Red Twilight the Weaver chapter 11

Chapter 11:

Dreams and Dreaming

After eating: Mint, Salt, and Pepper go outside to play. The land around Jessica's house is firm yet in some spots spongy. A dark glowing green moss covers the east side of most of the trees. Playfully Mint tugs Peppers tail; she is about to speak when something catches her eye. Just as Pepper is about to ask Mint what she wants Mint jumps forth and points "Look, what is that?"

A large mound of red clay is pilled ten inches high nestled between two trees. Garlic bits one of her fingers looking at it "looks odd."

Pepper goes wide-eyed "I bet there is something hidden under there. why else would the ground be turned up like that?"

Mint nods as she squeezes her fist shut "let's find out!" she and Pepper get down on all fours running at the strange clay.

Salt reaches out for them "what! Is that wise?"

A red misty phantom flashes between them gripping the recluse children by the scruffs. Jessica then forms from the mist "it certainly is not." She pushes the young behind her "watch." She pulls a fish from her satchel then throws it at the sand. An army of long-tailed, six lagged monsters crawl out and attack the fish "we call them Fire Crawlers."

Salt and garlic tug at the Weavers robe hiding, Pepper wraps his arms around her from in front burying his face in her breast. Jessica places her hand on the boy's head "they are the thing nightmares are made of." She rubs her hand comfortingly down the children petting them down. "this is a nasty part of the woods, let us go elsewhere."

Jessica leads them to a field of berries. Mint looks up to the old and wise mouse mother

"Jessica, do you dream?"

"…Of untold lives past my sweet lady."

Mint grips Jessica by the hand "I dream of the future, and a time when I will fill my mother's rule in the community."

Jessica brushes her thumb up and down the back of her hand "when I was young so did I."

Salt looks to Jessica "so, what are dreams?"

"A strange and powerful magic left over from the time of our father's fathers. Windows to the past and the future, a world between worlds, even the oldest and wisest of us cannot say without a doubt."

** *

James waves to his band-mates as they make their way out the door of the warehouse he calls home, The quintet of the teenage-punker-girls wave as they make off for their Independent destinations leaving the lone raven-haired Asian to his own devices. James rubs his eyes as he makes his way down the long museum-esque chambers of his flat, back towards the finest in the corner he calls his room.

James' room is a tiny alcove filled with a bed, T.V., and a V.C.R. That looks old and rusted-out enough to be amongst the rest of the antiques bared around this building. He shuffles about the stack of VHS tapes pulling out an entourage of concert tapes as to study their prominences, starting with Dick Dale, then moving on to Hermon Li with various other Rock&roll legends such as Daisuke Ishiwatari, and Nobuo Uematsu. He sits hard in his chair studying harshly the moves and techniques of the greatest-of-the-greats searching for the sources of their godlike powers, as it would seem. Guitar in hand, James watches each tape with diligence until he can no longer work.

In his dreams alone truck speeds through an endless desert, walls of dirt and sand chasing thereafter. Strange alien Rock formations begin to manifest in its wake. Followed only shortly thereafter by worms, a hundred feet long jumping in and out of the sands like dolphins. The sounds of a piano seemed to carry in the wind almost as if in a Techno jam. James climbed out the window of the truck and atop the roof dressed in his most elegant goth attire, a red mesh shirt, leather, chaps, boots and biker gloves with matching sunglasses. Balancing atop the roof, he folds his hands as to grab his guitar and it indeed appears.

James spends only a moment tuning his instrument before laying down a powerful cord and pyrotechnics explode around him; the truck becomes a stage on wheels, himself standing behind every instrument, two guitars, drum, and a microphone. The skies darken as rain begins to pour. One jumping worm becomes aggravated and flies at the truck in hopes of swallowing it in one bite.

But the power of Metal would not let it be, the gods of music send a dome of lighting to fend off the monster. The storm becomes more intense until at-last becoming a solid-mass and the stage is floating in a bubble.

Schools of merfolk gather to worship the band. Cries and cheers of awe and adoration of the strange and magical melodies they produce fill the waters. But it would seem love-stricken mermaids are not the only things in the water as from the depths an angler fish the size of a house charges into sight, the fish shows off its maw full of teeth as it threatens the band. The James at the Microphone sets one foot on a speaker that seemingly wills itself into existences and points making a sound that is no word, simply a sustaining vibration. The ray of sound slings deep into the fish's body and it swells bloats and enlarges to critical mass popping like a balloon.

The merfolk cheer and run up against the stage in hopes of touching their saviors, but it seems the gods of music have other plans as the stage grows wings and becomes a dragon bursting from the oceans. A large, sleek female, three horns as is traditional for alpha females of the breed, with a coat of shimmering steel and golden plates.

A flock of other dragons swarm around dancing, examining the newcomers, Playing with them and flying under and over and roundabout in colorful patterns, This beast at least twice the size of any other. There is no rest though, as an armed group of flying snakes appears with skeletal riders. The two James' with guitars begin a dueling solo and the dragons form ranks. Fire, ice, and acid tsunami within the firework-like display of Draconic power ending the battle in nothing more than moments.

The dragon the band rides fly into space to greet the serpent goddess, 'Chaos', watches them joyously for a moment, the wurm large as a planet whisper not a word but smirks lustfully. The detour lasts not but a second before the band becomes a swarm of meteors to burrow through the earth and into an upside-down world hidden thereunder.

An army awaits them when they arrive: An army of were-rats, wolves, and demons. Giant stone pillars hold them in place, as a lone monster approaches armed with a set of drumsticks. The demon swings his arms like a monkey and a band of imps join in as he produces his band to duel their music.

The bands square-off to a dredge of emo-Rock versus the power of opera-Rock/ speed-metal. The evil drummer pounds his base knocking the four James' off their feet. The James' on lead guitar is the first upright as he kick-flips up and lies down a scale of notes to rally his team. The other guitarist cartwheels and joins in. The guitarists tap their necks together, and a wave of pure light shatters the air. The singer picks up his glasses, and as he put them on, he throws his fist in the air, and the armies recede slightly entranced by the sheer power being displayed.

The Demons snarl and redouble their efforts. The demonic guitarist summons up a brutal riff, salt and burning Rock fall from the sky. The James' on the drums quickly whips up a cool bet to counter-attack. The earth rips open and the legions of other worlds pour in. The were-beast turncoat and mass chaos ensued.

The demons try to retake the stage with a hypnotic rhythm but it's too late. The Fates have spoken, this battle goes to earth's champion. The demon searches as he is overrun and the ritualistic shattering of weapons is performed as statues topple.

The netherworld melts away to the desert from which the journey began, but now it's a grassy plains and scores of adoring fans fill almost every inch in sight. From a dozen worlds, they gather in praise. What once was foe is now friend and all is good by the power of the metal. As their song draws to a close, a holy light fills the stage and the band is drawn into heaven. To be given immortality? For another adventure? Only the Fates know.

James is slingshotted back to reality by something smashing into the steel shutters on his house and can think of nothing to describe his dream but "Wow."

Book 2

The Weaver