44 Ymiden, 720
There was a strange man sitting on the edge of his bed, staring. But it wasn’t a strange man at all. It was Ash. But his hair was cut so short it barely looked like he had hair at all. And his eyes were not their crystalline blue but a murky brown instead.
“You’re dreaming,” the man who looked like Ash stated.
Zur was sitting up in his bed staring right back at the man. He had been frozen in fear for a moment, but had regained his composure. Surly this wasn’t Ash, right?
“I know I’m dreaming,” he replied, deciding that this was a stranger in his room and there was no way possible that someone who looked exactly like Ash could exist in such a small world. “There’s no way in hell Ash would have cut off his glorious hair. And it’s impossible for him to have changed his eye colour.”
And it was true, the former. Ash wasn’t a vain person, but he admired his hair as though it were an appendage. Zur loved his hair as well. It was long and wavy and always shined even on the cloudiest of days.
“You need to water the plants.”
At first Zur wanted to explain to this man that he had no plants. He had a garden outside, but nothing grew in it as of late. He hadn’t wanted to put the time and energy into something so insubstantial when he had other, more important, things to worry about. He was just about to tell the imposter exactly this when he repeated himself.
“You need to water the plants.”
This was getting a little creepy. The man who looked like Ash but who was most definitely not Ash leant farther over the bed and closer to where Zur sat.
Zur wrapped his hands around the bedsheets and pulled them closer as though they would protect him from whatever this stranger was about to do. He looked ready to lunge and his eyes gave away nothing other than a serious, malicious look.
“You need to water them now!”
The paintings on the walls rattled, protesting the raise of his voice. Zur glanced quickly at one of them, fearful that they would fall and smash onto the ground. The painting he saw was of a clear bowl. It held an orange fish inside and the fish’s eyes were enormous as though stuck in a perpetual state of surprise. But it was Zur who should have been surprised. The painting, which should have remained unmoving unless in a dream (which Zur was clearly experiencing, began to move. The bowl that held the fish tipped forward, tossing water out of its frame and all over the floor. The fish’s eyes grew even larger as it attempted to stay inside the bowl, but it’s attempts were futile. Like the water, it too spilled out of the bowl and onto the floor. The painting was now a painting of an empty bowl tipped on its side and the floor now held a flopping fish.
“Look what you did-“
The man who looked like Ash but who was most certainly Ash had vanished. He no longer sat perched on the end of the bed.
Zur threw his bedsheets off him and stood. Careful so as to avoid the floundering fish, he made way to his bedroom door hoping to find the imposter hiding behind it. He couldn’t have simply disappeared. Though, this was a dream. Zur was having a challenging time remembering that.
As he threw open the bedroom door, he was greeted with something unexpected. Usually what lay outside his bedroom door was a short hallway into his living room. Instead, he found himself in a garden. But it wasn’t his garden because there were living flowers in this one.
He stepped across the threshold and the door slammed quickly behind him. He didn’t make a moment’s glance behind him to see what it had been that had closed his door so aggressively. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want to see what it was that slammed his door. Or perhaps it was because he knew there would be nothing there. Whatever the reason, he remained focused on the thriving garden in front of him.
“Water the plants,” came a shrill voice. Was it coming from the sky? From behind him? From inside his mind?
Zur shook his head as if by doing so it would shake the voice from his head. He already had times where he would hear voices in his head. Fortunately for him it was due to a blessing and not a curse. This voice, however, was not granted to him by his blessing. He had to look into the eyes of the person he wished to listen to and only then it was there thoughts, ignorant to his ability to read their mind.
“Water the plants.”
The voice was getting pushy, just as the Ash imposter had in his bedroom. Could it be the same person? The voices weren’t necessarily the same, but he wouldn’t doubt it.
Conveniently, Zur found a watering can beside him. He tentatively picked it up, finding it to be full of water. He took a hesitant step to the nearest flower and tilted the watering can. Fluorescent pink liquid trickled out of the can and onto the flower, who’s petals turned from a crisp white to a vivid… blue?
Perhaps it was a reaction the flower had to the liquid inside the watering can- whatever it was.
“I heard the Donri’s hired a private eye to spy on their son.”
This was a different voice. Zur could tell by the tone. He stopped watering to look around. He needed to find out where the voice was coming from as it was most definitely not coming from within his head this time.
“Why did you stop? That felt so nice!”
Zur scanned the horizon, he peered behind a large boulder to his right. He even checked under his foot.
“Give me some more of that delicious pink juice, dear!”
“I could use some as well!”
There were two voices now.
“I'd like another hit!”
Three.
Zur quickly made the connection. Something was wanting more of the pink liquid he had been pouring and he had only poured it on a flower. He looked down at the plant, it’s petals still a vivid blue, and saw it move comically like it was trying to show it was speaking without a mouth (it didn’t have a mouth, thank goodness).
“You want more of this stuff?” Zur asked, referring to the liquid in the watering can.
“Yes!” Chimed in all three previous voices and then some.
He began watering the flower again and watched as the petals turned an even darker blue.
“How did your petals turn from white to blue?” He asked.
“Magic.”
“No really.” Though, knowing this was a dream, he speculated anything was possible.
None of the flowers answered him so he changed the subject.
“Who are the Donri’s?”
Next to the flower he was currently watering was a pink flower. “Only the richest couple in the world!” It told him.
Zur moved the watering can so it sprinkled over the flower. It purred in delight in response.
“Why did they hire someone to spy on their son?”
Some of the flowers gasped, clearly surprised at how ignorant Zur was of the situation. Even in the waking world, he could not have cared less about who was wealthy and who was not. He stayed away from financial matters and any politics that were associated with them unless it strictly pertained to him.
“You mean to tell us you don’t know?” It was the first flower again, it’s petals gradually reverting back to their original snow white hue.
“Do tell me,” Zur encouraged, donning a higher pitch to his tone. He wondered if acting as interested in the gossip as the flowers were would make him more accepted.
“The Donri’s son embezzled thousands!”
“From his own parents!”
“To pay off a gambling debt!”
Zur deftly placed the watering can down. The flowers he had watered had probably had enough. He wondered if by watering them, he was stoking the fire so to speak; he was just encouraging their gossip.
“That sounds horrible,” Zur murmured. He didn’t know what he would do if Ash went a little too far with his gambling tendencies. He had assured him that he wouldn’t bet anymore than he couldn’t reclaim, but things happened, boundaries could be crossed without knowing.
“You won’t get another peep from me without more of that appetizing pink juice!” Proclaimed the first flower. It’s petals were now entirely white, if not a little wilted. How much water did these plants need? This was why Zur could never start a garden. Tending to it would take too much unnecessary effort and time out of his busy schedule.
“That’s okay,” he assured. “It was a pleasure talking with you all while it lasted.”
Something grabbed his hand then and as Zur turned to find out what it was, he saw that it was Ash. The real Ash. His hair was long and glowing, his eyes back to their crystalline blue. They seemed to bounce like waves in the ocean the longer he stared into them.
“Come back and enjoy the morning with me,” he said with a small smile. And then, “you stole all the blankets again.”
Slowly the two ventured back to the door that led back into the bedroom. Zur tried to assure himself that Ash was not like the Donri’s son, that he wouldn’t jeopardize their stable financial state, and that if for some reason he did, he would come to Zur asking for help rather than seek an illegal way of covering up his mistake.
“Don’t worry,” Ash said as they slipped through the door. “I would never put our relationship at risk. That is a gamble I will never be willing to take.”
