Chapter 1

         Standing on the mountain, Jaco lifted his eyes from the city below, hopeful for the new beginnings waiting in the city above the sky. Tomorrow, he thought, anticipation thickening the air around him. Tomorrow, Jaco and his mentor would travel to represent their humble island nation at the Interstellar Summit, where the leaders of two worlds would meet to determine the future of humanity.

         Beneath the indigo sky, the evening sun cast the buildings of Argulan City in a diorama of orange and shadow stretching all the way to the coast. A damp breeze swept toward the sun, sending waves through the grass and fluttering Jaco’s cloak.

         Behind him, the side door to the mountain temple clicked open. “Good evening, Jake,” his mentor called. Named after the mountain, Goh ba Argulan had raised Jaco like a son, training him in the ways of a Dream Keeper. Like Jaco, Goh was short, with bronze skin and a flat nose characteristic of their people. His dark hair was streaked with gray, and the way the corners of his eyes creased when he smiled reminded Jaco that no matter what happened, everything would always turn out all right.

         The sound of ceramic on the picnic table signaled that Goh had brought hot water for tea. His footsteps, though . . . Jaco turned to find him walking toward the old stump. Again. Jaco sighed in mock exasperation. “Goh, the mint hasn’t grown there in five years.”

         Goh perked up as if from a trance, looking from the stump to the grove of young pines in the other direction. He hooted in laughter, shuffling toward them. “I must be getting old.”

         Jaco joined him, bending down to pick a few mint leaves sprouting from the bed of pine needles.

         “Sacred Dream training tonight,” Goh said.

         “I didn’t forget.”

         The two of them rubbed the leaves between their fingertips to break the skins and dropped them in the mugs. Returning to the ridge, Jaco held the cup beneath his nose, savoring the sweet aroma.

         “It’s quite amazing, isn’t it?” Goh’s eyes twinkled in the evening light.

         “What’s amazing?”

         Goh swept his arm over the city below. “What our people have become. Before joining the Democratic Union, our islands couldn’t support this many of us. The DU provided us with new farming techniques, medical tools, and of course,” he pointed to the complex of buildings and silos running along the coast, “making the ocean drinkable.” He swirled his earthenware mug. “We even have running water all the way up here.”

         A pang of sadness arose at the mention of the desalinization plant. Jaco fought it down. His ex-boyfriend worked there. He appreciated Goh opening the door to that conversation, but there was nothing to talk about. He’d broken up with that status-digging jerk, and his life had returned to the way it was supposed to be. Now he could focus on the things that mattered, and would tread more cautiously around the next charming man or woman who entered his life.

         He looked up to the sky, the first stars heralding the night. Somewhere above the sunset clouds, Oridion waited, the city where the stars shone day and night and the influence of the constellations was strong. He sipped his tea. “What new ways do you think trading with Tarran will benefit our people?”

         Goh tapped his mug in thought. “The most useful thing for us, I think, would be to display Mobian values. Just by appearing in this meeting of great powers, we show Tarran that the Democratic Union esteems all its nations, no matter how small. As for the long-term effects of the relationship, who knows? The people of Tarran have been developing their own ways of doing things as long as Mobius has. Imagine techniques to preserve food longer, new kinds of tools, improvements to the power grid. It’s hard to say exactly, but fifty years from now, when you’re standing in my place, I’m sure you’ll be telling your apprentice about how the Mobius-Tarran partnership trickled down and changed our lives.”

         Jaco smiled as the sky grew darker, the hues of the clouds deepening. It was a time of change. The stars were aligning, signs were appearing, the spirits were speaking. Now, more than any other time, Jaco’s role as a Dream Keeper mattered.

         Goh nudged him. “We have an early morning tomorrow.”

         “Right.” A bright, early flight across the sea, and a dream training session tonight. Jaco drained the last of his tea, his gaze lingering on the stars, before turning toward the ancient temple’s refurbished side door.

         “Don’t forget to perform each step of the purifying ritual,” Goh called after him, “and don’t stray from the path of the Sacred Dream.”

         Jaco waved over his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah.”

         His mentor chuckled. “And brush your teeth.”

         That night, Jaco dreamed. It was no ordinary dream, but the Sacred Dream, passed down among his people by generations upon generations of Dream Keepers. Hovering above the dark, endless ocean, he turned his eyes to the undefined horizon, waiting for the story to begin. Out there, beyond the edge of the world, the ancestors of his people, the Dream Shapers, flew above the deep, looking for a place to rest their feet.

         For a held breath, all was darkness. Then, a great stream of light burst forth from one end of the sky to the other as the first of the gods, Jacoshen, gave his life to create the Shaper’s Path. The light dispersed into twinkling dust motes, the stars, drifting to their predestined places. And the sky was named Jaco, after the god who gave his life to show the way across it.

         The path beckoned enticingly, its brightness emanating from the ancestral home beyond the horizon. Beyond even the sky. Could Tarran, a world of humans orbiting another sun, be that home Jaco’s ancestors came from? He could go there right now, give up this night of training and find out. Yes, Goh had told him not to stray from the story, and he knew it would set him back, but . . . No. He settled down to watch. Life was flowing as it was supposed to. He wouldn’t interfere with that momentum.

         Through the Shaper’s Path, the remaining gods led the Dream Shapers, flying on manifested wings. The gods glowed like the stars, their majesty vibrating the air around them. When they saw Jaco, they halted and spoke. “Child of ours, behold the beginning. Through our actions, you will know where your people came from and who you are.”

         As soon as the words left their mouths, Gohshen dove beneath the waves. For a moment, all was still. Then the water began to churn and boil, until a great mountain rose from it, reaching toward the sky. The waters receded, leaving behind the Argulan Islands. And the mountain was named Goh, after the god who gave his life to create the land.

         Nayashen looked upon the barren land and cried, “This is not good! Nothing can live on such empty sand and stone.” And she plunged herself into the sea. With her sacrifice, the ocean filled with fish and squid and all the things that live beneath the waves. From the sea, life spread onto the land, giving form to the trees and crops and animals. And the Dream Shapers who followed the gods along the Shaper’s Path descended to the land and made their home, tending the fields and trawling the shallows. And the sea was named Naya, after the god who gave her life to fill it with living things.

         The last god, Isishen, looked down on her people and saw that there was one thing missing. She spoke unto the Argulanians, and said, “Remember what we have done today. Build four shrines, one for the sky, one for the mountain, one for the sea, and one for me. For I will give you a great light, so you may see the beauty of the creation we have given to you and make your lives among it.” And she turned to Jaco, her eyes glowing, and said, “Child of Argulan, remember this day. Lead the pilgrimage to the shrines every year, so that your people will respect the gods and the sacrifices we made so that you may live.” And Isishen turned and ascended into the sky, brightening until she outshone the stars a thousand-thousandfold. And the light was named Isi, after the god who gave her life to create it.

         Jaco settled down on the mountain’s peak, feeling the newly-formed sun’s warmth on his skin. He felt proud of himself, keeping his attention on the story without his subconscious manifesting changes. Time to wake and journal every detail. Still . . . He willed the sun to set, the Shaper’s Path gleaming tantalizingly in the sky once again. Its origin was outside the story, so going there would more likely collapse the vision than show him anything. Surely he wouldn’t be breaking the rule if he went now. The Sacred Dream was over. He just hadn’t left it yet.

         Making his decision, he leaped upward into the Shaper’s Path, speeding through the iridescent dust of the starry road. Scenery spun around him, cities, rivers, deserts, and strange vistas. He passed them by, drawn to the eager, brightening light at the source of the Shaper’s Path.

         His feet touched ground. He stood on bare rock in the shadow of a hill, red light seeping over its indistinct boundaries. Grass and trees reached with blackened leaves toward the sun like starving hands. Was this what was left of the home of the Dream Shapers? Was this why they fled?

         At the top of the hill stood a young woman, the sun fringing her wispy white hair with an incandescent halo and painting an orange crescent on her pale cheek. Though small, she held her shoulders with confidence, eyes to the horizon, an image of youthful innocence—ruined by a sparkling bead of blood trickling down her inner thigh. Jaco recoiled, willing the blood back up beneath her skirt. But the vision denied him, the blood remaining sharp and dark on her pale skin.

         A growl behind him made him jump. He whirled around to find a tan-furred cat slinking toward him, as big as he was, leering at him with carnivorous eyes. With a cry, Jaco bolted up the hill. The chase seemed to last forever, his legs turning to lead. Surely the cat would be upon him at any moment.

         He passed through a pair of great metal doors embossed with jagged patterns. Finally, the top of the hill was in sight. He flailed his arms, trying to get the woman’s attention. “Run! There’s a . . . Get away from here!”

         As he broke the crest of the hill, he froze, the bottom falling out of his stomach. Above the horizon, the half-risen sun loomed like a mountain, a fiery red storm cloud, a gaping cosmic maw. Despite his feet planted on the ground, Jaco felt like he was falling, as if the very world itself were tumbling toward its fiery death.

         Something struck the back of his leg, raking pain across it and sending him toppling forward. For a moment, he saw the cat behind him, its paw glistening, before tumbling down the sunward side of the hill. The world spun around him, inky black grass cutting his arms and staining his clothes. At the bottom, he found himself on his back, looking up at a row of trees. They had no branches on the sides facing him, as if turning their backs in contempt of the intruder.

         He groaned, leaning up on his elbow, then froze. The cat prowled toward him, placing one paw slowly in front of the other. She crouched, her eyes glowing like embers.

         She moved. Instead of pouncing on him, however, she turned sharply and reared up on her hind legs, one front paw above the other. With a blinding flash from her crimson eye, Jaco gasped awake.

         Heart hammering, Jaco pushed aside the sweat-dampened blankets. How long was it before dawn? He stood and approached the window to gauge the constellations.

         When he saw the asterism shining to the north, however, the question of time fled his mind. Ocatta, The Great Cat, reared up to the side, one paw raised above the other. Just like the cat from the dream. But instead of a burning eye, the space between Ocatta’s ear and muzzle was dark and empty.

         What did the vision mean? It had been so vivid, almost more so than the Sacred Dream. Surely it was a sign of . . . something. A warning about the Interstellar Summit? Goh would know. But then again, Goh had told him time and again not to leave the Sacred Dream’s path. Poking around unused corners would cause the manifest structure to weaken. It would lose rigidity and become like any other dream. Was that what had happened? Had he gone into an empty place in the Sacred Dream, his own mind and the spirits passing through his room filling it in with procedural imagery?

         Looking at the darkness where Ocatta’s eye would be, however, he couldn’t believe it was meaningless. It was common for lights to appear and disappear in the sky. Comets, spacecraft, shooting stars . . . His heart thrummed. It was only a few hours until he and Goh would leave for the Interstellar Summit. Jaco would watch the sky, keeping vigilant to what happened around him. When Ocatta’s eye began to glow, he would be ready for whatever he was meant to do.

© Christian D. Horst, 2025, christiandhorst.com

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