Prologue - Planet Dulon

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The planet Dulon orbited within the Sirius Alpha Canis Major system. The elliptical system contained two moons, and its distance from Earth was a mere nine galactic light-years away. Life prospered for the resourceful species called the Eirdula, and their population grew rapidly. After 8,000 years of technological advances, they appeared to be magical beings. However, with greater breakthroughs came heightened destruction and hostility. For the next 1,000 years, the Eirdula struggled, and staggering numbers of lives and vegetation were lost. New diseases emerged and spread, and food and water lost their nutrition, sometimes even turning poisonous. Self-indulgence and self-righteousness proliferated until the species careened out of control. The planet Dulon grew closer to becoming inhospitable and unable to sustain itself.

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Eventually, judgment from the Great Creator descended upon the yellow and blue planet. The ultimatum from the creator of all galaxies was simple: either change or perish. The ruling was a consequence of Eirdula’s actions. Then, there was the matter of atonement. The Eirdula needed to make amends for their ways, to select another planet heading toward the same fate. After considerable contemplation and consultation with Dulon’s highest intelligence, Eirdula cleansed their planet and formed a better relationship with one another. They discovered that clear communication was the key to success. Necessity increased maturity and humbleness, and servitude became a prized custom. By the third pass of their golden star, a complicated social, political, and economic structure had developed, turning Eirdula into a compassionate race.

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One of their redemptive tasks was the formation of a team meant to save Earth's lifeforms. After months of deliberation, the wisest Eirdulas organized a squad approved by the Great Creator. The squad's mission was to raise humans' need for hope and dreams, as the Eirdula had learned that a lack of hope led to indifference, uncircumspect thinking, and disregard. The team contained 107 guardians sent to protect the dreams of Earthlings, both human and animal alike. The troop was then divided into sub-teams, known as Dream Guardians. In their dreams, humans recognized them as fairies, Pegasus, sprites, and anthropomorphized animals.

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1 – Planet Earth, Buffalo, New York. Wednesday, September 27

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Asima descended into Callie’s bedroom, her wings pushed against the air to slow her landing.

Rosalie, a Dream Guardian in training, and Callie’s tuxedo-colored cat, Louis, both acknowledged her with a nod.

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Lightning split the night, and thunder rumbled outside.

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“It's her third nightmare this week,” Rosalie reported.

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Asima disliked the foul imaginings, especially those that were demons. She handled the hard cases: children invaded by Level Three or Four nightmares, those that were high-intensity, and those that were outright demons. She also worked on her graduation project, which would help secure her desired position in the Special Forces. Her project was to investigate whether true love existed between couples on Earth or if it was merely a fantasy. Beyond her personal reasons, she knew the answer would help Eirdula. They had to make a difference for Earth, or the Great Creator would destroy their planet.

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Callie’s eyes flickered under closed lids as she mumbled in her sleep. Her body writhed with distress as her breathing quickened. “I don’t want to move, Daddy.”

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Asima looked around the room, noting the animal posters on the walls and an open laptop on a desk. “Stand back,” she said to Rosalie. This was Asima’s third dream-demon cleansing tonight, and she was weary. “Watch for now.”

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Rosalie stepped back. “I wouldn’t have called you, but this nightmare is beyond a Level Two.”

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Asima tensed. “You’re right to be careful. Nightmares of this level can harm Dream Guardians. Fighting them also means the dreamer could wake and see us, which we must avoid.” She didn’t add that nightmares could also cause gruesome trauma.

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“Isn’t it good if a dreamer wakes, though? I mean, we can use our invisible cloak.”

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Asima’s eyes shifted from Rosalie to Callie. “The invisible cloak isn’t easy to use with these level nightmares.”

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Rosalie had brought Callie’s case to Asima’s attention a few weeks ago. The girl had started seventh grade at a new school after moving to Buffalo. Asima learned that Callie had an abusive mother, and the situation resonated deeply. The face of Asima’s own angry father flashed before her mind’s eye. She also recently learned about the bullying Callie received at school. These types of cases always grabbed her attention. If the girl wasn’t helped, she could lose her mind and be an easy target for night demons forevermore.

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Asima sealed the room against the storm outside, a necessary but stifling act.

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A tightness pulled at Asima’s back muscles, like too many cranks on violin strings, and her body grew hot. She’d dealt with several stubborn nightmares already tonight and desperately needed sleep. It seemed like a constant uphill struggle.

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Asima scanned Callie’s body and frowned at a faint, sparkling mist above the girl’s midsection.

A husky voice vibrated from Callie’s body, while a pungent sulfur scent wafted into the room. “You must be a Special Forces Dream Guardian,” said a deep voice.

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Asima’s eyes narrowed, and she patted the knife at her thigh under her skirt, hoping she wouldn’t need it. Special Forces had a series of procedures. The first was to scare the nightmare away with their reputation. The second was to suck the nightmare from the dreamer’s body. The third was to wake the dreamer without them seeing the guardians. The fourth was to cause physical harm to a demon nightmare. With repeated dire threats, the nightmare would be placed inside a liquid sphere and shot into space.

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“The others told me to be wary of you,” the voice said.

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“Leave!” Asima demanded in Draha, the native language of the Eirdula people, from Dulon. Her face darkened, and she swallowed the rising fire in her belly. “Save both of us some time.” Her tone was a deadly threat.

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The nightmare gave a few guttural breaths. “I will leave when I’m ready and not before. Besides, you cannot save this girl. Go back to your planet.”

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Asima scowled. “The other nightmares forgot to inform you what happened to them, especially the defiant ones.”

Sulfurous emissions swirled from the girl’s stomach and, seconds later, blasted toward Asima.

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A dark green head with spidery veins rose from Callie’s chest. Shades of gray and pale slime oozed together and dribbled from the top of the demon’s head.

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Rosalie sucked in a breath, shifted her small frame, and looked at Asima.

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“The others lacked power and attitude,” said the nightmare. “You shall be the one who flees. This girl is mine. She’s ripe for the picking. Her confidence is very low, and my power grows.”

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Louis, the cat, arched his back, hissed, and lifted a foot.

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Asima shook her head at the cat. Although he stopped, he didn’t turn away. She knew she had to keep the nightmare’s strength low, otherwise he could take over Callie’s mind or cause her to destroy herself. Taking her soul would then be easy.

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Asima ignored the entity’s announcement. “So be it,” she stated, flipping her brown hair over her shoulder. Her bones ached from earlier battles, yet the fire within her belly waited for release.

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She willed her strength to hold out and turned her hands in slow circles, building momentum until a four-inch tempest formed beneath them. Matter vibrated, even when not seen. She searched for a specific pulse within her hands and coaxed the energy toward the tips of her fingers. The oscillating force took on a quickening rhythm that soon hammered for release.

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An inside squall began to torment the curtains. They flailed and slapped at the ceiling.

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Thunder rumbled from outdoors, and the house shook.

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Seconds later, Asima concentrated and lifted herself into the air.

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A bucking energy intensified from her back and surged. A flash erupted through the darkness from the powerful but fatigued Special Forces Dream Guardian.

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“Get out of her head!” Asima demanded in a low, deliberate tone. She leveled her stare, and her body began to pulse. “Leave!” she said before shooting miniature twisters toward the nightmare, causing a few hairs to fall from his ears.

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The entity scoffed. He locked eyes with the fairy from another planet. His distorted face marbled to a deep shade of ebony, black as the most hideous sin. “You look tired, fairy. Go take a nap.”

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Asima ignored him, keenly aware of his every move. “The next one will shave off your head,” she said.

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Asima blinked three times and morphed from two inches to a little over five feet. With a flick of her wrist, another funnel roared to life. Her wrist swung wider and faster, swelling a mini tornado and igniting its power. The thrill of learning during training, that she had such skill, had both perplexed and excited her.

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“Watch out!” Rosalie shouted, pointing toward posters detaching from the wall.

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Asima ignored them for the moment.

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Rosalie grabbed a throw-blanket at the foot of Callie’s bed and caught the flying posters and their tacks.

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Asima chanted, and her eyes widened. Before long, her torso glowed. “Thank you, Great Creator,” she whispered.

He had held her planet accountable, and she knew he wanted good for all in the galaxies. She would do her part.

 

The nightmare remained steady, even when the glow spilled from Asima into a blaze of white, and her funnel sped toward him. He yawned. “The girl is not loved.”

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Asima inhaled and pushed aside the niggle in her stomach. “I love her.”

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She hung mid-air, and her hair danced. Six silvery wings at her back blasted outward. Power from her core radiated to every cell of her body and waited for release.

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Louis jumped from the bed and scurried into the closet.

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“Nice display,” said the entity. “It probably scares a few nightmares, but I’m more than imagination.”

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Asima glanced at Callie, then back at the demon. In her most authoritative tone, she said, “I am Asima! Special Forces Dream Guardian of North America. It is the Great Creator who appointed me.” Air swirled from her fingertips, and her body pulsed. “I’m not asking you to leave. I’m telling you to!”

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The synergy of the multiple funnels clashed with one another before joining, creating a vortex in the little bedroom. Clothes flew from a chair and socks from the floor.

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Rosalie grabbed them and then hurried to Callie’s side. She studied Callie to see if she still slept.

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The nightmare’s eyes swept to the window momentarily, then back to the now seething Dream Guardian. “The girl is fading fast. In fact, she is on the precipice of no return. Her mind will be lost, as will her soul. Are you daft enough, you pointy-eared alien, to think I’d allow a heart and soul such as this to pass me by?”

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Asima noticed his glance and aimed the churning funnel toward his throat.

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The nightmare shook his head, sending splashes of ooze whirling toward Asima. “I am not an ordinary dream entity. Are you aware of that? I know there is only so much you can do. The girl is the only one with the power to make me leave.”

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“Are you willing to take that chance?” The black-hearted nightmare spoke the truth, but Asima would never admit that to him. He seemed too highly aware already. She gritted her teeth, deciding he must be a Class Four. She reminded herself that a nightmare couldn’t physically harm children, but they could cause them to harm themselves.

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The nightmare scowled. “Your pathetic attempt is amusing. Shall I show you what I can do if you continue to tempt me?” He revealed a line of saw-like teeth.

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Asima scowled.

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A spider leaped out of Callie’s dream and onto her leg.

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Rosalie flinched, as did her wild hair.

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Asima scowled and collapsed her funnel—which now stretched from the ceiling to the floor—to the size of a bluebird’s wing and sent it toward the girl.

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Rosalie brought forth a frosty wind from her fingers and hurtled the gust toward the arachnid, knocking it to the floor.

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Asima’s funnel made its way to Callie’s cheek and tickled her. Though Asima struggled with the lack of love humans had, she loved her charges.

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Callie giggled.

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Rosalie nodded with eagerness.

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“Yes,” Asima whispered to the struggling girl. “You are loved, Callie. Remember joy. Choose happiness despite the bad.”

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Rosalie watched the funnel move toward Callie’s ear. “Yes, laugh. It’s the best defense against the world’s harshness.”

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Callie rubbed her ear, and Asima hoped she wouldn’t wake.

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The spider retreated, spun, and disappeared.

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Asima let out a breath, and Rosalie did too.

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The tormentor plucked itself from Callie’s body and bolted toward the window. Before he slithered through the pane, he pivoted. “I’ll be back,” he said. “Count on it. And I dare you to take me on in my authentic form.” He hesitated further. “This girl’s troubles run deep, and your speck of victory means nothing.”

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Asima lifted her chin. “And just what is your authentic form, filth?”

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“One you will see if you step inside her dreams. When you do, why not be your authentic self as well?”

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She wrinkled her pointy nose, ignoring the dare. He knew Dream Guardians could perish in a dream if the dreamer woke. “Dream Guardians do not enter dreams,” she said. “It is forbidden to do so.”

His smile twisted to the side of his face, and he whispered a word before charging into the thick gloom of night, “Spider. That is my form.”

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Rain pelted steadily against the window. Asima lowered herself to the floor beside Rosalie, who shook her head.

They both watched Callie, ensuring she remained asleep.

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A shiver ran through Asima. She hated spiders, especially the ones haunting her dreams with her father’s face—a father who never loved her or her mother. She set her jaw. He was the reason for her quest; her drive to learn whether or not true love could exist between females and males.