Book One: Dreamwilled Academy

Chapter One-

Often I have dreams of a smiling face, his eyes so welcoming and kind. Yet I don’t trust him.

Each night the face became more and more distorted and blurred. I have been having these dreams since I was six.

I am now sixteen.

The face, it is just a smudge. I cannot make any face features anymore, only a big, blurry smudge. Now that ten years have passed, I remember nothing of the face. I only remember it was smiling.

Sometimes if I woke up I would try to sketch the face. But you can imagine how great the sketching skills of a kid would be.

I am so used to seeing the face, I’m not frightened. But one night that changed.

I was tossing and turning in my sleep, rain and thunder roaring outside. Suddenly I saw the face again in my dreams.

Except it was clear.

Not smudged or blurred or distorted one bit. I was afraid; for so long it had been unrecognisable. Now I could see it perfectly.

The skin was pale, old even. But his eyes told a different story. It was so full of life. But the colour? That was what was creepy. The left eye was a normal, everyday blue. But the right eye, oh, what a strange and wonderful and frightening sight, even if it was only in my dreams. The eye was bright violet, swimming with darker and lighter shades of purple. A strange decoration, like vines of ivy or something was climbing around the iris.

What did it mean? What did all my dreams mean, and now this sudden dream? So clear and perfect…

My eyes shot open.

When I get up the first thing I’m supposed to see is my wardrobe with and my art awards hanging beside it. I also see photos of me as a little girl – they bring back memories.

But instead of seeing my wardrobe and my awards and my photos, I saw a dark figure.

A hand muffled my shrill scream, and the face that belonged to the figure was revealed out of the shadows.

“Don’t be afraid,” he said.

I gasped as I saw that familiar face, the one with the pale skin. The purple and blue eyes.

The ivy pattern.

He took his hand back and I grabbed the nearest weapon; my glass of water on my bedside table.

“How did you get in here? Get out!” My voice trembled with fear. This man had come into my bedroom. INSIDE my house.

I sat up higher and heaved the the empty glass at him with all my might. He flicked his head to the left. The glass swerved to the left and broke into a million pieces with a loud crash.

I gulped.

That was not normal. He didn’t even touch the the glass, yet it flew in a completely different direction after he flicked his head.

“Destiny, please don’t be afraid. Even call your father up here,” he said.

I didn’t respond. “How do you know my name? Tell me your name,” I said quietly.

“My name is Legacy. I think your father will know me very well.”

“Huh. Well, we’ll see about that. DAD?” I yelled at the top of my voice. A few seconds later I heard the squeak of floorboards getting louder and louder. The door burst open and my dad clicked the light on. It blinded me for a few seconds, then dimmed.

“What is it, Desti-? Legacy? She wasn’t supposed to go until she was eighteen!” my dad said, confused, with a hint of anger in his voice.

“What are you talking about? Go? Go where? Dad, who is this man?” I was really puzzled.

“I’m sorry, Tim, but look at the back of her hand,” Legacy said.

Tim. He knew my dad’s name.

Dad walked over to me with those small, worried eyes of his. He had a big bald spot, black and grey hair and a thin mouth. Dad examined the back of my hand and uttered a little gasp, something he never does.

“It can’t be…”

I looked at my hand and gasped, too. The swirly ivy patterns were all over the back of my hand. It was a golden colour and seemed to glow a very pale blue from underneath. I touched it softly; it was warm, and the pattern wasn’t just paint or anything – you could feel it, trace it.

“Dad… what’s going on?” I asked, looking up at my dad.

“The dream veins weren’t supposed to appear until your eighteenth birthday. Tell me, Destiny, did you dream of Legacy tonight?”

That sounded so weird. But I nodded.

Vance shrugged. “I guess she is more powerful than others. She’ll have to go in a special class.”

“Dad, PLEASE, just tell me what is going on,” I cried.

“Okay,” he said, sitting down on the bed. “Back when I was eighteen, I had a clear dream of a young, beautiful girl. I woke up, and I saw her in my room.

“She took me to a group called the Dreamwilled. They had an academy, too. Dreamwilled Academy.

“The girl, her name was Maria. Your mother. I was told Dreamwilled was a place for the special, the ones who are… different. The ones who had unnatural gifts or powers.

“I trained at Dreamwilled until I was twenty. They never told me what I was training for, though, now I think of it, I didn’t ask. Then I went on adventures with monsters and other unnatural things. The Dreamwilled are the ones who keep our world safe, to protect the normal people who don’t know a thing about us.

“When you are ready to go there, the Mark will appear somewhere on you. Mine appeared somewhere I’d rather not show you.

“But Legacy here told me the Mark would appear when you were eighteen. You’re only sixteen. Sixteen, for goodness’ sakes! But you have to go – you won’t be seeing me for a while.”

I wrapped him in my arms tightly, knowing I would see him years from now.

“Dad… are you sure?” I whispered, though wasn’t sure what I meant.

“Yes, dear Dessie, I’m sure. You better start packing,” he said sadly.

I nodded reluctantly and found my suitcase. Legacy and Dad went downstairs to talk. Then, after sifting through my junk, I found all I needed. Clothing changes, toiletries, a pack of Doritos chips (just in case), my music and books, art books plus supplies and a photo of my mum and dad. I looked at it for a long time, then kissed it and put it in my safe pocket.

Sighing, I dressed out of my pyjamas, trudged out of my bedroom turning off the light and carried my suitcase downstairs. It felt like it weighed a million tonnes.

I couldn’t make out what Legacy and Dad were saying, but as I appeared they stopped. Dad bent down to kiss me and searched through a bunch of junk. He pulled out something.

“Here. Before your mother died, she wanted you to have this when the time was right. I think the time is now,” Dad said, placing a golden dagger etched with sapphires into my hands. I hugged him, tears rolling down my cheeks.

“I love you, Dad,” I said between sobs.

Dad squeezed me tighter and replied, “I love you, too, Dessie.”

He wiped my tears away and I followed Legacy out the door. As I stepped out, rain drumming my head, I took probably my last glance at Dad and then turned around, facing the cold, dark night. I heard the door shut and followed Legacy with the bright beam of his torch down the street. No cars or people were about.

The freezing rain soaked me in seconds and my teeth chattered like it had never before. Legacy walked with long, fast strides. I struggled to keep up and ended up jogging beside him.

“Oi, Legacy,” I said.

Legacy gave me a dirty look and said, “Yeah? By the way, I don’t appreciate urban talk.”

“Urban talk? Anyway, where exactly are we going? I don’t appreciate following a stranger in the night when it’s raining,” I said loudly, over the loud noise of the rain.

“We’re going to the local launch spot. It’s a secret place and it’s where everyone within ten miles of it who’s going to Dreamwilled has to go there. There we ride our next transport to Dreamwilled,” Legacy said matter-of-factly, continuing to walk fast.

“Our next transport?”

“You’ll see,” he said, grinning.

I had a bad feeling about the “next transport”. Also I wished I had put on a jacket and jeans instead of a singlet, shorts and non-waterproof boots.

After what seemed like hours of walking in almost pitch black, we arrived at a huge warehouse after walking down a deserted alleyway. And when I say huge, I mean huge.

It was about two hundred metres high and the door was heavily locked and bolted. A single bright light shone from a wall of the warehouse. The other people crowded around the warehouse had their torches switched off, and Legacy did the same.

So many different varieties, shapes, sizes, and clothes. DEFINITELY clothes. Your clothes told lots about you. I frowned with jealousy with the people with umbrellas.

And then, as the warehouse’s door was being opened, I screamed.

-to be continued

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