Isabella's Dream

There weren't always dragons in the valley. In fact, when I was a child, it was a dramatically different scene than the one before you now. The magical creatures of the valley were all but gone and the rainbow canvas we view today had then turned to dreary shades of gray. Our beloved mystical trees were barren, silent and lifeless while our crystal waters had become murky, stagnant and dangerously infested with parasitic, bottom dwellers. The people were plagued with viruses and diseases, many dying well before their time. Even the air was different back then; always damp, heavy and cold under a gloomy, sunless sky. You see, the light had left the land taking with it all of our magical color and mystical beauty. Our world was on the edge of disaster and in grave danger of falling into complete darkness. Thinking back now, I still get chills remembering the pervasive fear that permeated our days. I am Isabella. My story will be shared for generations to come, but I did not know it back then.

In those days, I was simply a little girl learning to navigate the dark world around me while always dreaming of a brighter, more colorful one. The world of my daydreams was where I spent most of my time conjuring up visions of a land surprisingly similar to what we see here today in our valley. From a very young age, I knew I was somehow different than those around me. I never really felt much like I belonged. I didn't look much different on the outside, but from within, I heard the call to something greater than what I saw in the world everyday. I felt a constant yearning for someone, something, or some place I could never quite grasp or explain. Nonetheless, it occupied my thoughts and guided my path. Others would make fun of me when I spoke of my visions, telling me to get my head out of the clouds and stop acting so strange. They'd say I was just a silly dreamer and I was wasting my time on the impossible. But I didn't care. I believed in the marvelous sights I saw with my mind's eye. I believed these were more than just childish fantasies. And I believed anything was possible and so I kept dreaming and seeking--always wanting to know the truth about that which I saw from within. It would be years before I realized that, within me, I possessed a very powerful gift of magic.

Magic, yes, it surrounds us now in all that we do and all that we see before us in the valley, but back then, it was not the same. For our world had been drained of magic leaving behind a trail of poverty, violence, fear and hopelessness. If magic still existed, we did not know it nor could we see it. For me, magic was spoken of only in the fairy tales or folk songs Grandma Helena shared with us during our Sunday gathering. It was the highlight of my week. I remember climbing up onto the sofa next to her as she grabbed her old wooden guitar, her harmonica and a handful of beat up old storybooks. I could barely sit still, but as soon as she began to read a tale or sing a song with her gentle, angelic voice, I was enthralled. Those stories took me away to grand palaces where I would dance with Nobles amidst feasts so lavish it would make my mouth water. I visited mystical places where unicorns had wings and golden dragons roamed freely across the land. Her wonderful songs lifted my heart with words of hope, love and faith or made me giggle with silly stories of frogs and princesses. But even in those cherished moments, we were wary because to speak of such things could bring retribution from the Guards of the Dark Lord.

In the days of darkness, our every word and deed was regulated by the Dark Lord's Army of Guards and punishment was swift. To defy Him was to put your very life in jeopardy. The Guards thought nothing of destroying the lives of anyone who stepped out of line or dared to defy the tyrannical laws of the land. Our conversations were monitored by the mechanical Sky Scopes that flew throughout the towns and cities recording all of our actions and conversations. Everything we did was monitored to ensure compliance. We were basically considered worker bees toiling tirelessly, controlled by fear and coercion into providing all of the services and material needs for the Dark Lord and his selected Nobles. My parents worked long hours as did the other adults, yet, still we struggled to have the things we needed just to survive and live a decent life. If they did exactly as they were expected, perhaps they could avoid conflict with the Guards. However, anyone who stood up and spoke out against the egregious taxation of their monies, the invasive censorship, or the ever growing list of regulations crippling our freedom and stripping us of our liberty would rapidly see their world crumble around them.

In those times, noncompliance was a dangerous choice. Any who chose to be defiant would be stripped of all belongings and end up homeless, destitute and cast out of the community to be looked upon as a criminal or worse yet, they would be captured and taken away by the Guards sometimes never to be seen again. The homeless were pushed to the outskirts of town where they were ignored or looked down upon with disgust by passersby. They were forced to beg for food and live in rags, sleeping on the ground like the animals. Very few, if any, would ever return to the community. So, in the end, most folks did as was expected and suffered in silence as our liberties slowly dwindled away under the Dark Lord's Reign. I was so young, but even then, the injustice I saw angered me and ignited a flame of passion that made me dream even more and set me on a path to seek the truth about our world and the Dark Lord. I knew the things I saw were wrong, I felt the pain of those who suffered around me, and I vowed then and there to somehow, someday change our dismal world into the magical, mystical land of my visions.