Daydream Believer

The sea glowed a feverish scarlet in the moonlight, stark against the blinding white sand. Morpheus paced on the brink of his realm as he nervously awaited her arrival. His sweeping greatcoat billowed in the vicious wind, rendering his form indiscernible in the darkness. Morpheus still refused to don the modern trench cloak, even if it had been several millennia since his creation.

She materialised out of the blue, vermilion rivulets of water coalescing into the form of an ethereal woman. “Calliope,” he breathed. He had forgotten how beautiful she truly was. Her cheekbones were creased with the memory of a thousand smiles, and she was fair of hair with eyes of an almost peculiar translucent gold that resembled a cat’s. However, she wasn’t smiling as she fixed her impassive stare at him now, and her very speech spoke of a great weight bearing on her soul. “Morpheus, my love. How the times have changed,”

They both knew why they were here, at this beach, on this day. They were aware that one day, humans would lose their ability to share stories with the world, a precious ability once so esteemed and venerated in the Ancient Ages. Eventually, the holocaust of memory would come for each and every one of their comrades. Today was that exact day for Calliope, goddess of stories and Muse of poetry.

Calliope sighed, knowing what awaited her in the other realm. “One more time?” she asked forlornly. “For old times’ sake?” “Anything for you, my lady,” Morpheus replied, a bittersweet grin creeping across his usually harsh features. The beach dissolved around them, replaced by a woodland clearing devoid of any trees and lined with blades of the finest grass. This was their place, somewhere in between his realm and the waking world.

She surveyed the familiar surroundings, conscious that more and more of herself was fading with every passing second. “You will take care of them for me, wouldn’t you? Fill their dreaming heads with stories whenever Hypnos transports them into your realm. Stories within stories, fragile things they will forget upon returning to the waking world. With luck, even the most intangible and fleeting dream could prove remarkably difficult to kill,” she said, glimmering threads of optimism shining here and there through her voice.

Perhaps in another life, he could’ve refused. Could’ve endured the never-ending agony of love and loss, could’ve avoided this arduous task of filling human heads with intricate stories. But not in this life. “Yes, by the Fates, a thousand times yes,” Morpheus fervently swore. Calliope nodded in satisfaction, and the world around them started fading into pale, smokey fingers of mist.

“Well, I guess this is farewell then,” she exhaled, a ghost of a smile flitting across her face, every inch a wilted rose. Acceptance came easy to her now. With her last remaining strength, she conjured up an ornate vial, engraved with an elaborate motif; books juxtaposed against undulating fountain pens. Taking a deep breath, her body slowly disintegrated into an ebony haze, the physical remnants of her very being. As the haze condensed into ink and settled into the bottom of the vial, Morpheus knew, then, that this too would happen to him one day. Humans forget old gods and believe new ones into existence; that was the nature of things, the tenets of the universe. He had to get used to it, no matter how melancholic it seemed.

Dusting grains of sand off the tiny vial, he gently looped it around his neck and let it nestle into the hollow of his throat. His mind lingered on his oath, wondering if he had enough influence to mould dreams to incorporate Calliope’s priceless legacy, ephemeral as only stories could be. Vowing never to let the golden memory of his sweet lady fade, he vanished with a swirl of his greatcoat.

Written by : Kong Yong Sin 2DLP