Dream On.. Till Your Dreams Come True

Remember that dream you had? The one that was so totally real that it couldn’t have been real. It was unrealistically real. Yeah.. Thats what it was. Where you could see it all, hear everything that was said, feel every emotion - in limbo- as a third person would, overly clear; sense things that couldn’t be sensed otherwise. And then you cried because you couldn’t handle the extent of the emotions passing through you.

It happened to me too..

It is past the mid of night. There is nobody around. Only darkness. There is a slight breeze, doing nothing to help the heat. Intense heat. Dry heat. There is too much of it, it is stifling. I can feel it gnawing at my flesh, trying to make me succumb. Yet I do not feel hot. I do not sweat. It is under control. Just a matter of concentration, thats all. It is as I was taught - using the flame and the void. The picture of the flame in my mind’s eye, unwavering. To that I feed all emotion - pain, anger, discomfort, happiness, everything. A calm takes over, and I become distant from all that is around, yet at the same time I am more acutely aware of it all than before. Except myself. I can’t remember who I am.

There is a house in front of me. It is important in some way. Something that I must do inside it. I need to look for someone. I don’t remember who. I walk towards the house, moving effortlessly, gliding more than walking. I see someone in the garden and move towards him. He is the one I have come for. I enter the garden. I can feel something amiss. I know that all is not as it should be. The breeze is there no longer. There is complete silence even though he is talking. All I can see are his lips moving. I cannot understand it.

My clothes are black. Pitch black. Black breeches, black boots which come up to my knees, and a long, black, woolen coat on top. It is buttoned right to my neck. My hair is long, and black; it falls to my shoulders. My face is fair, my eyes - black stone. A light beard covers a face that looks like it has been carved from rock. I smile, but it does not reach the eyes. There is pain there. Too much of it.On the left breast of my coat there is a symbol, carved out of precious metal. It is a terrible creature, real as life. Four short legs with razor sharp claws; a long, lizard-like body, a majestic head with its jaws open in a roar, showing dangerous teeth sharper than knives. It is as golden as the rays of the Sun.

It is my Standard.

It is the Dragon.

It all comes back to me. I remember who I am. A sudden memory of the Power shoots through me. I know now why I’m here, and what I need to do.

I hear a sound. I realize it must be coming from quite a distance; my hearing is amplified. I can hear the animals. I know the sound. Darkhounds. A whole pack of them. Pitch black in color, each the size of a calf. Saliva dripping from their jowls. The creatures of the Forsaken after they escaped from Shayol Ghul. They are in a frenzy, and will attack anything in sight. Each drop of saliva is acid - eats through skin. I do not understand why I know this.

They are slowly but surely moving toward their target. It cannot be another.

For some reason, I do not run. I know I will not. I feel no fear. I don’t feel anything. I feel that I should. Logic does not work. There is only one way out. My best friend. My worst enemy. I close my eyes and reach out to the True Source. I can feel it coming to me. The Flame and the Void. There is nothing else. I open myself to the One Power. It hits me like water from a tidal wave. I can feel it ravage me like a storm. It is familiar, yet like a stranger; one I know really well. No amount of preparation makes me ready for the rush. It fills me, completely. I’m no longer my self - I’m bigger, inside. My veins throb with anticipation. The streams of pure energy traveling through my body. I’m more than Alive; I am hypersensitive to everything around me, I am calm. I control it all.

I smile. Saidin and I are One.

I know it is not possible, I know it has not been done. Ever. But I know I can do it. I know that I Will do it. I know that The Dragon was Reborn to bring about Change, even to bend Reality, as it exists. I control Saidin - the male half of the Power: my greatest foe, and my best friend, without which I cannot live. I use it to weave flows of Air and Spirit. The weaves are complicated, and take a lot of energy. I feel the familiar taste of sickness that is so characteristic of Saidin. I feel like retching, but I know that I cannot stop now, or I will not survive. My head cannot take the power of the True Source. The taint on Saidin is stronger each time I open myself to it. The weaves are ready. I concentrate. I can see Reality fighting the weaves, a stubborn wall which refuses to go down.

The wall goes down. I can feel the change already. The Dragon has returned. I begin to rise from the ground. The weaves are causing changes in everything around me. Lightning flashes all around me, as Reality puts up a final resistance to Saidin.

Everything slows down. The Darkhounds enter the garden and charge at me. I rise just above their heads. The effort is too great. Beads of sweat start to form on my face. The flame in my mind flickers. I know that I have just done the impossible, using Saidin. I know that I should have been burnt by it, and my body turned to ash. Yet I am still here. And I need to fight.

I am bigger than Saidin, I am who I was meant to be, I am The Dragon Reborn. Slowly but steadily turning mad.

I know I cannot hold myself in the air much longer. I’m using too much of the One Power and I cannot draw more to fight the Darkhounds. I start descending. Instantly, they charge towards me. I hold on to the Source, and think back into the depths of Time, willing myself to come up with an answer. I feel my mind stretching, I feel my body pushing itself to its limit. I cannot do this much longer.

I know.

I remember.

Lews Therin tells me. I unleash Saidin with a fury such as I never have. I feel the Old Power at work. A beam of white light leaves my hand and shoots towards them. They do not stand a chance. The light is alive. It is pure energy.It is Living Death. It penetrates everything in its way, reducing it to less than ash, wiping it out from existence altogether. It is a weapon of the First Age. Balefire. Something no Aes Sedai has used in over two thousand years. It lasts less than a second. There is nothing left. There are no Darkhounds. There is no garden. There is no house. There is nothing.

All is Black. Only I remain.

It is over.

Why is it that Dreams are not ‘Real’? What is Real? It is said that a dream is ’in your mind’ and therefore cannot be true. I ask you this, is the dream not frightfully real, when you’re in it? It is not impossible to snap out of it? Do you not feel extreme emotions while dreaming? Do you not laugh and cry while sleeping (ONCE in a while)? And if you DO wake up thinking, ‘Oh my god, that was so real!!’ then what is to stop it from being real? Who says that it did not happen? I know I weilded Saidin. I felt it filling me, and rushing through my veins. I felt the One Power, and used it as a weapon. I unleashed Balefire on those Darkhounds, and I felt drained and nauseus when I let go of Saidin. I know that with it, I could’ve done things I can’t even imagine, and some I can. I could have brought her back from the other side. The Dragon could. And I was The Dragon Reborn. Yet I didn’t. Because that was the way it was Meant to end.

What we easily dismiss as dreams are as real, if not more than what happens around us in the waking world. I refuse to believe that it did not happen. I have died, and I have felt what its like to die. I have felt what its like to be shot through the stomach, to be gutted with a knife, to be slapped in the face by my love, to be able to bring a person back to life.

And it is Real.

And it is Over.