Ascent

Header image by Dirk Beyer under Creative Commons 3.0.

Last night had an eventful dream. Life is busy right now, but I’ll do my best to remember. Perhaps it was a series of dream fragments again.

The first I remember, I was on a boat. A luxurious boat, I might add. It was almost like a house. It was definitely laid out like one, and my family were sitting in the equivalents of their rooms. Sitting around, cruising through the open sea on a luxury boat. It would have been better if the boat didn’t come under attack. Every so often, a three-dimensional target lock crosshair would appear in a random position on the boat. I saw nothing, but it was obvious that whatever was targeting us was hitting. The boat would shake and tilt on every detonation. I couldn’t see any physical damage either. Regardless, I simply accepted the boat was going to sink.

I don’t remember how, but it survived the trip. I don’t know if it was the boat itself or just a similar house, but we were in a near-identical house in land. Several new people were now milling around the place and its new garden. They must have known some of of family. I didn’t know them, that’s for sure. I grew bored of simply walking around a house. I left for my next destination via a path I no longer remember. I knew this next place was a tower. I would later climb the stairs to the very top, watch things firsthand. The beginning was a search, one I’d organised myself. I still took part though. We were looking for people and beings that hadn’t been found in a long time, some of them no longer living, their souls inhabiting inanimate objects, some sleeping under the ground waiting for awakening. I saw it. I don’t remember what it looked like, but it rose from its golden tomb and stood far above us. It demonstrated what it could do. Luckily this wasn’t a task for me. I was only here through dual perspective. The real me was in the tower, searching for the lost soul of a departed human. One I didn’t know, but I continued. I found them. I don’t know how, but I know he wanted me to put him back where he was hiding. It’s easy to hide inanimate objects, so I complied.

I spent the next 10 minutes wandering through the tower. Perhaps I had something to do near the top. But I remember what it was like near the top of the tower. The light here was all artificial as opposed to the lower floors’ natural sunlight. There were filing cabinets on either side of the wall in one corridor while the main area had a door leading to what looked like a labratory. The lights were off, though. The room was nearly empty. Whether I found something or not, I know I’d finished. I checked downstairs one more time and came back up to finish. There was also something else happening in this tower, it seemed. There were Olympic swimmers and athletes receiving some sort of award while a camera nearby broadcasted the event to the world. My event finished in a much more low-key fashion. Just a very brief speech, some refreshments, and that was it.

Having finished whatever I was doing, I walked up the stairs. Upwards until I reached the very top. What I saw surprised me; the very top floor was back to natural light. The corridor here was much busier than anywhere near the tower. I walked to the right to see what I could find; a woman stopped me and said something to me. She clearly knew I was unfamiliar with this place. I knew she lived and/or worked here. She led me through the corridor and outside. As it turned out, the top of this tower was built into a mountain range. I could see the distant peaks of the outside, even past the top of the building at the top. Outside here, there was an upward grassy area closed in by the corridors of either side of the building. There were small children playing and resting on the hilly ascent. A mountain range nursery. Who would have thought? She led me right through this area, briefly stopping to say hi to the people running this nursery.

Through the next building, another mountainous area. It was so much bigger then the nursery. It was an open mountainside covered in grass, a continuous ascent with only vaguely defined rock walls on either side of the open area. The woman leading me climbed it all with ease. I looked up and I saw that her house was at the very top of the mountain. I could vaguely make her out. She motioned at me to climb the rest of the mountain and walked into her house. I remember telling her that I found the mountain climbing to be pretty fun and that I was okay with all of it. I began climbing and it was definitely fun. I would probably make it in the next half hour.

I was halfway before I switched perspective to the person I’d seen recoil in terror from the undead in the golden tomb. As him, I climbed. Here I was again, the final stretch before the top of the mountain. The sun was setting now and the stars were starting to appear as the sky darkened from orange to purple. I could see the woman my other perspective had met in the afternoon. Not that I knew that as this person, though. She was leaning on the wooden railing on the outside of her house, only partially covered by the overhanging roof. She was likely looking up at the stars. Perhaps this was something she did every day. It was simply a guess on (my?) part. My current perspective had more trouble climbing the mountains, but I managed to climb half the hill before finding a flat area. There was what looked like part of a shallow underpass built into the hill. It didn’t make much sense. It was like somebody had just stuck this in here with no thought whatsoever. In the underpass I was confronted by a man I’d never seen before. He told me that the woman at the top of the house didn’t need any unwanted visitors and that she was stargazing and likely busy. At that point I switched perspectives to my real self. I later learnt my alternate perspective had killed the man. It wasn’t me who did it but I still wished that hadn’t happened. All I remember was that I was in the house at the time. But I’m not sure if I had enough time to see what it looked like. I’m not even sure what the woman was doing in the first place.

 

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