Pools

I was with a few friends whom I don’t recognize in […] reality.  We were inside a shop, or perhaps it was a restaurant, that had large, glass windows set inside of light tan, almost peach, walls.  We clustered close together beneath these windows, for outside, sniffing the ground right on the other side of the wall, was a brown retriever dog that was evil and mean-spirited[…].  It had a face that seemed all red, with blood-shot eyes, and when it growled, it displayed fangs like hundreds of tiny, white daggers.  It was a face that stood in stark contrast to its warm, furry body.

Suddenly, someone from the store ran up to us and informed us in a hurried, half-amazed, half-panicked way that Darth Vader […] was here.  […] [M]y friends and I were walking from the store [when] I said to them, “I don’t care if […] [Darth Vader] is reformed.  Personally, I’ll never forgive him for what he’s done.  Maybe his dog [the brown retriever] but never him.”  We passed Darth Vader as I was saying this.  He was in his usual attire – dark cape, dark mask […] – but I was surprised that he looked that way in public.  I expected him to wear something different.  He was sitting at a small table right outside the door that we left through and he seemed to be having tea and exchanging idle conversation with a simple, ordinary male citizen sitting across from him.  The day was warm and the roads weren’t paved […] – but the streets weren’t exactly dirt, either.  They were more like a strange sort of gravel and stones – like white concrete rubble […] crushed and scattered […].  The small houses were built of white plaster and hardened mud.  The entire place had an odd, Mexico feel to it.

We made our way […] to a very large truck that was quite tall but stout – like a strange, steel hayride carriage except without the hay and horse […].  We sat on top of it […] and looked down as Darth Vader approached and asked if he could join our team.  “Take off your mask!” [o]ne of my friends shouted down to him.  He obeyed and revealed a face red and badly scarred as if from a fire.  We looked upon him […], seemingly so naked and vulnerable without his mask, and my friends relented, letting him join.

At some point, […] my friends ceased to be human but became, instead, these giant turtles that talk and walk on their hind legs.  They were crime fighters – exactly like those from the cartoon […] Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.  There was a young, teenage girl that was with them.  She was their friend and also a crime fighter – human with average height and average build and hair that was blond[e] and cut around her ears.  She wasn’t ever ugly – just average looking most of the time – although sometimes, at certain angles, she would become fascinatingly beautiful.  I think she was me, or who I became.  Although the now maskless Darth Vader was still with the Turtles, he became, at the same time, a dark and evil enchantress inside a castle ruin – a separate entity from Vader and yet, not really so separate.

[…] The girl […] [was] within the enchantress’ castle[,] standing on a platform made of stone.  The enchantress was beside her, wearing a dark robe and addressing a few of her subjects who gathered at the foot of the platform.  I remember thinking of the girl, She’s switched sides! [b]ecause she resented the fact that Darth Vader had joined the Turtles.  She wanted nothing to do with Vader and was angry and upset – looking to get back at her friends for allowing him to join.  Thus she came to be on the enchantress’ side – this dark woman who was also a queen and who was tall and thin with pale skin, black eyes, and long, straight black hair.  The girl had become this queen’s most prized advisor […].  The two of them stood on that platform within that dark and ruined castle as the queen announced her plans for moving into a new hiding place – a new castle.

“No!” the girl suddenly interrupted.  “Not that castle, Your Highness!”  […] I saw that she was very beautiful, with long, golden hair tied back in a medieval fashion.  She was tall and thin and wearing a light blue, almost silver dress whose sleeves exposed her forearms.  She proceeded to show her queen a better alternative – a better castle to choose – and as she did so, a great pool of water opened […] above her head surrounded by a stone rim.  An identical pool opened […] near her waist and shimmering there beyond the dark ripples of the watery surface was an image of a stone castle – an image in each pool, like mirrors reflecting off of each other.  “You see, Your Highness?” she said, and reached up a hand to touch the image above her head.  As her fingers brushed across the cold surface of the pool, the image swirled away in white wisps – twisting into the darkness at her command.

“It’s the perfect castle!” [t]he enchantress queen responded, quite pleased.

And then these two women stole away to their new hiding place on a gondola that sailed silently across the night waters as it delivered them to that castle which sat in the middle of an island.  It was here that the Turtles discovered them and fought to break through the convoluted castle walls […].  They were already inside the castle, but couldn’t manage to break all the way in to the very heart of it where the enchantress resided.  The girl, who was average-looking once more and wearing only a shirt and pants (no fancy dress) [,] raced up through the layers of twisted walls to fight against the Turtles and to protect her queen.  She was able to ambush one Turtle, leaping off a ledge onto her opponent below.  They wrestled with each other […] on top of the stone walls before the Turtle said, “So, it’s you!”  He must have lost the struggle, for the girl then went on to a lower section of this complex wall to where four other Turtles were attempting to scale it with ropes.  They hung there next to each other when the girl struck one of them, who in turn swung sideways and struck the Turtle beside him unintentionally – it was like a domino effect of swinging Turtles.

Somehow, they were able to talk to the girl and persuade her to forgive Darth Vader and accept him for his reformed self.  She was able to do so and thus switched back to being on their side – no longer angry with them.  They were a team again, and that was the feeling I came away with when I [woke] from [this] dream.

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White Dragon

I was inside a boxcar, moving along the tracks.  When I took a peek outside, I saw a large tornado spinning through the trees, destroying everything in its path.  It headed straight for a ship docked near the shore.  Suddenly, I was at the ship when the tornado exploded into a giant dragon, towering over […] the sailors – its body an almost clear white.  It threw its head back and roared, the flames burning inside of it clearly visible through its translucent skin – the yellow fire rising from its belly and through the length of its neck before alighting its nose for a brief instant and shooting out into the air […].  But this dragon was really the work of a magician and his daughter.  The dragon itself was actually a woman – the daughter, perhaps.  With the magician’s help, she was able to transform herself into a dragon and terrorize the people.  On board the ship, she turned back into a lady, wearing a black outfit and holding a claw.

Across the land, I could see an army of soldiers sent to fight this dragon.  The soldiers were dressed completely in suits of white – plain, skin-tight suits with tight hoods that wrapped around their heads – bare of any armor or decor.  Their only defense were swords and shields of the same white hue.

The magician had a contraption to defend against this pale army – his ambition to kill the army leader.  The contraption looked much like a large, wooden crate supported by four, wooden wheels – like a cart.  Fastened to it, at an upward angle by numerous coils of thick rope, was a spear.  It was like a harpooning contraption.  However, the magician’s daughter somehow got caught in the ropes (I think it was the result of a struggle between the two sides – between the magician and the white army leader) and the ropes […] caught fire, killing the woman tangled within and thus destroying also the white dragon.  But before her death, she murmured something about “the water of life,” perhaps instructing the magician to find it in order to restore her and bring her back for a fiery vengeance.

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Gargoyles

It was nighttime and the entire town was dark.  There was just enough light to see the area around the church – perhaps, this faint, eerie light was from a pale moon or from the distant glow of a streetlamp.  I either saw them, or I was one of them – a dark, powerful creature that rode in on the shadows with silent [leather] wings […].  This creature flew up and circled one of the spirals of the cathedral, followed by another and yet another.  Then they entered the church […], flying through one of the windows like bats […] [but] more silent and graceful […].

There was a gargoyle or two already inside, perched high […] on one of the ridges near the ceiling.  […] [There was] a battle over this territory […] as the three new gargoyles swooped in, materializing out of the darkness to face their rivals […].  Their fight was […] silent […], interweaving through the black air […].

One of them said something to the other […].  And then I was outside again, watching as one of these […] creatures flew […] away from the cathedral […], disappearing into the night sky […].

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Lions

I was looking through a […] textbook […] that detailed past wars […] from centuries ago.  I came upon a colored picture drawn as if it came from a medieval artist’s pen.  There were castle walls twisting across mountains, hills, and valleys and riding across the landscape – over these hills and valleys, scaling the castle walls – were drawn warriors in […] [suits of armor] and swords, riding on the backs of […] lions.  These lions took the soldiers into battle – climbing the walls to break into the castle […].

I thought, lions instead of horses.  Well, that’s a pretty good idea when it comes to wars.  Why didn’t I think of that?  The lions would be like extra warriors.

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