuing silence sent a cold shiver up her spine.
“Is it your wish to revoke our... collaboration, Zaza?”
It was surreal to hear the term of endearment only a few knew in such a malicious way.
Recognizing the veiled threat, she bowed her head. “Fine. What do you want from me?”
“Good evening, Ms. Pepper!”
Madlen answered the friendly greeting in kind, feeling blessed to work in such a beautiful place, surrounded by exceptional people.
Centisom was a magical place powered by an unseen entity of the same name. At least as big as the City of London, it featured an immense mansion surrounded by an emerald green forest amid multiple outdoor amenities designed for the pleasure and the training of its citizens.
Led by a contingent of highly trained teachers, the facility fulfilled its purpose as a magnificent training academy for each new generation of Guardians – although no one knew for certain if that was its sole purpose. Secure outside the boundaries of standard time and space, its true nature was beyond full comprehension, the story of its genesis lost in time.
With Rafael’s arrival, the latest class of Guardian trainees was on the premises. At the precise moment they had emerged from the Incoming Room, Centisom had shifted out of time and entered a secure pocket dimension. The training could now begin.
Satisfaction welled inside Madlen, as she glanced back to make sure Rafael, her skittish charge, was still following. She shortened her steps to accommodate his pace, amused by his wide-eyed scrutiny of everything they passed.
The only thing she had gleaned before the wonders of Centisom took hold of his attention was that he adored soccer. His aura of innocence worried her. Centisom’s decision to enroll such a young recruit was unusual. But then, times were changing.
She led him through spacious corridors adorned with ornate archways. Lamps and flambeaus added a golden glow to the dim light that passed through skylights in the arched ceilings. Works of art offered brilliant splashes of color against the marbled sand floors and white-washed walls. She loved the building’s eclectic interior, its intricate layout, and its graceful, timeless aura.
“Is this Cintamon?” Rafael asked, looking up at the arched ceilings.
“Centisom. Yes, for some it is home, for others, it is a training facility.”
“Training? For what? Soccer?”
The hopeful note in his voice broke her heart a little. She raised her hand toward his shoulder, but he dodged her attempt to comfort him.
“Rafael, please believe me when I tell you that you are not here against your will,” she reiterated with a reassuring smile. “Can we talk more in-depth about this after you eat? By the growls coming from your stomach, I can hear you’re hungry.”
He flushed and gave her a timid nod, putting his hands into his pockets.
A few hurried minutes later, they reached the kitchen at the center of the mansion – and she suspected, Centisom’s heart as well. It was a circular room, and every section of the mansion branched out from it. Despite its vast size, it was still inviting thanks to its wood-structured interior and gleaming copper appointments. Numerous hearths fitted with working benches were placed between the entrances. Comfy seating arrangements occupied the center space. But most of all, it was the volume of nooks, crannies, hanging utensils and herbs that made it such a homey place.
“The kitchen is always open,” Ms. Pepper said, amused by his spellbound expression. “There are two ways to get food. You can use the kitchen to cook something for yourself, or you can just order from one of the nooks and let Centisom deliver a meal.”
Like Rafael, most young people in Centisom were shocked at the idea of cooking for themselves. Since it took some training to order food properly, she led him to a nearby nook and asked him his preference.
“May I have anything I want?”
“Of course. As long as it’s not only sweets...”
She placed her palm on a brass control panel next to the nook and ordered his requested meal. A few seconds later, a food plate loaded with steaming hot chicken nuggets and fries materialized in the alcove.
His eyes widened in disbelief. “Holy snabarca! How did you do that? Can I do it, too?”
A wave of relief went through her when she heard his excitement. Excellent, he will adapt just fine.
“Of course, you can,” she replied while retrieving the tray. “Put your hand on the control panel and think about what you’d like.”
She was amused when he closed his eyes tight and held his hand in front of the panel. But her amusement turned to surprise when an enormous bowl of chocolate ice cream appeared, and then to dread when he nodded to himself and finally put his hand on the plate, causing all the other nooks in the vicinity to produce bowls of chocolate ice cream too.
“Awesome!” he said when he opened his eyes and saw the huge dessert in front of him, unaware that he had just communicated with Centisom without any physical contact.
Her eyes darted around the room at the trainees lounging on sofas and chairs under the central glass dome overhead. It was fortunate that, due to the late hour, attendance was scarce.
She stepped in front of Rafael. “Ice cream on the house today! Help yourself!” she called out with deliberate cheerfulness.
As she expected, the sweet-hungry teenagers rushed to grab the unexpected treats. Centisom usually refused to deliver great quantities of refined sugar since young people weren’t good at self-restraint.
She led her protégé to a small table at the edge of the central seating area.
His shoulders slumped. “What went wrong? Did I break the kitchen?”
“Don’t worry about it, that was unusual, but in a rather positive way.” She forced out a chuckle. “You just gave your fellows ice cream, that’s all. If nothing else, they’ll love you for it.”
He looked over at the other trainees with a doubtful expression. “I suppose.”
She placed the tray in front of him. “Dig in before your meal gets cold. I’ll fetch myself a tea.”
Deciding she needed a little time to think, she opted to make her own tea rather than order the instant kind from a nook. On her way to the stove, she caught the eyes of Niklas Dowotski. After a beat of hesitation, he crossed the space to meet her, progressing with that smooth and decisive gait that made her heart skip a beat.
Keeping a watchful eye on Rafael as he ate, his head turning this way and that way in apparent anxiety, she told Niklas about Centisom’s unusual reaction to Rafael.
“He tuned in right away,” she said. “Should we be worried?”
He shook his head. “Not at all. This hints at a huge amount of raw power. Of course, we’ll assess and train him accordingly. Other than that, I don’t foresee any problems.”
“He’s a nice boy. I’d hate to let him down,” she said, checking the steeping tea leaves. “His transition was hard enough.”
“What happened?”
She looked up at him when she heard the concern in his voice. “We don’t know. Something tried to hold him back.”
“That’s alarming. What’s your take?”
She stirred the teapot and sighed. “Too early to tell. You remember the last trainee who failed to adjust...”
“I do,” he said, taking over the pot and pouring. “Let’s pray such a tragedy doesn’t repeat itself.”
She was reaching for the cup when a commotion grabbed their attention.
Rafael had been eating as fast as he could.
That the food was delicious was irrelevant. His parents’ advice to stay strong and healthy in the face of danger motivated him to keep eating, even though he was feeling queasy. Weakness could cause him to miss an opportunity to escape. Therefore, he ate. And he observed.
This facility – Centisom, he corrected himself – was a strange place. It sure didn’t look like a prison, and the other, older kids seemed relaxed. Was it a boarding school, then?
Ms. Pepper was a nice enough lady, but then, they all were until they stabbed you in the back.
A big part of him still thought he was in a weird – albeit realistic – dream. On the other hand, the food tasted real, and boy, his taste buds were dancing in delight. He hoped somebody would explain it all to him soon because the dragon in his guts was beginning to trash in panic.
He was stirring his ice cream to a mush when a voice startled him. Sloppy, he scolded himself, to let his guards down even for a moment.
“And who is the little greenhorn? Did you forget your pacifier?”
Rafael held back a sigh. He knew that tone and took a few seconds to study the next bully – another disturbed person unable to find a single productive way to exercise his self-importance. Then again, if wannabe tyrants were productive, they wouldn’t need to harass others to feel important. Although this guy was taller than Leon, the sneer was all the same.
Why he attracted this kind like a magnet was a mystery to him.
Without comment, he went back to his dessert... until a hand swept it onto the floor.
“I asked you a question, moron.” The sneer was in full force.
Rafael’s cheeks heated up, and he started to stand, but the guy pushed the table against his stomach, boxing him in. He took a shallow breath and forced himself to lift his gaze until he met the offender’s eyes.
“Did you know you’ll get ugly lines on your face if you frown too much?”
That quip earned him another shove of the table. By now, a few kids had made their way over and stood in awkward silence, observing the scene. Sheep.
His belly ached, and the queasiness intensified. He raised his thumb to the bully. “Well, I guess you just proved you could move tables. Kudos.”
A short girl pushed her way to the front of the small crowd. With a deft move, she side-stepped the guy while elbowing him.
“Please excuse this ox,” she said to Rafael, “Bobby forgot his manners.” She righted the table. “I’m Poppina, by the way. We’re all from the last batch of arrivals.”
She looked at him expectantly… and he lost it.
Madlen stared at the odd-looking thing on the floor. Was it an old fashioned deep-diving suit? The chairs were in disarray, the table upended, and a couple of kids were groaning as they rose to their feet.
“What happened?” Niklas asked.
Madlen’s gaze swept over the small crowd, but Rafael was nowhere in sight. Was he inside that diving suit?
“Bobby was really mean to the new trainee. I guess he had enough,” a slim girl reported.
“All right, Poppina,” Niklas said, “we’ll deal with it.”
Madlen appreciated Niklas’ reassuring calmness and made a mental note to check on the pale, freckled girl later.
Niklas knelt and peered through the helmet visor. “Well done, young friend,” he said with a wink. Next, he strode to Bobby, who was sitting on the floor with a dumbfounded expression and told him he’d have to explain his behavior.
As Niklas dispersed the nosy crowd, Madlen crouched down next to Rafael. She met his panicked eyes through the visor and consoled him, mindful of maintaining a soothing speech cadence.
“They’re gone, Rafael. I’m sorry about that. We will deal with Bobby; his behavior was unacceptable. I’m going to open the visor now to give you some fresh air.” She fumbled with the latch until it sprang open.
Her heart hurt when Rafael twisted away from her, the cumbersome equipment making his movements clumsy. His quiet hiccups echoed in the vast room, then grew weaker, until the suit vanished. She stroked his damp hair with feather-like fingertips, listening to his respiration until he fell into a deep sleep.
“This could have gone better,” Niklas said with a gloomy sigh.
Rafael woke up with a start.
His favorite plush dog with the red coat was sitting in front of his nose. Reaching over, he nudged Marshall’s soft ear, settled on his back and inspected his bedroom. His. Everything was there: the Pokémon cards collection, Toothless (his toy dragon), the blue carpet, and the white bookshelves.
It had been a dream, after all. He was home!
Euphoria propelled him to his feet, and he shook his butt in a happy rhythm. He jumped into his favorite soccer attire and waltzed to the door. He couldn’t wait to tell Mum, Dad, and Lennart about his crazy night over breakfast.
He wrenched the door open – but stopped cold when he found himself face to face with Ms. Pepper. She lowered her fist and greeted him with a smile.
“Good morning, Rafael. I was just about to knock. Did you sleep well?”
“What are you doing here? Why are you in my home? Where is my family?” His whole body grew heavier with each sentence.
She peeked over his head.
“Oh, I see. Centisom has already remodeled your room. That was fast. It must like you.”
She lifted a hand, but he dodged her and slammed the door shut.
His heart burst. It couldn’t be true!
His plush toys flew. His beloved cards sailed. Toothless smashed into the wall. When his rage died, he collapsed with Marshall pressed against his heavy heart.
Niklas knocked on the door.
A sullen “Leave me alone” was his reward.
“Rafael, I’m here to answer your questions. Please let me in.”
Silence.
Deciding silence was consent, he stepped in, made his way through the devastated room, and sat down on the floor beside Rafael, the quiet ball of misery. After a period of awkward silence, he scratched his chin, stirring the muffled stillness.
“Do you remember how you came here, Rafael?” he asked in a low, soothing voice.
“No.” A harsh sigh. “And I don’t care. I just want to go home.”
“What’s the last thing you can remember?”
“...soccer game, maybe? Then I woke up here.” He spat the “here” in accusation.
Since he didn’t want to risk the boy withdrawing any further, Niklas opted to offer some quick truths. The rest could wait.
“Here is not what you think. You are in Centisom, yet you are home at the same time.”
The boy lifted his head from his pulled-up knees a fraction.
Glad that he had his attention, Niklas elaborated. “Kids come to Centisom when they get injured and need more time to recover. While their physical body heals on Earth – we call it Reality, but most just say Earth – their mind wakes up here in Centisom.”
One leery eye peered out from the side. “Meaning, this is only a weird dream?”
He flashed a quick, rueful smile. “Not quite a dream, I’m afraid. Centisom exists. It’s a special facility located in the dream plane.”
“Dream plane? So, it’s not real.”
Niklas chuckled. “Of course, it’s real. We’re speaking to each other at this moment, right?”
He paused to let Rafael mull it over.
“Let me fill you in. During normal sleep, your body is home, tucked into bed. But a part of you, the astral body, travels to the dream plane – we call it Dreamland. How else would you dream?”
“Ah.” The boy lifted his head and snorted in triumph. “So, it’s just my brain making up stuff.”
“Well, not exactly. How would you explain that you dream of stuff you didn’t know existed before you went to sleep?”
Rafael’s mouth opened. He frowned and snapped it shut.
“Exactly, Rafael. Like everyone on Earth, you’ve been a regular visitor to Dreamland since you were born, even if you never noticed it. The real question is, why did your astral body wake up?”
Niklas chose to interpret the boy’s baffled shrug as progress. He regretted allowing Madlen to persuade him to have this conversation with Rafael. It was her field of expertise, but after seeing Rafael’s appalled reaction to her visit, she thought maybe Niklas could help. Feeling out of his comfort zone, he braced for the tricky part.
“When a young person is injured to the point of unconsciousness, Centisom can pull him or her into the dream plane, if that person is gifted with special powers. That’s why you woke up here.”
Questions erupted from Rafael’s mouth. “Unconscious? Wait, what do you mean by gifted? How–”
“Your physical body is on the mend,” Niklas cut off the panicked torrent of questions, cursing his clumsiness. “There is no need to worry,” he added in a more moderate tone. “In your case, I suppose your injury is related to the soccer game you mentioned.”
Rafael crossed his arms over his head in a protective motion. “I can’t remember.”
Niklas sighed. He was doing a sub-par job at reassuring the newcomer. “I know everything must feel overwhelming right now. I regret your arrival wasn’t as smooth as it should have been. But you need to understand that Centisom chose you to become a Guardian due to your unique gifts. It’s a great honor to become a Guardian Of Dreamland.”
“You must be kidding. I don’t want to guard anything. Your Centisom is wrong.”
Niklas was blundering and wondered how Madlen managed to educate the protégés without alienating them. His respect for the cheerful woman rose a notch.
“Rafael, believe me, Centisom never makes an error. You showed a huge amount of power yesterday.” He waited for a beat so it could sink in. “Tell me, how do you get along with other kids your age?”
Stony silence.
“I bet it isn’t easy, right? You’re probably not quite fitting in with your age group. In all likelihood, you’ll feel better among similarly-gifted peers.”
“As if!” Rafael shot back, managing to sniff and glower at the same time.
“Think of it like this: You’ve got nothing to lose. Why not try out the training? If nothing else, it’ll keep you busy until it’s time to go back.”
The boy straightened his back, crossed his arms, and looked at Niklas with a hard glare. “Why. Me.”
He shrugged, suppressing a twinge of remorse. “It’s Centisom’s decision. At any rate, we need to identify in which categories your gifts fit. Who knows, perhaps you’ll even like your magic.” Niklas tried for a playful wink.
“I don’t get it,” Rafael said, unmoved by his speech. “If I woke up here, then what happens to my real body?”
“During your stay in Centisom, your body remains in stasis. For all intent and purposes, it looks like it’s comatose.” Seeing Rafael’s shocked expression, he hurried to finish: “It’s the reason why Centisom exists outside of Earth time. Your body does not suffer because it’s frozen in time right now.”
“That’s plain crazy. You expect me to believe you just like that? Prove it.”
Niklas raised an eyebrow. “I’m quite sure you never had a kitchen magically produce your favorite meal under one second, young man – or a diver suit wrap itself around you out of thin air.”
He lifted a finger to curb the next objection. “It was all you. Let’s test your talents. That ought to convince you.”
The boy paused for a tense second and gave a decisive nod. He pushed to his feet with youthful agility and went to the door. Stopping there, he put his hands in his pockets and aimed a devious smile at Niklas. “You’re an adult. What are you doing here?” He tapped his foot. “Were you punished?”
Niklas laughed. “Well, yes, and no. Some of us are here to look after the young people. I started as a teen, just like you. I just happened to stay.”
“You stay here like, all the time?”
Niklas shook his head. “No, Guardians are regular people. We live a normal life on Earth. I didn’t lie when I told you that you’ll go back to your family. When you’re a Guardian, you only visit the Dreamland during your natural sleep time.”
He rose to his feet and approached Rafael, extending his hand in a peace offering. “Let’s go see Medeor Demetriu, our Headmaster; he will validate your gifts.”
The boy gave him a tentative, wary shake. It would suffice for today. There would be plenty of time to win Rafael’s trust later.