15. Tix

The dreamworld had its own textures and sensations, unique yet hauntingly familiar.

It was an uncanny realm where your deepest fears took form, and your most treasured memories shimmered like ethereal wisps.

Today, the realm felt more threatening than ever, especially as Grace and I stood before Uhah, the eldest prisoner at Ikmal.

Uhah's silhouette was barely visible beneath the heaving threadbare blanket, which rose and fell with the ragged breathing of someone in great distress.

The space above him was dominated by a swirling mass of dark clouds, thunderbolts zigzagging menacingly.

It was a chilling representation of Uhah's nightmare, a haunting dance of light and darkness.

The sounds emerging from this tempestuous vision were even more troubling: innocent laughter of children transitioning abruptly to horrified screams, intermittent sounds of roaring flames, loud cracking reminiscent of breaking bones or collapsing buildings, and the ominous echo of things crashing down.

I'd ventured into countless dreams, facing specters of fears and phantoms of past mistakes.

Nothing I had ever encountered prepared me for the overwhelming dread exuding from Uhah's nightmare.

"It's intensifying," I remarked, not tearing my eyes away from the sight.

"I've never seen a nightmare this dark," Grace murmured, her voice quivering with a mix of fear and determination.

She squeezed my hand, her fingers cold yet grounding, as we silently shared a mutual understanding.

We had to step in, confront this nightmare, and hopefully quell the storm.

Taking a deep breath, tasting the acrid, electrified air of the dreamworld, I whispered to Grace:

"Ready?"

She nodded, her eyes reflecting the determination I felt burning within me.

And with that shared glance, we stepped forward, allowing the darkness to envelop us, pulling us into the very heart of the nightmare.

The moment our feet landed on "solid" ground, I realized where we were.

The ground beneath us consisted of an elaborate pattern of alternating black and white tiles, seemingly suspended in a void.

Above, below, and all around, fragments of various materials orbited the pathway — wooden planks, shards of colored glass, and even swirling whirlpools of what appeared to be water, all caught in an eternal dance of weightlessness.

Grace's eyes widened as she took in the surreal scene.

She turned to me, her gaze a mixture of awe and curiosity. "Tix… where are we?"

I gave her a small, reassuring smile. "This is one of the fragmented dream realms I've encountered numerous times in my voyages. It's like a protective barrier or defense mechanism for certain dreamers. Think of it as layers of security for a person's deepest, most guarded memories."

She stepped closer to me, wrapping her fingers around my arm, her touch both comforting and grounding amidst the bizarre surroundings. "It's mesmerizing," she murmured, her breath a soft whisper against my ear, carrying the aroma of roses, a sensation that momentarily made me forget our environment.

Shaking my head to refocus, I continued:

"It's more than just beautiful, Grace. Every dream has its own rules and challenges. As far as I understand, there are five levels of defenses in this place."

Grace tilted her head, casting me a curious glance. "How many have you managed to navigate?"

I let out a rueful chuckle, the sound echoing slightly in the vast expanse. "Two. The third one… it's been an enigma. I've never been able to surpass it."

She nodded thoughtfully. "Well, let's see if together we can break that barrier."

We began walking along the monochromatic pathway.

The tiles were cool under our feet, contrasting with the warmth of Grace's hand in mine.

The soft hum of the orbiting fragments created a constant, almost hypnotic, background melody.

The first defense came quickly.

Ahead, the pathway led to an ancient-looking stone gate, standing wide open, flanked by worn yet intricately carved pillars.

The gateway's crown was an imposing stone gargoyle, with its maw open and eyes that seemed to bore right through me.

Memories of my encounters with the gargoyle rushed back. "That, Grace, is the first defense. It may look inert now, but believe me, it's far from that."

She raised an eyebrow, her hand unconsciously finding mine. "What does it do?"

"Well," I began, recalling the intimidating moments I'd faced at this very threshold, "its stone eyes turn real, and it fixes its gaze upon me, paralyzing me in place. Then, in a voice that rumbles like a faraway storm, it posed a riddle."

Grace's grip tightened on my hand. "A riddle?"

A smile tugged at my lips. "The riddle it poses aren't your everyday conundrums. They're deeply introspective, designed to peer into one's soul and challenge the very essence of who you are."

She looked at me, her face illuminated by the ambient glow of the realm, eyes filled with intrigue. "Do you remember the riddle it asked you?"

A sigh escaped me. "I wish I could, Grace. I remember the feelings it invoked, the mental gymnastics I had to undergo to find the answer. I remember the weight of the words, the depth they held. The exact phrasing eludes me."

"I'm beginning to think you're keeping it from me intentionally," she teased.

I chuckled, the sound echoing softly in the void. "It took me five attempts. And each time I got it wrong, the gargoyle would emit this chilling laugh, reverberating through the realm, before sending me right back to the start."

"That sounds… terrifying," Grace admitted. "You eventually got it right?"

I nodded. "Yes, but not without delving deep into my fears, regrets, and sorrows. The riddle was less about intelligence and more about introspection."

Grace seemed lost in thought for a moment. "And the answer?"

Drawing her close, the warmth of her body against mine a comforting sensation amidst the dream's chill, I whispered:

"Guilty."

Her eyes widened in realization. "So, the riddle was about something personal? About a feeling that weighs us down?"

"Exactly. It wasn't about deciphering a tricky set of words but about confronting what haunts us."

Grace leaned her head on my shoulder, taking in the gargoyle's stony visage. "Guilt… It's a powerful emotion. One that can imprison us in our own minds. In a way, it's a perfect answer for a defense mechanism in a dream."

I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "It was a reminder, Grace. No matter how far we venture, no matter what realms we explore, we can't run from our own feelings, our own conscience."

Together, we continued along the pathway, leaving behind the stone gate and its guardian but carrying with us the lessons it had imparted.

* * *

As we continuedour trek on the suspended path, the floating debris and fragments around us started shifting into a more ordered pattern.

Planks of wood, stones, and random scraps converged, locking into place like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, creating walls and structures of a fragmented building around us.

Above, other items hung suspended, some swirling like small planets while others seemed to be part of an intricate machine slowly taking form.

"The dream is reconstructing itself," Grace whispered, her eyes darting around, trying to make sense of the changing environment.

I nodded, my fingers brushing a floating shard of glass, feeling its cold, smooth surface. "The deeper we go, the more personal and intense Uhah's memories become."

Ahead, we spotted another door, much like the first one, but instead of a gargoyle perched atop, there was a grand, ornate grandfather clock stationed beside it.

The clock stood tall and regal, its intricate woodwork glowing softly in the dim light.

However, where one would expect to see the hour and minute hands moving rhythmically, there was nothing but an empty clock face.

"Another puzzle?" Grace asked, her curiosity evident in her sparkling eyes.

I smiled, the memory of my numerous interactions with the clock still fresh in my mind. "Yes. Uhah seems to be a fan of them. The clock face is always blank. Timeless. It took me a while to understand its significance."

Grace tilted her head, inspecting the clock closely. "So, you added the hands?"

Drawing her closer, I directed her gaze to the clock's face. "Not just added, but imagined them into existence. I realized that the clock represented a specific moment in Uhah's life, a moment forever etched in his memory. To move forward, I had to pinpoint that exact moment."

Her fingers brushed the spot where the hands should have been. "How did you figure out the time? It could've been any time of the day."

"True. And that was the challenge. I tried various times initially, visualizing different hands on the clock, but each incorrect attempt would result in a loud gong that echoed painfully in my ears. It was… not a pleasant experience."

Grace winced sympathetically, squeezing my hand. "I can only imagine. You eventually got it right?"

"Eventually, yes. I imagined the hands zipping around the clockface until they finally froze, locking into place. The time they pointed to was—"

"Wait. Let me try."

Grace took a step toward the giant clock, focused, and an hour and minute hand appeared on the clock's blank face.

They turned, slowly at first, before picking up speed and zipping around from one hour to the next, to the next, and the next until finally—

They snapped into place.

The clock emitted a gentle chime, a harmonious sound that felt like relief.

The door beside the clock was suddenly open; one second it was shut and the next it was open.

Grace's eyes widened. "8:32. Any idea what happened at that time?"

I shook my head. "No. But considering its importance, I believe it's a pivotal moment in Uhah's past. Perhaps a memory of love, loss, or a life-altering decision. Memories are powerful, and sometimes, they anchor us, shape us."

She leaned into me, her warm breath tickling my ear as she whispered. "Maybe we'll find out. I'm glad I have you to guide me through this maze of memories."

The warmth of her presence, the sound of her voice — they grounded me.

I planted a gentle kiss on her temple. "Together, we'll face whatever lies ahead."

Drawing a deep breath, I grasped the ornate doorknob.

The door creaked open, revealing the unknown mysteries of the third room.

As we stepped over the threshold, I felt the weight of anticipation.

What challenges lay ahead?

What secrets would we uncover about Uhah's past?

* * *

Stepping into the third room,we were greeted by an even more solid environment.

The fragmented debris that floated above our heads in the prior sections had now been woven into the walls and floors of this chamber.

The dreamworld, with its whimsical nature, seemed to have taken those broken pieces and memories and constructed a surreal representation of Uhah's past.

It felt as though we were stepping into a snapshot of time.

The center of the room was dominated by a round table.

On one side sat a younger version of Uhah, his scales glistening more vibrantly than I remembered, his posture upright and full of vitality.

On the opposite side were two alien creatures, their slimy green skin reflecting the dim light of the room, tentacle-like appendages resting casually on the tabletop.

As Grace and I cautiously approached the tableau, the scene sprang to life.

The three figures began conversing animatedly.

Uhah's eyes darted between the two aliens, his expression a mix of curiosity and caution.

"I… I can't understand them," Grace whispered, a hint of frustration in her voice.

She motioned to the translator embedded in her forearm, the small device remaining silent and unresponsive.

I nodded, recalling I had been equally perplexed the first time I'd heard it.

The conversation before us held the key to understanding Uhah's deepest regrets, but it was unintelligible.

Then my eyes landed on the old-style turntable that sat prominently in the center of the table.

Its black vinyl record spinning but producing no sound.

I reached out, fingers brushing the turntable's switch.

As I toggled it, the record began to rotate in the opposite direction.

Suddenly, the scene rewound, the three figures moving backward in an almost eerie dance.

Then, as the turntable stabilized, their motions corrected, and the conversation played out clearly, the once indecipherable language was now perfectly understandable, thanks to our translators.

"Think about it, Uhah," one of the aliens purred, his voice dripping with faux sweetness. "Our doors are just as effective and a fraction of the cost. Your facility will save a considerable sum."

Uhah frowned, tentatively fingering the samples of the door material laid out before him. "These haven't passed the safety requirements. It's a risk."

The second chuckled, leaning in closer. "A risk, yes, but think of the rewards. We will invoice you for the full amount and no questions will be raised about where the additional credits flow. It could be very… beneficial for you."

The insinuation was clear.

A bribe.

They were offering Uhah a cut of the profits in exchange for compromising the safety of the facility.

An opportunity for personal gain at the cost of potential danger to others.

Grace's grip on my hand tightened, her nails digging slightly into my flesh.

The sharp sensation brought my focus back to the unfolding scene.

Uhah hesitated, his gaze shifting between the two aliens.

The weight of the decision was evident in his eyes.

The younger version of him, perhaps more susceptible to temptations, was clearly grappling with the moral implications of the offer.

The room darkened, and the figures at the table began to blur, the scene dissolving into shadows and echoes.

The turntable slowed to a stop, its purpose served.

Grace and I exchanged glances, the revelations of the scene weighing heavily on us.

"What did he decide?" Grace murmured.

The uncertainty in her voice mirrored my own feelings.

One thing was clear.

This moment, this temptation had left a mark on Uhah, a shadow that haunted him even in his twilight years.

* * *

Grace's brow furrowed,her gaze darting around the confined space. "That's it?" she asked incredulously.

Her tone, a mix of disbelief and confusion, echoed my sentiments.

"I've been here many times," I confessed, the frustration clear in my voice. "This… this room has always stumped me. It's like it's taunting me with its simplicity."

She nodded thoughtfully, her eyes scanning the room for any hint of a clue or direction.

The room seemed to have no purpose.

No challenges or puzzles like the previous ones, just a void with the lingering weight of Uhah's past decision.

"I've tried everything," I continued, racking my brain for some forgotten detail. "Pushing, pulling, imaging… Nothing seems to unlock whatever secret this room is holding."

Grace's fingers traced the edge of the table. "There has to be something. A hint or a clue."

We approached the table once more, hands pressing and probing every inch, searching for a hidden mechanism or button.

The air grew thick with tension as we both focused intently on our task.

A nagging thought tugged at the back of my mind, that the answer might not lie within the room, but in the very core of Uhah's emotions — the guilt, the temptation, the choices made.

Yet, even as the minutes stretched on, the exit remained sealed.

The far-off hum of the guard's routine, an echo from the waking world, sent a shiver down my spine.

The rhythm of boots, the clanging of doors, the distant murmurs… it all signaled the dawn of a new day and the nearing end of our time in this dreamworld.

With every passing second, the pressure mounted.

The weight of my daily life in the pits, the pain, and the constant battle for survival were all creeping back.

More than that, there was an aching worry about how much longer I could keep fighting, keep surviving.

Grace, sensing my distress, placed her hands on my shoulders, pulling me into a comforting embrace.

Our foreheads pressed together; a silent moment shared between two souls navigating an uncertain path.

"We'll figure it out, Tix," she whispered her words a balm to my fraying nerves. "We always do. It's just a matter of time."

Drawing back slightly, she planted a tender kiss on my lips.

It was a gesture full of promise and hope, one that anchored me amidst the storm of uncertainties.

As comforting as the gesture was, a nagging doubt persisted.

The unpredictable nature of the pits, the constant surprise attacks, and unforeseen challenges were taking their toll.

As much as I wanted to believe in our shared resolve, I knew the grim reality of my situation.

There was a ticking clock, and I was running out of time.

Releasing a heavy sigh, I held Grace's hand tightly.

The dim room, with its silent echoes of past decisions, seemed even more confounding now.

"You're right," I murmured, forcing a smile for her sake. "We've faced worse odds, and we've come through. This… this is just another puzzle to solve."

Grace nodded, her determination shining through. "We'll come back. We'll find the answer. Together."

The room began to fade, the boundaries of the dreamworld dissolving as the waking world beckoned.

The last thing I saw was Grace's face, her eyes full of love and unwavering belief in us.

As the dream slipped away, a chilling realization washed over me.

The pits were unpredictable, and dangerous.

And something unexpected was looming on the horizon.

A twist of fate, a turn of events, I couldn't pinpoint it, but a feeling settled deep within my bones.

I was right, and change was coming sooner than I expected…