I'd always enjoyed the idea of dragons. They flew high above their problems, free to go anywhere they wanted. Dragons were powerful enough to protect themselves from encroaching forces that would remove that freedom, intelligent and imposing enough to wield a good or evil nature to great effect. I was none of those things. People told me I was ‘special’ as a child. They told me I was so many things, but none of them turned out to be true. I was only complimented when I could be of use to the people I was related to, and otherwise earned only scorn. School wasn't worth the investment since my family was too poor to send me to college, and I ended up a manager at a fast food restaurant at the ripe old age of 19. I was there for three years and I had already learned far more in the adult world than I had from the entirety of my childhood. Defeated each night, bed was my solace. Depression kept me in that bed during my days off. The safety and warmth of my bed kept me sane. Watching videos on the internet and falling down Wikipedia rabbit holes helped me feel that life was worthwhile. I occasionally played games with online friends, but I never felt especially close to them. It all felt so distant and fake. All in all, I wished for something more meaningful. I wished to fly away from the troubles of the world, to keep myself cohesive against whatever life could throw at me. I wanted something different. I needed something different. The old adage goes, "be careful what you wish for," and I didn't understand what that truly meant until I lived it.
I had a strange dream. There was an infinite expanse of night sky all around me. I floated comfortably somewhere inside that space, surveying an infinity of stars. Far behind the stars wove a strange lattice of colored strings that stretched to ends impossibly far from my view. These strings drifted closer while I enjoyed my first true period of rest. Time and distance were fluid concepts in this space. I'd drifted close to one of these strings, pink and shining gold, and it glowed as I reached out to touch it. A gut feeling told me it was meant for me, so I met it with curiosity. Nothing happened. I pulled it to the side and let it go to see what would happen. An all-encompassing tone enveloped me like a too-loud subwoofer at a club. My whole body resonated the same frequency, and my vision went white.
"Ah!" I awoke with a start. The first thing I noticed was that I wasn't in my bed, but lying in a patch of grass. This struck me as strange; had someone carried me out of my bed in a fucked-up robbery gone wrong? A groan of worry carried me to my feet as I rubbed my eyes. My skin felt different. One look at my hands showed some kind of pinkish-yellow scales. Scales... scales! I was taller, now, as well. I gave myself a quick pat-down and found my entire body covered in identical scales. A long, thick tail draped from the base of my spine. I had become some kind of lizard thing! Luckily, the loose fit of my Star Wars pajama shirt and insulated sweatpants kept my scales from catching upon the fabrics. My breathing hastened until I reminded myself that this was a lucid dream. It was my first such experience, and I wasn't at all prepared for how real everything felt. I focused on securing my bearings; understanding would help me calm my quickened pulse. Panic would set in if I couldn't get myself under control. I took deep, panting breaths while I scanned my surroundings: a forest. The trees and wild plants weren't any that I recognized as being local to Lancaster, Pennsylvania, not that I was an expert on plants. I saw familiarity in a distant plume of chimney smoke and distant rising mountains, whose verdant forests and dark stone served to highlight the contrasting smoke. This surely meant fire, and fire meant people. I began walking toward the source of the smoke in hopes of safety.
Along my walk, I remembered what I had read about lucid dreams. One was supposed to be able to control the dream. My outstretched hand failed to grasp an iPhone 11. I accepted this outcome as simple inexperience. Repeated attempts yielded identical results. I continued on my way, wondering why I wasn't able to enact the oft-repeated hallmarks of this experience. Minutes later, the tree line ended alongside a road that led into a settlement of some kind. Buildings of wood and brick exemplified an aged architectural style. People bustled around, some human, some distinctly different. Others had long, pointed ears like fantasy elves. I didn't see anyone that shared my features, however. A horse-drawn carriage passed me as I stood staring on the side of the road. This was something I was familiar with; Amish people lived all over southern Pennsylvania. My sleeping brain had decided to make one thing familiar, at least.
Civilization had been found, which meant I could interact with people now. I tried to manifest myself some shoes of some kind, but that effort failed as well. My scaly toes were getting cold in this air. When I looked up, I noticed a few passersby lingering on me with quizzical looks, with most of them examining my from afar. Given my experience with being oogled by men, I picked a direction and began walking with purpose and a fixed gaze. It wasn't long before I found a few different sources of smoke. One source was a large building near the center of town. Another looked like a rustic hotel, and the final contributor was a shop with a short man pounding on some metal. He was likely a craftsman of some kind. I took note of these features and stepped into the hotel. Securing shoes or conversation would be easier in a place that saw plenty of foot traffic. The hotel’s interior was well kept. Each visible aspect of its construction was cleanly fitted, and planters along the front window sills kept the air clear. There was a dining area off to my right, and a reception counter to my left, where an elven woman stood attentively behind the counter. I summoned my wherewithal and broached the awkward question. "Excuse me, but could you tell me what town this is?"
She looked confused by my question and slowly shook her head. Words followed in a language I didn't recognize as she, too, looked me over and cocked an eyebrow. "You can't understand me?" The blank stare continued. "Well, shit." So much for a restful dream. The receptionist, I assumed, gestured to a board behind her that featured a system of labeled tags hanging from small hooks. She was likely asking me if I wanted a room. A different language certainly meant a different currency, so I excused myself and left the hotel. My hands and feet were freezing. Surveying my options told me that a blacksmith likely had a forge or something, which would warm my feet. I figured it would be harmless to spend some time nearby to warm up, and I could use that time to figure out how to overcome this language barrier. As I approached, the short man was yelling at a taller, younger man and made a dismissive gesture. The younger one protested, but ultimately left the store in a huff. I felt like I had just witnessed someone being fired. Sidling over to the side of the forge, but keeping a respectful distance from the smith, I tried to ask if I could warm myself next to the forge. Using gestures such as shivering, pointing to my feet, and warming my hands helped. He didn't understand me either, and merely grunted and rolled his eyes before returning to his work.
The warmth of the forge was helping as I huddled next to it. I looked over my feet, no longer pained with cold, only pained with unfamiliarity. The scales thinned over the tops of them and ended in short ivory claws. My hands were of similar structure. I admittedly found the appearance cool. A shout from nearby snapped me out of my investigation, and I looked up to see the blacksmith standing beside me. He pointed at a rack of firewood, pointed at the forge, finally pointed at me. I blinked; I was apparently to earn the most meager of keeps. I complied with his request and he returned to his work, closing the metal door once there was enough wood inside the forge. This felt like a cue to return to my thoughts, so I did so without hesitation. My tail occupied my attention now as it curled against me on its own volition. It was oddly sensate. I realized that I kind of looked akin to a dragon-person. I made a note to find some water or a mirror so that I could see my face before I woke up.
I wondered what I would do after this blacksmith's patience ran dry. If I were pegged as homeless, people likely wouldn't enjoy my presence. Shoes were something I needed to acquire to make my way around, since I couldn't fly. It felt unfortunate to be closer to a dragon, but to lack the wings of one. Starting with the closest option felt like it was going to be my best bet. I took a chance and attempted to communicate that I needed shoes to the blacksmith, who stared me down for an unnerving amount of time. He gestured to his current projects, which looked like weapons, and pointed at a hammer and an anvil. Some things never changed; if pounding metal without skill allowed me to secure shoes, then I was willing to try. Time passed amid endless clanging, and after receiving many abrupt corrections of my technique and approach, I felt I was starting to get the hang of it. I was no longer hammering the metal too thin at the edges. That had been the greatest source of the short man's bother because it meant he had to reheat the metal and correct it himself. A slightly lumpy, wavy hammer head took shape in front of me despite having a mold to aid my shaping of the tool.
The man took the metal in his hand and looked it over with a sigh. He muttered something, shrugged, and set the weapon aside. His attention fell to me next with a palm finding his chest. A single word was huffed in my direction: "Keff.” Keff... It seemed to be his name.
"Madison," I replied with an identical gesture and returned to my work. I was now attempting to shape a sword. The making of weapons told me this blacksmith likely wasn't one of the Amish sort I had seem around. It was then I realized their style of dress was not unique among the people here; they must have been average citizens. Horses and wagons were likely how people got around in this town. I felt humbled by my mind's autonomous creations as I hammered further at the metal with a hit quickly followed by a tap. That was how Keff taught me to do it. This technique allowed me to smooth out small imperfections to my overall strikes. My stomach eventually started to growl as the afternoon sun sat low in the sky. Customers had come and gone all day, but traffic slowed in a blessing to my aching arms. Keff took the hammer and sword from my hands and carried the day's projects inside the shop. He crossed his arms as he looked me over once more. His hardened gaze never seemed to relent, even in the midst of miming sleep and gesturing toward the town. Taken aback, I looked out over the town and felt my expression fall. I shook my head.
A deadpan look of disapproval bored into me. I could feel Keff scrutinizing me. He relented after an intense minute of study and slapped two weighty gold coins on the anvil I had worked over. My eyes went wide; gold was worth a fortune. Moreover, I had either done a job worthy of pay, or he felt sorry for me. I wondered if both sentiments were true as I held the coins to my chest as a gesture of gratitude. This seemed to be the response Keff expected. He gestured to the sunset, then to the empty sky opposite of it, and pointed down at the ground. I had apparently done so well that I was being requested to return. I eagerly nodded my head, agreeing to the prospect without a second thought. Keff took one of the coins back, gestured at my feet and again to a nearby building. The coin was then held toward the inn I had visited this morning and finally given back to me. With that, he went inside and closed the shop doors. I heard heavy locks signaling the end of the conversation. My mission, which I had accepted, was to get myself some clothes and a room for the night. I opted for a meal first.
It didn't take long to secure my passage into a hypothetical tomorrow. A hearty supper of bread and vegetable soup were boons to my empty stomach, a bath a boon to my sore muscles. I had managed to communicate that I was going to eat and come back with more appropriate clothing, which eased the staff's concerns enough to let me secure a room. They expressed that breakfast was included in the price of my room. I found this agreeable and left to buy shoes from the previously indicated store. It was mercifully open at this hour. A short while later, after some aggressive measuring and assertion of color and style, I emerged wearing a pleasant green overdress appointed by an ivory white apron, both covering a matching white blouse and under-breeches. I had forgone a bonnet in favor of a thin pair of gloves to keep my hands warm while away from the forge. Best of all, some basic brown work boots now covered my feet, complete with a set of warm socks. It was all far more comfortable than I had expected. I imagined that my scales protected me from the scratchy feeling the material would likely invoke against skin. I thanked the tailor and retreated to my hotel room. It was small, but it featured a cabinet, an oil lamp, a chair and a bed that was approximately twin-sized. It would be comfortable enough as long as the other patrons kept themselves reasonably quiet.
I inspected the bed for bugs and thankfully found none. Flopping into the recently fluffed mattress, I took my shoes off and reached for my phone out of habit. It wasn't there. This realization sent a chill through my spine and my stomach. A harrowing thought intruded into my mind: this had all felt very real. I didn't feel like I was sleeping. I hadn't woken up yet; it felt like I had dreamt an entire day. No, there was no way this could be real. A grunt of exertion signaled my determination to relax as I stretched myself over the bed. This body still felt foreign to me, but this unfamiliarity didn't seem to bother me. Keff had been kind today. Not many people would see an obviously homeless, foreign person and offer them a job, let alone pay them for it. The gold hadn't gone nearly as far as I thought it would have, but I was still in a much better position than I had been this morning. I had to remind myself that this was a dream and the only thing that mattered was my emotional state. A quick poll of my feelings unearthed confusion, uncertainty, and a small undercurrent of wonder. I knew myself well; I knew that if I immersed myself in the scope of my emotions, they would trend in a downward direction. Settling upon wonder led me to set myself in the chair so I could look out the window.
Candlelit street lamps rimmed the town square and the main streets that branched outward like a wheel. Being on the second floor granted me the view of twinkling lights in the distance. This wasn't a huge settlement by any means, but I estimated a population of three to five thousand. I rested my head atop folded arms and watched residential lights extinguish as the night wore on. By what I imagined 9 or 10pm, I finally decided to take a look up at the sky. My previous dream returned to me in an instant. Medieval-style life was rife with difficulty, to be sure, but the lack of light pollution made up for it all. I felt content as I watched the sky stretch endlessly beyond me, imagining the strings I had seen in my dream. Fatigue hit me all at once now that I let myself relax. I returned to bed and held my pillow to my chest with a sigh as I closed my eyes. If nothing else, sleep would wake me up. I would wake in my own bed again, one that smelled like me, one that held my familiar comforts... I decided that I would call out of work tomorrow. My dream-day provided kindness in a way that felt entirely unfamiliar. Taco Bell could do without me for a day. Stars danced over the backs of my eyelids until I finally fell asleep.