There are all sorts of dreams. Some dreams are more akin to wishes, simply fulfillments of goals in our real lives. Other dreams are nightmares, incarnations of our deepest fears. Some dreams are quick experiences, while others seem to fill entire calendars. Some dreams are a lot like passing feelings, rushing over you like wind. Some dreams, on the other hand, are completely under our control, and we manipulate the entire dream in much the same way one would control a computer-generated neighborhood.

Sometimes we wake up, and still recall distinctly the events that occupied our minds the night before. The kind that makes the real world feel wrong, and sits in your head like an aside from the Three Weird Sisters. Most often, however, we forget the vast majority of our dream the instant we awaken. That was usually the case with Seth, the few nights that he slept. But sure enough, Seth had slept that night, and he was about to discover he had had one of those dreams that stays with you long after you wake…


Chapter I

The roar of the crowd gave way to Linkin Park, and Seth woke up, something he’d had little experience with in the last month. He blinked awkwardly at the screen of his laptop before reaching for his cell phone on the other side of the desk. “Hello?” he managed to groan.

The voice on the other end of the line was deep and jovial, and his words were accompanied by the rhythm section of a song, the lone survivor of the song's attempt to traverse the phone connection. If that weren't enough to give away the identity of the caller, there was Dan's knack for calling Seth before anyone else could each and every morning. “Were you asleep, dude?”

“Yeah, I’m shocked too. What d’ya want?” Seth leaned back in his chair and tried to find a compromise between a stretch and keeping his cell at his ear. It didn’t work.

“…brunch, and we got Statistics in ten.”

Seth glanced at the alarm clock. “Frickin’… I’m gonna have to skip, man. I musta crashed in the middle of the assignment. Take notes for me?”

“Why? It’s not like you take notes.”

“Truth. Okay, I’ll catch you after Art.” He flipped his cell shut and for the first time noticed the girl in the room.

It wasn’t that it was odd to find a girl in his room. His roommate would occasionally bring his girlfriend back to the dorm after a party, condemning Seth to his headphones' short leash in front of his laptop in a vain attempt to ignore their drunken antics. What made it unusual was that she was sitting uncomfortably in his bed. Well, that and the fact that she was wearing a silver tiara accented with stars.

The girl was delicate, but not fragile, the way a fern appears in the rain. She wore a simple, form-fitting pastel green summer dress with sleeves that hung loosely around her elbows and a rounded cut that showed the majority of her shoulders. She had light skin that looked soft even from across the room, like a 1940s closeup. Her hair danced between red and brown, and she wore it down, framing her face with wide strands that did their best to hide her eyes, impossibly green and impossibly bright behind long lashes. They lit up and began to vanish as she smiled, and Seth realized he hadn't spoken yet.

“Yes?” she said in a playful, mocking tone.

Seth felt the need to explain himself to the unexplained occupant of his bed. “I- sorry, I just- where did you come from?”

“Oneiro,” she replied simply. “Did you think my father would let you leave without my accompaniment?” The girl tilted her head to one side curiously, sending her flowing red hair cascading off the side of her shoulder. She was captivating in an unexpected way. Or maybe she was just unexpected, and that made her captivating. Seth couldn't be sure.

“Your father? Who are you?”

She slipped out of his bed with an impossible grace and curtsied perfectly. “I am Princess December, daughter of King Augustus.”

Seth felt compelled to do the same. He stood up and bowed in a form that would probably get a man beheaded. “And I’m Seth, Junior in college and still Undecided.”

December smiled. “I’m sure that’s lovely, Seth Jr.” she said, dismissing it rather than deciphering it.

Seth backed away, realizing how absurd this was. He wasn’t sure if he should be impressed or call campus security. There was something oddly familiar about her. “Should I… know you?”

A look of concern found its way into Princess December’s carefully rehearsed expression. “Seth… I am your betrothed…”

* * *

The digital alarm clock by Seth’s bed read a consistent 9:53 as the lights flicked on and off. “So I’m really not dreaming. Huh…”

December watched the overhead light with much more attention than anyone had ever shown it. “How did you light those candles up there?”

Seth gave up on testing the lights and turned back to his fiancée. “The switch here?” Her absent grin told him his explanation wasn't going to cut it. “Wiring? Electricity?” She remained unsatisfied, and Seth began to feel like maybe he should be more impressed by the light. The overhead light basked in the glory of itself, enjoying its moment in the sun. “Anyway, it's not important. Can you go through that betrothed thing once more?”

She smiled, her vanishing eyes accented by faint freckles. “You saved Oneiro. To repay you for your heroism, my father…”

“King Augustus.”

“Right. My father had promised my hand to whoever could vanquish the dark beast.”

“Okay. I guess what I don’t understand is when this all transpired…” There was disbelief and slight sarcasm in his voice. He was sure she was crazy. She had to be. The alternative would be very inconvenient, as Seth was slightly claustrophobic, and was sure a straightjacket and a padded cell would fall into that ‘slightly’ category.

“Only moments ago. Just before I found myself here, in your kingdom.”

“But I was…” Suddenly it all made sense. Well, made sense in the same way a two-year-old’s explanation of how she plans to be a dog when she grows up makes sense. “You’re the girl from my dream!”

“I’m afraid that now I do not understand.” Princess December sat on the futon beneath the window, fiddling with a piece of notebook paper she had moved to vacate her seat.

“What don’t you understand?”

The paper occupied her gaze as she replied. “Dream. Is that a kind of quest?”

“Well up until about... oh, four minutes ago… I thought is was more like a random illusion of the mind.” He felt overwhelmed, the kind of overwhelmed where a chair becomes necessary to cope. He walked hesitantly to the futon where she sat, concerned that the red-haired girl might simply vanish if he got too close. “But you’re not an illusion, are you.”

She didn’t look up. “Not as far as I am aware.”

“How did you get here?”

“I don’t know. With you?”

At least he could eliminate 'angel'. He was certain angels knew all the answers. “Well are you going back?” December didn’t answer him. “Did you bring anything? Where are you staying?” He was arguing with a hallucination.

December was attempting to hide her face, a feat that her bangs lent themselves to well, but it was still apparent her eyes were moistening with frustration and confusion. “I’ve told you everything I know!”

The phone rang, and she screamed, forgetting the overwhelmed feeling for the moment. Seth was torn between a persistently ringing cell phone and the newly-discovered gambit of a girl crying. He chose the enemy he knew, and awkwardly fell off the futon towards the direction of the phone.

“Yeah Dan, what’s up?”

“The teacher put off the assignment till tomorrow, so you can still get it done. Thought you’d wanna know.”

Seth looked at the girl. She was glaring at him, but tried to look somewhere else so as not to seem completely unable to occupy her time without his help. “Yeah, thanks man. Look, I gotta run.”

“Okay. Later.”

Seth stared at the door for a while longer before turning to December. She still sat there, but now her hands held a near-completed paper flower. A smile lit up her face. “So December- Is it okay if I drop the "princess", by the way?”

“Actually,” she replied, looking at him once again, “I prefer Ember, if it is all the same to you. Names based on the months are a family tradition, but I never much cared for that name. It takes so long to say.”

“Ember it is, then.” Maybe she was a pooka. He pictured her with rabbit ears and laughed to himself.

“What are you laughing about?” she asked, concerned and hurt that it might have to do with her name.

“Oh, nothing, sorry.” He sobered up. “Are you serious about this engagement thing?”

The newly titled Ember set her paper flower aside and examined the remote control for the TV. “A princess doesn’t have a say in such matters. Anyway, I’ve looked forward my whole life to being married. I am sure it will be just as beautiful as I always imagined. That is, if you still approve,” she ventured cautiously, her eyes looking into him.

“It’s not that I’m opposed to you, but I don’t know you, and I don’t know why we’re engaged and I certainly don’t know how you came from my dream. And I’m pretty sure I would have to have some idea about at least one of those things before I can marry you.” He stopped for a moment. “Wouldn’t I?”

“I would certainly think so,” admitted Ember.

“Well then, we agree. We can’t get married.” Seth felt very pleased with himself.

Ember was obviously hurt, but tried to be tough about it. “Fine,” she said evenly. “Then take me home. I won’t be a bother to you any longer.”

“Take you home? But how?”

“I don’t know!” She tossed the remote aside and shuffled herself until she was sitting to face him. “You brought me here! Take me on another one of your dreams!”

This was ridiculous. Seth had never had trouble getting rid of a dream. “I don’t think I could if I tried.”

“What do you mean?!” She half-climbed onto his legs in a show of eager urgency.

“Well, dreams happen while you sleep,” Seth admitted slowly. “And I haven’t been able to do that for a while now. But even if I could, I don't know if it would work. Normally waking up gets rid of dreams. You're the first exception I've ever run into.”

Confusion and concern collided in Ember’s reaction. “Well you’re just going to have to try! I can’t stay here if you won’t have me! It would not be proper!”

“I’ll see what I can do, Ember. Just… I need to think about this…” He stood up and headed for the door in a slow meander. Ember sat up eagerly, watching his every move. “I just need to eat or something,” he said, not really thinking about food. “I’ll be back.” He grabbed his backpack on the way out, which he hoped contained his supplies for Art.

“Yes,” Ember said. “Go fill your stomach and then… go running… tire yourself out. Something.” The door closed, and Ember found herself, for the first time in her new surroundings, completely alone.