A dream is a wish on Aladren Commons

Kellen Mormont

November 13, 2016 1:23 PM

A dream is a wish by Kellen Mormont

”Do you remember what I told you?” Farrah spoke softly, gazing into Kellen’s eyes in a way he’d never seen anyone else look at him. Wait...was she speaking elvish?

“You said you’d bind yourself to me, forsaking the immortal life of your people.” He replied, his voice strangely confident as he reached out to touch the Evenstar necklace that hung around her neck.

“And to that I hold. I would rather share one lifetime with you, than face all the ages of this world alone. I choose a mortal life.” She replied, as he looked down to see that he was now holding the necklace that she was wearing only moments before.

“You cannot give me this.”

“It is mine to give to whom I will, like my heart.” Farrah said, closing Kellen’s hand around the necklace and leaning closer to him. His heart was racing with anticipation. He could almost feel her breath on his face, but it turned out only to be a breeze.

He was running now, and her hand was clasped tightly in his as they ran along the ocean shore. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. Suddenly, a man appeared in front of them, seemingly out of nowhere. The man looked very much like Kellen...which was a bit weird. As they drew closer, he realized he was actually looking at himself.

“Alright, both of you, answer me this.” Farrah demanded, stepping between the two of them. “When I last stood on this beach, on the worst day of my life, what was the last thing you said to me? Go on, say it?”

“I said, Farrah Welsh.” Real Kellen said, almost as if he were remembering.

“Yeah, and how was that sentence going to end?” She asked, looking to him with sadness in her eyes.

“Does it need saying?” Real Kellen asked, suddenly feeling a lump rise in his throat.

“And you, Kellen? What was the end of that sentence.” She inquired of the other Kellen. He leaned in and whispered something, and before Real Kellen could say anything, Farrah leapt into his arms and was about to kiss him when he found himself falling.

Falling, falling, and then rolling? He was rolling down a hill, and the only thing he could think of to yell was “As you wish!” That seemed a little inappropriate given the circumstances. Once he reached the bottom of the hill, he rolled on to his side and saw Farrah lying beside him.

“I told you I would always come for you, why didn’t you wait for me?” Kellen asked, as he brushed some of Farrah’s super soft hair back from her face. His heart pounding against his ribcage as his fingers lightly caressed her skin.

“Well, you were dead.” She replied, looking back at him with that same look in her eye.

“Death cannot stop true love, all it can do is delay it for a while.” Adrenaline, anticipation, whatever it was, this position caused a weird stirring in his stomach.

“I will never doubt again.” Farrah said, her face only inches from his own.

“There will never be a need.” Kellen said softly, closing the distance between them, and as their lips met...fireworks.

The Aladren blinked as his eyes opened. Of course it had all been a dream. Farrah, to his knowledge, didn’t speak Elvish. Plus, his body felt...weird. His heart was still beating fast, and he couldn’t quite shake the idea of kissing his friend out of his head. Something definitely wasn’t right. He peered through the darkness of the shared room, and it appeared that Conrad was still asleep. At least he seemed to be anyway. Maybe if he just went and splashed some water on his face, he’d feel better.

Kellen sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and as he searched the floor for his slippers, it dawned upon him. The young wizard sighed and clapped his hand over his eyes. Shaking his head, he tried to think of anything other than Farrah and her lips. It wasn’t long before anxiety brain kicked in, and while it helped mellow his feelings, it began to raise other concerns. He was aware that he was approaching that age when things would start to change, but this? This wasn’t something that he wanted to become an ongoing problem. How was he supposed to be around Farrah and not think about kissing her? Was he supposed to just not be friends with her? That wasn’t going to happen. And what if it wasn’t just Farrah that elicited this reaction from him?

Feelings sucked, Kellen decided. That, and that all boy boarding school his dad wanted to send him to was presently sounding really great.

((Godmodding of Farrah in the dream done with permission from the author))

5 Kellen Mormont A dream is a wish 341 Kellen Mormont 1 5

Nevaeh Reed

November 14, 2016 12:40 AM

I dreamed a dream by Nevaeh Reed

It began in total blackness. “Goodbye, Nevaeh.”

She took a few steps forward, completely isolated and afraid. Alone. But as she stepped, her legs wobbly with nerves, light came. She could discern a figure she knew was him, but he was walking away. Nevaeh launched forward into the blurred unknown, latching her hand onto his. He looked over his shoulder at her momentarily but did not speak.

She followed closely behind him, and eventually they came upon a trio of blurred girls she could tell were her friends: Tess, Raine, and Nat. They let him pass, but in an instant they stood in a line that broke her connection to him. “What are you doing?” Nevaeh demanded “I’ll be back and we can hang out later.”

“He’ll hurt you,” the girls said in unison.

“No he won’t,” the Aladren insisted, physically struggling to break through their line. There were no obstacles on either side, but it did not occur to her to go around; getting through was important. “He cares about me!”

“Not enough.” But they were gone, their bodies vanished as their one voice echoed. The instantaneous removal of the barrier meant a stronger charge forward, and she ran directly into something else, someone else. Her chin collided with muscle-coated collarbone; without even looking up, she knew who she had found.

“Jax Donovan.” She stood close--something stopped her from backing away--and could tell that his expression was blank. In fact, he seemed to look over her, not at her. Nevaeh raised her arms in a quick motion, but Jax was even quicker, seizing her by the wrists. Still he did not look at her, but his facial expression warped. Hot panic ran rampantly through her blood as she fought against him, wriggling to escape. Eventually she managed to free her dominant arm, and she swung for his head.

She made contact with his nose, and despite a well-known boxing history, Jax crumpled, covering his face. Nevaeh’s expression softened, and she knelt down beside him. “Jax?” she called gently. Her hand landed in something sticky, and she pulled lifted it to her face to examine it. It was blood. Jax’s blood. “Jax?!” she repeated with more urgency.

He slowly lowered his hand, revealing his bloody nose. He also had a black eye. For the first time, he looked at her, though he was not quite the real Jax anymore; there was a madness in his non-swollen eye. “It was for your own good,” he nearly growled. Then he transformed, and suddenly he was Scout. The German Shepherd that had been Jax whimpered off beyond her visible range.

Nevaeh stood weakly, the shaking of her legs renewed, and walked on once more. Soon enough, she was reunited with him. He was facing away, but as she got closer, he turned slowly to face her, his lips offering the ghost of a smile. “Nevaeh,” he said by way of greeting, and she felt her skin prickle. She froze in place, and he came the rest of the way to her.

“Barnaby, I-” His swift motion cut her off; sharp but kind hands landed beneath her arms, forceful but not painful, as he pulled her as close to his level as possible without completely taking her off the ground. She could feel his breath, and for a moment, she was lost in a trance, his pale face and icy blue eyes so beautiful, and such a stark contrast to her own dark features. He was a familiar, comfortable, and amazing blur, and she wondered how she could ever look away.

But she did, as something told her to look behind him. There stood his brother, Professor Pye, but he looked beyond her, much like Jax had. Nevaeh turned her head to see where he looked and was surprised to find her mother, Isis Carter, in a similar state. Action from Barnaby stole back her attention, her body dropping and reraising quickly as he snaked one hand all the way around her back and beneath both arms, holding her closer, and his other hand gently captured hers, raising it to his lips.

Her cheeks flushed, hotter than the sun, as his mouth made contact with her skin. But his kiss was… wetter than she expected. It was very wet, actually, almost like….

Nevaeh woke up and discovered her arm hanging off the bed. She reeled in her hand and found immediately that it was in fact wet. She rolled over to find Scout beside the bed. The third year had no way of knowing what time it was or if there was anyone else asleep in this room, but she did know it was a Saturday morning, so she took precautions, keeping her voice low as she addressed her service dog. “Licking again, huh?” she asked with a weak smile. “You must want to go get breakfast. Let me get dressed and we’ll go.”

She rose carefully, her legs still stiff with sleep, and found her clothes, each shift in her appearance focused on intently as she tried to let go of the strange dream she’d just had. And, she noted idly before pushing it away, if she could let go of a few other things, she’d probably be better off as well.

12 Nevaeh Reed I dreamed a dream 325 Nevaeh Reed 0 5

Clark Dill

November 17, 2016 11:18 AM

Boulevard Of Broken Dreams by Clark Dill

"Do you want to guarantee Aladren wins?" The voice was low. The tone was shady. It was, in all respects, exactly the voice of a trench-coat wearing tv villain, and when Clark turned toward it, that was precisely what he saw, complete with a handlebar mustache.

"What do you mean?" Clark asked, despite knowing perfectly well that this person was not one any decent person should engage in conversation. Every instinct told him to get out of there.

"I mean I can guarantee you a win in your game against Pecari. Is that something you'd be interested in?"

"How?" Clark asked in spite of the clamoring alarms going off in his head.

The man snickered and rubbed his hands together in a truly villainous way, just to hammer it over the heads of any young children watching that this was the bad guy who should never ever be trusted. "I can ensure the snitch appears right next to you."

Well, it was certainly cheating, Clark reflected, but this was almost normal behavior from a snitch, so he felt the chance of discovery was low and despite the clearly underhanded vibes going on, at least the victory wouldn't come at the cost of harming Jamie somehow or anything like that.

"What do I need to do in exchange?" Clark asked.

"Throw a transfiguration exam," the man said. "Take a failing mark."

Clark frowned, instinctively against any plan that involved failing a test.

"Just one," the man wheedled (the word was absolutely 'wheedled' - Clark had never before seen or heard such a classic definition of the word 'wheedle') , "your overall grade will barely dip."

Clark honestly wasn't sure why he was even considering this ludicrous idea. He gad a great team, he-

"Your team will definitely lose if you refuse," the man said, turning nasty suddenly, "walk away, and Jamie catches the snitch again. You lose and so does your precious team. You'll be out of the Cup before Thanksgiving. Some leader you are."

Clark stood still, unsure how to handle this new situation. It was one thing to refuse to guarantee a win, but a guaranteed loss was another thing entirely. He had grown to like winning, and having it off the table unless he cheated seemed unfair to all involved.

"I," he began, initially uncertain how he would end the sentence, but he knew in his heart there was only one right answer here. "I guess we'll lose then," he said sadly.

The scene shifted to the Quidditch Pitch and, for just a moment, he wondered how he'd even found a shady character in a shady alleyway when he was supposed to be at a school that didn't have alleyways but then his brain shut down that line on reasoning and he accepted that it had happened as he remembered it.

The game was starting and he took off on his flamingo, flying up on the skinny pink bird to standard cruising altitude. The bird had been his trusty companion for years and they had developed a rhythm for these games, but today Frank was not settling into it. Frank was, in fact, flying entirely wrong and ignoring his instructions. Frank was doing his own thing and Clark wasn't able to get him to follow the pattern. They were just flying wherever Frank's whim took them. Even when he thought he saw a glimmer, Frank refused to turn toward it to investigate, intentionally flying away from it. And when a bat cracked against metal, Frank just kept on flying sedately, like there wasn't an angry bludger coming right at them.

"Frank!" Clark yelled, kicking and shoving, "Dive!"

He didn't and the bludhe struck hard against Clark's side, unseating him from his flamingo and he started to fall. "Eiii!"

But the fall stopped short and he started reversing direction. He was falling up, flailing his arms and yelling for someone to do something, but he continued to rise up through the cloud cover until he broke through and saw the mothership hovering above the school.

"Hello, Clark," the shady man's voice said in his ear. "It's time to come home, son."

Clark shrieked and twisted and fell out of his bed, sweating and scared, heart pounding hard in his chest. But he was safe, and it was just a dream.

He checked the time and it was far too early to get up. He laid back down and hoped the adrenaline subsided soon and he could get a few more hours rest before breakfast.

1 Clark Dill Boulevard Of Broken Dreams 277 Clark Dill 0 5

Aislinn Nicolls

November 17, 2016 8:20 PM

Dream Only of Me by Aislinn Nicolls

Aislinn checked her lipstick in the mirror. Everything was perfect. Tonight was the night. She lifted the folds of the dress she was wearing so she wouldn’t trip and headed towards the grand hall. Arriving at the top of the stairs, she took a deep breath. Everyone was here and they were here for her, for them. She descended the stairs. All eyes were on her, including his. Taking his hands, she joined him in front of their family and friends.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, his hand moving to the small of her back. He guided her to the table where everyone was sitting. She took the seat that he pulled out for her. “I had the chef prepare all of your favorites.” There was steak, rare, of course, and baby red potatoes. It all looked amazing.

Soon, the dinner was over and they were on the floor dancing. All the images swirled around in a blur. Before she knew it, the music had changed to something softer and he was down on one knee. A black box was in hand. This was it. This was the moment that she had been waiting for. “Would you do me the pleasure of discussing differential equations in the study of potions forever?”

All of a sudden, Aislinn was on the other side of a glass wall, watching John propose to someone else. Someone that looked like her, but wasn’t her. She pounded on the glass. “No!” She screamed. What was going on? She started crying. She didn’t understand. Who was he with? She was just there. She had been there. She was still there. Why couldn’t she see what was going on? She could still hear the music and the people.

“They belong together.” A voice she didn’t recognize said behind her. She turned, seeing another Aladren male.

“No…you’re wrong,” she said weakly, but knowing the truth. She turned towards the glass. “That’s me in there. I’m going to say yes.”

“That’s not you,” he told her, touching her cheek tenderly.

“Yes, it is.” Her hand rested longingly on the glass. But she knew it wasn’t.

“Of course, I will,” Sutton told John before hugging and kissing him.

Aislinn woke up with a start. Her breath was ragged. She wiped her damp hair from her forehead. She knew it had been a dream, but she couldn’t help feeling angry with Sutton. How could her own sister betray her like that? She fell back onto her pillow. Her hand touched her cheek. What was up with that other guy?

0 Aislinn Nicolls Dream Only of Me 297 Aislinn Nicolls 0 5

Tasha DuBois

November 20, 2016 6:36 PM

Dream on by Tasha DuBois

Tasha was so hungry, so very hungry. Like she'd never been this hungry before in her entire life.

She made her way to the kitchens, the whole school eerily empty. No people, no elves, no anything. At the moment though, Tasha did not really care at all about that, all she was focused on was getting something to eat. If nobody else was here, that meant more food for her.

Tasha went into the kitchens, she knew that was not technically a place she was allowed to be but that was another thing she really didn't care about at the moment. When someone's basic needs weren't being met, that was all they could think about. Unfortunately, as she looked through every nook and cranny of the room, she'd come to a rather nasty conclusion-there was nothing here either.

Her stomach growled loudly, as though there was a wild animal inside. However, that was precisely the issue, there wasn't. Of course at this point, beggars couldn't be choosers and she'd definitely eat plants too. So the gardens were the next place Tasha went.

Somehow though, all the plants were dead, probably because with the elves and Professor Xavier away, there was nobody to care for them. Nor could she find any animals rustling about, no squirrels or rabbits or raccoons. Not even a beetle or cricket! Tasha was indeed at the point where she'd eat even bugs. Even a spider and they usually sent her running away screaming!

But there weren't any spiders, which would normally make her quite happy but not this time. So with the gardens a lost cause, Tasha made her way to the owlry but surprise surprise the owls were gone as well. She collapsed against the owlry wall, weak from hunger and feeling rather hopeless, as tears streamed down her face.

That's when she heard it, the barking. It was music to her ears, sweeter than the note any instrument could make. The Aladren came out of the owlry to spot her roommate's service dog, Scout. Since Nevaeh was quite obviously not around-as she'd be with her dog-Tasha called. "Here boy, here Scout..." She stunned the animal as it approached then lunged at him, devouring him bit by bit, not really caring that she wasn't acting very ladylike.

And then she awoke with a start. Her eyes focused as she spotted Nevaeh and Scout sleeping nearby. Tasha immediately felt a twinge of guilt. How could she recklessly eat someone's pet? Especially a blind girl's service dog. Still, she'd felt like she was about to die of starvation and done what she had to do. Besides, it was only a dream.

However, Tasha was still hungry, but this time, instead of devouring the German Shepard, she opened up the drawer where she kept her wasabi seaweed and ate that instead.

11 Tasha DuBois Dream on 323 Tasha DuBois 0 5

John Umland

November 21, 2016 4:20 PM

Only in dreams. by John Umland

The sunlight was falling over the floor of Julian’s library in thick golden blocks and the air smelled like home: old books, black tea, a hint of India ink. It occurred to John that there was something wrong, some reason why he shouldn’t be here, but he ignored it. There was work to do…wasn’t there?

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

He turned around and saw Lenore’s desk. The girl – woman? – witch who seemed to have said that, though, wasn’t Lenore: stronger features, lighter complexion, hair that was clearly just dark brown instead of black and which was so thick, shiny, and straight that John was put in mind of the back of a beetle’s wing. She was wearing Lenore’s white robes, though, and must have been much of a height with Julian’s cousin, because the chair put a crown over her head, too.

“Yes,” he said cautiously.

“Pity it’s not yours.”

“It’s ours,” he said.

The witch made a noise of clear contempt. “Please,” she said. “You heard Burhan. All of this is hers. You’re just the favorite help.” She smiled mockingly at him. “Not that I’m not sympathetic,” she assured him. “I can see why you don’t want to think about it. She couldn’t even begin to understand all the things in this room, but….”

John’s hands curled into fists. “Don’t talk about my sister like that,” he snapped, defending Julian automatically even as he thought it was probably true.

“Why are you always so irrational about her?” asked the witch. “Emotions aren’t relevant data.”

The witch offered him half an apple. He hesitated, fairly sure he shouldn’t take it but not sure why. Since emotions weren’t relevant, then, he took it from her. She looked sympathetic, now, as she put a hand on his arm. Her fingers were very long and she wore nail polish, the clear kind that made it look like she had a drawing of real fingernails over hers.

Suddenly, they were in a room he had only gone into once, a creepy sort of place lined with sleeping portraits. His companion gestured to them. “What do they all have in common?” she asked.

John looked around, too, seeing a chin like his sister’s here, a nose like hers there. “Money to burn?” asked John, thinking of how many more books they could have bought instead of having their portraits done.

“And?”

John shrugged and his companion shook her head. “They’re all dead,” she said patiently, as though explaining things to a child. “Their time’s over.” William appeared over her shoulder, accompanied by Bertram and the Ollies from Sonora. There was something wrong with them, though; they were like those-eerily-lifelike-Muggle-dolls versions of themselves. “Do you really think that lot are strong enough to keep it all going if you really want it gone?”

John looked over each one of them. “No,” he said.

He woke up suddenly, alarmed and not sure why. Rubbing his eyes, John sat up, lit his wand, and groaned when he saw his clock. It was very early in the morning, even for him. Rubbing the back of his neck, which hurt, he pushed his curtains open and looked around to see if he had woken Jax up before realizing that his roommate was gone again.

What, John thought irritably, ailed Donovan, anyway? He had thought nothing of it when his roommate had vanished for a while after they first started living together, but this seemed to happen a lot. He supposed he could just ask, but Jax did not exactly encourage conversation. John had tried being as friendly as he knew how to be for a long time, but either the fifth year was the reason John no longer had a room to himself or the fifth year just didn’t like him for some reason.

At any rate, though, he was gone now. The moon was full, enough to get around the room by, but John put on the lights since he was by himself. Sometimes, when he couldn’t sleep, putting on the lights and working on something dull for a bit would soothe him. He shuffled through the books on his bedside table and picked up his folder on book club notes and plans. As he did, his eye fell on Laila’s yummy illustrations of political issues, dutifully recorded because it was his duty as club president, and then his eyes moved to the empty bed on the other side of the room.

“No,” he said, for real and disbelievingly this time. Surely not. Surely not. That wasn’t even legal, was it? He knew his family had had a few intense debates on the subject of werewolves (his family was generally pretty inclined toward inclusivity, but it had to be acknowledged that Muggle parents, lack of magical talent in a magical family, a matched pair of chromosomes, and illegitimacy were not traits that could be passed along directly and intentionally to people who didn’t already have them), and those had happened because there were laws preventing them from doing some things. He didn’t know much about American laws, but he knew some prejudices were nearly universal in their world and did not see Mortimer Brockert as the progressive type. Schools largely could pick their students, he thought, at least in Canada, so…Surely not. He was tired if he was going that far out on a limb. At least, he thought, that meant he should be able to go back to sleep soon….

16 John Umland Only in dreams. 285 John Umland 0 5

Farrah Welsh

November 21, 2016 6:32 PM

Is it a dream? (NANO) by Farrah Welsh

Farrah looked up to see a school owl landing on her table at breakfast. She wasn’t expecting any mail from anyone back home, so she had no idea why she would receive a letter from home or who it might be, but she figured that with midterm coming up, her mother probably had some things that she needed to sort out with her eldest daughter. When she took the letter from the owl and watched it fly off with someone’s bacon in it’s talons, Farrah looked down at the letter in surprise. The handwriting was definitely not either one of her parents or any of her friends (sometimes her parents sent letters from them to her), but rather it was the handwriting of a child. There was only one child in Farrah’s life and it wasn’t one that she wanted to hear from at all!

Hi Sissy! the letter began

I can’t wait to see you for the holidays! Mommy and Daddy are so boring without you around. Mommy says that when you come home you have to take me ice skating with all of your friends so that I can have a good time too! You can’t do anything about it either, nah nah!

Farrah could hear her sister’s whiny voice mocking her as she said that too and it infuriated her! Corra was always trying to get herself involved in Farrah’s business and it was really irritating! Farrah could just never have her own thing; her sister had to always copy her.

I’m not supposed to tell you this yet but Daddy says that I’ve been showing signs of MAGIC! That means that when I turn eleven, I’ll be able to come to Sonora with you and we can be best friends and you can let me sit with you and all your friends! It’ll be so much fun! I hope to get into the same house as you and then I can ask if I can stay in your room and we’ll be together forever and ever and ever…

Bye Sissy!

Love,
Corra

Farrah was horrified. “No!” Farrah cried out loudly, jumping from her seat in Cascade Hall. Kellen and Georgia stared at her with wide eyes. “She can’t come! She can’t!” Farrah repeated, throwing the letter down. “Magic is mine. IT’S MINE!”

Her hazel eyes snapped open and Farrah sat up in bed. Her chest was heaving with anxiety and hot tears of anger fell down her cheeks. She looked around for a moment to figure out where she was and what had happened. After a few minutes, her breathing calmed down and the tears dried out. It was only a dream, well, nightmare really. Her sister was not coming here. Her sister certainly didn’t write her on her own, so of course it was just a dream. Farrah was still safe from her. Magic was still just hers.

Feeling better, Farrah laid back down to try to fall back to sleep again.

6 Farrah Welsh Is it a dream? (NANO) 344 Farrah Welsh 0 5