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August 15th 2004 -- backtracking : "Dream Interruptions"

It seems now that every night, Dare is visited by the strange dream interruptions. He's become accustomed to it, waiting patiently for it to pass in order to continue the happy, nonsense dream he was enduring previous to the encounter.

Tonight is no different. The files whiz by in streaks of light, voices seeming to scream as they fly past. Dare steps back, a bit shaken at the anger in one file's voice. What is there to be so angry about? From what he's seen, life is very nice and everyone is happy and giving and sharing. However, there is something eery about these files that always throw him off a bit; its as if they make him reminded of the death feeling. Although he isn't aware of any of these distinctions, he's always relieved when the process shuts down and he can return to sleeping normally.

August 17th 2004 -- backtracking : "The Name"

Dare takes a look at his new bed, pushed up against the wall and the corner. It has a fence-type device to prevent him from rolling out of bed, a nice green comforter and lighter green sheets. It's a big boy bed, he thinks to himself proudly, climbing up the side carefully.

Complete in his pajamas, the ones with the feet in them that he put on himself [backwards, mind you] for the first time to show Mummy how big he is, and under the covers with his ratted greying stuffed bunny, he awaits his mother to read him a story and tuck him in.

Phoenix enters his newly rearranged room, tugging over a stool she'd purchased earlier. "Are you enjoying your new bed?" she asks sweetly. Dare nods in a slow, cautious way. He did like the bed, and the fence made him feel safe. She smiles tiredly, picking a book off his bright plastic bookcase.

"The Jolly Postman," she reads the title, "by Janet and Allan Ahlberg. I used to love this story, I'm glad I kept it!"

Dare rests on his side, listening to his mother's words intensely as she reads him the story.

"Once upon a bicycle,
So they say,
A Jolly Postman came one day
From over the hills
and far away..."

His mother reads him the pull out Goldilocks letter. Something about a party and three kinds of jelly.. His eyes close a few times, and he struggles to keep them open. Now it was postcard from Jack to the Giant. He'd liked that story; Jack was his favourite character because he was brave enough to adventure like that.

His eyes win the battle, closing upon the arrival of a birthday card for eight year old Goldilocks. The dream that followed was not one of regular interruption; instead, he found himself in the cramped office that he had when he phased out while holding the hourglass. His mother had earlier handed him one of the mini letter stories as part of the book, and it stayed clutched in his hand as if nothing could pry it from his grasp.

Dare is leaning backwards in a chair with wheels, sitting at a desk that looked like the top hadn't been seen in ages. Piles of papers, newspapers magazines, official reports, letters, scraps.. they line the desk in an organized chaos. One letter, the remains of the envelope in front of him, is clutched in his hand. Surprising even himself, he is able to pick out and read most of the words; comprehend them, however, is another story.

As he skims the letter, he picks up on what he does know. Someone named Pandora was writing to him about a "case" and wanted him to go over his "files" before their meeting. He sits in a confused silence, putting down the letter; he looks around the too-white-for-comfort room for something to stand out in particular. Nothing.. this place looks like it had when he was last there, except for the girl.

What was the name of the ..? He lifts the letter up again, feeling the slightest prickle at the back of his neck. At once, a name strikes him off the page; Ink.

"Dare, honey, did you like the story?" Phoenix asks, looking up from the book that amused her so. He responds with blank eyes, the letter practically crumpled from being held so tightly.

"Ah, be careful with that," she warns, slight panic striking her voice. She holds out her hand, and Dare looks from hers to his before setting it down neatly. It's slightly dented, she observes as she slides it back into place, but what's to be expected from someone so young?

Dare reaches for his rabbit, dropped in the process of readjusting in his more spacious bed. Phoenix leans down and hugs her son, almost not noticing that he stiffens at the contact. Raising an eyebrow, she silently goes over possible reasons as she makes her way over to the door.

With a hand on the lightswitch, she calls to him in a whisper. "Good night, Dare."

"Nyt nyt, Mummy," he says, snuggling down into the inviting sheets, Bunny tucked against his person. Phoenix shuts off the lights and closes the door, just enough so the hall light shines in and illuminates his bed.

August 25th 2004 -- backtracking : "Induced by Song"

Dare is sitting under the arm of the couch where the shadow from the light above lands, his new favourite spot to sit. The television, on mute, shows the Olympic Games, but Dare isn't interested. In his hands rests the precious car.

He runs a finger across the wheel, facinated as it spins uncontrollably. In the kitchen, the radio releases a song, the music floating throughout the otherwise eerily quiet household.

"We'll fast forward to a few years later
And no one knows except the both of us
And I have honored your request for silence
And you've washed your hands clean of this"

Dare turns his head sharply toward the source, though he can't see the radio from this angle. He pushes himself up, delicately hiding his toy within his clothing again. Wandering in cautious steps, the song continues to play.

"What part of our history's reinvented and under rug swept?
What part of your memory is selective and tends to forget?
What with this distance it seems so obvious?"

Dare grips onto the door frame so hard that his knuckles turn white. His eyes remain transfixed on the radio, but the song fades off almost as soon as he'd arrived. He looks ghostly, standing in the doorway with an awed facial expression lying on the music box.

Within the cabinet, the golden hourglass rattles against the wood shelf in a vibrating hum. Dare hears something very distant, and turns his head..

"Dare, what're you doing with your head halfway out the door?"

Dare turns fully around to face the girl from his scary encounters. On his face remains the same expression, though now directed towards what just flashed and occured.

She gives him a weird look. "Geez, you look like you've seen a ghost." She has a pile of books stacked in her arms, trying to juggle them appropriately.

The music on the radio is present, but Dare can't make out the words. The tune sounds..

"Look, just go back inside and get yourself some coffee. You look like you need it." The girl brushes by him and out the door. Dare keeps his eyes on her, but as soon as his eyes land back in the position they were..

The hourglass stops rattling. Dare falls backwards onto his bottom, finally releasing his sore fingers from their grip on the doorframe.

August 28th 2004 -- backtracking : "Older now"

Dare sits down at his new desk. He'd spent the day rearranging his whole room to his liking, and cleared away anything that was babyish and unsightly. Oy, some of the things he used to own..!

His desk is positioned to look out the window. Dare cranes forward, leaning on his elbows, to take in the sight lying out in front of his eyes. The green of the pasture that is their backyard is yellowing from the dry spell they've been having lately. He watches as, below, his sister Emiko chases after Calli in a game of frozen tag [Zaeth already been tagged, by the looks of it.]

He leans back from the overlooking view and pushes back so the rear of the chair cranes backward. Almost automatically he rests his feet atop the desk. His eyes glaze as he begins the daydream, sight fading but eyes positioned to the blank ceiling.

I'm older now. Next time I get one of those dreams, the ones with the screaming people.. I'm going to help them. They won't have to get eated by my evil hourglass anymore. I'll jump out and save those trapped people, I will! It's my fault, I brought home that stupid hourglass and now..

He sighs, falling forward when he swings his legs off the furnature. His boots make a sound when they thump to the floor, so he freezes to make sure no one was coming to check if anything's wrong. He doesn't hear any footsteps, so he lets it pass that no one heard him.

In the far right corner, nearest the end of his bed, rests a brand new black guitar. Dare locks his eyes onto it, wondering why his mom ever bought him such an expensive gift and drawing a blank. Yeah, sure he'd grown up, but to pay so much money for something he wasn't really sure he was even going to use..

Before he knows it, the guitar is in his hands. In his daydream state, he walked over and grasped the instrument with great delicacy. Now, he stares at it with a silenced awe; he crawls over his bed and rests up against the wall, legs outstretched and guitar across his lap.


They say that there are some things that you never forget.

August 30th 2004 -- backtracking : "It's a little different"

Dare sits by the florescent light atop his desk, it directed down onto the paper and pen in front of him. He takes the pencil in a hand, twirling it around his index finger before setting it to the paper.

His hand outlines the face of the girl he'd seen twice before. Dark hair.. short at the back, longer at the front, he decides after observing the image in his mind. Slightly closed eyes, yellowish skin, pursed lips and a fed up look. Dare bites his own lip in thought of who she might be. She seemed to know him, and she was familiar to him as the back of his hand, although he couldn't put a finger on it..

Sleep beckons to him, and before long his head rests involuntarily in crossed arms, embracing such a sleep as always experienced by the young Legend.

Though this time.. it's a little different.

Dare awaits the breaking of his dream, sitting cross legged in his spot. He refuses to do anything else within it, waiting desperately for another chance at the hourglass and screaming files. It seems that the break notices this, as it arrives earlier within sleep than usual.

His hand wavers in front of his face. Immediately, he jumps onto his boots with a clamping noise. The hourglass stands mightly, overbearing him and casting a huge shadow. Funny.. it never seemed to have a light source, other than the files' faint coloured glow, before this time. Dare shields his eyes, starting into a run toward the hourglass.

Across the back rests a ladder; such a primary object as this didn't seem to belong in this eery, magical scene. As if on cue, he starts up it in a steady pace, at first ensuring it's stable, then reaching the top in no time.

His hands grasp the gold top of the huge object, and Dare pulls all of his body weight to the top.

And there she is.

Her back is turned, she's shorter and younger.. but the light in Dare's head flicks on in recognition.

"Nice of you to finally join me," she says in a slightly sarcastic tone, not turning around. She's holding open a clasped door, it not phasing her as the files are sucked inside as if she was in power of a mini black hole. Finally, she looks over her shoulder and smiles faintly.

Dare stands in his place, studying her face. Exactly how he remembered it..

A wince of sympathy graces it. "It must be so hard, practically starting over like you did.." she says softly with a click of her tongue. Dare steps forward, cautious of the hole but it seems to not affect anything on his person. She gives him an odd eye, then corrects it with another sympathetic tinge. "It's Truth," she continues, and with a brief pause, ".. That's what you've been looking for, anyway. My name's Truth."

Dare's eyes widen sharply. Of course. It felt like a load of bricks knocking him in the back, the realization.. Why hadn't he known?

"What's happened to me?" he asks in desperation. Truth looks at the darkness, illuminated by small dots of files quickly thinning out. Her eyes drift up to him again, then back on the files.

"You were killed. It's harder to come back once you've not died a regular death, but you'll get it back eventually. You've already started, actually.."

Dare is about to say something when the files draw dry. Truth quickly slams what looks like a massively heavy door, shoving a piece of gold across into the loop to shut it. They lock eyes for the briefest of moments, his eyes confused and pleading whereas hers show deep sorrow, before everything that once was is lost. The files, hourglass, and darkness are lifted, fading away to blend back the dream that first was.

She is faster to disappear.. Gone in the blink of childish eyes.

September 5th 2004 -- backtracking : "Meeting Truth"

Dare didn't even realize he'd fallen asleep. Actually, he wouldn't have been able to tell the difference if the routine interruption wasn't a telltale sign of his slumber.

Climbing up the crooked ladder and reaching the top of the golden hourglass, Dare comes to a stand once stable at the height. Holding open the thick door was Truth, the girl haunting his dreams alongside the screaming files of the deceased.

"Nice to see you again," she says curtly, not turning around. Her eyes are transfixed on the amount of incoming files, almost as if she was counting them. Could she? They're flying in so fast that it's hard for Dare to believe someone could keep track that fast, even if they're skilled that way.

"Funny," he says, coming up to her side. Her eyes remain locked ahead, and they flicker right, left, up, down in split seconds.

"Hah. You, find something I say funny?" she retorts with sarcasm, finally turning to face him. "Why, Dare, I think you're finally becoming used to sarcasm!"

He rolls his eyes, lower a hand to his belt. She follows it with her eyes, smile melting into a smirk.

"You can't hurt me here. Everything in your dream only hurts yourself," Truth snickers, adjusting the door so its open a bit wider. She straddles her feet to keep a good hold while remaining outside of the hole into the hourglass.

Dare follows her steps, narrowing his eyes a little. "Explain things to me, then. Tell me what I need to know," he mutters, brushing back at his bangs.

Truth giggles softly. "You expect me to hand you the answers? Excuse me, Almighty Dare the Time Ranger, but I'm just your loyal partner who isn't allowed, by law, to tell you outright anything that'll gain you back your old memories."

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued by her deep sarcastic and bitter nature toward him. "Okay, so don't tell me anything about myself. I'm not stupid, I can fig're it out meself."

"Sure you can," she says shortly, in a way so he couldn't tell if she was still being sarcastic, or was actually truthful this time. After staring out into the thinning files with a long pause, she faces him again.

"You didn't read the letter yet."

"I fell asleep!" he growls, stomping a foot.

"Obviously," is her reply with a roll of her black eyes. "Pay attention to it, alright? It's all I can tell you."

Dare looks up in confusion. "Didn't you just say you can't help me?" he asks, frustrated by how complicated she was making things by talking in riddle.

She raises a hand, narrowing her eyes. "Keep it down, you'll disturb them." She motions the same hand toward the last of the files, but he replies with a scoff. Her eyes shoot at him, glaring daggers. "You don't want to offend the dead."

"They are? That's what they are? Dead, those are dead.. people?!"

Truth's glaring eyes change to wide ones, noticing her mistake. "Ohh, ohh.. I'm gonna be in so much trouble for this.." Lucky for her, the files had ceased to continue to pour in, so when she let go of the heavy door, it did not shut out any files. She looks at him with such horror glued to her expression that Dare's throat clenches. He didn't want to make her so upset, he just wanted answers..

Truth takes a few stumbling steps backward, nearing the edge. She sobs gently, making quick to brush away any tears before they come.

"But, wait, I--"

As soon as he says this, or even before as he hasn't been paying that much attention to what came out of his own mouth lately, she disintegrates into the air; the process is one that could be described like wind blowing away particles of dust. Truth disappears as if dust pieces of herself were being blown from a source unknown, until she was completely gone.

"-- didn't mean to get you in trouble.." Dare fades off, realizing she was gone before he finished, and probably wasn't there to hear him anyway. He collapses onto his knees and closes his eyes; the silence of the empty black place burns at his ears. A new weight is dropped onto the shoulders of the young Legend.

September 11th 2004 -- backtracking : "Making an exit"

Dare lies on his back, legs hanging over the side of his bed and arms crossed behind his head. The news of the newest addition hasn't struck him immediately, but he'd rather enjoyed being the youngest. Sighing, he pushes himself up with two hands and hops to the floor.

Grabbing his cloak, he exits his room and makes sure his door shuts behin him. The sign, "Dare's Sanctuary," lies a bit crooked against the door, but it was in result of Dare wanting to nail it up himself.

With a quick look left and right, he dashes down the stairs in the quietest way possible. Too many things are in his head, and he needs some space to be able to clear them away. Rummaging in the closest nearest the front door, he gathers a small tote bag and holds it over his shoulder.

Standing up and very cautiously sliding the door closed, he takes a look up the stairs at the second level, where most of the family is still sleeping. He salutes upwards and nowhere in particular before leaving out the front. A very beautiful morning it is, as it is often around these parts, and an especially good one for a thought-filled trip to the beach alone, to wander at will and collect shells to make the journey seem more than just a way to sort out his head.