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A Dream through Time: a collection of stories from past to future

A Dream through Time: a collection of stories from past to future

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A Dream through Time: a collection of stories from past to future

308 Seiten
5 Stunden
Nov 27, 2012


A collection of short stories that takes us on a journey through time. Starting at the dawn of time with fantasy tales, it travels foward to modern time with contemporary tales to the future with sci fi tales then end the universe.

Nov 27, 2012

Über den Autor

I write a wide variety of things. Poetry, sci fi, fantasy, YA, historical adcenture, scripts, and things that don't quite fit anywhere else. Google my name, or type it into any webseach opage to find several litings of my publication.

Ähnlich wie A Dream through Time


A Dream through Time - Lenora Popa


A collection of stories from past to future

By Lenora Popa

Copyright Lenora Popa 2012

Published by smashwords


In the endless time before the Gods were Gods, and the universe was chaotic and unformed; blazing young suns emerged blazed fiercely. Tumbling forth from their nebulous wombs in burning fury and youthful rage, they burned in the great and open space of the sky. Stars spewed forth, spinning wild and free out into the universe. They were uncontrolled and untamed; with no purpose, no order. With nothing more than their raging energy unfurling around them, shedding light out into the darkness of the void that was the universe in the making.

Before they were organized, before there were galaxies, before there were even worlds around them; they were merely there. There was merely light and darkness. The Universe was young and weak. It was new and feeble. It was without form or order or recognition. It was nothing more than sheer emotion, pure passion and rage mixed together in a discordic bliss. It was a fevered frenzy of new birth and new experience, where nothing that had been seen or felt before was emerging into being. It was a new beginning.

Unsure and barely aware, the source reached out blindly into this new realm, tentative, unsure; touching, feeling. Still vague and distant, and not fully there, it probed the newly formed universe, trying vainly to figure out that which it had just created. Not fully aware, the source searched for truth and understanding; trying to understand the part of itself that had just been born.

And, searching, it saw that the universe was disordered, wild. It saw a space full of uncontrolled power that had no organization. So it sought to bring order to the stars that reeled around within it. And it reached out to those like itself, and sent a probing call across the temporal folds. A call for help in making sense of the chaos that it had manifested within itself.

And in response, there were those who reached out through the veil of neither realms to answer that probing call. They were ones who emerged from other universes that were old and dying places into this fledgling universe to lend aide to the source. They came from beyond this universe to help this universe find its own understanding as was done for universes that came before it. They came to help it create life and form and substance. They came to complete a cycle of ages beyond all understanding. The last of one universe become the first in the next so that life can go on.

These beings were creatures of the ultimate source of life and energy. They were the ancients. They were the ones who stepped forth into this new realm without form or being. They came as energy purer than any other energy; coming forth through the darkness as spirit made manifest. Spirit and matter merged into one to create a form of life unlike any they had seen before. As immortal as any physical form may be, they exist in a timeless state of life. Akasha, spirit, they were the first here. The first life, the first forms beyond the stars, they were the ones who put order to the chaos.

It was they who formed the galaxies, giving order to the virgin universe at last. Bridling the elements they embodied, bring them together, giving them strength. Blending and merging them into worlds, and lives upon these worlds. Doing the entire source asked of them; creating all that the source imagined of itself. They become a part of the universe, and extension of the universe, and the source that embodied it.

Through the universe they went, creating life. They spurned legends of Gods and beings of power as they went; though inadvertently, not wanting to be anything more than they were, they created the very beings they were purported to be. But, seeing the mortal need for gods to understand their worlds, they created true Gods to act as bridges to the source. It was a way for the physical beings to understand that which created them, to understand the source itself.

Gaining strength as they traveled through the universe, they grew and evolved until they gained form that surpassed pure energy. Until the time they were made to inhabit physical forms. Looking far out into time they each choose a form for their first, true form. These forms would forever represent who and what they were. And in time, in these new bodies, they learned to bare children of their own. And, eventually, they learned to be born into physical bodies as other beings in the universe.

When this happened, the source saw that it was finally strong and sure; finally nearing full awareness. It was no longer unsure and unaware, it was finally able to stand on its own. The Source was no longer a child universe and the other, old universes new that they could soon pass beyond awareness.

And so, fewer and fewer of them crossed the veil to this realm, until at last there came a time when two final beings of their original form crossed the veil, and entered the realm of mortal. Two final beings with a need to enter this universe, they were sent here. One came to fill a void as one was expelled to the great void that exists between the universes. A lost, young soul of light that had been mistakenly cast to the chaos when a universe died before she could make the crossing from the universe she had just had her first ever birth into to a new one that never was.

Lost for a moment, yet an eternity, she dwelled within the darkness, a lone spot of light in a depthless black that her feeble light could not penetrate. And just outside, a lone soul hovered, in the hazy veils of universes that barely touch, yet never do. He rides there, a guardian of the boarders between all that is, and all that is not; a pale rider that keeps the ones within from going without, and the ones without from falling within.

There he watched from the time of his birth, like others like him, always watching and guarding. And always they protect the ones who cross from one universe to another. Until the time when she was sent, and tried to pass to a universe that somehow failed a moment before she stepped through the veil. A universe collapsed, and she fell into the chaos before he could extend a hand, and push her back into the light.

And as she tumbled and fell and swam within the terrifying endless night, he prowled the very edges watching and waiting for a moment to free the one he had failed. He watched and waited for a moment to free her, until this new universe neared its adulthood, and a moment finally emerged. He waits until the one of sheer darkness had managed to creep forth into this new universe and wreak havoc upon its fledgling lives.

It was seen and ensnared, and the universe prepared to cast it to the void in which it belonged. And he who watched sent a plea to the universe and the great void, asking that she be sent into the universe in exchange for the one sent in. For it is only in this means that one lost to the void can be retrieved again; even one lost to it is a simple misstep. And the universe listened. For the soul of light was meant for a universe of light, not a void of darkness. And she possessed knowledge and power that only the source itself seemed to know and understand.

And so the moment the dark one was cast to the depths, the one who guarded the edges changed his fate forever, and reached into the void for her. Grasping her hand, he pulled her free, and carried her into the light, becoming the guardian to this one he chose to save, and all that they brought to being.

And together they burst forth through the fiery bursts of a dying star; emerging in a flaming glory of light and sound that collapsed the star in upon itself in a great flux and fury. The collapse caused the universe to pull momentarily in upon itself, and one final galaxy to be formed. And the universe was fully formed. And the others passed beyond their own veil to a place no mortal truly understands.

Through the universe these final two traveled; creating worlds, and life upon these worlds. They saw both the beginning and end to whole civilizations in the long eons of their existence. Yet not tiring of the sheer joy of the cycle creation; knowing that as long as the universe existed, new life would always come after the sadness of loss. And, always, through it all, they saw the universe with the eyes of children, yet with the wisdom of beings as ancient as time itself.

They travel as one being, yet separate. Born together, yet not twins, they grew in love and trust. Each watching out for the other; holding true to an oath made long before their decent to this realm. Holding true to a promise made long before their birth as beings of light and fire. He swore to always watch and protect her. He swore she’d never be alone. She swore to always be true to him. That she would never forsake his love, and would always show him the way.

For countless eons they traveled as was common for their kind in the beginning. Flowing out in fluid motion and light, knowing no time or limits; knowing nothing but pure elemental power, life, and love. But then, as with all their kind, it came time for their first cycle to end, and they were ordered to evolve.

So, looking forward through time and space, they choose the forms of their true being. A blazing steed of fiery spirit he chooses; with a coat the color of the depths of the universe, and eyes that blazed with the red light of the stars. She became a woman of fey spirit, tall and thin and fair; with a blazing fire that shone out and around her, and flow with her blazing red hair.

And together they rode like this for a time. Traveling through space, they grew in strength and power. They grew in love. Growing until they were bond beyond that of souls that were born into the universe together. They evolved until they were more than lovers; more than two bound by oath. They were linked spirits, always bound; from eon to eon they went; whether together or separate. Whether with love for each other or for others, they were still bound one to the other.

Until it came time for them to become more like those they created. When they must take on more limited forms as ordinary souls, though retaining an imprint, a piece, of ever life in a way other souls do not. For their true forms never alter. Their true forms are not stripped from them as they pass from life to life; instead, merely inhabiting a form for a time, than moving onto the next as they learn and grow.

So, as they prepare to start their cycles of lives they stop on one icy world; bringing fire to it, perhaps one of the last times. They charge it with their very essence, so that life can grow. Than they rest upon a mountainside. He stands guard over her as she sleeps; always a faithful spirit. Vowing to always guard and protect her. His is to guard and protect, hers is to always care and soothe; both to ease the suffering heart.

From the time of their descent to the time of their return, they have bound; one heart, one mind, one soul. They are two halves of a whole that cannot be put asunder; cannot be rent in two. And they can never be matched so long as they roam the universe.

And although it would seem as if a dream, it is not. Through many eons they journey together, heart to heart, and soul to soul. Always as one, they are bound to each other. Even when chance keeps them apart for a brief lifetime’s period, they sense each other. They always know the other is there. And always, in time, their hearts find each other again.

The journey is a long and tiresome one. But also a thing wrought of wonder and learning. It is a thing full of sadness, but also joy. For, it is in the living that the experience comes, and in the experience, the learning. Even when those who came before them slowly leave the universe one by one, they journey on. From life to life they journey, always seeking, always growing. A last bastion of the times of old, they wait. For what, they are unsure. But wait they do, until they know what it is they seek. Onward they journey until their journey is done, and they can finally rest.

Even as the truth of their being is lost to the sands of time, they go on. When the images of their kind are twisted and bent to no more than a legend, they travel on. Last bastions of a time long gone, they travel on; only wanting to travel on. Only wanting to seek, learn, and grow, they go on. Living so long, that even they forget how long they have journeyed through the universe. Even they have forgotten the full extent of whom and what they are.

But still they travel on together; heart to heart, and soul to soul. One day they evolve a second time, moving on to their third and last cycle of lives. But, still they travel on. No longer even knowing why she first descended, or why he had come with her. No longer caring why, they merely are.

Together they ride until the time his cycles end, and he is called back to the Source of all being. Still, he lingers for a time, for she still has much time to go before she returns to that which created her. Still she has much to do in the universe she was commended to. He fears leaving her after all the countless ages of the universe.

He had sworn when they emerged into the light that she would never be alone again. He swore to her in the beginning that there would always be one to guard her. And he dreads breaking that vow to her after all the ages they had spent together. With all the eons they had dwelled together, he had grown to love her, and doesn’t want to leave her now.

He does not want to let her down again, as he did when she fell. He does not want to see her left alone, despite her protestations. Despite her urges to do as the source compels.

She knows that the vow was never one he could truly keep. She knows that it was a vow made of guilt and sorrow, and that the universe would never allow him to keep it forever. And, she knew the time would come when she must face the universe alone.

But still he lingers, hoping one will take his place. For a short time longer he dwells in the universe with her, until at last the call is too strong. Finally the compulsion of the Source is too much, and the call of his ancient original family to forlorn, and he crosses the veil to the rest he had so long needed. And one final entity of energy and light dwells within the universe, one last watcher of the ways of the universe. One last keeper of the tales travels alone in the universe that had saved her from the dark.

For how long, she does not know. But on she travels through the universe. Alone and strong at first, later with the one who finally comes by choice to travel with her; a new being of light and love that is born of the love that they create.

Still, she looks back and remembers the one who had once failed her, but then saved her. Still she looks to the one who emerged with her into a universe of much power and light after a momentary eternity in the terrifying dark of the void.

Always she keeps in mind the one who was once there, and hopes that finally, he has forgiven himself for a perceived wrong that could not have been avoided. That finally, he can put behind him what had happened in the beginning. She looks to the unseen horizons of the universe, and hopes that somewhere beyond them, he has finally found rest.


Dark and stolid trees stand in seeming silence watching. Tall and dark and full of life, they keep a perpetual sentinel of all that passes below them with invisible eyes that penetrate the gloom. They see all, they hear all, and they know all that passes within their domain. A domain that stretches out as far as the surrounding woods stretches. For the trees whisper to each other, passing their tales from leaf tip to leaf tip, and root tip to root tip. Passing the tales of all the woods from one to the other and back again. Always changing, always evolving as new life comes within their reach, and passes their tales to them.

And within their dense and menacing circle these trees stand. They stand in the face of time and keep the space within their sight sacred and pure. Separate from the world without, they watch it glow in its singular uniqueness. They see its untouched serenity shimmer in an ethereal light. A light that emanates from that which dwells within its center.

The trees see the tiny clumps of baby fern crouching small and curled and emerald green. They see the mature fern standing tall with the spots of spore pods lining their backs like tiny little towns. And they see the patches of deep green leaves with the deep red blooms like pouches, and snow white petals in groups of three.

There are the soft patches of grass poking out from deep, rich earth that is running deep and dark and moist; formed of leaves and wood. With a poignant, penetrating smell that speaks of life. That speaks of being. That speaks of belonging. All of it standing within this circle of oaks that stand guard of the purity of it all.

This circle and the woods that surround it are the very essence of the universe itself. Bearing witness to all, and yet part of none. Sentinels and storytellers of the ages, it is in these woods that all things seem to begin; and where they seem to end. It is within this tree swept space that the very spark of the universe seems to dwell. Where the heart of the universe beats its fiercest.

This place has an awareness all its own. It is strong and aware and pure. This is a place of power. This is a place of knowledge. It is here that souls come to be healed. Here where they all come to be laid bare before the seeing eyes of the trees. It is here, there is only truth. And it is only here that there is there is the peace that truth can bring.

Because it is here, within this circle within this wood, that all the lei lines of the universe converge. And it is upon this epicenter of power that she sits, the one who watches and waits, hearing the woods whispering their tales all around her. Her eyes do not see, but her heart bears witness to all that is and ever was. She is a silent witness to the universe within a universe.

With roots from her fingers, and roots from her feet, she reaches far into the sky, and digs deep within the earth, searching for all the knowledge that the woods has to offer up to her. And with her blind eyes she sees within, and senses the touch of the ones who stand guard. The stolid wooden watchers who ring her, as well as those that lay beyond. They guard against the ones who would try to approach, the ones who would try to spoil the purity of this space. Guard against those who would try to disrupt the lines of power. Who would try to disturb the sacred presence that dwells upon their vortex?

None ever approach the circle. None are ever allowed within its silent confines save one; one silent form that lies at her feet and waits. One being that seems more stone then flesh, he has lain so long at her feet in wait. One final guardian, sworn to her long ago, and waits for the time they will one day go free of their self-imposed prison within the circle. One day they will leave and ride, once more, across the lines that stretch out from this place to the far reaches of the universe. But for now, he sits and waits while she lies in silence listening to the whispers of the trees.

And just beyond the woods dwells the one who mirrors the one within. A soul of power, one who is the mortal embodiment of she who dwells within the circle. The one who placed her there once, long ago, to contain the power that no mortal life was meant to possess. Power that comes from the universe itself. One who still holds much power despite the separation of the sacred, guarded one who dwells within the trees.

And every night, this mortal one goes out, and tries to tame the power she still contains. Tries to harness the power within her fevered heart that still remains linked to the one who sits. And this mortal one also hears the songs of the trees, and the universe. And she tries to listen.

And on yet another evening, she stands and watches the light dim as the clouds roll in; darkening the woods beyond quickly and completely. The storm moving in faster than any storm naturally should. She’s getting better at calling the rain. And the farms certainly need the rain she’s now bringing. But, that’s not the problem. Calling the storm was never the problem. Controlling it is.

She can call the storms easily enough. She always could. But they never seem to do what she wants them to do. They go too fast, or too slow, to hard or too light. Or they were never the right size; never going where she wanted them too. Most often, they’d go beyond a simple rain shower. Becoming all out storms; going too hard and too fast to be of any benefit. Sometimes they even caused flooding or lightning induced fires. And once the storms get to that point, she finds that she can't stop them. Not until it’s too late, anyway, and the damage is already done.

She just can’t seem to control these powers. Sarina had tried teaching her to control the storms she called up. She had been trying for years; explaining the nature of magic to her. The ways of feeling the flow of energy needed to do magic; and how intent determined if it was light or dark. Sarina explained how magic was merely using one's mind to control the energies around her to a specific end. And if she could see and feel that energy flowing around her and all things, she could do anything.

Kylia always listened intently. She tried to learn everything that Sarina had to teach her, and for most things, it helped. But she still can't seem to control the storms.

As the storm approaches, she watches it. So far it seems to be under control. As the rain reaches her, soft and gentle, she smiles. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time she'll be able to control it. Make it do what she wants. Maybe she’ll finally find the key somewhere inside. As the storm moves about her, she listens; listens to the movement of the wind, listens to the rain. She listens to everything around her. And she listens for the songs.

It tells her things, that she can never quite hear. She knows they are there, yet can never fully grasp the songs. She wishes she could. She knows that they are the key to maintaining control. But she can’t quite grasp it. She tries hard to get what they are telling her, and she can’t seem to do it. Until suddenly, she can. Just as the storm is on the verge of getting out of her control, it is there. Faint at first, but then it grows louder, filling her whole body. Every inch of her body vibrated with it. Images and sounds floated in and around her. Telling her tales of life and being; tales that could be understood, yet not. Singing to her without words, yet full of words; and she understood. And she finds the link to the part of her that dwells within the trees. And that one speaks to her, tells her what to do.

And she moves;

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