Lavender Dream

Emma has always loved the scent of lavender. It reminded her of the peaceful summers she spent in the country with her grandmother. There, there was a thick field with purple flowers, magic and stories. So when she spotted a candle with a lavender scent hidden in a small antique shop in the city center, she quickly bought it without knowing it was more than just a scent. That night, she lit the candle next to her bed. The scent warmed and calmed the room, sinking into a pillow with a book in my lap. The soft flickering of the candle and lavender air pulled her eyelids down until the book slid out of her hands and fell asleep.

She opened her eyes for the golden sunlight and swarmed around the Howley curtains. The room was unknown - cared for in soft pastel colors, Ivy stayed on the wall, with a small bird sitting on the windowsill singing a gentle melody.

Emma sat on the bed. She wasn't afraid - everything felt peaceful, like the stories she always knew.

"You are awake," one voice said.

She turned and found a young man at the door. He was wearing a lightly folded linen shirt with a branch of lavender placed behind one ear. His eyes were wonderful, and somehow they glowed as if they were full of starry light.

"Where am I?" She asked. He smiled. "You're in Lismere. You've crossed the Dream Gate."

"Dream Gate?"

He was pointing to a still flickering candle at the bedside table. "This candle opens dreams...but only if your mind remembers."

Emma looked out the window. Furthermore, an endless lavender field stretched from watercolor blue under the sky. The children flew with the flowers. The gentle breeze wears the earth's scent of honey and sun.

"This is fine," she whispered.

The boy named Finn held out his hand. "come. You should see more. “

They went through a field where sang creeks and trees whispering their names. The old lady handed Emma a small star-like pastry.

"It's a Dreamberry tart," she said with a wink. "Only here grows. The taste of their happiest memories."

Emma bites - and suddenly she becomes a child again, hunting fireflies barefoot in the garden with her grandmother. She laughed and wiped her tears away.

Lysmere times were different. Every day felt like an eternal moment. She danced, studied and learned the names of stars. She and Finn spent everyone together - or dreams together. He showed her the secret place of the Empire: the library in which the book was written during the dream, the trees that bloomed when they told her the story, the self of her true self, not the mirror lake that does not reflect her face. But as the lavender candles burn deeply every night, Emma began to feel it - pulling her back.

One morning, the sky was colored silver instead of gold. The air was soft like a sigh.

"You'll be there soon," Finn said quietly as he sat in the river.

Emma nodded. "I can feel it."

He took her hand. "You forget most of it. This is the dreamer's path. But... maybe... if you smell the lavender again, you really smell... part of this place is coming back."

Tears of tears. "Shall we see you again?"

Finn smiled. "The candle only works once. But a dream... you have your own path. Who knows?"

When the lavender smelled deeper and her vision blurred, Emma was close to Finn until it slid down like a mist.

She woke up in her bed and peered through the curtains. The candle was burning out on the wax. Wax is a small stick of smoke. Her book was still open to her breasts. Everything was - but nothing felt the same.

Emma sat slowly, her heart full of things she couldn't name.

years have passed. She grew up, traveled, and found happiness in the guards. But sometimes, when she lighted a lavender candle at night, she either heard the song sing in the distance, or saw a boy with star-eyed eyes in her dreams.

And sometimes, I wonder why it reminded me of the story of whispering the ligaments and flower trees that they dance.