The Dreamer Pt. Four

‘The boy may have seen the others who were there; I did not see that far into his mind. And I do not know who he was, except that I felt a kinship with him. But his mind! What an incredible thing it was.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘In some ways it was a very wise mind- like that of the elders, well-versed in the ways of life, full of knowledge, very empathetic to those in pain, and so forth- and in other ways, very childlike. He did not understand the desire that some have to hurt one another, to take without asking, to love without loving. Also, I did not know exactly what it was or where it came from, but I felt a power residing within him.’
‘A power? A power to do what?’
‘Anything. Anything he desired to do, he could do. And no one could stop him if he did not want to be stopped.’
‘A terrifying thought, that anyone could be so powerful.’
‘Perhaps. More exhilarating to my mind, in the hands of such a goodly soul. Imagine the difference such a soul will make in the world.’
‘Would make, you mean, if he were real.’
‘No. He was real- is real. I could feel him, Melorelah. Even as I feel you, or our people in the village down below us.’
‘Where did he come from? Did you sense that in his mind?’
‘Only two locations occurred to me while we were in each other’s minds. He is either from another time, or from another world.’
‘What did you see while you were in his mind? Anything to show you hints of where or when he came from?’
‘I saw many things, most of which I had no understanding for, or which only confused me. I saw him weeping a great amount, in his own mind- as though he had internalized his sorrow. I saw the bodies of those who had cared for him the most; his parents, now dead from some unknown, deathly poison or illness. I could see it in their still, cold faces. The boy was weeping, not knowing what has killed them but feeling that he should have been able to stop it.’
‘The poor child! I wonder what he will do now.’
‘I know not, but I feel that I shall dream of him again. Perhaps even tonight.’
Melorelah looked upon him, sadness written upon her face and in her eyes. ‘Where shall you spend this night, Adi? Among our people?’
‘No. I shall remain here, where I may ponder without distraction upon the experiences I have had.’
She looked as though she wanted to say something to him, but then stopped.
‘We love you, Adialon. I pray you, do not stay long away.’
‘I shall return as soon as ever I can,’ he promised. They embraced, and Melorelah turned to leave.
‘I shall ever pray for you, my brother.’
‘And I, you.’… He watched as she began to pick her way down the mountainside. When he could see her no longer, he turned and began to make his way to the top of the mountain. He knew of a large grove of trees at the top of the mountain, and it was to this he directed his steps.
An hour later he stood before the beautiful grove. The trees swayed gently in the breeze. He breathed in the cool, fresh air, closing his eyes for a moment to better enjoy the peace and serenity.
As he entered the grove, he saw the rock that he had visited, three years earlier. The scene was very familiar to him. Familiar, and yet strangely foreign, as though something fundamental had changed.
A wave of loss swept over him at what had been. Tears again came to his eyes as he knelt by the rock.
It is I who have changed. Adialon folded his arms and bowed his head with the tears pouring down his face.
‘Oh my Father in Heaven…’
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.