Finding some answers.

The short ride to campus gives you time to focus your thoughts and develop some semblance of a plan. Although things with your sister have been proceeding nicely--hell, amazingly well to be honest--but the discussion you just had with her reinforced just how much you still don't know about your dreaming abilities. Where did they come from, why do you have them and, maybe most importantly, what is the black storm you've run into on a couple of occasions in the dream realm?

You pull into an empty parking spot in front of the library. Closing your eyes, you picture in your mind the actions you're about to take. You're going to enter the library and search for Asgitsa, starting in the room with dream literature and then methodically hunting through every room in the building, tearing down shelves and walls if you have to. Surely the librarians should know who she is, but if she's not currently working you doubt they'd be willing to give you her schedule or a home address. They'd probably think you're a stalker...which you kind of are at the moment. Maybe you could....

Your passenger side door opens and slams in quick succession. Your eyes snap open and your head whips to the side, only to find a short, dark-haired girl sitting beside you with a great white smile plastered on her face.

"Nice car," Asgitsa says brightly. "Do you like coffee? Why don't we head down to the shop down the street and we can have that date you asked me about last week? Your treat, of course." She faces forward, ready to go.

You stare at her, agog. You'd been prepared for a long search, given the difficulty you'd had previously but instead, she'd known you'd come to find her first thing on Monday morning and had been lying in wait, ready to pounce as soon as you arrived. And now, the petite girl is sitting next to you like nothing's weird and oddly, beyond the initial shock, you're not overly surprised at all. You've only met her twice before, but the capriciousness and playful nature of her personality has come through loud and clear.

"You know, we'll get there a lot faster if you push some pedals," she gently teases. She waves down at the floor beneath you. "The gas is the one on the right. You might want to try it."

Putting the car in gear, you pull out of your spot and shake your head. "You're an odd one, you know that right?"

She nods, unconcerned. "Yep! I've been told that. Better than the alternative, though." Asgitsa leans back in her seat and begins bobbing her head in time to music that only she can hear, her mouth moving silently as she sings along with her own internal melody. You take this to mean she's done talking for the moment.

She's the most unusual person I've ever met, you think. And that doesn't even take into account her ability to enter the dream corridor too. I know next to nothing about her and I feel like I'm being led around by the nose. The next thought runs past so fast that you almost miss it. Why am I so attracted to her?

The local coffee shop is just off campus and popular among both the faculty and students. It's close to mid-morning so much of the early rush has finished but the place is still packed, tables covered by textbooks, laptops and other scholarly paraphernalia. As you wait in line to place your order, Asigitsa continues to live in her own little world, bopping along soundlessly and occasionally swinging her hands around in what looks like an imaginary drum solo performed by invisible drumsticks. She's wearing a pair of blue jeans and a tight, form-fitting t-shirt emblazoned with the logo from the band, Eurythmics, cups her smallish breasts.

Normally you like girls with a bit more meat on their bones, but you can't help thinking, Damn! She looks great in that shirt. Sweet dreams are definitely made from those. Instantly, her dark hair flies across her shoulders in a black wave as she looks over her shoulder at you, her captivating brown eyes alight with smirking laughter. You freeze. Holy fuck, can she read my mind? She spins back on her toes and you're left staring at the back of her head. I'm so confused, you think morosely. But she's so damn intriguing.

Eventually, you both make it to the front of the line and after placing your orders--an Italian roast with two creams and one sugar for you, a hazelnut mocha latte with extra whip cream for her--you find an empty table tucked into a far corner of the establishment and sit. Asgitsa takes a sip of her drink, the whip cream sticking to her upper lip. A quick swipe of her tongue cleans the white film completely.

The diminutive girl appears unhurried, at ease and you finally can't take it anymore. You've been flying by the seat of your pants for the past week, first discovering your new abilities and then learning how they work. Having a good time with them, sure, but also groping around like a blind man in a dark room. "What the hell is happening to me?" you blurt out, a bit more loudly than you'd planned.

Asgitsa's back becomes rigid, "Oh, my. Okay," she says, placing her latte on the table. "Getting right to the point, I respect that. Of course, normally on a date a girl likes a little foreplay first before getting to the main action. A little more subtlety, perhaps. Helps get us more in the mood to have a good time." She shifts in her seat, sliding her whole body forward and clasping her hands together, her face scrunching together in imitation of somebody about to begin a serious conversation. "You may want to remember that advice for tonight."

Your brain blinks. How does she know about my date with Shelly.... But Asgitsa has already moved on.

"Do you know how the universe was created?" she asks like it's the most normal question ever.

You fold your arms across your chest, wondering what games she's playing at. "Do you want the scientific answer or the religious one?" you reply.

She pouts and waves her hand dismissively. "Neither. I want the real answer."

You fight the urge to sigh. You take a gulp of your coffee, cursing as the still hot liquid burns your throat as it goes down. "No, why don't you educate me," you say and Asgitsa nods her head as if you've given the right answer.

She holds her arms out wide. "Well, before everything in existence...existed...the gods lived in their own realm, a place of infinite possibilities and malleable in a way that we can't fully understand." She stops and lowers her arms, her head tilting as a stray though hits her. "Well, 'lived' is probably not the right word, at least not in context of that particular reality. Inhabited...persisted...endured...abided, maybe? Whatever, no need to get caught up by semantics."

Asgitsa pushes her cup to one side of the table and points at it. "Anyway, in this world, the gods began to dream. And they found that what they dreamed in their world became substance and truth in a whole other place, a brand new reality." She sets your cup on the other side of the table and connects the two with a straw. "The were amazed by what they created and so they continued dreaming, crazy dreams. I mean, who dreams about things like the speed of light, gravitational forces and molecular interactions? It's not normal. But the gods are not like us and they designed things as they saw fit, using their dreams to fashion the foundations of this universe."

Despite yourself, you're captivated as the brown-skinned girl weaves her insane story into a tapestry, her hushed tone drawing you in like a moth to a flame. "Time doesn't mean much to the gods, but after a very long period of dreaming, they discovered something that shocked even them. Their creation was not stagnant. It would change and grow without their prompting, essentially becoming more than they had dreamed. Their control over the alternate reality, our reality, waned. They lost more and more as it took on a life of its own, until we've reached the point we have today, where their influence can still be felt but their ability to make significant changes is greatly diminished. It's like they're writing on thousands of layers of carbon paper and the only changes that come through is what appears on the very bottom layer." She pauses and looks thoughtful. "That analogy kind of got away from me."

You take the opportunity to interject. "Fascinating. But what the hell is happening to me?"

She leans back in her chair and crossing her legs, huffing through her nose. "I'm getting there, Mr. Impatient Pants," she says, her voice returning to its normal timbre. She tugs at the bottom of her shirt, momentarily distracting you as the curves of her breasts beneath the surface prove that she's not wearing a bra.

"As I was saying...," Asgitsa shifts back into storytelling mode. "While different from us in more ways than can be imagined, there is one trait that we share. When we dream, sometimes we have nightmares."

"The black maelstrom," you say, remembering your encounters, and her eyes darken. She gives a minute tip of her head.

"Just so. Like everything else they dreamed, their nightmares didn't disappear upon awaking. The creature settled in connection between dreaming and waking, and began wreaking havoc upon the parts of our reality that the gods didn't want destroyed. But as I've said, their power over what happens here has ebbed and they soon realized they wouldn't be able to combat their foe on their own. So they recruited allies among my ancestors, hundreds of generations ago, people who were more connected to the gods' dream world than normal."

She points at the straw between your cups. "You see the connection works both ways. While awake, our senses ground us in our reality. They kinda have to for survival purposes. But asleep, our minds can wander between worlds, never really settling in either. So the gods lent their powers to a select few mortals and gave them the ability to mold dreams and fight the darkness, the nighttime terror, stalking their creations. It feeds on dark thoughts and desires, hungering for and exacerbating anything that leads to destruction and despair. We are the weapons, forged in dreams, that can fight back against the darkness."

You shudder, remembering the last time you encountered what Asgitsa was describing, where it was coaxing a man to give up on life. "And I'm one of these warriors? That's why I'm able to control dreams like I am?" Disbelief coats your words.

Asgitsa picks up her latte and resumes drinking it. "Yeah, welcome to the club. It wasn't exactly what I had planned for my life either, but my Grandma didn't give me much choice. And now I'm returning the favor with you!" she adds sweetly. She shrugs. "You probably have some an ancestor who long ago belonged to our tribe and that's where your ability arises from."

That's true. Your grandmother from your dad's side had always told stories about having Native Americans back in the roots of your family tree, but you'd never really paid much attention. Apparently you should have. "And our powers in dreams?"

"Ironically, it's our connection to the real world that gives us such abilities when in dreams, while the gods are weaker. Our bond to this plane of reality gives us an inside track on manipulating dreams that originate from here. It's one of our few advantages against the blackness."

"Is that why what I change in dreams stays changed when I wake up?"

For the first time, you see Asgitsa's composure slip. Her brown eyes widen and her whole body tenses, her only movement coming from a slight tremble in the hand holding her drink. She clears her throat. "That's not...it's not supposed to....What do you mean?"

"I mean," you say bluntly, "that if I change what someone looks like in their dreams, they begin to look like it in real life. Or if I alter their thinking or personality, it bleeds into how they act when they wake up. Maybe not completely, like it was in the dream, but there's definitely a lasting effect."

Something changes in her demeanor, a wariness that wasn't there before. She knows something, but you can't read what is is.

Abruptly, she stands up, leaving her empty cup on the table. "Uhmm...I'm sorry but I really need to go. I need to call...need to talk to....Goodbye!" The small girl is off in a flash, weaving through tables and chairs like a ballerina.

"Wait!" you shout, uncaring about the attention you draw. "You can't go! I need more answers!"

Asgitsa pauses at the door and then turns. She flashes you a smile, the old, overflowing energy you've routinely seen from her returning. "I guess you'll have to take me on another date then, won't you?"

Then she's gone and you're left more confused and flummoxed than before.