Dreamwalker's Bride - Chapter 121

Chapter 121: An unseasonal activity
Trace opened his eyes in the broken cave that was once his dream world. He sighed. He hadn’t fixed it last night, spending his time with Anaisa. It would take ages, years even, to restore it to what it had been.

But he wouldn’t start tonight. He ran to the edge and leapt towards Anaisa’s tenuous orb with a smile.

She hadn’t told him not to come back tonight. When they’d said goodnight, he had stared at her with the question in his eyes, wondering if his permission would be extended or revoked.

The small smile on her lips as she nodded slightly made his heart soar.

He leapt into the dream and paused to get his bearings. He would probably have to go through the process again of reminding her she was dreaming. It was something he loved and hated doing.

Loved, because when she treated him as a figment of her dream, she was readable and open. Hated, because he always feared she would resent his presence and cast him back out into the void.

The dream he found himself in was flavored with stress. Anaisa stood in a far corner searching for something in a chest, and then a box beside it. Frantically sorting and examining each item. Around her was a veritable mountain of boxes, cabinets, drawers, and other places to be searched.

Carefully, he said her name to draw her attention. She spun to look at him, and a pile of boxes shifted and fell.

“It’s all right,” He coaxed, concentrating on trying to stabilize the dream.

“Trace,” She breathed, pushing hair back from her face and scrunching her brow. “What are you doing here?”

“You want me to leave?” He asked, knowing it was her subconscious and not a willful answer. Even so, he would honor her request if she wanted him gone.

“No… no,” She frowned. “I’m trying… something. There’s something I’m trying to remember.”

“That this is a dream,” He offered gently.

“Yes, yes, it’s a dream, but there’s more.” She brought a hand to her head. “There’s something else.”

“That I’m real. I’m not part of your dream,” Trace smiled at how quickly she seemed to be catching on, while keeping her dream almost completely stable. Apparently, practice or repetition improved this facet of the process.

“I know,” She shook her head. “I know that, but… oh!”

Trace startled as she looked at him suddenly with very wide eyes.

“Oh?” He prompted, confused by her swift mood change. It was strong enough for the dream to instantly morph to match it. The atmosphere was suddenly quite cold. Snow blew from all around, settling around his legs up to his knees. He shivered and conjured a coat for himself, wondering what was happening in Anaisa’s mind to prompt this.

In one of her last dreams, she’d told him ‘cold is lonely.’ Was the symbolism continuing? But if so, why would it begin only after she seemed to realize she was having a dream?

The blizzard was so dense he lost sight of her, and alarm grew in his belly.

“Anaisa??” He yelled into the white, trying to sense where she was. The dreamer was the focal point of nearly every dream, located most often in the center. And yet, he could not see her. Large drifts of snow piled up around him, making cold, icy walls that began to feel like a maze.

“Where are you? Please stop the snow!” He called. To his relief, the blizzard died down and the last of the flakes settled to the ground. Yet, he still couldn’t see his wife. “Hello?”

An icy ball of fluff exploded against the back of his head, and he whirled, shocked as giggles reverberated around him, echoing off the snowy walls.

“What the–” He began, when another snowball hit him in the face. “You–!”

He knelt down, scooping two handfuls of snow into a ball and hurling it towards Anaisa, who peeked at him over a wall. She ducked down behind it and then popped back up, grinning as she escaped unscathed.

Trace raised his eyebrows at her. “Really?”

“My dream, my fun!” She taunted, as she pointed behind him. Confused, he turned just as another snowball plopped against his cheek from behind.

“That’s it!” He cried as Anaisa exploded into laughter. He ran towards her, raising his hand to dismiss her defensive wall of snow and ice. She gasped and turned to run away from him, her laughter coming in short bursts of giggles as she panted with the exertion.

He scooped up some more snow and pressed it into a tight ball, throwing it at her back. She glanced over her shoulder and blew at it, shattering the ball before it could reach her. Several snowballs flew at him from all sides, and he struggled to evade them.

“You won’t catch me, it’s my dream!” She turned in a sing-songy dance.

“You’re very pleased with yourself, but I’ve been controlling dreams much longer than you have,” He called, sprinting towards her. The ground gave way beneath him, and he fell into a pit with a pillowy, snowy bottom that puffed up around him like a mouse falling into a dusty old pail and trying to scamper out.

He coughed, and her laughter tinkled on the breeze.

“Are you done now?” He raised an eyebrow as she peeked down at him over the side of the hole she’d created.

“Perhaps. It did take me a while to map all this out.” She admitted sheepishly, and he gaped.

“That’s what you were drawing and burning? Plans to throw snowballs at me and dump me into a hole made of ice?” He shook his head as she chortled.

“This has been every bit as satisfying as I imagined it would be,” She sighed. “I only wish I’d had time to make it more elaborate for you.”

“What you’re saying is, you’re all out of traps?” He asked innocently.

“I thought of making a cliff…” Anaisa teased, reaching her hand down towards him. He smiled. The gesture was unnecessary since he could simply jump out of the hole he was currently in, but he took it and let her help pull him out of the snowy trap.

“Then… I think it’s my turn,” He grinned as a half dozen snowballs formed and flew at his wife.