The Journal of Dreams (The Tales of Tahana - Book One)

Chapter 1: The Silent Winds

19-2-2-4012 DM, Arang, Telama, Hilaraya

Dari woke with a start. He remembered hearing a flute playing a restless tune and someone singing, beckoning him to come closer. As his mind slowly crawled its way to consciousness, he felt the song slowly slipping away as he desperately tried to remember it. He felt as if he was trying to pick up a strand of slippery glass noodle from a bowl with chopsticks made of porcelain. With a last futile attempt, he tried to snatch the song back from his dream into his waking mind, but it finally dissipated like smoke. He could still remember hearing a song, but he could no longer remember the notes, the rhythm... And the words... The words were unknown to him, yet they sounded familiar. It was as if he had heard the song before. But that wasn't possible. He had never heard of that song in his life. Or had he? He was no longer sure.

After some time, Dari realised that he was staring at the beams at the ceiling of his room. He knew that it was still very early because the light of the sun had not yet penetrated through the tiny cracks on the windows. It must be the seventeenth hour of darkness by his estimate, and, in an hour or so, the sun would finally start rising in all its radiant glory from the Melaku Sea.

Closing his eyes once more, Dari stretched his lean arms and long slender legs. He let out a mighty yawn, felt around his bed for his blanket and hid himself beneath it. He hugged his other pillow, curled to his left side, and felt the soft feather mattress that Amyi gave him last season as a gift to celebrate the coming of his twelfth cycle. He felt the cold morning air around him and it made him want to stay in bed forever. But of course, that was impossible.

As he lay in bed, Dari heard the soft bustle of folk moving about in the small seaside town of Arang. He heard the shrill voice of an old lakadu calling to his animals for their early morning feeding. A group of gossiping babini exchanged low murmurs as they passed by his window on their way to the market. A water buffalo groaned and huffed, followed by the sound of a creaking cart. These were the usual sounds of his morning.

After a few minutes, Dari thought he might as well get up since he knew that he wouldn't be able fall back to sleep any longer. He must have slept for a good ten hours. It really felt wonderful to able to sleep that long, but it also made him feel too lazy to get up. He pulled his blanket off his face and began to slowly rise from his bed. It was as if his entire upper body weighed five sacks that morning and the effort of sitting up was too much. A few grunts and sighs later, he was finally sitting upright even if his head was still trying to drift back to sleep and the rest of his body was still unwilling to move.

The air was suddenly filled with the mouth-watering aroma of garlic and onions frying. Dari heard the fierce hissing sound of ingredients as they danced around in hot oil in a pan. His stomach rumbled loudly. Time to get out of bed! He had always loved to wake up to the smell of a meal being cooked. Feeling as light as a feather, he stood up in one swift motion and started to make up his bed. After making sure that his bed covers were fixed in place and that his blanket was neatly folded over his pillows, he walked to his windows and slid the panels open.

Dari felt the cold damp morning air on his face and the sound of the town's hustle grew louder in his ears. He saw the eastern skies starting to show signs of daylight behind thin wisps of clouds as the sun slowly rose from its watery bed. It was still dark but his silver-grey eyes could see clearly in the darkness. He always had sharp eyes as far as he could remember and other people had always remarked on his keen eyesight. He could see the busy shapes of babini and lakani going about their early morning routines. It was like seeing dark shapes in a shadow puppet theatre against the soft glows of lanterns and candles from open windows. Morning mist hung low on the ground, adding a soft veil to the scenery before him. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly as he opened his eyes again. He turned away from the windows and regarded at the entirety of his room, giving it one last look before heading out. When his gaze fell on his small wooden study table between his bed and his cabinet, he noticed a fresh stack of paper on top of his sketch book.