Sunlight filtered in through the blinds, casting alternating patterns of light and shadow to fall across the still boy's form. Hair blond and fine, the silky platinum strands moved slightly as the air vent activated and then shut off. Skin pale, an anaemic color that almost matched the stark white sheets of the bed. The room was plain, simple and small; it could have been a dorm in a small university or college, but the machinery cluttered around the bed gave it away. The smell of strong disinfectant, masking the odour of sickness wafted in from the hallway. There's no disguising the smell of a hospital. Beep, beep, beep. The green line on the monitor peaked, and fell... peaked and fell... a steady, rhythmic pattern. The sheet over the boy raised as he inhaled, and then it fell again as he exhaled. A nurse, with her black hair pulled up into a quick frenchroll, entered the room, smiling wearily. She walked over to the small table beside the bed and picked up the vase of wilting flowers. "How are we today, Daniel?" she asked the comatose patient, as she dumped the dying flowers into a garbage bag. "Feel like waking up today, perhaps?" No reply. "I know you can hear me on some level, dear," she continued, unabashed. "So you just remember that you whenever you feel up to it, you come back here. There's a lot of people waiting for you." Adel noted his heart rate, and then picked up the garbage bag. The EEG machine continued to print off its lines. Walking over to it, Adel observed the record of her patient's brainwaves. "Well," she said, brightly, "I didn't realize you were dreaming, Daniel. Here I am prattling on while you're off in the dreamland." She smiled. "I'm sure Dr. Roberts will be happy to hear about this." Adel let the paper fall to the ground, and after patting the young man's hand, she walked out of the room. Daniel's eyelids continued to flutter, and the needle on the EEG machine continued to waver across the paper... and somewhere... a consciousness stirred... ~ Swift Demon Productions Presents In association with Working Title Fiction Dream Tides Verse Two: A Room Full of Mirrors by: Chandra Rooney (inu_42@hotmail.com) 'Dream Tides' was Started by Todd Harper ~ A pinprick of light flickered, glowing softly in the darkness. Its wavering radiance worked to create definition in a seeming void, and it swelled until its meager light touched the walls. Walls... confines... finding the shape and form of the six-sided enclosure. The walls reflected back an onyx gleam. The light remained ever expanding, spreading itself out to fill the room. The solid ball dispersed, leaving only a source-less illumination, which seemed to come from the very air itself. Two golden orbs appeared, darker than the shimmering air, as the young man opened his eyes. White hair floated freely above his head, moving in a swaying motion, as if caught in an unseen breeze. Casting his gaze about, he took in his surroundings and was surprised by nothing. (I have always been here,) he reflected, silently. (Why should I find anything a surprise?) He breathed in and then out, the shining air barely registering the movement. The four onyx sidewalls, each with two perfectly crafted panels, gleamed. Four of the panels flashed, reflections appearing in them. The mirror before him reflected back a young man with hair the color of the night. He was dressed all in white, and the staff of Hermes lay at his side. Eyes a deep indigo stared up at the sky, catching and trapping the very stars within their depths. (Yesod,) the boy mouthed the name. (Oh, mournful Foundation, still watching the Heavens?) Stretching, he sought to touch the mirror's surface, but it was beyond his reach. "But you are not alone, Foundation," the boy whispered. "Soon we will all be together. Even I shall walk amongst you, as I did that time before." He smiled gently at the lonely figure, and then turned around. The mirror on the wall opposite Yesod's caught his attention. Within in glassy depths, sat a woman with green eyes, grinning a smile that stretched her skin tight across her face. (Netzach,) the boy thought, eyes settling on her. (She looks like the proverbial cat that's swallowed the unlucky canary.) _Truth,_ the reflection echoed. _I shall manufacture Truth._ "Truth, indeed," he remarked, looking about at his prisoner of mirrors. "Yes, Knowledge awaits, Netzach. But you shall not have me by the means you've chosen." He leaned back, regarding the woman. "You think the Crown is yours for the taking, don't you, presumptuous Victory?" He turned away from her. "You're a fool," he intoned. "Enjoy your bliss while you can." (She _will_ cause problems,) he thought, as his eyes swept over the empty panel beside her. (But, for now, it cannot be helped.) The mirror on the wall next to hers flashed to life in the same instant that the one on the wall opposite it did. The boy found himself caught between the two reflections, standing in the path that cast them upon each other. In the one to his left, an ashen-haired girl smiled and floated through a field of flowers. She was dressed in rags, and her eyes were like-multi-faceted diamonds reflecting back rainbows. Butterflies with wings of jewels fluttered through her garden. He smiled, and touched the mirror with his hand. "Binah," he said, softly. "As joyful as ever. I missed you, Mother." In the mirror, the girl paused, a flower half-crafted in her hand and looked around, as if trying to discern where a voice had come from. She stared straight out at him and smiled. After a moment, she giggled and went back to her flowers. He turned from her mirror, looking to the one on his right. In it a boy with eyes green as emeralds inspected a black feather, turning it over in his hands. He was dressed simply, in brown traveling clothes. The boy with the golden eyes nodded to him. "Ever questing, Chokmah?" he asked, fingers brushing against the mirror. Chokmah looked up suddenly, turning around. "Who's there?" he asked, looking around him. "I hear you... but I can't see you anywhere..." (No, and you won't see me until the time is right,) the boy with the golden eyes thought. (But you shall hear me, Father. Only you and Binah... for that is the way it should be.) "Hello?" Chokmah repeated. "Are you still there?" "Yes," the boy with the golden eyes replied. "I can't see you." Chokmah turned, looking around. "No one ever sees me," the boy replied. "But I am always there. I have always been. Sometimes you can _perceive_ me, like a flashbulb going off in your head. However, most of the time I whisper to you, and you never realize that it's my voice you hear." "Who are you?" "I am..." the boy paused, his golden eyes half-closing in sudden concentration. A name passed through his mind, 'Kether', but it felt wrong. He settled on a different one. "For the moment, I am Da'at," he replied, nodding. "Later, you shall know me by another name, Chokmah." "Da'at?" Chokmah frowned. "I don't know that name. I should know it, shouldn't I?" "No, you can't be expected to," Da'at replied. "It is your way to learn things through experience, Chokmah. It is mine to know them innately." Weariness washed over him, and he leaned forward, pressing his face against Chokmah's mirror. "I can't maintain the connection for much longer." "But why?" Chokmah asked. "I want to learn more about you. I... think that I could learn many things from you." "You could learn everything from me," Da'at replied, closing his eyes. "But I wouldn't wish that curse upon you... or anyone else." He sighed. "Make a habit of listening very carefully, Chokmah, then you will be ready for when I am able to speak to you." "Why can you only speak sometimes?" he asked again. "It is dangerous to know too much," Da'at repeated, patiently. "Besides that, I am not like you. I am different. The pathway between us is weaker than the ones that exist between you and the others." "Why?" "Because..." Da'at stopped, frowning. "Something went wrong." "What?" "I was supposed to be one of you," Da'at muttered, "but something stands in my way." He shook his head. "I am imprisoned, Chokmah, in a room without doors. The walls are black mirrors that only reflect other people's lives. I can't see myself in any of them." "Then I will learn why you are imprisoned," Chokmah declared. "And I will learn how to free you." Da'at tilted his head. "Why would you do such a thing? Don't you know what releasing me upon the world before it's ready would do?" "No, but I expect I'd learn of that along the way." Chokmah looked off into space. "_She_ said that the world wasn't ready for Binah, either." His expression turned thoughtful. "Do you know who the woman was?" "Yes." "Who is she?" "She is Malkuth." Da'at swallowed. "That is all I will say of her at this point." "All right," Chokmah sighed. "I wonder if Binah and Yesod know anything more about her." Da'at stared into the mirror. Chokmah's emerald eyes held his golden ones. "Think no further of Malkuth at the moment," Da'at advised. "Find another quest to pursue." Chokmah nodded. "Well, you said that you were supposed to be one of us, but something stopped you. I want to know what happened... and why. Perhaps, I'll make that my quest." "I know you'll do what you feel is right," Da'at stated, simply. "I don't doubt you do," Chokmah murmured. "Chokmah," Da'at stepped back from the mirror. "Please, give my greetings to Yesod. I know he's been waiting to hear from me." "You're going," Chokmah concluded. "I don't leave," Da'at replied. "I am and will always be." He paused. "But, my strength fades. I must rest now, Chokmah." ~ Chokmah felt the presence leave. He looked around at the silent woods. "The world seems less bright now," he muttered, as he resumed picking his way through the trees. The forest opened up to display the flower covered clearing. "You've been busy," he remarked, good-naturedly. Binah looked up from her latest creation, a golden lotus. "Hello, Chokmah!" she said, cheerfully. "I had another visitor before, but he couldn't stay very long." "Oh?" he asked, sitting down next to her in the flowers. "Who was it? Yesod?" She shook her head, her silver hair flying. "Oh, no. This 'he' was a little voice that said he missed me and then had to go away again." Her diamond eyes flashed almost as bright as her grin. "But he'll come visit again. I'm pretty sure." "His name didn't happen to be ' Da'at ', did it?" he asked. Binah giggled. "Maybe. He didn't say. Did he talk to you, too?" He nodded. "Yes." "Do you like him?" "I think so." "Good." She smiled. "Because it's good to have more people who we like to talk to." She looked at his hand. "That's a pretty feather," she remarked. "Do you like it?" he asked, extending it towards her. "Its yours if you want it." "Really?" she asked, eyes sparkling. Chokmah nodded, and she reached forward and took the feather from him. "Have you seen Yesod?" he asked. "I think he's back on top of that..." her face scrunched, cutely, in concentration. "That building. I think he's always been there." She cupped in the feather in her hands then she blew into them. He frowned. (Yes, just like you're always surrounded by flowers,) he thought. "Da'at wanted me to tell him something," he told Binah. "Why do you think he didn't just tell Yesod?" Binah opened her hands, and a black bird flew off into the air. "Maybe he can't," she suggested. "Do you like my bird?" "Yes." Chokmah nodded. He watched the bird disappear into the woods, shadows and rainbow highlights flowing across its flapping wings. "I suppose," he began, reflectively, "that maybe you're right. But why wouldn't Da'at be able to speak to Yesod?" "Why _would_ he be able to?" Binah shrugged, bored and began dancing through the flowers, her feet never touching the ground. (I don't think I can learn anything more from her,) Chokmah concluded. (At least not right now. I'll come back later.) "It was good to see you again, Binah," he called, waving. "I'm going to speak to Yesod. You're welcome to come, if you like." The pixyish little girl didn't reply; she simply continued twirling and dancing amongst the rainbow of blossoms. ~ Yesod was atop the gazebo again, staring up at the sky. (Is that all he ever does?) Chokmah wondered, as he walked into the garden. (Maybe Binah's right. Maybe he has always been there.) "Yesod," he called up to the solitary figure. "I was looking for you." "Why would you want to do that?" Yesod asked, without turning his gaze from the silent heavens. "I met someone new," Chokmah began. "Well, I heard his voice anyway," he clarified. "His name is Da'at, and he wanted me to send his greetings to you. He said you'd been waiting to hear from him." He walked up to the steps of the gazebo, looking up at Yesod. Yesod turned, and looked down at Chokmah, frowning. "I don't know who that..." he trailed off. "This Da'at said that I had been waiting to hear from him?" Chokmah nodded. "He seemed to think you'd know what he meant. I guess that means you must," he added, after a pause. Yesod turned back to the sky. "I see. Thank you, Chokmah." Chokmah fidgeted. "Do you know what it means?" he asked, finally. The boy with the star-filled gaze shook his head. "Have you seen that woman again?" he asked, changing the subject. "The one who calls you 'brother'?" "Da'at told me that her name is Malkuth," Chokmah related. "Does it mean anything to you?" Yesod frowned. "No," he idly fingered his staff. "A name doesn't help me." Chokmah followed Yesod's gaze, peering at the stars. "A name is a start," he remarked. "We can learn things by asking others if they know Malkuth." "What others?" Yesod asked, bluntly. "I have seen no others. Have you?" Chokmah considered that. "No," he admitted, "but just because we haven't seen them doesn't mean that there aren't any." He brightened. "After all, I've not seen Da'at, but I know that he exists." "I have a feeling that Da'at is different." Silence settled over the two of them. A distant star twinkled. "So we'll go looking for others," Chokmah announced, finally. "We'll find out if there are some, or if we're the only ones. There might even be others like us that are looking, too." "How do you know?" "I don't, but I don't know that there aren't," he sighed, exasperated. "I haven't seen them," Yesod told him. "I've been here alone for as long as I can remember. Wouldn't they have found me if they were looking?" "Maybe they never thought of going to look for others. Did you ever think of it?" Yesod shook his head. "I... I don't think my... role is to go and look for others. I was waiting for something else." "See? Maybe they think it's not their place to come looking for us, either," Chokmah suggested. "Why do you want to go searching for something that you might not find?" Yesod asked. "Because..." Chokmah frowned. (How do I explain it to him?) "Because?" Yesod repeated. "Because of what other things I might find while searching," he said, finally. "Sometimes the destination isn't as important as the journey you take to get there." Yesod turned back to Chokmah, smiling faintly. "You may be right." "So you'll come, then?" Chokmah asked. Yesod shook his head. "I didn't say that." He picked up his staff and got to his feet. "So you won't come," Chokmah interpreted. Yesod crouched at the edge of the gazebo's roof and leapt down. "I didn't say that, either," he replied, as he straightened and dusted himself off. Chokmah frowned and scratched his head. "So... are you going to come with me to look for other people, or aren't you?" Yesod had begun to walk away, but he turned and looked back over his shoulder. "I'm going to think on it," he replied. "Ask me when next we meet, and I'll have my answer for you." Chokmah sighed. "But I don't want to just wait around," he complained, as he walked up the steps into the gazebo. Sinking down onto the bench within the solitary structure, he leaned back against one of the roof's support pillars. From beyond the haze of the horizon, he watched as a black bird soared through the air, swooping down and landing on the gazebo railing across from him. "Wrrroaakk?" it inquired, fixing an eye like black opal on him. Chokmah smiled and watched the rainbow hued highlights dance across the bird's glossy black feathers as it preened. Like Binah, dancing through a field of flowers... like his thoughts dancing away to the corners of his mind, as his eyelids sank lower and lower... ~ Da'at observed all of it from within his room full of mirrors. (Watching, watching,) he thought, annoyed. (Why does it bother me so to do naught but observe this world? I should be content in my role.) An uneasy feeling settled over him, and the air's shimmer decreased in intensity. (This is my world,) Da'at thought, anxiously, (there shouldn't be any question about it that I don't know the answer to... But...) he trailed off, sighing wearily. Da'at allowed his golden eyes to pass over the four mirrors. Victory with her smug grin, Foundation with his mournful eyes, Understanding amongst the flowers, and finally Wisdom in his travelling clothes. Each image was a perfectly clear window to the being in question, and each window was upside down. (No,) Da'at corrected, (I am the one that hangs reversed.) He looked at his feet, noting that they were submerged within the ceiling mirror. Within the mirror, a boy with golden eyes stared out at him. His white hair tumbled around his face, and the brilliant white crown upon his head glowed intensely. "Kether," Da'at whispered. "Yes," replied his reflection. "I knew that." Closing his golden eyes, Da'at sank towards the mirror above him, letting the coolness of its smooth surface flow up his body... The air dimmed and darkness reclaimed the room. Yet, just before the light faded completely away, something green flashed across the floor's onyx surface... ~ Needles wavered, tracing lines on the paper. Sharp blue eyes watched them for a while, and then the brown-haired doctor turned away from the EEG machine. "Dreaming," he muttered, shaking his head. "Still it's progress of a sort. Inform the Crowns of the change in their son's condition, nurse." He flipped over the chart and began to walk away. "Of course," Adel nodded, then added. "It is a good sign, isn't it, Doctor Roberts?" "I hope so," he replied. "We've done all we can to try and determine what happened. Now, it's up to Daniel." ~ completed 7:21 pm 9.22.00 ~ Afterword, (In Which Stuff is Explained) ~ This part hovered, swaying between NonBeing and Being for the longest time. I had a few very vague ideas in my mind: 1. A room full of mirrors reflecting back other people's lives 2. Someone trapped within this room, looking out but never being able to interact with what they saw reflected. 3. A boy in a coma. 4. Da'at, the quasi-sefirah.* I didn't think they would be enough to write an entire part, and I'm still not sure that this suffices. Oh well. I must admit that these scattered images weren't the first things that came to my mind upon rereading Verse One. (But after considering how it sort of limited what could be done with the characters in future parts, I decided not to kill off all of the Sephirah in bloody, violent deaths at the hands of Yamato.) My idea was that as each Sephirah was developed into a character, their reflection would appear in one of the mirrors in Da'at's room. (Ten branches, ten mirrors.) Of course, since this is an Impro, it's only a highly _suggested_ way of handling the character. Look how mean I am; I've made you read all the way through this rather long afterword. Thank you: Phoebe: for encouragement and extensions. (Have fun with the waking world.) Gink: ideas, encouragement, prereading help (Yes, EEG, not EGG.) John: For encouragement, offering a more comprehensible perspective, and just basically putting up with my whining. (Gomen nasai.) Phil: For prereading. (No, I still don't know what's going on in the part, either.) The email address is up there. Use it if you like, or feel the need. ~ * Todd's webpage left something out. Maybe it's because it was based on the Egyptian Sephiroth. (Which would explain the wonky spellings.) Anyway, you know the drill... it's time to learn about the Sephiroth with Inu. Inu: *waves* Hi, everyone! Da'at, which is pronounced "Dah-aht", is a quasi-sefirah. It is an exterior representation of Kether, and not a separate branch. Da'at is found on the second highest place on the pillar of compassion, just below Binah and Chokmah. Da'at is therefore a harmonizing agent between these two Sefirah. It is usually called "Knowledge" and described as "divine inspiration". [Source: pg 65-66, "Kabbalah: Key to Your Inner Power" by Elizabeth Clare Prophet.] Right, thanks, Inu. Inu: Ne, Boss... me and the raven couldn't help noticing that this part was pathetically short. Now, difficult as it was to write, shouldn't you at least offer some cheesy omake or something? I don't want to, Inu. I'm tired. Inu: Fine then. I'll provide some cheesy filler stuff. You'll regret it. I do already. [See Chaos' omake on the DT main page for Inu's story ^_^]