Eldaria

“You a Newt?” the boy hops off the branch he was perched on and lands gracefully in front of me, digging his hands into the pockets of his baggy pants. His hair, wind-swept and black. Eyes, pale blue, like the sky in midday when everything is just so clear and bright. He is grinning, flashing rows of white teeth and he is looking at me with a glint in his eyes. One look is all I need to know that he is the friendly, happy-go-lucky type of person. But I don’t like it.  “…What?” I squeak, because my voice was hoarse from sleep. I scan my surroundings in a panic. I am obviously not in bed—an understatement—I am on a tree with branches big enough for me to lie on. My though process was going haywire and I can barely begin to wonder how on earth I got here. “Newt. A Neutral. You don’t know what you are?” He jeers, as if the thought was funny. I raise my eyebrows in confusion. “I’m human, that much I know.” His smile falters. “What’s a human?” I stare at him like he’s just grown another head, which in this case might not be so ridiculous compared to the question he just asked. “I am. And so are you.” I say matter-of-factly. I shouldn’t spare him the time for humor, but I’m really just going with the flow here for the meantime. I study his stature. He looks human enough to me, although he could use a better fashion sense. The brown rags aren’t helping to make him look respectable in this modern day and age. And what’s with the goggles? “No. I’m a Glider. And you must be a Neutral.” He says, the same way I told him. He looks at me as I if I were the delusional one. My forehead creases even more as I furrow my eyebrows at him. “What on earth are you talking about?” And he does the same. “What’s an earth?” “Okay, now you’re just messing with me,” I laugh mirthlessly. “Clearly this conversation is getting us nowhere. Where am I?” I stand up shakily and brush the dirt off my pajamas. I am still wearing them, and I am grateful that I decided to wear my long-sleeved shirt to sleep last night instead of my usual tank tops. I’m relieved that I’m dressed modestly. But that is the least of my concerns. He is still staring at me, like he’s trying to pick a lock and figure out how to open my identity. “We’re on Neutral grounds.” He says. “This is a tree.” I point out. “Part of the Neutral grounds.” He amends. I look around, careful not to leave my place leaning on the trunk, afraid that I might slip and fall to my doom. I am talking to a deranged stranger, in my sleepwear, on a huge tree on God-knows-where, about to plunge down to my death if I take one wrong footing. I must be so stupid because it was only then when it occurred to me that I must be dreaming. “Uhm. Okay. Where exactly is this ‘Neutral grounds’?” I decide to ride along with his little charade. Messing around in my dream won’t hurt. It’s a dream. Not real. And then I get this crazy idea to prove that I really am dreaming. “You know what, I don’t want to know. I think I can figure that out myself.” I let go of the comfort and safety of the rough bark against my back and jump off the tree. I feel… exhilarating. The wind whipping across my face, my hair, my body, and I’m flying. Temporarily. Because I can see the ground get closer and closer by the minute. And I realize too late that this dream is a little too real because I am not feeling the peace that usually associates with dreams even in the face of danger, because I know I’ll wake up, and instead I feel panic and fear. I am falling and there was nothing I can do about it. I brace myself for the impact, anticipate the pain of crushed bones and mangled muscles but nothing happens. I pry my eyes open and almost decide that I really was dreaming because I didn’t die, but I feel the pressure of my shirt being pulled up against my chest and I look up to see the boy’s eyes flashing dangerously as he is holding onto the fabric of my shirt. It feels real. The fear and euphoria is real. But he is floating. Levitating. Flying. Whatever he was doing that is keeping him up in midair. No, I am definitely dreaming. “Well, I guess that explains it.” I say, as if I hadn’t just plummeted myself to near death. “Are you out of your mind?!” He shouts, his voice a deep booming resonance and I flinch involuntarily. He is still gripping onto my shirt and I can feel it press against my ribs painfully. “Let me down.” I command. And he drops me unceremoniously from the last two feet of my fall, onto the soft wet grass and I am calm and composed. He is otherwise. “Did you just try to kill yourself?!” He shakes a fist at me, no trace of a smile left on his currently grimacing face, and I blink at him. He is a different person when he is not smiling. “Yes. Well, no. Not really. I knew I’d survive somehow because this is just a dream, obviously. People can’t fly.” I shrug. “And they don’t wake up on top of a tree and talk to strangers who can fly.” I gesture in the space between us, indicating the situation we were in. “You are mad.” He deadpans. “An entity in my dream has no right to say that.” I retort “I am no entity in anyone’s dream, you weird suicidal- whatever you are, because you definitely aren’t from around here.” He stares at me up and down like he’s just realized that I look out of place in my loose sweater and black and white polka-dotted PJs. “I thought we’ve already established that. Apparently you’re not very smart.” I cross my arms and stare at him back. He is wearing alternatively weird clothes. A green shirt and brown pants that look like they were made out of leaves. He blended in perfectly with the flora. I almost snort. “And you’re making me regret saving you from death by stupidity.” He mimics my gesture and crosses his arms, but he is more intimidating because he towers over me and I am sitting cross-legged on the earthen floor. He is glaring at me intensely. I decide that he looks better this way. He does not look as stupid as I think he was when he is sporting that aloof and childish grin. “But still you’re not smart.” I challenge. “Well, I’m smart enough to resist punching your ungrateful face.” He counters. “Why don’t you just thank me for saving your life?” “Fine then. Thank you. Although the effort was unnecessary.” I lift myself off the ground and stand parallel to him, face to face. I barely reach his shoulder and have to tilt my head up in order to make eye contact. He frowns. “Whatever. Feel free to try again, maybe then you’ll see which one of us is the stupid one. Oh wait, maybe not because you’ll be dead.” He chuckles darkly, waves dismissively and walks past me in a frustrated pace. He pauses midstride and turns back to say, “Good luck trying to get past these woods without my help. You don’t seem like you’ll need it.” And with that he gives me one last smirk and shoots up in the air and I feel the breath get caught up in my throat. I know this is a dream. I know I’m in bed right now, sleeping soundly and that I suddenly have the irrational urge to drag that imp into consciousness with me just to prove I’m right.