Without even needing to open his eyes, he felt the sketchbook land right into the palm of his hand. It has been somewhat of an unconscious movement, but one that was deeply appreciated, especially since it made no direct contact with his head. He then fought against the protesting heaviness of his eyelids, forcing them to focus on flipping the pages.
In what were some quick strokes, he doted down word for word every single thing spoken by the guardians. The phrases muttered in their last conversation to be precise. Not even time would make him forget such a riddle, Hob would not let it, hence why he stored it physically while it was still present in his mind.
Had this outcome truly been a spur of the moment thing? Was the riddle just randomly chosen and gifted to him or was it just all prepared? For all he knew, the narrative may have known that this was what was meant to happen, the conclusion meant to be reached. The phrase having been ready to grace his being the moment he uttered the possibility, it having been selected by the mysterious lord.
This whole thing would be solved soon enough, for when his mind properly woke up. When it would eventually be prepared to obsess over this mysterious 'Prince of Stories'. But right at this moment? The words blurred where they resided. Maybe Louise was up to something, he may need to practice his calligraphy.
Giving his attention to the clock near him, he noticed how he had actually managed to sleep somewhat in today, having woken around nine. Another gift then, proper rest with a normal waking time. Him still even having an hour or so to lay about.
Toying with the pencil at hand, he quickly remembered another detail that he wished to write down. That being, the species of the creatures that had greeted him in his dream. There was no harm in gaining extra knowledge that may help him in the long run. Who knew what he could stumble upon, perhaps even ways to properly trick them according to myths, or something that could persuade them, if they worked through instincts. To bring a bribery of sorts.
Mythology had always been a fascinating topic, one that he didn't always get a chance to enjoy, he really should use this as an excuse to start. So much could be learned from tales told from mouth to mouth, from century to another. Many of which influenced a variety of writings, using them as base.
Happy with what he got done, he threw the sketchbook back to where it was, the pencil going along with it. Him only regretting it for a split second, considering it may have broken the lead. Didn't matter though, he much preferred to fake sleep at the moment, to just stay comfortable here and try to rest for a little while longer.
Hob was almost certain that he had managed to doze off for a few minutes at least, maybe an hour even. Now he felt a bit more up to waking up to the fullest. He had the luck that, as it was Friday, he would have an elongated weekend, considering he had them off. Another lucky schedule miracle that he obtained, which helped ease the pain of not having gotten Mondays instead.
With this being the case, it didn't really mean that he was without work. Mostly, it meant that he could be found in the New Inn. Covering what was some shifts or just helping his employees around the place, considering how busy Fridays could get.
Unlike others, he didn't mind the overflow of people that walked through the doors, the noise that they could cause. It just gave him an opportunity to listen to the lives of so many fascinating individuals. Something about the building, maybe its drinks or just the general atmosphere caused so many to just share every aspect of their day to day. And as someone interested in history, he enjoyed watching all these rumblings play out.
Wasn't it just amazing how much humanity had evolved with time, but still has the need to go out and socialize? Through these tiny sneak peeks into a person's mind, you can start to fantasize the impact that they could end up having towards the world. A beginning that could be due to mere coincidence, of meeting someone at the right spot. Made you wonder what destiny was up to.
He was getting ahead of himself, all that could wait until later tonight, when most would get out of work to get a pint. For now, he just finished dressing up, getting ready to go downstairs with his laptop, notes, and pens. It would help him kill time before joining the rest behind the bar.
Moving almost automatically, Hob went directly to what was basically his table. As if knowing of his approach, it was found empty, as it always had. It made him ponder if his employees kept it reserved for him, hoping that to not be the case considering how much he insisted that it wasn't necessary. He opted to believe it was magic instead.
With utmost care, he set his laptop down, turning it on as soon as he did. As it took its time, he let his hand roam, caressing the wood of the table. Helping to ground him.
Hob liked the feeling of the dips between the sections of wood. Often, he would find himself distracted by it, letting his nails submerge into the holes, sometimes creating new ones. A sort of play with the texture it created.
Noticing his presence at some point, one of the workers came up to him. Greetings out of the way, they asked if he wished to order something. Feeling quite hungry indeed, he asked for today's special, with a coffee to accompany it with.
The plate came soon after, while he flipped through his notes. An action that then turned into him writing stuff down, much coming from the research that he was diving into. Time flew past, the small numbers at the bottom of his screen notifying him of the hour, the cold coffee on his side stating it as well. He still downed it, not a drop left behind.
Having not wanted to dig into the riddle just yet, he had prepared some distractions. This led to him basically becoming an expert of what creatures were. The term in specific and the individuals of importance.
He has skimmed through many articles on the internet. Them just barely introducing what would be the tip of the iceberg. Ideas polluted his head, making him connect dots that may have belonged more to his imagination than anything else.
When looking for information in general, he found how so many cultures had creatures so similar to others. So much distance separating them all, but somehow, they all shared similar descriptions of beings that walked the earth. The main difference came more in what was the purpose of each of them.
Some of the aspects also became a game to himself. Hob read about what were the supposed beings and their most likely real life counterpart. It was incredulous to see how messed up they could make the basics of things. Some medieval art depicting this exact thing also came into his hands, deciding then and there that he needed a copy for his own place.
Gazing down at the papers close at hand, he saw how part of the data he had obtained were surrounded by doodles of the guardians. Most looking in what could be described in the crudest of manners. Turns out, they were almost as difficult to draw as the hands were, but at least you got the gist of it.
There were just so many questions he wished to ask them. Not that he thought they would dare answer, they would most likely just scoff at him instead. In a weirdly polite manner though.
At this specific time, he read up on all he could find of them, of their species, but there was a specific thing that was bothering him more and more. He wondered if it came from miscommunication between what was real and written. That was his bet anyway.
For the griffin and the wyvern, they appeared to be as seen. Their descriptions not too far from their truth. The hippogriff on the other hand... What a mess.
Even he would have called that a pegasus more than a hippogriff. It was a horse with wings, not whatever these creatures seemed to be. Would it be insulting for the creature to even compare them to these drawings? Are the horse variations what is actually meant to look like and not this?
In what he read, it was stated that the hippogriff was the result of the mating of a mare and a griffin. This being the reason why it was depicted as partially eagle, containing what was a horse's body. He didn't even want to think how something like that could be scientifically conceived.
It did make him think if there was a possibility for this creature to be related to the griffin though. Probably not, but it was a thought that went through his mind. Just like the supposed tale that said that it could fly to the moon, what if that's where the Dream Lord actually resided and that's why they looked up into the sky when communicating with him?
Never mind that, going the griffin route, he found it to represent power in various cultures, a symbol of it. It was also said in some depictions that it possessed the ability to cure blindness somehow. The deeper he went, he found out not only this, but that it had a possible connection with dinosaurs.
That he couldn't even begin to believe. Pictures flooded his screen of the fossils of many of the dinosaurs found. Ok, yeah, he could kinda see how people could come up with that conclusion. They did have similar builds if you didn't know what they were supposed to look like.
Now, jumping to the wyvern, this majestic creature is most likely part of the family of dragons. It was easy to tell that they weren't those supposed lizards considering that they had only two legs instead of the four. It's a bit funny to imagine them walking like everyday humans.
In some versions, it was said that their tail was a venomous stinger. Easy enough to strike enemies, Hob was just too glad to not have gotten that close to the one he met. He didn't think it would be pleasing to meet with that face on.
For the last thing, he also found the wyvern to frequent many coats of arms in the western area. They were really cool looking; he'll give them that. If he had the chance to put a cool dragon to his name, he'd do it in a heartbeat.
Maybe none of this was too helpful, but they were interesting facts to find out. He may revisit this all at a later moment. When he had the time.
Proceeding to close his laptop, Hob let his glasses lay on the top, himself taking a stretch then. Which may have been a mistake considering it left him disoriented for a moment, having to shut his eyes, willing the blurriness to leave. Rubbing his face, he let himself completely still for a moment, waiting for everything to return as it was.
That out of the way, he had to say, he felt proud of himself, he completed his main objective. That being, he didn't fall into the temptation of searching for the answer to the riddle that was given to him. For the many options that could appear.
He really wanted to solve it on his own volition. Hob believed that it would be like extra points for him. And plus, he believed it was implied that he was meant to bring the offering of the answer in person. So, it all meant that it must be something that he must be able to possess.
But now comes the logistics. Was he just supposed to hold onto whatever he deemed as the answer as he slept? Would it transfer to his dream accordingly? Or would it be all for nought? Just being able to know the object is enough?
A thing to tackle when he got the actual response to it.
A freshly made cup hit the front of the table, it being set by one of his employees. Probably them noticing that he was trying to solve it all in his head. He nodded in thanks, taking it upstairs so that he could first dispose of all that he was carrying.
Perhaps with a bath as well, and a change of clothes, he would take over the shift into the night. The freshness would help him get into the role better. And if he ended up feeling rather wishing for a challenge, he could do those sorts of things where you just remember an order, no need to double check the paper.
To be clear, he would write it down, just that right after, he would try to not see it. Or maybe he should just stick to the drinks, that may be easier. Less thought.
✧✧✧
"Only one color, but not one size.", Hob muttered to himself, low enough for it to just reach his ears. "Stuck at the bottom, yet easily flies."
For dramatic purposes, he looked at the windows, noticing the faint rays of the sun disappearing, "Present in the sun, but not in the rain."
Not England then, he joked mentally.
"Doing no harm and feeling no pain." Just, what could it be?
He had gone over it so many times, frankly, he had lost count. Without counting the times, he had said it out loud as he traced the phrases with his finger. He had repeated it so much that he had practically memorized it, the phantom of the words not leaving even as he closed his eyes, ever present.
If anyone would have paid him too much attention, they would have thought him insane. If he truly wanted to sell the image, he may have to start writing the riddle all over the walls. Over and over again.
Well, considering how he was known to talk to himself, especially rant, maybe it was a more common sight than what he previously thought. It being the case especially when something ticked him off. If you asked his students, hell, his colleagues they would say that the magic work would be that playwright. Even a mutter of him triggered a part of his brain, overrated, he would repeat each time, less condensed.
Even if his mind was in another place, he kept his ears open. Being behind the bar tended to make him a target for socializing, easy to talk to. It did help that he was quite a fan of listening as well.
That is how he made fast friends, by lending an ear. He held so many secrets and thoughts, gossip that even the ladies peeking through the window would dream of having. He supposed it was all his joyful energy and trustworthiness. Or the drinks.
Many options really.
Anyway, he kept his ears in working order, not just to be respectful, as he always tried to be, but also, to listen for anything that may offer him an idea. Something had to work out in his favor. Words upon words were spoken, something had to land.
A voice reminded him of what he was supposed to be doing, pouring some wine into a glass that is. He gave it a whirl, before offering it to the older gentleman that had asked for it. A liquid, water specifically, was his first answer he had come up with since it ticked most of the boxes.
That until you got to the rain part and then you felt a bit foolish for even having thought of it as a choice. He turned back, leaving the bottle of wine back to where it was meant to go. Hands hovering over the plants that were near the shelves.
Seeds, seeds could work. They were meant to be stuck at the bottom, nature blooming from them. It could even be said that they easily fly, that is how some plants populate other areas. But no, not that either, considering there were so many colors to them.
Thirds the charm as they say, for this instance, he thought about light. Something untouchable, but that you could feel all the same. Ever present in the sun, all the colors at once but still maintaining one in a sense. At the end he concluded with also no, since rainbows were a thing that it could produce.
Was the answer something more psychological? A mind thing? It has about as much probability as an object would have. But depending on the specifics, they could end up doing harm.
Hob stopped his caress as a glass hit the table, a bit too hard for his liking. They should know better; the material is obviously breakable. Most likely, it was just a random client tired of waiting to be attended and was forced to make noise to capture my attention.
Barely understanding what the guy requested, he took another bottle from behind him. A rum this time around. With an easy smile, he poured it into the cup, seeing if the light went through it, around it. Giving it a little push to the left, it caused all the lights that had been turned on at this hour to hit it just right.
Oh.
✧✧✧
"It took me a while I must admit, but I think I got it! Aren't you all proud?"
Of course, it had been something obvious, right under his nose. Under his body really. Under anything.
It is always the easiest of answers that are dismissed. One does tend to think it is more complicated than it should be. For that would be the only explanation of why they would be chosen in the first place.
At the very least, this was probably one of the most convenient things to take with him, for it is a part of him. Every person possessed their own variant, only belonging to themselves. It was impossible to steal it, unless there was a creature known for stealing shadows, kinda like Peter Pan, now that was a scary thought.
Hob looked behind him, as if making sure it was still where it was meant to be. That it hasn't just gone up and walked away. Yep, all good.
A shadow, it was such a simplistic answer, but it fit the requirements. Or he hoped it did. This whole thing made him wonder about riddles and such. What if a riddle had more than one answer?
Would it still count it as solving it? Or would it end up rejected because the being could have another answer in mind? Hob supposed it all depended on how well one could defend their point.
With this in mind and having had the test of the night free to think, he had prepared an explanation if asked. While also having possible counterpoints if objections were thrown at any moment. He would leave no weaknesses.
Just as it was yesterday, he appeared once more by the entrance of the maze. Landing smoother this time. He was improving somewhat it seemed.
Making sure he was presentable, no grains of sand on him, he headed towards the creatures. Just after having said that, he properly greeted them, with a wave as well.
"Hey guys, I know you must have missed me, but I'm back."
"Welcome Robert Gadling.", they spoke in the same order again, he thought that maybe they would have switched it up for today.
"We are not meant to miss dreamers, just to serve them when needed."
"As our Dream Lord commands."
That was a hundred percent a yes if he had ever heard one. They were just hiding behind duty. Hob was fairly certain that their lives must be boring as of late, all because of their lord.
"Missed you all too." He gave them a toothy grin. "Guess what! I have brought you all the answer to your riddle."
"Your presence was an indicator that you have come up with a solution."
"It would have been no guess.", the creatures flapped its wings twice, before letting them rest on their back.
"You would not have appeared had you not thought of the possibility of an answer."
"And a possibility I have brought, pretty sure the correct one too. I must admit, it took me a while to get to it. I really should do more riddles; they do say that they help strengthen the brain. Gets you smarter."
"Do not dawdle, little one."
"Offer what you have decided to bring."
"Give it to us and we will give it our fair judgment." Hob couldn't take the horse seriously, all he thought was about the difference of forms.
Maybe he was blabbing for a touch too long, it caused him to scratch his ear in embarrassment. Maybe there was some merit to his old dreams, it didn't make him feel bad for talking a bit more than necessary. He just liked informing others of the process he would make, how he would get from point a to b.
"Fine fine, all I meant to say was that you all did a good job choosing the question. Almost made me wish to get help for it."
Hob wasn't sure how, but he could swear that a type of pridefulness spread on the creatures' beings. As if happy at having done a good job. Poor things.
It was possible then that they had come up with it by themselves, with no help from the heavens. Would it have been harder if it had been their boss the one to choose the riddle? Best not to think about it.
"As you said, I've brought the offering. The solution to the test." To add to the dramatic flair in which he intoned his message, he spun around, the sun seeming to follow him.
His shadow seemed to grow on the floor, filling the area, like a lesser scale of what the castle had done a few nights prior.
"I give you all my shadow, my most loyal companion, ever following. For it has one color, but not one size, it is always present where there is light, not darkness, it can do no harm, and it doesn't feel pain."
He felt pleased with the delivery, even his surroundings having played along. He had to thank the dream later. It did make him look good.
Twirling to look back at them, Hob finally took a breath, one which he hadn't known he had been holding. Not like it was strictly necessary to have air here. The others found themselves frozen, before their faces turning into approval of what he had given.
The griffin bowed towards him, "You have asserted our riddle."
"For shadow was the answer we sought, the puzzle piece that fit in." The wyvern bowed, following the other.
"And you have brought it." The hippogriff followed the others. "As you said you would."
Hob felt really giddy at the moment. But not overly comfortable at the weird respect bowing thing they had going on. He urged them to go back as they were, trying to sound grateful, but that it was unneeded .
What he did fail to notice was how on the floor, his shadow had never stopped growing. It had split into three, all in different opacities, overlapping each other from where they originated. As it tended to do when there were many lights on top of a single object.
The separated shades stretched, until it draped over each of the guardians.
"We are keepers of our word, for that, we shall let you continue on the path. Go, with no fear, for you have earned your way past." They all spoke in unison.
The fractured offering turned into shadowed forms of hands. They took hold of the creatures, them soon becoming undone, fading into nothingness. He wasn't sure if the hands had taken them back or had merely destroyed them. All he could make out was the falling silhouette of them, fading into what seemed like sand.
The grains promptly hit the floor, joining the rest that was found under. The last reminders of what had been there in the first place piling up. He knelt down, letting his hands gather some, before letting it fall, in an even manner.
Hob whispered his goodbyes, as he thought that the wind may carry his message. He felt bad for not wishing farewell. He was taught better than that.
Guilt fluttered in his chest, had he done this? Had his shadow actually taken apart the beings that were trying to stand their ground? Was it an attack not foreseen by then or him? Probably not, they were calm during it all.
That's most likely it, they just used his offering as a tool. For it was part of his dream, and his dream belonged to whoever the hands were a part of. Fairly certain that they were the same as the pale ones from before.
He was also pretty convinced that said Dream Lord was the owner of those.
Once more, he turned around. Yep, his shadow was still there. Returned to its natural look, or as natural that it could be replicated in this space.
Moving frontwards, he inched his head up, lungs constricting in his chest as he looked ahead. The entrance was just as he had left it the first time. Shaking the nerves off himself, and with a deep breath, he took a step in.
... ok, this was maybe all a bit anticlimactic. He expected the air around him to change or something. To become dense as someone traversed its territory. As if warning him to leave it be, scaring him off.
It felt the same as the outside. Which was a relief in itself, don't get him wrong. He was just surrounded by green.
Wait, surrounded?
He turned around. There was no entryway to be seen, it having been shield as he crossed the threshold. No way back. Unless he begged he imagined.
"Now you don't even want me to leave, dream. After fighting me away so much with a bunch of guards. I knew I'd get you to like me." He laughed, looking at the castle in between what he could tell were clouds. "See, wasn't it much more fun to have a riddle and fairytale elements than having me try to stubbornly climb a wall?"
The silence that had accompanied him started to crumble as the leaves shook, from where he stood, as if trembling with laughter.
"Oh, don't tell me you would have actually enjoyed that. Sadistic bastard. You just wanted to see me fall straight on my arse."
Hob grinned at the castle, eyes crinkling in delight at how the environment seemed to react to his words. More of a reason to keep talking to the ghost of this place. It's a nice response to have.
"Don't worry, I'll get close to you eventually, just you wait. I'll even try not to get distracted by your home. You can give me a tour later. I deserve it for basically being your jester."
The rustle went by once more. A friendly thing, but one that seemed to grow weaker as it passed. As if constraining itself, remembering place. Or that's how he decided to read it, not wishing for the other option of maybe the dream dying or that he would be waking up soon.
This environment may keep its mouth shut, but he wouldn't, he would fill up the space. He would not let it unnerve him; he had enough words for the both of them. Better him enjoying the sound of his voice rather than going insane.
At least he was sure he would be heard, for the feeling of being watched hadn't retreated. Just as it hadn't for the past few days. Eyes burning his back, even if he was trying hard to ignore them.
He kept smiling, pocketing his hands, not sure where to go from here. Probably for the best for him to just start walking. See where the maze led.
One couldn't tell from the outside, but it was quite straightforward in the beginning, the back walls seeming to stretch for meters in front of him. As to be expected, the castle maintained its proportions, not changing as he continued each step. Even the floor retained its sandy look, the same aspect as its outside, somehow, he had thought it would change to reflect its other counterparts in the human world.
"So..." Hob took it slow, strolling ahead, staying right in the center area. "Did you know that there are ways to get to the center? I researched it all, well, as much as one can find in a few days, best to be prepared."
He kicked some of the sand, seeing it fly around him before steadying itself back onto the ground, returning to its weird perfection. It kept him entertained for a while. Seeing it almost form shapes, most likely made up by himself as he tried hard to think.
"But you probably already knew that, doubt anything would go over your head. Do you even have a head? Do dreams have heads? I mean, it is a dream, I wouldn't put it past it."
"Whatever, back to the topic at hand. There are some tricks here and there that can help a traveler, such as myself, to get to you. Have a proper meeting even, it is basic manners to introduce one to another, especially after being in each other's presence so often now."
With a foolish hope for more reactions, a sign, he looked up into the castle, into its windows, "I suppose it's not really needed; you already know who I am, this is my mind and all. You probably know way more than what I would particularly like." He scratched his ear.
"I mean, your... servants? Guardians? Creations? Not sure, those guys seemed to know who I was, knew my name even. Not at all fair by the way, and don't say something like, them referring to you by your title is an introduction, still doesn't count."
"I'm willing to share more about myself if you are too. We'll become besties soon enough, my charm will work wonders on you. Once that becomes the case, I give you permission to call me Hob. And if you are nice, I may even tell you the origin of that particular nickname."
The first crossroad broke him out of his ramblings, making him stop and assess the situation at hand. The decision making had finally caught up to him, probably a sign from the lord to shut the hell up. Here's where the nifty tricks came to use though.
He pointed up to the structure, before gesturing around, "And now the fun begins! According to the website I used, you need to set landmarks first." He looked around, no such things other than where he was pointing in the first place.
"Even I knew that was going to be the case, absolutely nothing other than your gorgeous castle. With something like that, I also wouldn't waste my time making other areas either. Just not needed, scarcity does help make it pop."
Not that it would be a waste of time, he hadn't meant to phrase it like that. For all he knew, this Dream Lord could take his words at face value instead of how he intended them. That was one of the first things you learned as a child, to make sure you are properly understood to have the least misunderstandings.
At least he complimented his main work, that must count for something. That's what he would tell himself either way. Anyway, since this has been a no go, then he would move to option 2.
"Since that's the case, no help for me to remember, then it's time for my next trick. Would you like to guess what it is?" No response. "Exactly, marking the path through other means."
Was this how cartoon characters felt like when they talk in their show but not even the children respond? Must be, not that different from his teaching. Especially in the morning or late night, the classroom reflected more of a cemetery than anything else, and even the ghosts tended to answer more often.
So according to the forums, and the obvious myth, one of the ways to help guide a person in these situations is by marks. Something to show where you have been and how to come back. From a simple string to methods of coloring the wall.
Of course, it didn't occur to Hob to bring such a thing to help in these endeavors. Having been so preoccupied with the riddle, the actual solving of the maze was sent to the back burner. Something that he kinda regrets now.
Not enough though, considering that having not solved the riddle, it would have taken longer to even reach this place. Best to accept the small wins. And plus, it was good to take your time and work things through at the first go. See what was helpful or not, to improve the later returns.
Slow steps still shorten the distance to the end.
Taking his time to see if there was any visible difference between both sides, from that or from the noises coming from them, he found nothing. Nothing to distinguish one from the other, a perfect mirror. Symmetrical in its very essence, giving it a wrong feeling of harmony.
It felt like Hob was stalling the inevitable, he didn't even trust just waking up and falling asleep right after gaining a tool to help him. For all he knew, it may just be a waste of time, not passing with him here, or maybe it would cause the dream to throw him back out there. There was also the probability of yes, appearing inside the maze, but in a random section of it without even knowing it, like a mouse in a lab.
That would be an issue that he would have to figure out at another moment, as in tomorrow. Instead, he moved on to another idea, imagining something to come to his aide. With a quick close of his eyes, and some deep thoughts, boom, he could manifest something like lipstick. Or just paint, need to be more original, whiteboard markers to match the teacher aesthetic.
Taking a deep breath, he did as he mentally pictured, thinking about what he wanted.
...
Yep, nothing happened. Surprise surprise. He would have to practice a bit more to get a proper handle of that skill, or maybe it was like a last minute resort power.
He threw his head up, almost supplicant in the action, puppy eyes and all. Maybe the dream would take pity on him. Or he could perhaps achieve a small laugh once more, still nothing.
Fine, not that, not that. The floor! The floor was sand, he could most likely trace where he went. Or hard footsteps could be left in his wakening. Kneeling quicker than was most likely wise, he tried to dig, dipping his fingers first, with that not working, he proceeded to properly try to scratch at the floor.
It was practically stone, not a single gran moved out of place. Now it was just being obtuse on purpose. From all things not working as they should, of course the sand became as if frozen. He tried another scratch just to seal it.
This whole thing caused him to glance back for the first time in a while, noticing how he hadn't created any tracks as he went, no dents on the sand as he walked.
"I see how it is, you dip when it is my face that planted on it, but not when it's actually useful. You know what, I'll take it as a compliment. You liking how my face looks so much that you were willing to hold its shape." He couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of such a thing.
"So... no markers appearing most likely also means that you won't let me imagine some breadcrumbs either to litter the floor, right?"
No change being felt in the air was his answer. Still no pity on his person. Nothing of nothing, no objects, no marks, no way to show where he's been.
Hob suddenly jumped as he felt something touch his arm. It wasn't like he was scared of bugs, but he definitely preferred them off of him than on. To his relief, it was just a string that was hanging from his sleeves.
A string hanging from his sleeves...
A string! Maybe not golden, but he hoped it wasn't like an actual desired aspect that was needed. All he had was this fainted colored one.
As he started to pull at it, he could've sworn that it started to glow golden, just as in the story. If this was truly the route the dream would be taking, then he would have to bring something to arm himself with for next time. To make sure to be protected if a minotaur did appear. He didn't trust getting to kill him with just his bare hands like Theseus in some variations.
Was he truly willing to unravel his shirt? He liked it just as it was, would it transfer to the real world if he did? Would it even be enough? Would it disappear next dream and erase his progress?
There was nothing to fear, for the string broke not even after a few centimeters were pulled. Just like a normal thread would. He groaned deeply, not at all satisfied by this turn of events.
Throwing it behind him, he ran his fingers through his hair, giving up on those things, "Next time, I'm bringing a paper or something and I will write a map of this place, make note of every turn I make."
There were no more excuses that he could use now, so he made his way to the right. No more wasting time on just standing making a fool of himself. Just proper decisions now.
"I'm just gonna follow the always take the right rule. You may have heard of this too, it basically just says to always take a right, and if you hit dead end, move to the next option, and then continue with right. It's to help you not get lost."
It was pretty self explanatory, but it helped to say it out loud. He had quickly learned as the years went by to not take for granted information that he had. No matter how obvious it may be to him, it may not be for all.
Feeling somewhat more secure than having just done eenie meanie miney moe, Hob went to the road chosen. With the first decision done, the rest came easier. He just kept following the right path, mentally marking a map in his head. To keep him up to date of where he went.
After a few turns of the same, he started to wonder if it was truly worth it to be so precise, it took the fun out of it. Maybe the other sides would have more spontaneity, not just repetition of the same landscapes. He should have at least mixed it up, going backwards, always heading towards the left.
Who was he kidding, it would most likely all be the same no matter where he chose to go. He had accepted that, but there was still this small thing that made him feel uneasy about this. That being, that there were no dead ends, just an ever going lane.
Maybe this was a labyrinth instead. If this kept up, he would start calling it as such.
Before Hob could mention this train of thought out loud, his mouth slammed shut, for he was sure that he could hear something, somewhere around here. Now he felt a bit foolish for having neglected sound in his observations. Him only noticing when his friend tried to communicate with him. He had just believed that noise over all wouldn't come too much into play.
When one paid attention to it there was a faint sound of the leaves shaking from the barely felt air, as they hit one another. There was also the crunch of the sand underneath his feet. And if he pushed it, the flapping of wings, which may very well be attributed to the wyvern of before.
He just hoped it hadn't changed its mind, or that it was looming in circles over him.
Excluding all of those, he was accompanied by mostly silence, for the dream didn't see why it was necessary to replicate the liveliness of his world. One of the things that happened as the humans evolved was the noise. There was always noise, always a back hum, someone talking, someone moving, machines working.
This was a respite of all that. It made you realize how much happened around yourself, only becoming clear when one experienced this type of emptiness. The same type that one may feel at night in a field, far away from anyone and everyone. Instead, as expected though, they did also share the same peacefulness, it didn't oppress.
For all its eccentricities, it still felt safe, for the dream could not hurt him. It made it feel normal. As if this is how it should be.
Maybe if he asked nicely, then the Dream Lord may at least offer some music to join his adventure. He wouldn't mind a soundtrack, especially if it was chosen by him, but he wouldn't be overly picky. And if the Lord had anything to say about his singing, then he can keep those thoughts to himself.
As he pondered this, he ran into a three way path. He made the gesture of heading towards the right, but was stopped mid way, for the noise that had assaulted his ears returned stronger. Not his imagination then, well, you know what he means, just inside this facade of his head.
Taking time to visit each of the options, he found out that they all had their own projection of sounds. Every one of them promised a different ending, sweet words pulling him closer wishing for his person.
Fighting for his attention and choice.
In a way that could only be accomplished in a dreamscape, he was able to see what came from where, to be able to separate what he heard and analyze it. Hob took it upon himself to hear all that they said, what they offered. Giving it their all so that it would be enough to sway him over.
The left had what he could only describe as an assortment of grandiose instruments. Close to what one would hear when someone was to be presented, to acknowledge their arrival. It was an orchestra filled with every sound imaginable. From strings to percussion, wind to anything in between. From new and old eras lost to time.
When Hob moved to the middle, it brought nothing of change, being the same as before. There was the rustle of leaves, the crunching sand, but... something joined them. It was faint to make out, but it complimented the choruses left by nature. A touch of wonder, mystery, a sharp call with promises. A beginning to an end.
Still reeling from discovery that he could hear concepts; he ended up on the right. Inside it, there was a tone of seductiveness to its call. The same felt when one grew tired and wished for bed. A lulling voice whispering to come rest, benefit from its rewards.
Shit, this was harder than expected, for he wished to venture to them all. Oh, how he wanted to be able to break into three versions of himself. To discover what each route represented, what it hid. For him to know and be able to be satisfied with the answer. To not be left wondering.
Sadly, he still couldn't manipulate the dreamscape enough to do such a thing. He would just need to keep it in mind, ask once he met the lord. For he would, it was a matter of when not if.
There was also the chance that they could go around and meet him again later in another crossroads. Same options. Repeated for they were his to see. But first things first...
For as much as he would like to go left, he would have to discard that one. It seemed too much and too little. The noises wanted to announce someone, but that someone had beyond infinity of possibilities.
For, could they wish to present himself to whatever laid ahead? Could they be preparing to meet their king and he was meant to see as part of the audience? Was it the presentation of some nightmare creature that would just end up cutting him into tiny, even pieces? He wasn't looking too forward to finding out.
As for the middle, it trying to replicate what came before left him wary. It wasn't the same, as if trying too hard to be it. But, but, it could be a mislead. Maybe it was the correct way, but it was just messing with him by changing its normal. But then he thought about the promises and, yeah, not that one either.
Now, the last one on the other hand. That one he had already decided to choose, since it was the right one. The rule said to go right, as he has been doing, he wouldn't break it now. It was only fitting that a voice such as that would guide him, just as it does when he is awake. Seems foolproof.
Nodding to himself, he walked on, biting back a grin, as he felt like he did the right thing. Pun not intended. He pocketed his hands as he got two, maybe three steps in.
He swiftly turned around and went on the middle road.
Rules were meant to be broken. Paths made by oneself and not dictated by others. So yes, middle he would go to.
Giddiness built up in him as he went out this way. For he wished to see what was prepared for him, to heed the call of mystery wrapped in whispered promises. Though, he did hope that it wasn't a true end, what he felt. He was barely starting as is.
To add to the chorus of this place, he added some whistling. A token of his own, to be taken or rejected. A soft melody to share the space, not intrude it. A reflection of what he intended and had in mind.
The remaining walk wasn't too long, even at its stroll-like pace. A few meters at most, and just as he feared, he hit a dead-end. At least they had finally caught up to him.
Considering that it was his first, he hoped that if anyone was looking that they kept a timer on themselves. Hob would just love to know how long it took him to reach this place, his first misstep. To keep a high score against anyone else that may have the same opportunity of accessing this place as him.
He couldn't call this a complete failure though, for the wall that awaited him was nothing like the ones that had been around him for hours now. He just had to whistle at the display. Maybe this was meant to be, not a mistake as he had been beginning to think.
It was so out of place, but it also seemed to work with the surroundings. As if the leaves were encompassing the bigger image, one which was sculpted in rock. One that held images upon images.
It may be his eyes playing a trick with him, but a light also seemed to fall on it, helping to form the shapes. Contrast appearing from it and its shadows. Flickering told him that it may have been an unwanted effect, but it couldn't be found against.
It highlighted it all, showing bits and pieces, showing what may be the highest points of interest. This wall was a lovingly detailed telling of a story that words cannot express, not by human ones at least. It was beyond perfect, the craftsmanship, so well done that no person would even dare to replicate. Basking in its presence is more than enough when confronted with it.
It forced the viewer to wish to step back, not in fear, but to be able to admire it as it deserved. The image contained no color, it being pure engravings on stone, polished until no sharp end could be found. It beckoned for his touch, wanting him to experience its unnatural smoothness.
When it came to identifying its contents, it was quite the task, for they could only be described as contradictory. It was fully saturated but felt deserted. It had a unity to it, but so many aspects contrasted compared to the rest, making your eyes run through it over and over again. Each time he would fall into a distinct area, finding more shapes and forms taking place. The harmony it held had a tension of a bowstring.
There were so many stories trying to be told at the same time, too many things being portrayed, but there just wasn't enough space. Not enough time to be able to wrap one's mind around it. He couldn't make sense of it, not at this junction. So, he did the next best thing.
Hob traced his hand over the imagery, finally answering the call that took him this far. It caused him to faint hard. Not something he thought possible in a dream, but there is a first to everything. He was kinda thankful, he loved to experience anything that life may throw at him.
That thought carried him through the darkness that was found behind his eyes before he reached his new destination. It didn't take long to be able to get out of that state, him slowly getting his bearings in order. Hob tried to keep his annoyance to a minimum, doing a bad job at hiding it, for he was not happy at having been wrenched from the maze. As long as he kept this feeling up, then he could forget about the fear that was creeping on his shoulders, the fear of the unknown, as he found himself now surrounded by emptiness.
There was just nothing.
A trap, it had to be. One that he fell for as the idiot he was. Keep your hands to yourself Gadling.
Thankfully, the passing out was nothing more than a formality. No effects were left on his person. Serving much more as a distraction, to keep his mind off of the movement that may have left him sick if awake.
The change had felt like a blink of an eye, but now, in this stillness, time went on for hours, making it hard to discern the exactness of it all. Hob just wished for something to happen. If he was to restart his whole process with the maze, then he wanted it to be worth it.
Patience, was whispered into his mind. By his own voice or another, he was not certain. So, he did as said. Though, as he looked around, he couldn't find a single place to perch himself. Or at least to sit.
There wasn't even a floor really, he didn't know what he was actually standing on. At the very least, he had the mercy of being able to see himself, every part that was connected to his body. It gave him something to entertain himself by.
Something had changed. The space was as it always was, filled with the night sky, stars illuminating every aspect it grazed. It was as it was, for it made it seem as this is where he was since the very beginning. No explanation, no reason, it was just there. It existed to exist.
No planetarium would be able to create a show of lights as magnificent as this. There were so many stars around the space, some that he couldn't identify, while others were mixed into constellations he was aware of. It shone brighter than what he had ever witnessed, an image as old as nature.
They glittered, sparkling all over her as she maneuvered herself. Hair flowed on her back, as a river might through a valley. It did not hide anything of her image, accentuating it better said, making it appealing, for there was a meeting happening.
She had gone to meet someone, familiar in form, a relative concept.
A being that now he knew, had always been there. Overlooking, observing, doing nothing to approach, but ever changing. Those two met, not in the middle, but everywhere. Their touch encompassed each other, no area left bare.
A lover's embrace, one not meant to last, but that would represent a beginning. A moment to look back to and admire. To study, to wonder about.
From their union, other living forms were created, each bringing their spark to the space, adding to the mixture. One by one, duties and obligations were created. Children already burdened with tasks to execute for as long as they live.
Just as an unfathomable life was born, so was an innocence. One filled with portions of the night sky. It held such knowledge, but they knew nothing as well. They could hold no proper form, but they could be felt, their influence specifically.
For they brought prosperity, hopes, a story to be told from one to another. Sand fell from their hand, softly raining over the image of the first living form. The starry eyes making sure it worked as it should. A small smile being felt in its wake.
Not that Hob could grasp all of this, for no mortal mind was meant to know such specifics. Such details. But elements stayed in his mind. He somehow understood what was being portrayed, the message. For this is what was meant as a beginning to an end. Beginning of the new world, and end to its past. Before he could give it deeper thought, he roughly woke up. As if his presence had just been found wandering the memories that, as mentioned, were not his to see. This being cemented deeper as he felt those same starry eyes befall him a few seconds before throwing him back to the waking.