Witch Hunter Robin Fan Fiction ❯ Falling ❯ Dreaming of Reality ( Chapter 4 )

Take a chance, like all dreamers,

Can't find another way.

You don't have to dream it all,

Just live a day.

Dune - “Save a Prayer”

 

No dark, no light.

I do my dreaming in the night.

These nights, you float into my dreams

You're mine to have, to hold, my own, possessed.

Virus - “Hypnotised”

 

It would have been a significant understatement for Anne to describe the scene unfolding before her as only “surreal”. In reality, it was a waking dream that had gone horribly wrong. Had everything gone according to plan, she and the rest of the team should have cornered and taken care of Yamato, letting that be the end of it. Instead, they were surrounded by gun-toting individuals inside an abandoned warehouse and had just witnessed a ghost appearing before them. Cocking her head, Anne had to wonder for a moment if her senses had left her.

 

"A… Amon!" She heard Dojima gasp from beside her, her gun clattering noisily to the floor. Wide-eyed, the woman seemed to be ready to collapse. She wavered a second and put a hand to her head, then looked up again at Amon. Faintly, she shook her head, trying to determine if this was real or not.

 

Sakaki, likewise, looked just as stunned and poleaxed as his partner. Only the calm in his voice kept him from revealing just how fast his heart was beating. “We thought you were dead," he muttered as he set his gun down on the ground and slowly raised his hands in surrender to the armed men and women.

 

In his typical manner the former STN-J hunter nodded. "Many people believe that. I would prefer to keep it that way. Right now is not the time for pleasantries. Your questions will be answered in due time, but that time is not now." Shifting, he looked behind him at the shadows in the far corner of the warehouse. “Any indication that they were followed?”

It only took Anne a moment to realize that someone was standing in those shadows. A moment later, two figures emerged from the inky blackness as the sound of a door closing echoed around the warehouse. Anne squinted, eyes adjusting to the blackness, and she quickly recognized who the two figures were. A smile played across her lips for an instant as the surprise faded and another piece to this puzzle fell into place.

 

“The perimeter's clear. They weren't followed,” Karasuma nodded to Amon as Hanako's eyes swept the room for any signs of a shadowy threat. The two hunters came to stand beside Amon, facing their captured comrades.

 

Amon gave a quick nod and the group of armed vigilantes lowered their weapons and slowly stepped back. Raching down, Anne picked up her gun and holstered it, eyes scanning the group. They didn't seem particularly hostile now, but this was all subject to change in the blink of an eye. John had already re-holstered his weapon and was looking at Karasuma questioningly. It was not hard to tell that he was probably feeling a bit betrayed.

 

“I was unaware that STN-J promoted duplicity in the ranks,” he said calmly, as if he was discussing the weather in Kansas. His eyes burned ferociously into Karasuma's, who looked down to avoid his gaze.

 

His words seemed to have an effect on the rest of the group as he quickly looked first at Amon and then at Hanako. The youngster's cheeks turned bright red, visible even in the gloom of the warehouse, and she lowered her head out of what appeared to be shame. Before John could continue what seemed like a potentially scathing rebuke of the two STN-J members, Amon's voice commanded attention.

“We will have time to deal with this later. Right now we must return to our haven before our shadows realize we are gone. Please turn off your communicators; I promise there will be no need for them where we are going.”

 

Amon's order struck Anne as being odd until something clicked. The communicators contained GPS units that could be used by STN-J to determine their positions. A second later she realized she was only half-right. Not just STN-J, but Solomon as well. That explains why we haven't heard from Michael during this - he's a part of this as well. It made sense in her mind, at least. They hadn't heard from Michael since being surrounded and it was atypical of the hacker to not check up on them as he normally did. Still, there was only one way to double-check.

“You don't want Solomon to know where we're going, do you?” The question came out as cool as the feel of the communicator clipped to her belt as her fingers brushed the power switch. Amon nodded, and Anne felt vindicated if only for a moment. “Michael is involved in this as well, isn't he?” A second nod confirmed her thinking, but Amon had already turned away before she could ask more questions.

 

Gaze meeting one particular member of the armed group, Amon gave another nod. The woman set her weapon on the ground as she nodded in return and withdrew a piece of chalk from her pocket. Swiftly and with an expert hand, the woman began to draw on the ground. It took Anne a moment to register the rune's purpose and then the woman was done and the rune had vanished. Only a second later it reappeared - much larger and surrounding the group. In the seconds before the rune activated, Anne mentally cursed and closed her eyes. There was a flash of light, and then darkness enveloped her and the group…

There are few things stronger than the power of dreams. From the beginning of time to the present mankind's ability to dream was always its saving grace. It was dreams and visions of untold lands and countless riches that drove men in the 15th and 16th Centuries to set sail and explore the globe. Dreams of a better tomorrow, free from religious persecution and overcrowding, was the cause of the colonization of America in the 17th Century. The value of a dream, it was once said, is greater than all the gold in the world. While any man can dream, only a select few had the ability to influence dreams.

 

These beings (for they are not entirely human or witch) are known about by only a select handful of people in the world and called “dreamweavers”. Anne James was one of these, a fact known only by those at RFO-7 and Solomon. As the spell-induced darkness threatened Anne's consciousness, she retreated into her haven - her dreamworld.

 

It is extremely difficult to properly describe any one dreamworld. Dreamworlds are a dreamweaver's safe haven, workshop, and their creation. They are linked to the mind of their creator and have the frightening ability to morph their landscape at any given second as their creator's mind changes. What may have been a city one minute can quickly become a forest and just as quickly change into a beach. Time does not pass the same for one is in a dreamworld, either. To a dreamweaver inside a dreamworld, a day there may pass in the space of an hour in the real world.

 

Anne stood alone on a plain of tall grass within her dreamworld, watching the ripples of the wind brush the green landscape around her. Her retreat to her sanctuary had been an automatic reaction to the feeling of a summoning spell. She glanced upwards at the crystal blue sky and reached up to brush a strand of hair from her face. Anne was extremely sensitive to magic, and summoning spells triggered something akin to an allergic reaction in her. The last time that a summoning spell had been used on her, she had required half a week to recover from the shock. As soon as she had realized what spell was being used, Anne had forced herself into the dreamworld before the damage could be done. Such “forced sleeps”, as they were called, came with a price - it would be some time before she would be able to leave again.

 

She sighed and turned full circle even as the landscape morphed around her and coalesced. Hills and valleys formed where the ground had once been flat and the sky shifted in hue towards the purples of sunset. Dreamworlds were inexplicable things; for all the control she exerted on the dreams of others, dreamworlds were beyond her own control and grasp. In her head, she replayed the events of the last minutes before she had arrived. The dreamworld reacted accordingly, displaying a window that showed a view from her own perspective of the events. She was convinced now that they had been lured into the trap by Michael. Amon had as much as confirmed this with no answer to her question. But could it be called a trap? Amon and his cadre of witches had not harmed them in any way. Aside from the gun pointing, they had taken no hostile actions. Amon had even asked (well, more stated the need) for their help. Although traps could have many purposes, it was difficult to say that this was a trap. Perhaps it was better to say, cynicly, that they had been “summoned” to be of assistance in whatever was going on.

There was no doubt in her mind that when she awoke from this dreamworld both sides would have a lot of questions to answer. It was certain in Anne's mind that Karasuma, Michael, and Hanako had been involved with Amon previously. To be able to keep his existence secret for this long represented a great deal of cunning and craft on the part of all involved. Still, something tugged at the back of Anne's mind. “Wait,” she said out loud as she reasoned this aloud to herself.

 

“If Amon is still alive, that can only mean…” she stopped mid-sentence as the landscape around her began to morph yet again. The sky turned brilliant blue and then filled with thunderstorms on the horizon as a city sprang to life around her. Its structures were a meld of Tokyo and Kansas City, a conglomerate of the West and the East. “Robin must still be alive.”

 

A bolt of lightning crackled ominously through the air at these words, striking a tall building off on the horizon. As the thunder rolled past, slow and deep, the pregnant skies above her opened up and let loose with a downpour that evaporated as it touched Anne. She was not concerned so much with the fate of Robin and Amon as she was with the threat that they represented. If Solomon discovered that they were alive, it was safe to presume that the Hunt order would be reinstated. That seemed the most likely reason to keep their existence secret from everyone. But how did Hanako fit into this?

 

Before she could say or think anything further, a figure emerged from a building to her right. It took Anne a moment to realize this was not a part of the dreamworld - it was an actual person. There had been vague rumors of people being able to enter a dreamweaver's dreamworld, but only if they were very skilled and very powerful. This didn't matter, because any intrusion into Anne's dreamworld - essentially her mind - would have alerted her immediately. It was only through invitation and mental discipline that anyone else could be invited to enter this place. Preparing herself mentally to deal with the intruder, Anne paused when she recognized the figure.

 

It was Hanako.

 

“How did you come here?” Anne called over the rising cacophony of rain striking pavement like the crinkling of paper even as the buildings seemed to slowly melt back into the ground. “What do you want?”

 

The girl took three steps towards Anne and then stopped. Looking pensive, she bowed politely. “Gomen… I mean, I'm sorry,” the young girl looked meek and subdued as she kept her eyes towards the ground, refusing to look directly at Anne. “We could not figure out why you were not waking up until your partner told us. I came to let you know that it was safe to return.”

 

“I am sorry if I scared you. I do not react well to magic.” It took Anne all the effort in the world to not spit the words out at the young girl.

 

Hanako simply nodded, and Anne pressed on with her own questions. The matter of Hanako's arrival to this place was more important than returning just yet. “How did you get here?”

 

“I have learned a few mental exercises in the past few years,” the girl responded, visibly gathering her courage and looking Anne in the eye, “and used an astral plane projection in an attempt to reach you. I admit it was more challenging than I thought.”

 

It was Anne's turn to nod, though she was still less than happy. If this girl was able to break into a dreamworld and only call it “challenging”, Anne did not want to know what was considered “easy”. The landscape evaporated into a billion stars above and below them. Anne watched with passive interest as the galaxy revolved and spun around them. Her mind was filling with questions that needed answers, and Hanako held some of the answers that she sought. “Why do you work for STN-J? You're awfully powerful to be so young.”

 

The girl sat down on the invisible plane that held them and gave a shrug. “I never knew my powers existed until I met my mentor, Father Anderson. It has always been a second nature to me -- fighting to protect the world from those who act with evil in their hearts. Someone must defend the innocent.”

 

Taking up a spot beside her, Anne nodded and closed her eyes to focus the swirling questions in her mind. Powerful craft-users were few and far between in Solomon, mostly because of the security risks they posed. Archaic and ancient though it may have seemed, Solomon kept its very powerful craft-users on a proverbial leash to prevent them from doing what Solomon feared the most - overthrowing the organization. It made her justifiably uneasy, sitting close to someone so powerful but on whom they had so little information about. Perhaps it was part of Anne's desire to be able to operate in an ordered system, even if it appeared disordered to anyone but her, but so little information on someone that powerful was enough for her to keep her guard up.

 

“Yes, but you are extremely powerful. You were able to enter such a place as this,” she held her arms out to take in her dreamworld, “With little effort. That is no small achievement. Solomon doesn't exactly promote diversity in their craft-users.”

 

“I don't know.” A frown crossed Hanako's features. “I guess I just learn quickly. Most of Solomon's hunters only concentrate on one craft. After learning one craft it was hard not to be interested in other crafts.”

 

“What did your mentor have to say about this?”

 

“It did not seem to bother him,” the younger hunter replied. “If nothing, he encouraged me to study further. `The pursuit of wisdom to help those in need is the most noble endeavor possible,' was his saying when I would want to discover more about different things.”

 

Anne had not expected to hear of an elder hunter within Solomon promoting diversity such as this. The simple fact that this information was not in the Solomon database suggested that something was being hidden - but why was a question that she could not simply answer, for the question had many possible answers. She wondered what about this girl was still hidden - what secrets lurked within the shadow of Hanako.

 

Shrugging off these concerns, Anne opened her eyes slowly and looked around at the scenery of the dreamscape. It had begun to reform into the green plains that were here when she first arrived. We've come full circle, she recalled as she stood and stretched. More questions to be asked, more answers to find. This is a mystery that we've been dragged into, and I will find out why it is that we're involved in this.

 

“I have many more questions to ask, you realize,” she voiced out loud, not even bothering to look as Hanako nodded. “They can wait for the moment, but you and your compatriots have a lot to answer for. The future of STN-J hinges on what my partner and I have to report to our superiors, and if word about this gets to Solomon there will be a great deal of chaos to deal with.”

 

The American sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “I'll be awakening from this place as soon as the shock wears off. Please make sure that John and the others know this. Afterwards, we will see what happens.”

 

Again the other hunter nodded and slowly stood, her form fading into mist as she departed the dreamscape out of respect for Anne's privacy. Alone once more, Anne sighed again and closed her eyes. The wind swirled about her as she turned her thoughts inwards. Whatever reservations she had about this mission had just doubled, and every alarm bell in her head was ringing a discordant harmony. Whatever it was that she and John were now involved in was undoubtedly something big, and big things tended to be the hardest to take care of. Unless what she heard was good, her report to STN-A was going to be very, very painful for everyone.