9. Dreams & Reality

Why do girls have to be so pretty? It’s not that I mind, because I don’t, but…it always throws off my cool groove.

CHOICES is the first book in the Chronicles of a Hero fantasy series. This is the story of Wendell P. Dipmier, who I’ve been writing about since 1990. I hope you’ll join me on this new adventure….as I tell the honest, complete story of this amazing 17 year old, exclusively on Life of Fiction.

Paid subscribers can access the entire archive of this series from the beginning, along with other stories and every article I’ve ever written. If you aren’t a paid subscriber, you can access the archive for free with a 7-day trial OR earn a paid membership by joining the referral program!

---

NOTE: This chapter likely exceeds the max limit for emails…Gmail will truncate messages exceeding 102KB,…so if this cuts off in your email, make sure to read it through your Substack app or on LifeOfFiction.com.

<— Read Previous Chapter | Read Next Chapter —>

Chapter 9

Have you ever been dreaming and then realized it WAS a dream?

I don’t usually remember dreams, so this was new to me. The movements, the emotions, it all felt so…real.

I know I’m still considered a kid, but I believe that who you are comprises the tiny choices you make. Not just in a day, but throughout your life. Those seemingly insignificant things we do from day-to-day, especially in how we interact with others, make a difference. You choose to go forward when you could have gone back. To push forward when you could have easily given up. To stand up one more time than you are knocked down. Small choices add up.

Good or bad, they add up.

Those who discover who they truly are, who learn what makes them unique...are the ones who choose to do the right thing. Even when faced with painful choices, the choose the right thing. Not because they get a reward or recognition.

…but because it’s the right thing.

Sad thing was, no matter how many times I called out, she kept running. Typical Monday for me, if we’re being honest. “Wait!” I shouted again. “Don’t go!” 

She dropped the purple light into the pouch flung across her shoulder. Her long, dark curls bounced across her tunic as she quickly vanished around the corner.

The sudden darkness nearly swallowed me.

I’m forced to slow down, and I clenched my eyes closed so my vision could adjust. The light from the scattered torches was barely enough to tell me what I could already smell — it was damp and dusty down here. The moisture also makes the stone floor slippery.

“You need to hurry,” Doubt grunted.

Working on it!

The cellar was a veritable maze. She’d lose me if I wasn’t careful…so I sprinted. We were taking a beating in the battle outside. Boulders smashing into the castle proved it. Its foundation shuddered under the soles of my feet.

Our enemy’s trebuchet were relentless. Their bombardment echoed through the corridors. Dust, dirt and pebbles fell from the mortar onto my head and shoulders, getting into my eyes. I had to blink through the coughs.

“Please! Let me help you!” I called out again. 

“Come on, Wendell,” Doubt says. “RUN!”

When I finally caught up, she was cowering at a juncture in the tunnels, eyes wide like a cornered rabbit. 

She screamed.

Okay, I may not be the most handsome guy around, sure, but screaming in terror was a bit much to…

“She’s not looking at us,” said Doubt.

Thank goodne…oh, wait.

Hunched over, a robed figure materialized, drifting in from the blackness of the halls with tattered cloth hanging from a boney figure beneath. A pungent smell swallowed the air up. Rotting flesh. It was so strong; I gagged. 

That’s when I catch a flash of movement along the floor.

Hundreds of insects — cockroaches, flies, earwigs, and things I can’t identify — scatter across the tiles. Things left behind with each step the figure takes. Footsteps of decay.

The figure hisses. Arms outstretched towards the girl, it ignores me.

Jerk.

She recoils from the bug-guy, screaming.

Tha-THUMP-Thump.

My reaction is instantaneous. Reaching out with my hands, I grip the air in front of me. I look at the torches on either side of the hallway. White light flared from my chest, the Ithari blazing beneath my tunic. I could see and feel the flames of the torches. Warmth rippled beneath my skin, traveling from my chest out through my limbs to my fingertips. We become one, Ithari and I.

One heart. One mind.

Answering a silent call, the fire leapt from the wall, expanding and swirling, splitting into giant fingers…and into hands. Flames extending from my being, mimicking every movement I make. Clapping my hands together, the burning extensions of my will snatch the robe, yanking it away from the girl and holding it fast.

Shrieks claw at my ears and spine as the creature shakes, trying to escape my grasp. I hold it fast, squeezing my palms tighter. Smoke billows from my fingers of flame, rolling up along the ceiling in all directions. I can feel the will of this creature clashing with my own…a magic seeking to protect itself. To escape.

I don’t let it.

Instead, I hold this being fast until the screaming stops,…and there’s nothing left but ash.

“Oh yeah,” Doubt hums, “The Wendellizer has saved the day! Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh.”

With self-assured bravado, I roll my shoulders back as I stand upright. Changing my focus from the torches to the girl, the flaming extension of my will fades. Pleased with myself, I prepared my ‘Prince Charming Smile’ (practiced, of course), and turned to the girl.

Her features are revealed to me in the torchlight. A rumpled mane of long, dark curls frame the gentle curves of her face, and her dark chocolate eyes locked onto mine. She has perfect lips, an upturned nose and a smile that causes my heart to skip a beat.

*sigh*

Make that two.

Why do girls have to be so pretty? It’s not that I mind, because I don’t, but…it always throws off my cool groove. 

“You saved me!” she coos, batting her doe-eyes at me. Jumping to her feet, she side-steps the pile of ash and draws close. Those full lips part in another intoxicating smile and I, um, what was I doing?

“Dude, you’re being cool,” Doubt reminds me.

Right. I smile back. “Yeah,…” but that doesn’t sound right… “I mean, ‘Why yes, I did.’”

“That’s better,” Doubt whispers. “Confident.”

She reaches out, her fingers intermingle with my own. Without warning, my knees go weak, wanting to buckle under me. I keep it together. 

Barely.

Her touch is so soft, her skin warm, even in this dank cellar. I just smile…because, well…I have no idea what to do next.

“Thank you,” she whispers, drawing closer.

“You are SO my hero right now!”

Shut up.

“Sorry.”

Those full lips could utter complete nonsense and I’d turn to butter…

“An old apple shoots pineapples with a machine-gun.”

Ooooo, say it again!

She steps closer and wraps her arms around me.

“Wow, ohhhhHHHH WOW!”

She lays her head on my chest.

I bite my lip.

Hard.

“Ow.”

Too hard.

She’s so close I can feel her breathing and I’m all too aware of her against me. It takes all the willpower I have not to panic. I’m not sure what other teenagers do, but my body can’t decide whether to collapse…or melt.

Luckily, someone decided for me.

She looks up into my eyes, reaches her hand around my neck, and pulls me closer. 

“WE HAVE KISSING ACTION!” Doubt shrieks.

Dude.

“Sorry,” he whispers.

Closing her eyes, she opens those beautiful lips and whispers,…

“Jussst a boy. Jussst a CHILD.”

“Well, THAT was the least sexy thing I’ve ever….”

“Go home or ssshe will SSSUFFER!”

The voice echoes in my mind, and I stumble back away from the girl. My hand reaches out to the wall to steady myself, legs weak.

Tattered charcoal black robes that meld with the surrounding shadows blocked the hallway. The only movement I can see are the pale and dirty fingers. Gnarled and broken nails protrude from rotting flesh, clawing at the stone of the walls. They pause as if considering my presence, swaying in the shadows.

Watching me.

The tops of the hoods rolled forward, bending at the center of the arch. Skinless brows frowned at me. Arching their backs, the robes changed positions, some defying gravity and scurrying up the walls. Beasts of prey, ready to pounce.

We found ourselves in a corner.

Wait. Weren’t we at a juncture a moment ago…?

“Focus,” Doubt growled.

I looked into the gaping black holes of those hoods and shivered. Shaking off my unsettled doubt, I jumped to her side and considered my surroundings. There had to be a way out. Useless shelf to my right, two wood crates and three full gunny sacks, probably grain. A pile of someone’s forgotten laundry. To my left, a stained glass window.

“Window? What’s a window doing in a cellar??”

Grabbing the girl around her waist with one arm, I hold her head against my shoulder with the other. 

The creatures launch themselves, claws outstretched.

“Hold tight!” I yell, but she can’t hear me as I plunge through the glass. The icy wind stings my flesh, glass shards tear my cheek and forearm.

I’m all alone.

…and plummeting to my death.

The waves of the sea beckon as the rocky shore rushes up to meet me.

I didn’t even get her name.

SMACK!

Hmph.

My eyes popped open, and for a long moment I just stayed on my back, not moving. How much could a mind take?

I sighed.

It was just a dream, dang it. Then again, at least there weren’t cold stone floors, voices from inanimate objects, or hairy blue legs. Right? Kicking free of the bedsheets, I grabbed the pillow off my chest and threw it across the room.

No wonder she felt so soft.

Letting the back of my head flop against the floor, I let my surroundings sink in. 

I didn’t recall there ever being carpet during my trip to Sanctuary. There was also cool air blowing across my face from a vent. I poked the little metal grate with my fingers. Slivers of warm sunlight peeked through wood blinds above me, warming strips of skin across my forearm.

Huh.

I allowed myself a monstrous yawn as I picked up the pillow and blanket and plopped down on the corner of the bed.

I bounced. The mattress springs squeaked, and with it, the rest of the previous night flooded back without mercy. It was a long ride I remembered little…except a sore backside. But I remembered that the wizard, Morphi…Morfeeo…uhhhh, Chuck, had a cart waiting when we came out of the council meeting.

An old, rickety cart, attached to a smelly old goat.

It was huge, too, the goat. Bigger than any cow I’d ever seen. Not that I’d wanted to ride in a goat cart, but Chuck had offered a way to disappear for a time. To avoid the eyes of the community and to secure some privacy while we figured out what to do next. It sounded perfect to me. I’d flopped into the cart and dozed among a slew of clay pots and straw during most of the bumpy ride. It was late; I was tired, and the trip took longer than I had energy for. At some point I was nudged, guided through an open door, up some stairs, through another open door and on to…

I bounced on the bed again, creating the squeak.

Until I fell out of bed, I’d slept soundly. Now that I thought about it, that was…odd. A new life, and on a new planet, and I slept well? The room wasn’t what I would have expected. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to expect anymore, after talking with Chuck and Dax, their gnome tech and references to Earth trivia. I’d guessed a straw-filled mattress, maybe, not a therapeutic one with memory foam. The room was indistinguishable from what I’d found at home. A nightstand with an electric lamp, tall dresser, painted walls, cozy patchwork quilt, fluffy white pillows. It was…

Earthy.

Carpet…as in plush, fluffy, have to use a vacuum carpet. Not exactly the fantasy, medieval feel of the Keep and…mmmmmm. It even smelled like…

I took a deep breath. 

Clean linen.

Just for one small, hopeful moment I wondered if Sanctuary, the High Elder, the green goblin, and especially Kyliene — as wonderful as she was — had been a crazy dream.

The rumpled yellow tunic and trousers I’d been wearing looked back at me from the floor.

Ungh.

Tha-THUMP-thump.

Tha-THUMP-thump.

Tha-THUMP-thump.

And then there was you. My new companion, or…should I call you my girlfriend.  “Psychotic girlfriend who won’t leave me alone,” I snorted and laughed out loud.

Tha-THUMP-thump.

“Sorry,” I said. “That was rude. I’m Wendell P. Dipmier, Earth-boy gone hero.” Setting my pillows back onto my bed, I looked at the digital alarm clock.

It blinked 1:13pm.

Yesterday had been the longest and worst day of my life. As that reality sank in, I found it hard to swallow. My life was now something I still hadn’t figured how to accept. It would have been wrong for me to leave, taking these world’s greatest weapon. Not the most comforting thought — the world’s greatest weapon in the hands of the world’s biggest chicken — but they assured me I’d have help. I made the choice to stay. This, of course, also meant I was never going home.

“You’ve got to say it out loud,” I told myself. 

“Talking to yourself is nuts, you know,” Doubt chided me.

“Say’s the voice in my head,” I said.

“No reason to get snarky,” Doubt said.

“Sorry,” I said, and I meant it. Weird thing was, I always wanted to be Evan. That was the real joke about this whole situation. I’d thought about it, dreamed about it, even wished for it. To be respected. To have responsibilities and duties in helping others…and now here I was. 

Should have wished for a dog.

For a long moment, I stared at my reflection in the dresser mirror, studying the lines of my face. Nothing looked familiar. Not a wrinkle, not the freckles, not even my broken nose looked familiar to me. I was a complete stranger.

“You’re a fool, Wendell,” I said to the guy in the reflection. “You made a life-altering decision at an emotional moment. Now you’ve sealed your fate.”

Crap. Crap. Crap! Wendell, you moron, what have you done? How are you going to pull this off? You’re not even the actual hero. Can you do this? But that was the question. I gulped. Do what? Crap, I only had a vague idea of what the Iskari High Council was expecting me to do…

That made me smile, though. Wendell P. Dipmier, class clown, nerd, high-school streaker, Blue Ribbon Burping Champion and macaroni sculpting master. Talking with ‘high councils’ and being referred to as ‘lord’. When I looked down at my hands, though, they were shaking. 

Interlacing my fingers, I clenched them tight and willed them to stop. For all the conflicts I’d been in, I didn’t know how to fight. My tactics were on the ‘flight’ side of that “fight or flight” reaction.

*sigh*

“Well, you won’t figure any of this out hiding in a bedroom,” I told myself. It was time to get up, start the day, and start learning how to be the hero folks expected. Taking a wide step around the bed, I caught the side of the dresser with my bare foot.

There was a ‘snap’.

…and I bit my lip, my face flushing hot.

“AAAAHHH!” I yelled, falling back on the bed and yanking my foot up towards my face. I saw my little toe twist, pointing straight out from the side of my foot. It was already swelling and turning purple.

“Great,” I said, exasperated. “Just flippin’ great! The Hero of the Gem has broken his PINKY TOE!!” Oh, they’re gonna love me. “And don’t forget to mention it was during his epic battle with self-confidence and a bedroom dresser.”

I looked down and growled through clenched teeth at the Ithari. “I thought you were supposed to...”

The pain subsided.

My attention drifted to my twisted toe.

It trembled.

No, that’s not right. It…spasmed…and I could feel a warm sensation from my ankle, down to the tip of the toenail of the broken toe. The digit rotated, nail upwards…and repositioned itself with an audible ‘POP’.

For long moments, I just gawked.

Then I wiggled my toes.

They felt…perfect.

“Huh,” I said. I set my foot back on the floor. “Right,” I muttered, looking back down at my chest. “Sorry, Ithari, about the complaint.”

Tha-THUMP-thump.

Grabbing the pillows, I made the bed. Then I pulled my clothes back on, hoping someone would help me find something more appropriate than otherworldly hospital smocks. I also made a mental note to ask where I could find a toothbrush, deodorant, and a comb of some kind to keep my appearance in check. A once-over with my finger in the mirror was all I could do for now, so I…

Hello there. Where did you come from?

Sitting front and center on the dresser was a small chest. It was a deep redwood, a rounded top much like a miniature pirate’s chest, hinges and clasp made of what looked like brass. Now, a chest isn’t an unusual thing. People have such items to store jewelry, items of value and even personal keepsakes. What made this chest unusual was that it wasn’t sitting there when I broke my toe.

That was less than five minutes ago.

To make it a bit more creepy, someone had placed a folded piece of paper leaning against it. The words ‘Mr. Wendell, Sir’ were written in flowing script across the front, in red ink.

I looked around the room, but there wasn’t anywhere to hide. I’d been alone since I had woken up…hadn’t I?

Unfolding the paper, I read it aloud.

“Mr. Wendell, sir,

We would like to welcome you to Kotisi. As the new lord of the manor, it is my honor to present you with this gift from your father. The mantle bound and sealed the chest, and only the mantle can open it.

When you are ready, make your will known and it shall open. 

The staff and I are here to be of service, should you require anything at any time.

If you are hungry, Master Morphiophelius insisted on cooking breakfast for you soon in the kitchen.

That said, I cannot guarantee its quality or your enjoyment.

Good luck.

Your humble servant,

SJ”

I set the note to the side and picked up the trunk. “Well, this isn’t weird at all, now is it?” I said aloud. “This takes imposter syndrome to a whole new level, Wendell.” Turning the chest from end to end, I could hear the shifting and clinking of…coin?

I shook it.

It rattled and chimed.

I pulled, and I tugged, but it wouldn’t open. Wedging my fingernails into the tiny seams of the wood, I pulled as hard as I could, but only bent my nails in the effort.

“Come on, blast you,” I hollered. “Open!”

The lid popped up.

“Well,…okay then,” I said, and set the open container back on the dresser.

Black silk-like material inlaid the trunk, with a single partition separating the bottom of the box. On one side was a woven green pouch with a drawstring. On the other side, a folder letter with a scarlet wax seal holding it closed.

“A letter to give his son,” I whispered. A son who wasn’t coming back. I reached out to pick it up, then hesitated.

My fingers withdrew and curled into a fist, my eyes lingering on the wax seal. It didn’t belong to me. 

It belonged to Evan.

I glanced around the room again and sighed. “I’ll have to ask SJ for a toothbrush and toothpaste after breakfast.”

There was a faint rattling sound…and I jumped. On the corner of the dresser, not over three inches from the open chest, was a toothbrush. Still in its wrapper, a small tube of ‘Hero Smile’ toothpaste accompanied it. A cartoon puppy in a superhero cape smiled back at me with an oversized set of human teeth.

I gulped. “T-thank you, SJ…” I said.

It didn’t matter what people thought of me before today. Also, it didn’t matter that I was chosen by mistake. Giving the Ithari to someone else wasn’t an option. I have to make this work.

I had to be more.

So I asked the one question that had helped me more times than not through my life…

What would Evan do?

Dumb as it may sound, the question made me smile. I didn’t have to think very hard, either. From all the times Evan had come to my rescue, I knew what my best friend would say.

“You might not have chosen this situation, Wendell,” he’d laugh, “but it may regret choosing you!” Then he’d tell me, “Make the best decisions you can and stick with them. No matter what, you stick to your word. That’s how you earn an excellent reputation with others. It’s how you make friends and keep friends. Always keep your word. You can do it! I know you can.” That’s what he’d say.

Well, that…and then he’d slug me in the shoulder.

As I stared at the scarlet wax seal, my palms felt cold and clammy. The sudden hum of the air conditioner challenged the whirling motion of the fan overhead.

I sat down, frozen on the edge of the bed, unblinking. The red wax seal stared back at me, daring me.

Mocking me.

This isn’t right. I’m not the hero’s son.

“Oh, for crying’ out…get OVER yourself, will you?” yelled Doubt.

I shifted, rubbing my palms against the fabric of my jeans. Then again, my eyebrows lifted with the thought, What if the letter isn’t what I think? Maybe it has the answers to some great mystery that folks have been waiting for? Maybe the father knew the gem would go to someone else?!

Not that I believed that, but the thought still made me grin. OOOH! — maybe it’s instruction on how to use the Ithari! My entire future could be in that letter!

So I picked up the green pouch instead.

"You wuss," Doubt chided me.

Loosening the string, I pulled open the pouch and "Oh…my…flip," I choked, nearly dropping the bag altogether.

It was gold.

…and silver…

…and gems. Diamonds, rubies….and things I had no idea what they were. If they were in a bag with diamonds and rubies, well, I was guessing they were worth something.

"Evan was rich," I whispered.

I looked around the room. The door was closed.

Sitting back on the bed, I poured the contents of the bag onto the mattress. The coins fell free, glittering in the light, making that beautiful clinking sound I imagine rich people loved. Coin after coin fell from the pouch, until I noticed something strange.

Coin after coin fell from the pouch.

As in, they didn’t stop.

When I pulled the string closed, the pile on the bed was way too big. Not that I was complaining, but the amount of coins on my bed wouldn’t fit in a tiny bag that size. Hundreds of coins and gems, the pile now inches high, smiled back at me…while the green pouch looked like something a little old lady would carry in her purse.

Huh.

One by one, I scooped handfuls of coins and slid them back into the bag. I left a gold coin, a silver coin, and a single diamond the size of my thumb left on the mattress. The rest fit perfectly back in the pouch, which felt like there were, at most, a dozen coins in its belly.

I grinned to myself.

If daddy took care of his son’s financials, what would he say in a personal letter no one else could read? Squeezing my eyes tight, I let out a sharp breath. “Only one way to find out.”

Snatching up the object of torment and desire, I slid my thumb under the red wax seal, popped it up and unfolded the paper.

My eyes ate each sentence.

The handwriting was uniform and elegant, written across the textured surface with care and precision.

My Beloved Son,

It feels like only moments ago that I placed you in the arms of another.

I know they will love you and care for you as their own, but already I mourn my decision.

Know that you were never cast off or abandoned. There wasn’t any other way to keep you safe, but to send you away. I have already laid your beloved mother to rest from this war — I could not lose you as well.

Thus I had to send you away…to buy you time.

My beloved child, I love you with all my soul. One day, you will understand that.

All I do…all I have done or will do, has been to provide you with an advantage over our enemy. To prepare you for that which is to come.

Above all else, my son, you must protect the seals!

I gasped. Seals? SEALS!?

Flipping the paper over, I stared at the mangled red wax, horrified.

“CRAP!” No, wait — that can’t be right. “How would I be able to read the letter unless I…”

I shook my head and read on.

Our enemy will escape from the prison we are preparing, unless we maintain the seals. Protect them at all costs.

Should Mahan escape, he will seek to destroy you, for you are the only genuine threat barring his path to absolute dominion over our world.

Should he escape, you have until the shadows fall to prepare for war.

The end war.

It pangs my soul that you must bear the weight of my failure.

For this, my son, I am sorry.

I did not have the heart to kill the one called Mahan. Though he remains the blackest evil to walk these lands, he was first my friend. 

My brother.

A brilliant mägo who sought the praise and glory of his own people.

Only now do I see that the evil was always within him.

It is his lust for power, and hunger to be worshipped, that corrupts his heart. Nothing but godhood — placing all others under his feet — will satisfy him.

Even now, he seeks to rule over ‘lesser’ beings, destroying any who offend him.

Mahan murdered your mother with his own hand. Yet even then, I did not have it in me to take his life.

My son, beware his power.

The Lord of Darkness is cunning and patient. His true skills do not lay in might, but in the subtleties of the mind and heart. He is a skilled orator and can persuade men to do his will by taking a truth and twisting it in such a fashion that the lie will seem like truth.

His influence seeps through the blood of generations, twisting and corrupting, while hiding in plain sight. I have yet to uncover the spies woven into our society, but know that Mahan has no equal to this world but Ithari herself.

From her vision, he cannot hide.

Protect the seals.

He cannot escape the frozen torment of Unrest unless he breaks them.

Be patient with others, my son. You will encounter few who understand the path you are forced to walk.

Trust no one but the Gem. Through her, you will learn the truth of all things. This is your only true protection. Listen to that inner voice that whispers to you. Not your own, but that voice which prompts you to do only what is right, what is true and just. Ithari cannot lie and she will not falter, so long as you serve her with a pure heart.

Though she manifests her power, this one lesson I give unto you — learn it well;

She will not support you in vain ambition, pride or revenge.

As you love her, protect her, honor her…through your sacrifice for others, her abilities will unfold unto you.

When your hearts become one, so will your power.

You will speak with the elements, even the intelligence within the elements, and shape them to your will.

Then and only then can you be the hero our world requires and destroy our enemy.

Until such time, protect the seals and seek Ithari’s children. Keep the shards safe or they will be used against you.

All of my hopes rest with you, my son, as does the future of this world.

Through Ithari, my heart is always with you.

Your Father.

P.S. Make haste to Til-Thorin. It is there your journey will begin.

The words lingered as my fingers folded the paper.

I tossed it onto the nightstand without looking.

Blinking, “So now I know what’s expected of me.” I sat, staring at the wood blinds in front of me.

Reaching out, I dragged a pillow from the bed into my lap.

“That’s good.”

I yanked the pillowcase free of its contents.

…and vomited into it. 

<— Read Previous Chapter | Read Next Chapter —>

---

---

Yeah, it’s blood….I ran out of sweat and tears.

Want to help keep me in basic office supplies?

I’m always running out of basic supplies……if you’re willing & able, you can click on my list of what I use and buy a product …..OR…. you can buy me a coffee and I’ll get what I need when I need it. THANKS!

---

---

Paid subscribers can access the entire archive of this series from the beginning, along with other stories and every article I’ve ever written. If you aren’t a paid subscriber, you can access the archive for free with a 7-day trial OR earn a paid membership by joining the referral program!