Lucid dreaming. A phenomenon which, according to most studiers of 
dreams (or oneironologists, if you're going to be picky), is fairly rare. When
you engage in a lucid dream, you are fully cognizant - you know who you are, 
and you know that you're dreaming. 

	A dream of this sort is to be prized above all other dreams. Have you
ever dreamed of flying? Now you can. Have you ever wanted to travel? You can go
anywhere in the blink of a neuron. Do you like to garden? You can make flowers
the likes of which no one has ever seen on Earth. Creating whole towns, cities,
countries, even worlds, with merely a thought... it's all as easy as you want it
to be. And if your fancies tend to carnal pleasures... well, it is your dream,
after all. Who am I to judge?

	The sheer power you possess in a lucid dream is beyond belief. And would
you believe that there are those who have these wonderful and remarkable gifts
bestowed upon them almost every night? 

	Yet this raises a question - one more suited to philosophers than
scientists. If one can distinguish two separate realities ... which of them is
one REALLY living in? 

	Riddle me that, hmm? 
	
	Ah. I see you're stumped. Well, no matter. We have other business.

	Come. Dream with me. But be cautious - things walk the dream tonight.
Things of evil no man should ever have to see. 


                                |----|

             Trans-Dimensional Llama Productions Presents
              In association with Working Title Fiction
                                
                             Dream Tides
                                
                 Verse Four: A Wood Full Of Mysteries
          by: Chamelaeon Wombatowski  (chamelaeon@hotmail.com)
                             
                'Dream Tides' was started by Todd Harper

                                |----|



	Chokmah opened his eyes. Had he been somewhere ... else? Somewhere
different? He frowned, deep in thought. 

	"No. No - I was going somewhere else. That was it." He pondered for a
second more. "And I have to ask Yesod if he'll come along." There. So many
questions could be answered with just a little thought. It was a pity people
didn't think more in general. Thinking was always the first step. Lucky thing he
was so good at it. He mentally blinked as he realized he was following an
organized set of instructions - ones which he apparently knew by heart. The next
step came even as he made this realization. Observe. He was awake. He was still
in the gazebo. The not-quite day of this realm still permeated everything - the
drab grey foliage still present. Scattered amongst them were the glimmering bits
of color that Binah had made... made when? How long ago? It seemed as if time
had passed, but he didn't know how much. Why not? Why... Chokmah mentally
checked his thoughts. Follow the pattern. Observe. The sky still glittered with
the white stars, almost invisible against the grey background. Yesod was nowhere
within Chokmah's field of vision. Next step. Think again. He could now assume he
was in the same place he had been when he went to sleep. He could not yet assume
that Yesod hadn't returned - wasn't his favorite perch atop the gazebo, out of
Chokmah's field of view? Yes. Fourth step - determine plan of action. He needed
to find Yesod, so he should probably get up and look for him. And now, the last 
and final step. Act. 

	Chokmah stood up. He suddenly blinked as he realized just how naturally
those steps had come to him - like he'd been practicing them for aeons. 

	"They just feel right," he murmured to himself. He blinked again, and
shook himself out of his reverie. He had to find his pale skinned friend. He
began walking. As he walked down the few broad steps from the gazebo, Chokmah
heard a voice from behind him. 

	"There you are. I was wondering when you would return." Chokmah turned.
Yesod sat atop the gazebo, staff in hand. As ever, he was gazing skyward. 

	"Return? You mean - I wasn't there?" Chokmah asked, blinking. A moment
of silence passed as Yesod stared intently skyward. Then he turned his head and
looked at the young man on the steps. 

	"No. I saw no sign of you when I returned from my walk." 

	Chokmah's mind flickered wildly. If he hadn't been here... then where
HAD he been? And how did he get back? How did he leave in the first place?
Realizing that his train of thought was derailing, he swiftly brought it back on
track. The tickle in the back of his mind that drove him to explore this place
had to be satisfied. 

	He cleared his throat. "No matter. Will you come with me, Yesod? To
see what's there? What we might find?"

	Chokmah's companion frowned. "I have... always relied on the Heavens for
my answers. Augury, oracles, and portents, these have always shown me the way.
Yet now..." He turned his face to the sky again, searching for something Chokmah
couldn't see, or even begin to imagine. "Now the stars seem closed to me." He
squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. "For whatever good it might do me, I will
come." He stood, straightened his tunic, and stepped off the edge of the gazebo.
As before, he floated gracefully. 

	Smiling widely, Chokmah shook his head. "You must teach me how to do
that, friend." 

	Yesod smiled at him - a close, secretive smile. "I'm afraid we would
both be learning, for I don't know how I do it myself."

	"And you don't want to know? You don't feel the need to know?"

	"Why question that which works fine on its own?"

	Chokmah frowned at this. "Because I have to. It's... it's hard to
explain." He struggled for words, as Yesod hesitantly put a hand on his
shoulder. 

	"Nevermind... friend." He said the word like it was something foreign -
like it tasted differently than anything he'd tried before. "Shall we go -
explore?" 

	Chokmah's face split in a broad grin. "I thought you'd never ask."

                                |----|

	"Mr. and Mrs. Crown?" The stark hospital light gleamed off the doctor's
small round glasses. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting. Right this..." the doctor
began, then caught himself. "Well I'm sure you know the way better than I do,
now." The woman sitting in the waiting room, hair neatly arranged in a
contemporary businesswoman style, looked up. Tears glimmered in the corners of
her eyes. Then a massive hand closed on her shoulder and squeezed gently.

	"It's all right, Dr. Roberts," said the man who owned the hand. "We know
you're busy."	

	The doctor, who was rather plump, cleared a his throat a couple of
times, nervously. "Um, er, shall we?" He gestured down the hall.

	"Yes, I suppose we should." The man stood up, and after taking his
wife's hand, helped her do the same. 

	Dr. Roberts blinked. Mr. Crown was a good two feet taller than his wife,
a fact which the absent-minded doctor often forgot. With the pair of them
standing next to each other, both in business suits and power ties, they made
quite an incongruous couple. After blinking again, Dr. Roberts began to trot
down the hall, Mr and Mrs. Crown trailing after him. "I also apologize for the
lateness of this visit.  But, seeing as how you've both been on business trips
the past week, I suppose you're both anxious to see him, what with this new
development, and all."

	Mr. Crown nodded. "Yes. Dora and I also had a few questions..."

	Stopping in front of a door, not unlike hundreds of other doors in the
hospital, the doctor nodded. "Yes, yes, of course. But come inside. You'll want
to see him, I'm sure." He pushed open the door, and motioned for the Crowns to
move in ahead of him. 

	A long moment of silence occurred as the three adults stared at the
figure laying prone on the bed. The silence was broken by Dora's sudden sob. She
turned and buried her face against her husband's chest. 

	Dr. Roberts flushed and turned his head, pretending to study the EEG.
The lines on the paper jumped and twitched, as if they were what were [was] really
alive, and the motionless thing on the bed was merely an extension of them.
Eventually, the sobbing ceased, and when Dr. Roberts looked again, both Dora and
Raymond Crown were looking at him expectantly. "Ahem," he coughed. "Now, the
theta waves, which peak during REM sleep, are represented as these purple
lines on the EEG. As you can see, they're peaking right now." He reached behind
the machine and produced a sheaf of printouts. Fumbling through them, he
produced a portion of them where the waves lapsed into nothingness. "There are,
however, these portions of dead time. Where he relapses into a state much like
he was before." 

	"Do you know what causes them?" Mr. Crown was still holding his wife,
though she had already dried her tears and was staring impassively at Daniel. 

	"Unfortunately, no. One of the nurses here offered a theory, though." He
offered the printout to Mr. Crown, and pointed to a certain section of it.
"These theta waves are peaking much higher than most normal people's do. She
suggested that since he works so hard when he dreams, he needs periods of
rest sometimes." He chuckled. "Not exactly the best scientific proof, but it
does make a certain sort of sense."

	"I suppose it does." Raymond's voice was quiet and monotone, and the
smile on his face was forced. 

	Suddenly, a small, thin voice, pitched to match the woman it came from,
said, "When?"

	Raymond's eyes snapped to Dora's face, then back to the doctor. "She
wants to know - "

	"I know," the doctor interrupted. "When will he wake." He sighed deeply,
took off his glasses, and cleaned them. "It's - it's hard to say, still. This is
a good sign - there's still something there, some remnant of his mind. Maybe
we're lucky, and the rest is still there as well." He balanced his glasses back
on his nose. "We don't know. We're better off than after the accident, but we
still have no definite sign as to when he''l be back - even if he'll be back."
He looked up, only to see both Crown's eyes full of tears. "I'm so sorry. But
Daniel's still on his own. Only he can show himself the way back to our world."

	"Th - thank you, doctor." Mr. Crown's words came haltingly. "We
should... probably go."

	The group was totally silent on the way to the exit. As he watched the
Crowns exit into the slightly chilly night, Dr. Roberts suddenly remembered the
laughing couple whose baby he'd delivered 17 years ago. Then he remembered the
horror on their faces when he'd told them that their son had been in an
accident. He wondered if he'd ever see the couple smile again.

                                |----|

	Yesod's brief talkative phase of earlier seemed to have retreated back
into the pale figure's calm facade. Sighing regretfully about it, Chokmah
continued to observe and mentally note every last detail of the scenery around
him - sometimes pausing to get a closer look at an interesting flower, sometimes
stopping to feel the rough bark of a particular tree. 

	They had moved out of what appeared to be the park proper into a rougher
section, as it were. It appeared to be a forest. The trees were denser, with
more limbs and leaves. Vines dangled from some of them, and dead branches often
hung akimbo amongst the living ones. If this was also a part of the park, it was
a very unkempt part of it. Yet the concrete path they had set out on was still
present, and the meandering way it took through the still, grey woods was clear
of obstruction. Though the grey color still permeated the world, and the 
white-washed stars still hung overhead, the shadows cast by the more numerous
trees seemed malevolent - as if wandering into them would mean never returning
to the safety of the path. The silence of Chokmah's traveling partner and the
failure of his attempts at conversation seemed to make the darkness reach out
for the pair, as if it was alive and possessed of a will of its own. A sudden
tension felt very palpable - as though something were coming to a head - an
awful, horrible conclusion... 

	"Yesod!" Chokmah barked out, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he'd
held. 

	Yesod started, and looked about wildly before settling his gaze on
Chokmah. He, also, was visibly shaken. "Yes?" 

	Searching for a reason to explain his sudden outburst, without
alarming his companion, Chokmah stuttered out "What - what do you remember...
before?" 

	Yesod, who had stopped walking at Chokmah's outburst, frowned. "Before
what?"

	"Before we all met." Chokmah started walking again, with his long loping
strides. Yesod began walking quickly to catch up, which required his shorter
legs to move much faster. He was still frowning as he caught up to Chokmah.

	"I don't know. I remember being alone, and staring at the sky. Seeing
the patterns which tell me what's coming." He shook his head, as if to clear it.
"Why do you ask?"

	"I remember nothing, really. All I know is that I have to learn
everything. Everything..." His monologue was cut short by bitter laughter from
inside the woods. 

	"You can try, brother. But you will never know it all. Never." Malkuth,
green hair framing her sneering face, stepped from the woods. Immediately, Yesod
drew back behind Chokmah. This merely served to draw attention to him. "Ah,
Foundation. So my brother's asinine quest has drawn you away from your precious
stars. Surely YOU know how futile this is."

	Chokmah, flustered, tried to reassert some control. "Why are you here?
What right have you to judge me, or my actions?"

	Malkuth smiled. "I am here because these are my woods. The woods which
man has created because he fears purity - fears true knowledge." She glanced at
Yesod. "Or true emotion." Yesod cringed and drew further behind Chokmah. "And as
for my right to judge you?" She paused. "I judge all. I am Reality. I mute
dreams, and squelch prayers. I make knowledge lost, and warp emotion. I am Man's
creation, just as they are mine."

	"What do you mean?" Chokmah asked, voice flaring. 

	"I'll let you find out, brother of mine." Sarcasm dripped from her
words. "I enjoy making you wait, you know that? You get so frustrated when
someone denies you the smallest bit of knowledge." The sneer permanently fixed
on her face seemed to deepen. "Well, in the real world, dear brother," she said,
each word like a dagger, "in the REAL world, no one knows ANYTHING. Everything
you think you know is merely a reflection of what's really True!" Placing her
hands on her hips, she took a breath, ready to continue.

	"I know." The sound of Chokmah's voice wiped the sneer from her face for
a split second. He plunged onwards. "Shadows on a wall. The fire of Truth."
Chokmah had no clue where he had learned this, but he felt it as true. As True.
"Yet I forge on. Because, sister, the more shadows I can see, the closer I get
to the flame." 

	"You and your logic. Disgusting." She shifted her glance to Yesod. "And
you." She smiled sweetly, a smile which did not extend to her eyes. The
resulting image was grotesque. "Care for a romp in the woods, Yesod? These are
as much yours as they are mine."

	Yesod started, eyes widening. "What... what do you mean?"
	
	"My dear Foundation. Emotion is just as responsible for the Dark Woods 
as Reality." The smile remained, seeming to be just a mask plastered on - an
emotionless curve of the lips, mocking without a word.

	"No... no... " Yesod crumpled to the ground, clutching his head. "I'm
not evil... I never meant to kill..." Releasing his head, he stared blindly at
the ground in front of him. He failed to notice the blood once again seeping
through his fingers and down his scalp. "I'm not..." He began sobbing, the salty
tears blending with the blood, which merely smeared them both across Yesod's
face and hands. Malkuth's eyes drank it all in, the smile finally seeming to
reach her full face.

	Chokmah looked on in horror. Why was she doing this? What delight did
she get in causing others pain? Quickly he ran through his mental steps. The
action arrived in a few seconds. He had to stop her. 

	"Stop this, Malkuth." Chokmah stepped between the green-haired woman and
the pale, bleeding figure. "Your business here is done. Leave us in peace."

	A flash of surprise showed for an instant in her eyes, then was quickly
supressed. "As you wish, brother. But don't feel sad when I part, for we shall
surely meet again. And as for you, Foundation. You and I belong together. I
shan't let you escape so easily." Her sneer was firmly in place again as she
stepped backwards, melting into the woods. Then she was gone.

	Chokmah bent down to help the bloodied Yesod to his feet, still staring
after Malkuth. Just what was she really after? 

	He felt the sluggishness overtake him as he drifted downwards towards
unconsciousness.

                                |----|

	Jamie hefted his bookbag on his shoulder. He wasn't sure why he'd
decided to walk to the hospital instead of taking a cab, but he sure knew he was
regretting it. To keep his mind off his aching feet, he decided to recall as
much as he could about his cousin Daniel. 

	Daniel had been born in this town. Both his parents worked for a
marketing firm, and had been away a lot. That hadn't seemed to stop them from
being one big happy family together, however. Every time Jamie had come to
visit, they'd always seemed the same - laughing and enjoying themselves and
Jamie's company. Nothing seemed to get them down.

	Until the one day, three years ago, when a drunk driver had suddenly
shattered that image forever. Daniel had been on his way back from a movie with
friends, when suddenly the drunken fool had come careening around the corner and
sent the teenager flying a total of ten feet through the air. Jamie growled as
his fist clenched unconsciously on his backpack strap. People who had no respect
for life made him madder than hell. But back to Daniel. After opening his eyes
to ask if his friends were alright, Daniel passed out. He hadn't woken up since.
Jamie's aunt and uncle had spent hundreds of thousands of dollars moving from
hospital to hospital, hoping someone knew the answer. But no one had, and so
they brought him back home, to lie there in an interminable slumber. 

	Bringing his mind back the the present, Jamie noted he'd almost missed
the entrance to the hospital. Chuckling to himself, he reversed direction and
reminded himself to be more careful.

	The lobby of the hotel smelled of disinfectant and potpourri. Jamie
walked up to the front desk, noted that nobody was in sight, and decided it was
best to wait in one of the plush paisley chairs scattered about the room. 

	Settling into a chair where he could easily see if someone approached,
Jamie mulled over a not-particularly-interesting magazine until he heard a
voice behind him. 

	"Well, now, dear. How can I help you?" Spinning around, Jamie found
himself face to face with a middle-aged woman, black hair drawn in a tight bun.
Jamie idly noted that several stray hairs had escaped being drawn back and
instead floated freely, giving the nurse a semi-haphazard appearance. 

	Jamie smiled. "Um, I'm here to visit Daniel? Daniel Crown?" 

	The nurse returned his smile with one just as big. "Aaah, a visitor. I'm
sure he'll be very happy to see you." 

	Jamie blinked. "He's woken up?"

	"No, no, no," the nurse chuckled. "But I'm sure he'll be happy to see
you just the same. Right this way, please." She bustled on down the hallway,
jabbering on about the weather, politics, and just about every topic she could
fit into a two minute walk. She reminded Jamie incredibly of a hummingbird -
always moving, always doing something. 

	"And, of course, we all know how much trouble HE likes to get into. Ah,
yes. Here we are. Try not to tire him out too much, dearie." She smiled, nodded,
and moved on down the hallway. Jamie ducked in the door.

	The white room looked and smelled sterile. The pale-haired figure on the
bed breathed steadily and slowly, creating an interesting odd-metered rythm with
the beeping of the machines and the gentle scratching of the paper printouts.

	Jamie approached the bed and leaned on the rail. "Hello, Daniel." There
was, of course, no reply. "How you doing?" Jamie paused. "I'm fine, I guess.
College is interesting, and I've met several interesting people. It looks like
we might get along fine." He sighed. "Yes. Everything's fine." He reached out,
tenatively, and patted Daniel's hand. "People miss you, Daniel. Come back soon."

	Picking up his bag from where he'd dropped it and heading towards the 
door, Jamie took a look back at the monitors. 

	The theta wave monitor throbbed.

                                |----|

	Kether hung in his mirror-filled room. All the mirrors were dark and
empty, excepting Kether's own.

	"I can feel you, Father. I know you're near." He paused, cocking his
head as if to listen. "But I can't come back yet. I have too much to do."


                                |----|

Author's Notes:

Whew. This is my defining part as an Impro author - my first solo. I'd
considered writing for several, but Dream Tides took my eye because of one
factor. It was hard. I figured, after going for the supposedly hardest Impro,
why not shoot for an indie just as hard? (Not that that's bad. I find
that the more interesting an Impro is, the harder it is to write.)

Anyways. Thanks to Todd for ideas, Ravi, Todd, and Mechalink for prereading, and
to Kitty for putting up with my inane ramblings about this part whilst I was
writing it. Thanks also to Ard, Mecha, Falc, Ravi, and Todd for pushing me to
actually do another part. I always forget how fun it is to write once I'm done. 

Apologies for the shortness of the part. That said, lemme move on to an
explanation of the Dark Woods. I basically decided to make it so that the dream
world touches the real world in only a few places. The park is one of those
places. The campus is another. Between each location lies the Dark Wood, which is
basically the dark side of the subconcious. A concrete path runs through the
Wood from location to location. The path is safe, if you step off it, there's
little to no chance you'll ever come back. As of now, only Malkuth and Yesod can
walk through the forest safely. 

Verily! So much for all that. 

Chamelaeon