Welcome to Valerian Night, where the story comes to you in snippets and snatches, snapshots and slivers of 300 words every week. Your input is valued and needed, for what you say may drive the story into a totally different direction. Follow the meandering coils of story that take Alyxa Fairchild onto a direct collision course with Nightmares, Dreams, Old Deities and New Heroes as her world collides with that of Réveille, the land of Waking Dreams and Dead Gods. Trail after Morpheus as he discovers the foibles and confusions of the human world and finds himself strangely enamoured thereof all the while trying to keep his Dreamer safe and ensure the continued peace of the Real World. Let the young Jazzy open your eyes and show you that the world you see is not necessarily the world you know...

Friday, March 5, 2010

VI: Undercurrent

A little girl peered at him curiously as Morpheus stepped into a place lit up by brilliant blue and green lights. There were clothes hanging from the walls and from strange frames set up for presumably this purpose.

“Do I knows you, mister?” the child asked him, coming up to him and tugging his finger.

In return, Morpheus studied the little girl. She appeared to be of the princess variety, dressed in what passed for fairy pink in this realm.

“We may have met before, little one,” Morpheus said, “but not here.”

“No. I’ve never been here before,” she informed him.

“Nor have I.”

“My name is Amy,” she said after a brief pause, “I’m seven.”

“I’m Morpheus,” he replied, “I was here before the world.”

Amy nodded as though this was the most normal thing for him to say. When she moved her head the strange lights caught in her sunset hair. She was quite…pretty. The word seemed to fit.

“Can you save me, mister?”

“Amy? Amy!”

The girl cringed away from the sound of the voice. The woman was tall. Sophisticated. The word materialized behind his eyes as he saw her rush towards them. The woman scowled fiercely.

“Amy! How many times have I told you not to wander off? I’m sorry if she bothered you.”

The sentence came out in a breathless rush, and Morpheus was momentarily mesmerized by the flow of it.

“I wasn’t botherin’ him. We were talking!” Amy insisted fearfully.

“So sorry,” the woman said again, and began tugging Amy along with her towards the door before Morpheus could make a reply. Amy shrieked.

“You know better!” the woman hissed at her, and the undertone of threat was clearly audible, “when we get home you’re in deep shit, brat.”

Morpheus watched, considering his options.

No comments:

Post a Comment