NIGHT VISION

by Paula

You can go as far as you dream, think and imagine.

~ Lailah Gifty Akita

A strong wind blew back his long, golden hair as he stood leaning against a rock wall, looking ahead with thoughtful eyes. His hands were clenched into fists, and his mouth was twisted with sadness.

As a child, Vincent always enjoyed playing in the Chamber of the Winds and coming to Narcissa. He was fascinated by her mysteriousness and the power he felt after crossing the thresholds of her chamber. During these visits, he would watch her as she prepared various infusions, scattered shells, or peeked into the water pot, seeing wonders there that his eyesight had missed.

Now the young man was approaching thirty, and today was one of those days in which he found it hard to contain his sadness and longing for the life he would never have.

Another joining ceremony was beyond his strength. His eyes had seen too many such celebrations. He always sincerely enjoyed this important moment for his friends; chasing away the depressing thoughts, not listening to the voice that tormented him with the words you will always be alone. He shook his head in an effort to dispel the ever-repeating whisper.

The memory of when he stood here weeping after his brother’s escape popped into his mind. He closed his eyes, still unreconciled to his absence. And it was here that he sometimes came, longing for Lisa. His despairing sigh echoed through the windy surroundings. When this beautiful girl lived Below, he thought she might love him. How ridiculous that was. He lowered his head, completely resigned.

Some of his friends had left the tunnels and made a life for themselves Above…and he knew he would be left here surrounded by so many people but really alone. Why do I still allow myself to dream? Why does hope creep into my heart, wreaking such havoc? Years fly by and nothing changes. He raised his head with his eyes firmly closed. And nothing will change…

With slow, careful steps, he walked down tunnels, corridors, heading for the place where a secretive woman lived from whom he might hear words of comfort. But are there any such words?

In this walk through darkened hallways, he sought solace, and from this unplanned visit, he expected a miracle. So many contradictions inside me. Hope and doubt. Dreams and cruel reality. He passed turn after turn with his shoulders slumped, casting a sad glance at the sandy ground.

The dark surroundings were illuminated by a streak of light beaming from a nearby entrance. Plunged into reverie, he did not notice that he had already reached his destination. He stopped, taking a few deep breaths, and timidly looked into the candlelit chamber.

A mysterious figure stood in a corner, wearing a brown headscarf; white earrings in the shape of the new moon dangled from her ears. She searched for something in a bulky basket.

The visitor didn’t even manage to say a single word, but the elderly woman greeted him as soon as his head appeared at the entrance. “Hello, Vincent!”

His smile was soft. “Narcissa, I came to see how you are feeling.”

Her sightless eyes looked at his face. He was the picture of gloom. Through the haze, she saw the sadness in his eyes, heard it in his voice; even his shy smile looked grim. Discouragement, melancholy, resignation — they emanated all around, striking immediately at her heart. He cried out for help, though his mouth was silent at the moment.

“Thank you for coming, my boy, but that’s not the only thing that brings you to the crazy old woman.”

She carried a tray toward him and scattered several shells on it. They arranged themselves in a pattern that was not clear to him, but her eyes studied the mosaic for a few moments.He bowed his head, amazed; for an instant he had forgotten about her abilities.

“I have never thought that you are crazy.” His mind was trying to figure out the swirls created on the tray.

She laughed briefly, still focused on the puzzling arrangement.

A shiver ran along his spine. “Do you see anything wrong?” He squinted, convinced she could see his lonely life there, from this moment until he took his last breath.

The tunnel shaman shook her head. “Nothing wrong – only hope.”

Her smile was comforting. He sighed with relief. I don’t think I could bear bad news. He rubbed his tired eyes. And there is hope. I couldn’t get rid of it, even when I tried; it always accompanies me.

For a while, the sizzle of burning candles could be heard, something was cooking, and the wind blowing in the distance accompanied this unprecedented music.

Narcissa watched her guest. His forehead was furrowed as he stared at the tray, clasped and opened his hands; with his breathing growing heavier he waited for words to give solace. She could not let him be stuck in this depressed state. My child needs a little support. “How can I help you?”

This simple question made him hide his face behind his hair. “It’s impossible to help in this case.”

“You came here because hope is still smoldering in you.”

He glanced at her shyly, and she saw a pale light whose flame needed to be sustained.

She tilted her head to the side. “Dear child, there are no such things that cannot be solved in some way.”

His gaze was thoughtful. “Yes, but…if such a fate is written for someone…” The corners of his eyes became moist.

Her hand touched his arm. “What fate?”

He looked at the sandy ground. “Alone, without love, children of my own.” Whispered heart’s desire, made his cheeks blush softly.

“Ah.”

A gentle smile again appeared on her face as she watched him surreptitiously.

Her hand stroked his rosy cheek. “Boy, never stop dreaming and believing.”

Vincent closed his eyes and shook his head. “Not everything can come true. I no longer allow myself to dream.” He started staring at her unique pendant, made of round, white stones.

She furrowed her eyebrows and raised her index finger, revealing a bracelet, similar to the necklace. “Some things are deep in your head and heart! You have to start believing!”

Now, the wristband became a very intriguing object for him. A heavy sigh echoed all around. “Yes…”

A word of acquiescence did not make him believe immediately, but it was a prelude to the process of opening up to things that seemed impossible.

Narcissa stroked his hand and moved away toward a heavily used bookcase. “Do you sleep well?” In the meantime, she was handling the pots; the sound of more containers being opened and products being transferred reached his ears.

Vincent approached the table and began to touch the colored crystals lying in the basket. He held one large transparent stone in his hand when he noticed inside it his hand holding a necklace with a beautiful crystal in it. He blinked twice, but the image disappeared. He shook his head over the recent vision and put the crystal carefully back in place. I guess I’m more tired than I thought.

The old woman watched his actions, her lips twisted in a smile. Here we go.

Her visitor turned toward her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t answer your question. I sleep well enough.” Lying in bed for hours, staring at the stony surroundings and imagining his life in a completely different way, he left for himself.

Narcissa finally finished stirring the herbs, poured boiling water over them, and set them aside in a cool place where there must have been a draft, because the steam from above the cup escaped to the sides.

At this time, her guest sat down in a spacious chair. So far from the home tunnels and yet he felt comfortable here. The atmosphere of the place worked soothingly. This is some good magic.

The slightly chilled brew mysteriously appeared before his eyes, the delicate aroma already reaching his nose.

The confidante of his secret leaned toward him. “It will help you sleep peacefully.” Her words encouraged him to give it a try.

His hands embraced the mug, feeling that she knows everything he is up against. After wetting his lips, he found that he liked the wonderful mixture.  “Hmm, tasty, thank you.”

Narcissa nodded. “That’s good, good, drink to the bottom.”

After minutes of savoring, he felt a soothing warmth and immersion. He hid a yawn behind his hand. “I think this drink is starting to work.” Another yawn interrupted his words. He was beginning to feel the heaviness of his eyelids. “I’ll go now, a long way ahead of me.”

She was already busy preparing another brew; she turned around to his side. “Remember, Vincent, never give up on your dreams. Sometimes it takes more time to fulfill them.”

He wanted to believe these beautiful words, but in his heart he still doubted their power. “Thank you for the herbal tea and words of consolation. I’ll visit you soon.”

Narcissa focused on adding herbs. “Sleep well, my boy”

“Good night.” He walked away from her, calm and composed. You understand me perfectly, you see more than others, and I should trust your words.

As his figure moved away from the chamber, Narcissa laughed briefly as she poured the aromatic mixture for herself. “Someone eventually has to help you believe, and then you will find the courage and see that dreams do come true, even the most difficult ones.”

The way back home took him longer than he’d expected. He felt such blissful weariness; a wonderful, soothing sleep tempted him to rest. His eyelids became heavier. Occasionally he clambered up a rock wall as his legs grew tired.  There was concern that he would lie down in the nearest rock alcove rather than in his wide bed. However, he reached his place and lay comfortably on his back. Throwing a blanket over himself, he drifted off into dreamland…

He was walking in the park at night, and suddenly he noticed a body lying on the grass. He was terrified as he leaned over the figure.

There was a flash that transported him to his own chamber; everything was blurry, as if the candlelight did not give off a glow. Someone was lying in his bed. He felt compassion and an unusual awakening bond with this person as he tried to break through the fog…darkness came.

He was now on some kind of balcony, the sounds of the city could be heard in the background; a soft voice read to him, and he felt gratitude and joy like never before….

When he opened his eyes, there was semi-darkness all around, with only the light of two candles adding to the coziness of the surroundings. He felt within himself a beckoning invitation to continue his sleepy wanderings; he accepted it without resistance and his tired eyes closed again.

He walked through the tunnels with a figure with indistinct outlines, felt the warmth of a small hand, the subtle touch of delicate lips. After a while they lay in the Chamber of the Falls; the sound of water had a soothing effect.

With the speed of light he moved to the Music Chamber, where he felt great joy mixed with desire in the pouring rain. Shades of gray surrounded him, nothing had a shape anymore, but after a while he broke through that mist and among a few lit candles he saw himself dancing with a blurry figure in the Great Hall, feeling the beating of connected hearts.

Vincent woke up again with his heart beating hard. He breathed slowly, wanting to calm his body. These were such suggestive dreams; it’s probably because of my confusion.  Drowsiness once again pulled him into its snares. He covered himself tighter with the blanket, surrendering to what might come.

There was darkness and an ominous, prolonged silence. He heard his roar, felt anger and rage, madness over which he had no control. He was fighting some kind of battle. Suddenly he heard the words: together, everything, courage, love, deserve…

He seemed to glide and saw a light, bright, blinding. This time the silence was blissful.

He heard some music.  There were many candles around him. Father’s voice, speaking of love, connection, happiness, pierced through this fog. After a while, shouts of joy from the gathered people…

He was filled with a love so great that he thought his heart would burst. He saw the stars, all the colors of the rainbow, the world was spinning. Finally, the perfect baby’s cries echoed around him, shifting to quiet gasps as he took him in his arms.

His eyes opened cautiously. Doubt fought against hope. Still stunned by dreams, he tried to regain rational thinking. I want so much to have courage and believe so that… He sighed…it comes true. The dreamer closed his eyes, as if this gesture would make it happen.

Far from the home tunnels, a mysterious figure sat in a rocking chair in a dimly lit chamber. Petals of white and red roses drifted in a bowl of water.

“Now all you have to do is hold onto that hope and faith and don’t lose your courage, my special boy.” She laughed softly and with her eyes closed, swayed to the rhythm of the hummed lullaby…