What do we dream of when we sleep? 
	Many times we barely even remember what we dreamed of 
in a world of shadows when we awaken to a world of sunlight. In 
those midnight hours our minds are given the gift to run free 
without boundaries. So many things can become a dream before 
our eyes. 
	Naoko Takeuchi dreamed of a world beyond this one. It is
Her world I found this dream within. Inspiration is arbitrary
and conspiracy, and so I am not the only one who deserves 
thanks. Yet these stories never end. Perhaps this will inspire 
and conspire one of you out there to create a dream of your 
own.
	What shall become your dream tonight?

		-His lordship Chaos (hislordshipchaos@hotmail.com)



	FIREFLY

	"Oyasumi nasai, Hime-chan."
	Those two words marked the end of the day, the beginning 
of night, the rebirth of a dream. The door to her bedroom was slowly 
shut as a tall, sandy-blonde retreated to the hallway where light 
still existed.
	She was in darkness for another night, the faint outlines and 
silhouettes in her room nothing but vague blurs in her vision. That 
much of her sight was brought through with a pale moon shining beyond 
her bedroom window.
	The lights in her room blinked on, strange hues dancing 
across the walls and parading within every flickering shadow. Each 
one a tiny luminescence unto itself, each giving its own small glow 
inside these walls that was her room.
	So many lights, each one small and vibrant, hanging on her 
walls and scattered like so many pictures. These were her pictures, 
her images, her world. Every night she could recall, this would 
happen. Every night she had never been disappointed when she 
found herself tucked into bed here in this room.
	A collection she had so much clung to despite the many 
strange lives she had lived since this world in Tokyo had begun. 
And now without the movement of a switch or the strike of match 
they had given themselves a new glow to play with upon her pale 
face.
	And the lights chose to congregate.
	They whispered as they slowly picked themselves up. The 
lamps faded into darkness, the light remained. Tiny spheres of 
burning orange, white, blue, yellow and red took flight in their own 
turn and began to drift across her room.
	She laughed as she pushed away the covers. Sheets dropped 
near her feet, wrinkled and discarded. She pulled her legs out from 
the bed, standing with arms outstretched to call the tiny lights 
floating around her.
	They heeded her call and gathered. Each one was warm as 
they brushed against her cheeks, her hands. A small sphere of blue 
came to rest in her palm. And out from the light grew wings, 
transparent yet displaying reflections of countless rainbows trapped 
deep within. A beating heart within a twinkling light lifted itself 
from her hand to join with the others.
	The covers at her feet stirred, the sheets rippling with life. 
And they began to rise and entwine until they were like wisps of 
wind, tangling themselves amidst the flight of the tiny lights. They 
stroked her cheeks and seemed to push against her body to urge her 
forward. She resisted at first and they pushed again harder. On their 
second push she stepped if not stumbled forward.
	She was barely even aware that her feet were no longer 
touching the mattress of her bed. Nor would it have mattered had 
she even looked down to see her form drifting in the air with her 
fireflies. The loose folds and ends of her pajamas billowed out, now 
having lost their own stillness and gravity. 
	Vertical became horizontal in her stance as she began to 
turn, hovering with arms and legs spread out to savour the taste of 
what it meant to fly without wings. The lights scattered and 
regrouped, circling around each of her limbs, her chest, her head. 
They were frolicking, frenzied by her quiet giggles and gentle 
smiles.
	She stared at herself in the mirror as she passed it by. 
Yellow pajamas now became a Sailor fuku in that other world 
beyond the looking glass. A demure girl on the other side lifted her 
head and stared out into the other room. Hands clasped the 
enormous shaft to a glaive, its blade catching the rainbow shimmers 
of the dancing lights.
	So young, not even thirteen in the reflection staring back. 
The girl with violet eyes brushed aside raven dark hair, fingers 
pressing against the mirror's surface. The looking glass rippled like 
waves of water yet the image beyond was not about to let itself 
become distorted. The girl in the reflection lifted her head, drifting 
in her own flight now yet without an escort of lights. Every light 
within the reflection was from the glaive.
	She watched with her circling lights as the mirror's 
reflection changed from a child into a woman. The woman's face 
came into view, violet eyes that could only be her own narrowing. 
A ribbon held back long raven dark hair.
	"Who are you?" she asked.
	The woman's hair suddenly billowed out, silken tresses of 
darkness wrapping around the woman's body as a long purple 
ribbon was removed. One end flapped in a wind she could not feel 
here in her bedroom, but a tempest blowing on the other side of the 
looking glass. 
	The ribbon was released and pushed against the glass. 
Mirror became water and the long ribbon emerged inside her room. 
She stretched out her hands and caught the ribbon. What started as 
a ribbon became a balloon, and the balloon a search for the winged 
horse. The Pegasus, keeper of dreams. 
	Her violet eyes widened as the woman within the darkness 
of the mirror was suddenly lost to colours. She was caught in a fury 
of balloons that erupted from within the reflection to her room, 
rampant blue, red, yellow, green and purple in a blur all around her. 
The winds came and took the balloons, their dizzying blurs breaking 
apart as each balloon became its own master of the skies. 
	She watched them float upwards, the balloons each popping in 
succession to let rain down a fury of cherry blossom petals. The 
birthday party and its cake were gone, fading into shadow, and all 
she could see were the delicate petals swirling all around her.
	Her world had changed once more.
	What about the fireworks?
	What indeed? If they did not continue to seek their magik, 
the fireworks would no longer be. She had been promised fireworks 
for another night, a special evening so soon from this one. Was it 
tomorrow? She could not recall.
	Her reflection faded, there no longer being a woman or a 
harbinger child. It was only her beyond the looking glass again, 
violet eyes staring into violet eyes as a parade of shimmering lights 
danced around her form.
	The room was returning to her, feet finding a place to stand 
upon the bedsheets once more. She smiled one last time at the lights 
as they clustered near her open palms. And then each shimmering 
firefly exploded.
	Brilliant fireworks, only for her eyes to see.
	Red sparks met with yellow sparks to make orange, and even 
more became blue and green and white. Sparkles and showers of 
flashing lights drifted down at her feet as the bedsheets stirred and 
gently wrapped her up.
	Two tired violet eyes slowly closed as the last of the fireflies 
erupted and disappeared. And there she slept like an angel in the 
darkness. The lights in her room slowly faded until the night 
reigned again, the faint glow from a pale moon coming in through 
her bedroom window.
	Tomorrow. It would be tomorrow.
	January 6.