Glass Houses, Stone Walls

“There weren’t always dragons in the Valley… The Valley. There’s water.”

– Breathe, what do you see? – Someone’s there. Who? I can’t see them. I’m holding my breath, I can’t breathe. The sky is red, bright red, “Everything is red. The birds. The birds are clawing out of the ocean. The Valley…” Someone is saying something next to me again, but where are they? I can’t see them.

– Boy, wake up. Focus your eyes. Look at me. – There is snapping at my head. My shoulders move, someone is shaking me. The red sky vanishes before me, and I blink furiously to try and see clearly once again. Everything is blurry.

“Maverick, look at me,” a man’s thick voice. He’s next to me. An object moves towards my eyes, a gentle touch forces my eyes shut before pulling them back open. It’s a hand, I can see the dark skin once more. The hand moves away from my face. I squint and glance around the room. There is no red sky. I am inside my home. I never left.

“There you are,” the Reverend is sitting on a stool, leaning over me. I’m lying down on a couch in my family’s multi-purpose room. I can see my ma and pa standing next to each other by my feet, they look down at me. I can see the fear in their eyes. I can’t tell if they are scared for me, or of me. Behind the Reverend, my two friends are standing by the fireplace. They came for support, but now I’m not sure if I want them there at all. I stare up at the ceiling, ignoring the sitting man.

“What just happened to him,” my ma sounds worried. The Reverend shifts on top of the stool, everyone is waiting for him to speak. I can feel his eyes on me once more, and his hand over my head.

“The hypnosis worked better than I thought it would, that’s what happened. Putting him under it really helped him see his dreams better,” he removes his hand from my head. “Come on Maverick, let’s sit up.” He places his hand on my shoulders and forces me upward. My feet are on the ground and my hands are in my lap.

The couch under me is a dark brown. The floor at my feet is, well, it’s brown. And every wall surrounding this room is for lack of another word… is light brown. Boring, mediocre, average. Very unlike the home I was born in. This was the first room of the home. The front door was right behind me to the left. This is where we hosted our few friends. There were two chairs and the couch I was currently sitting on. Directly behind my two friends was that tall fireplace that led up through the center of our home. Along the walls were several shelves covered in books. Some new, but many old. That’s what happens when your parents make a living studying the past and digging up bones.

I look up at the Reverend in front of me. He speaks, “Where did you go? Who did you see?”

“I- it’s never the same because he’s always moving,” I answer.

“Who is moving?” his voice is calm, I know he wants me to only pay attention to him, otherwise I would be met with the static of the room.

“It’s the man. I never see him. I can’t. I am him,” I don’t know what else to say. I glance back down at my lap, “None of you ever listen.”

“But, honey, you seeing these things? They keep you up at night, please just explain to us what you see. Dreams have always been repetitive, but none of us will be able to understand what patterns there are unless you really tell us.” There is a weight next to me on the couch. I turn to see the auburn curls of my mother. Her hair has always been too much for anyone to handle.

“Mav?” The voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it. I glance upward at Serik. He stands with Tai; his hands are clasped together in front of his chest. He is rubbing his thumb on the meat of his palm, a nervous habit. He had always been the most apprehensive out of the three of us. He was leaner than either of us but still shorter than me by more than a few inches. His skin was dark, and his hair was thick and black. It was tied back in two large plaits, but if one looked closer they would notice that those plaits were made of several small twists and braids. His eyes were gold, and then copper, and then gold again. They shifted more than I dreamed. “We just want to help you.” His nose twitched slightly.

All I could do was stare. I’ve been explaining my dreams since I was little, having them for longer. I was looking at the world from me, except it wasn’t my body. Everyone told me that it didn’t make sense when I explained it to them. They always asked how that was possible. I had seen myself in those dreams, those nightmares. The first time I had seen myself in my own reflection, I knew I wasn’t me.

I had been running, running for a while, and the body suddenly collapsed once it had found a small pond. The face in the water, the face I was met with, wasn’t my own. I was tan with dark brown hair that was only wavy, not curly like my own. That man that I always saw had pulled his hair into a ponytail. He had always been fighting something or been on the run. He was thick and strong. One day when I saw myself, I noticed that he had gained a scar on the left side of his top lip. He protected others from sky serpents and sea birds. Things I had only ever heard stories about.

Those nightmares hit me during the night, and recently they had started hitting me during the day too. Once they started, I couldn’t stop them. And to make matters worse, I still had no idea how to make them stop as a whole. I could recall instances where Taieem would shout for Serik. She would have to hold me up on her own until the other got to the two of us. They would stand by my side while I disassociated and fell into a world that wasn’t even in front of me. The longest day spell had been 10 minutes long.

The two of them had apparently talked to me through the whole thing, but I couldn’t hear them. I was far away. The place is real, I know it is. He’s real too, the man whose mind I invade. I just don’t know where he is. Or how to stop intruding on his life. A life that seems far more adventurous and chivalrous than my own.

Serik had told me that my visions scared him once. He had told me that when they were calm, I would lose all focus in my eyes and just stare, but if they weren’t, I would stare into the distance like some beast was actually in front of me. I’ve hyperventilated in public before and vomited after they had ended more than a few times too. I have almost passed out in several places where I would have been deemed a public nuisance. I just want them to stop, more than anything.

I know my ma wants that too. All of them do. But when I try to explain my visions as anything other than dreams, I get shut down. They never understand though Tai does make an effort. “I was that man,” I begin, “the same one I always am. I was staring at a shore, a lake? Something was in my hand. Birds with blades on their wings and some of the sharpest teeth I have ever seen were crawling out of it. I was there. Those birds are real.”

“Maverick,” the stern voice of my pa lifts over my own, “Reverend Kareem is simply trying to help you access what is in your mind, seabirds went extinct a long time ago. There isn’t any way you could actually be seeing a living one.” I glance up at my father, whom I am the spitting image of. Lighter skinned with eyes greener than the grassy hills north of our village. A broad pair of shoulders and a sharp jaw. He helps build furniture for extra money when my parents can’t get out for an exhibition. I help sometimes. The same calluses on my hands are on his own.

“But da, they look real,” I push, but I am met with the same gaze as always. Both my parents have spent their lives digging through the ground for bones of creatures that once lived. Seabirds, and brantas, and dragons. Creatures that haven’t been seen in a long time. They never believed that what I was seeing could be real-time. How could someone who has only lived 19 rotations even know what a branta really looked like?

“I think it’s time we consider that these aren’t just dreams, Mr. Stoke,” Reverend Kareem’s voice is a study in patience.

“Well, what else could they be?” My father’s words were harsh, “Visions? There is no way my son is seeing visions; the villagers already think his day spells are strange enough.”

“Yes, but I think it’s time we start believing that these things your son is seeing could actually be happening somewhere.” I feel as though I’ve been erased by the conversation, once again. I sit, looking at my hands in my lap, focusing away from the conversation, it isn’t until Tai speaks that I gaze upward.

“Wait… are you trying to say that the visions Mav is having are from outside the Glass?” Everyone goes quiet to look at the Reverend before they turn to look at me.

The Glass.

No one knows what is outside the glass. No one has ever been able to pass through it. It’s on every map and has been for decades. I have never seen it myself, but there are many recounts of a clear wall as tall as the sky. They say you can’t touch it. They say it flows like a curtain, glistening in the sun.

It had left all of them trapped inside the bubble of land they called Kreinta. It was their home, the only place they had ever known. Many villages lived within the Glass, just like this one, just like Qeena. We considered ourselves to be the Blessed. Those fortunate enough on the day of the Madidan’s sacrifice.

A group of five paladins had crowded around a tomb where they sacrificed their lives in order to create the glass shield that surrounds the contents of Kreinta. The Blessed were those that lived within, and those who lived without were less fortunate. No one knew what they dealt with today, but the rumor was that they had to deal with all of the monsters and spells that had existed before the Glass’s creation.

There had been others like myself within the Glass, those who spoke about having visions of monsters and creatures that hadn’t been seen for centuries, but none to the extent that I have. The amount I walked through another’s head was unheard of. Though we tried to keep it a secret, my parents anyway. That’s why we moved to this village in the first place. My original home had started hearing about my night terrors. They thought I was a threat to the security of Kreinta. I was only nine at the time, and so much had gone over my head, but my parents had packed everything very suddenly and we had simply left within the night. The two of them, my little sister and me. When I was young, I couldn’t understand, but now? I know why we ran.

My parents had always been so dead set on keeping my dreams a secret from everyone here. Only the elders of the village knew, and they gave us pardon to live here. But, as soon as the day spells began there was no hiding it anymore. Many people began to call me all sorts of names. I got used to it pretty quickly.

Adults look down on me, and children think I am the best thing since the wheel. Those my age have mixed opinions. Some think I’m an angel, many think I’m a freak. But… it doesn’t matter much, one just gets used to those things.

“That is what I am saying Taieem,” Kareem sunk his head so it would force me to make eye contact with him through my hooded lashes. “I think it’s time we consider your potential for being a Peram.” I can hear my father guffaw in the corner of the room. Peram’s were few and far between. They were able to glimpse outside the wall, though they came in all forms. Some had dreams like me, and some could simply draw out what they envision in a quick moment of creativity. Many didn’t like them, and many didn’t believe they should really exist. But before my father is able to counter anything my ma interjects.

“Are you sure? These really could just be horrible dreams, Reverend. We could try hypnosis more and see if the more he is able to talk about them, the less they occur?” She tries to offer. I don’t say anything, I know what I have to say probably won’t matter anyway.

“They are just dreams,” my father walks to the back of the couch, placing his hands on my shoulders. He was always very blunt on delivery; I can feel his fingers tighten on my shoulders. He wants me to agree with him.

“Yes, they could just be really realistic, horrible dreams,” Kareem agrees, brushing his hands through his long dark hair, “But you both have to be aware that there is a slight possibility that they aren’t. If I continue with hypnosis, which can only be his,” the Reverend points at me, “decision, otherwise it doesn’t work, there is a potential for the dreams to increase. If your son is a Peram, these visions will just get clearer, and come in more persistent than before.”

My mother nods, “We understand that.”

“No, we don’t!” My father’s voice comes in sharp as he pushes off my shoulders, running his hands through his wavy, auburn hair. “If my kid starts seeing more things that don’t exist, and people find out, our situation will get worse.”

“Our situation?” I’m quiet. Everyone turns back to look at me once again, it’s as if they keep forgetting I’m there entirely. “Because I’m pretty sure you are just worried about your situation. What happens to you if I go crazy. You don’t seem to be worried about me at all.” I sit up straighter to throw my father a stern glare over my left shoulder.

“Maverick!” My mother clips at me. I glance at her and roll my eyes at the face she is making.

“You don’t,” I repeat, “I always feel like you think I burden you with this. You don’t do a good job at hiding the fact that you’re scared about it. I’m starting to actually think you’re just scared of what everyone else will think.” I stand up quickly, Kareem doesn’t move and his coal eyes are crowded with sympathy. “It’s a good thing that Cayenne is normal,” I continue, “at least you have one good kid for backup when the village thinks I’m crazy.”

I roll my eyes once more as I straighten my sleeveless cotton shirt, ensuring it’s tucked into my pants. I step to the end of the couch where I pick up my leather weapon harness and sling it over my arms. There are only two brown straps that I must buckle together. The brown leather blends in with the undershirt. I slide each buckle into place across my ribs before pulling down on two strips to tighten the harness everywhere else. Under each of my arms are three small knives embedded within the thick leather, each is sharper than the last.

“And besides,” I quip once more, I lift up a second leather belt and clasp it just over my pant seams, “It’s not like you act like you want the visions to go away for my sake.” I tighten the belt and make sure my sword is secure on the right side of my body. I move around the couch and toward the door, grabbing a dark jacket to throw over my shoulders.

I gaze back at my friends, “Ya coming? We’re going to be late for practice.” The two of them look at each other, worry in their eyes, before following me out the door. I don’t watch them glance back at my home, as I walk ahead of them on the dirt path. We have a few cottages to pass before we really enter the village proper.

Their feet pad faster as the two of them catch up to me, one on either side. They don’t talk, they probably can see the steam coming out of my ears. But they’ve always been able to do that. They’ve always known when to let it rest. They are good friends. The best.

I met Taieem two days after we had settled within the village. I used to be very small, that’s changed over time for sure, but six foot me used to be the shortest and skinniest kid. Tai is older than me, she was also stronger than me at the time. Her big personality and bouncy red hair drew me in. I thought her freckles looked funny… I was nine, so I think I can get away with that. She was louder than all the other kids too, she was good at scaring them for a while. She still gives them a run for their money today.

Serik came along later when we were thirteen and fourteen. Tai and I had been a duo, but Serik had moved into the village looking for the same asylum my parents had with me. For a much different reason. Serik is a Body-Jumper. He was born in the wrong body and was forced to suffer the transition of turning himself into who he really was. Taieem and I have known many Body-Jumper’s, they’re more common than Peram’s, that’s for sure. There are over twelve within this village alone.

Many looked at Serik and really saw him now, and for that Tai and I were grateful. Serik was a pacifist at heart, he couldn’t even turn down a bug. There was a long time when we worried that people would fight him. Make fun of him for his changing looks, but that worry was quickly lost on us when the pacifist himself showed us his skill with smaller weaponry. To be honest, I feel like I carry daggers on me, just so that he can steal them when he needs them. Both Serik and I tower over Tai, but it makes more interesting standing naps. Serik slides his head onto Tai’s shoulder and I can rest my own directly on the top of them both. It works great for us… sometimes.

The two of them know me better than my parents and my sister. They know me better than anyone.

The three of us walk into the village proper and the midday hasn’t looked so bleak and unsatisfying as it does right now. People are everywhere meandering about getting things done for the day. And we have to cross it all in order to get to practice alone.

“Mav?” I glanced over to Tai, her head was cocked to the side, both she and Serik were feet ahead of me. I hadn’t realized that I had stopped walking.

“Sorry,” I shake my head, “I’m a little out of it this morning.”

“That’s understandable,” Serik replies with ease.

“You know one day, I’m just going to leave this place,” I admit after several seconds.

“Why haven’t you?” Tai questions. It sounds snarky, but I know she doesn’t mean it like that.

I glance from her to Serik, “I don’t know to be honest.” I feel my confidence and pseudo arrogance slipping away from me as I fail to keep up my outdoor façade.

“You wouldn’t last a day out there without us,” Serik quips. He walks back to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, “You know we really will listen if you tell us.” I gaze down into his dark eyes, he meets mine just as intensely.

“I know,” I begin to walk forward once more, “I wouldn’t know where to start,” I concede as they match my steps throughout all the hustle and bustle of the dusty street.

“How about with the boy of your dreams?” Tai asks curiously, though her voice is riddled with humor.

“We are not calling him that,” I quickly respond, shaking my head. My hair gets stuck in some of my lashes. Serik and Taieem look at each other across my chest.

“I think we are,” Serik counters nodding vigorously, “There ain’t nothing you can do about it.” Tai is giggling so hard her shoulders are vibrating.

“He’s just a guy in my visions, not the ‘man of my dreams’,” I quote with my hands.

“Are you sure though, I mean, Faye has been trying to get your attention for years and you’re about as dense as a doornail,” Tai places her hand on my shoulder. This conversation is getting old. “You can just tell us you like men, it’s okay.” She’s feigning so much ‘niceness’ that her voice has gone up several bars.

“I have told you guys several times, that I just don’t like her like that. I literally was with Alina for years,” I shake my hands out in front of me.

“Yeah, but where is Alina now? You know Tominick and Garion are very happy together,” Serik provides, “We just want you to be happy.” He places one of his hands on my shoulder as well.

“Oh, my Lord!” I sound exasperated as I push past them both, shaking their hands away from my shoulders, “You two will be the death of me. Can we just go to practice please?” I keep walking even though the two larks behind me can’t stop laughing at my own expense. I take back what I said about them knowing when to keep their mouths shut. They’re idiots. Big ones.

He’s not the man of my dreams, he’s just some guy whose head I invade from time to time… who also fights dragons. Some guy who travels the world and goes to new places and meets new people all the time. Some guy whose life is way cooler than my own… at the moment. Maybe they are just dreams, but I just don’t believe that they are. How can they be? They are the most vivid experiences of my life. I feel as though I am looking into a whole other life. I am experiencing everything that he feels as he feels it. I know they aren’t my emotions because I have felt that discourse too, where my fear breaks way for his bravery.

He must be real. He has to be. I have to find him.