In the silent embrace of the night, a sudden wakefulness seized me, a sharp contrast to the stillness that enveloped the house. Lying in the darkness, I was acutely aware of Jamie's absence beside me, the void left by his presence now filled with the soft, rhythmic breathing indicating his return and subsequent retreat to another room. The realisation stung, a silent witness to the growing chasm between us, made all the more palpable by Duke's choice to abandon my side in favour of Jamie's. "Traitor," I muttered under my breath, the word a playful jab at the dog's disloyalty, though it did little to lighten the mood.
My mind, a tempest of thoughts and emotions, struggled to find clarity amidst the confusion. The events of the afternoon hung over me like a surreal cloud, their reality questioned by the bizarre nature of what I had experienced. Dr. Glenda De Bruyn's advice on lucid dreaming and astral projection echoed in my memory, a beacon of hope in my quest to face and conquer the shadows of my past. Yet, the boundary between dream and reality had never felt more blurred.
Compelled by a need for confirmation, my hand moved almost of its own accord, sliding under the pillow to seek out the tangible proof of my experiences. The cool metal of the device, a solid reassurance against the pads of my fingers, banished any lingering doubt of dream-induced fantasies. Its presence was a physical reminder of the day's undeniable reality, a bridge between the world I had traversed and the one I now found myself trying to navigate.
With a heart pounding a frantic rhythm of excitement and apprehension, I cradled the device, its weight a grounding force amidst the swirling tide of my thoughts. Stealthily, I made my way across the hallway, each step a deliberate move to avoid disturbing the fragile peace of the night. The study, a sanctuary of sorts, awaited, its familiar confines offering a semblance of control.
The reality of the situation, the undeniable truth of the device's existence, and by extension, the events it had precipitated, was both exhilarating and terrifying. I stood at the threshold of understanding, poised between the known and the unknowable, driven by a desire to uncover the secrets it held. The night, a silent witness to my turmoil, offered no answers, only the promise of more questions. Yet, in that moment of solitude, with the device in hand, I felt an unwavering resolve to pursue the truth, wherever it might lead.
Standing before the wall, a sense of déjà vu enveloped me, tinged with an undercurrent of apprehension. The memory of the device's previous demand for blood lingered, a painful reminder of the tangible cost of accessing the extraordinary. My finger hovered over the button, a moment of hesitation borne of uncertainty and the unknown consequences of my actions. Yet, the pull of discovery, the allure of unravelling the mysteries that lay beyond, proved irresistible. With a mix of trepidation and resolve, I pressed the button.
The immediate response, void of further blood collection, was a spectacle that defied explanation. A tiny orb of light, seemingly imbued with the essence of another universe, burst forth and collided with the wall, blossoming into a vibrant tableau of swirling colours. The beauty of it was overwhelming, a visual symphony that captured the essence of wonder itself. As I watched, a wave of exhilaration swept through me, a confirmation of the incredible reality I was a part of. It is real. It was a thought that echoed through my mind, a mantra that solidified my resolve and silenced any lingering doubts.
Compelled by a need for tangible proof of this reality, I grabbed a book from the bookcase, an anchor to the world I knew. With the book clutched firmly in hand, I stepped through the portal, crossing the threshold into Clivilius once more. The contrast was immediate and profound. The vibrant gateway behind me illuminated the surroundings with an ethereal glow, casting long, dancing shadows across the alien landscape. Yet, beyond the immediate vicinity, darkness reigned supreme, a blanket of obscurity that veiled the unknown.
The silence of Clivilius was an unsettling departure from the familiar cacophony of life on Earth. The absence of natural sounds, the void where the bustle of life should have been, lent an eerie quality to the darkness. The sky above, devoid of stars or moon, stretched out in an endless expanse of nothingness, a canvas of emptiness that seemed to swallow any sense of comfort or familiarity.
Despite the awe-inspiring spectacle of the portal's colours, the oppressive solitude of the Clivilian wasteland quickly became too much to bear. With a sense of urgency, I placed the book on the ground, a physical testament to my visit, a link between worlds. Then, driven by an instinctual desire for the safety and familiarity of my own world, I dashed back through the portal, the colours enveloping me once more as I fled the darkness of Clivilius.
The transition back into the mundane setting of my study was jarring. The vibrant gateway to Clivilius, with its swirling colours and promise of an unknown world, had vanished as if it were never there. Now, the wall stood silent, its blandness mocking the incredible journey I had just undertaken. It was a reminder of the dual realities I was now living; one foot in the extraordinary, the other in the ordinary. The faint sound of Jamie's snoring, a reminder of the life I was momentarily stepping back into, urged me to move with stealth, to preserve the peace of the household even as my mind raced with the implications of my discovery.
As I tiptoed back to my room, the images and revelations from Clivilius cascaded through my thoughts, a torrent of visions that bolstered my resolve. The knowledge that Clivilius was real, that my role in whatever plan Clive had was not just figments of an overactive imagination but a calling, filled me with a sense of purpose I hadn't realised I was missing. The desolate landscapes of Clivilius, so stark and unforgiving in their beauty, now seemed like a canvas awaiting transformation, a challenge to which I was being summoned.
Slipping back into bed, the physical exhaustion from the day's events was quickly overshadowed by a mental weariness, a saturation of thoughts and emotions that demanded release in sleep. And yet, there was a comforting certainty in the midst of it all. The conviction that Clivilius needed me, that Clive had a plan for me, was a beacon in the chaos, a guiding light that promised direction and purpose.
As sleep enveloped me, it was not the escape it usually was but a continuation of the journey, a deeper exploration into the possibilities that lay in the orange sands of Clivilius. My mind, unburdened by the doubts and fears that often plagued it, began to construct new realities, new visions of what could be. The barren nothingness of Clivilius's landscape gave way to grand constructions, to cities that rose from the sands, shaped by the force of my will and the needs of a world that had reached out across the impossible divide to find me.
Tonight, there would be no nightmares, no shadows lurking at the edge of my dreams. Instead, there was creation, a building of futures in the sleep of the present, a testament to the power of belief and the reality of the worlds beyond our own. In the quiet of the night, with the gentle backdrop of Jamie's presence a room away, I found a peace I hadn't known I was searching for, a calm in the eye of the storm that was my life and the lives of those across the threshold in Clivilius.
