Marble Doors.

No one is particularly fond of nightmares. Ivory Garner is certainly not an exception either. As of late, they have been plaguing her sleep every time the young women closed her eyes for rest. Tonight, is no different. Just like the recent sleep terrors, the scenery remains unchanged. Moonlight shines on a smooth pathway of rocks that leads into deep dark woods, where giant trees loom high in the sky above. Their limbs and branches hang over the trail ominously, casting eerie shadows all around. Wind whistles fiercely, rustling leaves and scrubs, giving the illusion of dancing figures flailing their arms wildly and uncontrolled.

In accordance with the previous bad dreams, Ivy finds herself journeying down the road and entering the forest once again. Greenwood echoes spookily as animals and insects called out, sounding far too close for her liking. As of now, nothing is odd or threatening. All seems calm, but the twenty-eight-year-old knows better.

Soon enough, a wounded fox will cross the path leaving a bloody trail to where it’ll succumb to the deadly gash in its neck. After that, an otherworldly ship will fly over the wooded area, its massive propellers whirring loudly, causing a chain reaction of bats to disembark from their perches. They'll swarm and block the light of the moon above, giving dark a chance to reign while roots and thorny vines will creep along it’s pine covered earth to nip at my heels.

Luckily having been through this multiple times, Ivory focuses her attention on trekking onwards, using her forearms to shield and forcing her legs forward as the foreseen events unfold in a timely manner. Every step feels heavier and harder, brushes and twigs grabbing at the brunettes’ ankles, attempting to pull her into the forage where she’s been dragged over a dozen times before, until awakening in bed abruptly, screaming and covered in sweat.

However, this time her sheer stubbornness and refusal to allow that to occur once more, drives the women further down the uneven, rocky track. Minutes become tedious as Ivy suppresses the urge to give up, her limbs wanting nothing more than to quit fighting the lively forest. Even if it means being pulled in and forced to wake up for a thirtieth time in a row...

No, she growls.

There’s a reason I can’t shake this nightmare. Something is waiting for me at the end of this road and throwing in again will only stall it another night. At that thought, the young women persist, empowering herself physically enough to whack away the last of the bats and vines. With a final shove forward, Ivory’s bare feet meet cold, frosted ground, and her vision clears as every large bat quickly returns to the shadowed woods behind.

Almond shaped hazel eyes scan a stunning, frozen pond stretching out ahead. It’s glass like surface is illuminated by white rays of moonlight, vivid and bright, now cleared of forest thicket. Wow is the first thing that crosses Ivy’s mind. The next is, this dream is very lucid, as her toes tingle from the chilly flooring. Though having grown up in colder temperatures, she easily ignores it and shuffles onto the ice instead. Suddenly, the glassy surface lights up magically, glowing a luminous blue at every step made. Continuing further across the pond, Ivory glides easily, using her feet to shape circles and squiggly lines of vibrant rich blue as she goes on.

A few minutes pass, until once more, the young women mishaps upon something strange. Having expected the peace and serenity would only last so long, she takes a deep breath in preparation. Moments later, she slows to a stop at the edge of an icy fence that twists together beautifully, reflecting moonlight along the chilled lake. Its enclosure is circular and waist height, no bigger than 50 feet around and encasing a grand marble fountain within. Assuming she must enter to beat this nightmare-slash-dream, Ivy peers along the fence line to find a gate, and locating it rather fast, she glides her way over and swiftly unlatches the hook to enter.

In doing so, a small chime rings out, reverberating and seeming to go on for miles. That’s concerning… hopefully I’m not ringing the dinner bell for some sort of abominable snowman or the likes. Pursing her lips, the brunette glances around in suspicion, before ultimately shrugging it off and coasting over to the fountain. Unsurprisingly, it’s gurgling water from the lake below even though its frozen. This is dreamland slash nightmare realm, so logically, or technically nonlogically, it makes sense.

“I was wondering when you’d make it.” The unexpected voice makes Ivory jump in fright, her feet slipping in reaction and throwing off all balance.

Everything after that seems to happen in slow motion.

Brown-green orbs, meet crystal, clear blue for a very brief period… then the twenty-eight-year-old goes legs up, landing flat on her butt and tailbone. “Fuck sakes.” She groans, a sting of pain and embarrassment settling over her.

Roughly ten seconds pass when the newcomer breaks the silence. “Would you like a hand up or would you prefer to do it yourself?”

With a long sigh, Ivy shakes off the mortification and nerves, reaching for the hand in front of her and pushing up as they pulled. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

“You’re- ““I’m not.” Cutting her off and shaking a head of brown curls. “I just appear as him. It’s a magic trick to calm those who find me.”

“Oh.” That makes sense. “Do you run into a lot of others in their dreamscapes such as this?”

“Not particularly.” The accented voice admits as their lean figure leads the way to one of four benches over-looking the fountain. “Every person is different, so reaching out takes knowing when, where and how to communicate without outright disbelief or an utter breakdown on their part.”

Ah. “Mine so happen to be here with Sherlock Holmes?”

The detective look-a-like sits and admires the work of art spouting water across from him. “It was this or Jacques Cousteau.”

Ivory’s hardly surprised, having been passionate and slightly obsessed with the French Explorers work. “What should I call you? I’d prefer your real name if you have one.”

“Xeno Tempus.”

“Is that Latin?”

“Yes. Greek too.”

Out of nowhere, a familiar bark echoes over the frozen pond and immediately, Ivy searches her surroundings, catching sight of her best friend. “Sasquatch!” The large Bernese Mountain Dog trotting over to its owner and sitting properly as she gives him a good ear rub and scratch over the multicolored fur running down his body. Tied to his neck is a rope and pouch, something is bundled inside and tied off with a ribbon. “Is someone making you run errands?” Her dog nuzzles his head in her legs happily in conformation. “I bet you loved that, huh.” More head rubbing tells her that he did.

“He’s been here since your second visit. Quite a clever dog. He knew you’d make it through eventually, after failing to save you from the Crawling Woods in your first go.” Xeno informs the young women, who returns her attention back to the mystery beside her and handing him the tied sack.

With another scratch of affection, Ivy smiles fondly. “Sounds like Sass. When he left me a few weeks ago I was relieved. Seeing him yelp and get dragged off into black woods away from me our first time made my heart weep. I’m glad he made it somewhere safe.”

Xeno turns the package in his hands, slowly untying the ribbon and opening its suede bag. “You know, Miss Garner… most people would of gave up after their first few attempts. It took 34 tries until you succeeded.”

“I didn’t know I had the option to quit.” She says, earning a genuine laugh from the enigma. “Though, something told me I needed to get through to the other side. It sat in my gut day and night… a feeling of deeper meaning to the dark, scary path.”

“Sensing such a thing is a rare quality in humans. Consider yourself lucky to be granted a power like that.”

It’s a power? “You’re saying it wasn’t just in my head?”

“Not all of it. Where we are now is an extension of you, in the depths of your mind and soul. From here, we can go anywhere.” The Sherlock imitator reveals. “Well, if you have me that is.”

Ivy stores the newfound information away and hoping to obtain more from this puzzling being. “Consequently, if this sense of mine lead me here, that means there’s a bigger picture, right?”

Finally, Xeno pulls free a hand size piece of obsidian, engraved with detailed carvings and symbols. “Correct. In fact, it’s all about the bigger picture.”

Observing his nimble fingers trace the markings on the black glass like stone, the brunette can’t help but shift closer. “I play a part in it?”

He hums knowingly. “Indeed. You are one of four who are being gathered.”

“What about Sasquatch?” She asks, his head resting on her lap in content.

“It wouldn’t be a proper adventure without an animal companion, now, would it?” Not Sherlock remarked, giving the large dog a gentle pat.

At least I’ll have Sass. “I suppose not… so, an adventure, huh? Does that trinket in your hand play a part too?”

A grin stretches on Xeno Tempus’s lips as he tosses the item playfully in the air and catching it smoothly, tucking it away in his long black coat as he stands. “It does. I’ll that explain later though, at the meeting. We’re to leave soon if we want to arrive on time.”

The late twenty-year-old copies his actions, before peering around unsurely. “How are we to get there?”

“Through the fountain of course.” He says as if the answer is obvious and taking a few steps to close his distance to it. With a wave of his hand, the large marble cranes and koi stop spraying and whatever water in its pooling area drains swiftly. The look-a-like steps over its ledge and holds out his arm to help Ivory, who easily follows, her dog only a paw behind.

Inside the fountain, Xeno shuffles towards its center and reaches for one of the cranes legs. He glides his hand down and presses a sequence of hidden knots carved there, opening a narrow passageway. A look over his shoulder confirms Ivory Garner and Sasquatch accompanying him inside. As the cross into its threshold, florescent mushrooms scattered along hardened dirt walls light their way, and far, far at the end of the tunnel, an opening of light awaits.

To be continued.