Yoko: The Birth Of The Star

I run around the place, running away from her. She calls me by my name, but I cover my ears for fear of falling childishly before her many calls and offers. I have left my room agitated and headed towards the west wing of the castle, looking for Fausto, he will know what to do. When turning towards the hallway that heads to his room, I pale after seeing that the hallway has also been engulfed by her. The dark mantle that haunts me and threatens me, tries to turn to me, so I move quickly away from there. I rush down the vertiginous and long stairs to reach the main entrance of the palace, entering each corridor, crossing each room and evading its presence every time I see it moving towards me. When I see the entrance, I run towards it, but as I approach, the dark veil, it drips down the wall like water and instantly covers the entrance completely, I fight with the desire to cry, all in vain, because when I turn around I can feel, as if by the force of my movement, the tears come down my face.

I walk through the main room and climb the first stairs I see, my heart beats frantically without rest between each heartbeat, my muscles begin to burn, my breathing becomes fateful, my mind is dull, all my senses betray me. I don’t know what to think, nor where I'm going, the palace seems like a foreign place, not the one I grew up in and have lived all my life, but one that causes me fear and melancholy. Upon ascending the last step I see that it is the door of my father's room, a feeling of relief invades me with subtlety, I enter it instinctively, looking for him.

He is not there, the feeling of relief tries to escape from me, but I cling to it with all my strength, I don’t know what I expected, the room is empty, just as it has been for the last seven years. Everything is still intact. His library, his sword, his desk, with his complex collection of geography, economy and magic books on top. I go to the desk, I feel the books and I can feel the thick layer of dust that has formed on the covers, I take my other hand to the bottom of the desk and feel the scriptures I had done there to copy in several of his surprise exams for me. I laugh nostalgic and a tear ends falling from my face. I walk towards his bed and I throw myself on top of it, the sheets have preserved still his typical smell; tobacco and ink. My mind, my body, everything is more calm and clear now, unaware of the catastrophe that is coming my way. I get carried away by the succession of thoughts that come to me, me, as a five years old, in my first lesson of geography and economy, me, at seven years old, in our stables learning to ride, me, at eight years old, doing my first successful spell, me, at ten years old, in my first sword lesson, and finally, me, at eleven years old, being notified of my father's decease. A couple of tears fall on the sheets. I get out of bed and come to my desire of wanting to see more the room, even more. I quickly weigh the time I have without coming to this place and I feel guilty for the answer. I walk to the window to remove the curtains and let in a little of external light, but I stop and touch the cloth, I examine it in my hands. It's not the same, and that's where I always realize.

I yank the false curtain with all my strength, detaching it, and finally falling at my feet.

The light of the full moon goes inside the room. What used to be nothing more than a group of dark evasive clusters, now I see them better, the objects have colors and dimension, I observe them more clearly. The scabbard of my father's sword wasn’t that color, the design of the mirror in his room was different, his desk was not so low. I keep trying to remember more details to continue convincing me that this is nothing more than a mere illusion, but in that moment, it bursts out of nothing, it is it, the darkness. I watch it seep under the door and from beneath my father's bed, I walk away in terror striding towards the library, from which, unexpectedly, the books begin to fall, one after the other, I take my eyes to the places where they have fallen off and I see how jets of semi-watery consistency come out, similar to bitumen and black as coal.

I feel that I will faint at any moment, I bring my hand to the desk to avoid falling. I am terrified, yes, I am.

I know this is a dream, I know it, I'm sure. I abandon my search for an answer and surrender to my instincts, I gather all the courage that still remains and I go for my father's sword, I take it out of the scabbard and I grip it towards the muddy blackness that approaches me. From it, thick whips like tentacles come out and try to take me, I cut them one after the other and they fall to the floor, five, ten, fifteen, they all fall to the ground one by one, but all action seems useless since I keep being cornered more and more. I keep waving the sword against the threatening tentacles when I hear a hiss, I try to find where it comes from, but I can’t take my eyes off of the tentacles in front of me, something walks between my feet and looking down I realize that the tentacles that I have been cutting have turned into black snakes, some of them rise up on their abdomen and try to bite me while others zigzag towards me, I stab each one of them on the head and they fall dead. A drop falls in front of me, followed by a couple more, I see above and I contemplate absorbed as the ceiling is full of long threads that drip black drops everywhere, another drop falls on my dress and it begins to expand. One of the snakes almost manages to bite me and makes me step back, I nimbly remove the top piece of my clothes and throw it into the river of shadows. My back touches the glass of the window and without thinking twice I break the glass and walk to the wide balcony, I run to the edge thinking of flying out and away from here, but when I get to the edge, I stop to see how everything has been devoured by the dark wall of darkness, as its body and dimension have increased, becoming a vast and black ocean; almost infinite. And again I listen to her, it's her voice.

I turn around and the snakes and tentacles have disappeared, nevertheless, it continues advancing towards me, I don’t know what else to do, so, with a quick movement of my hands I make a great flare surround the abundant blackness, the fire spreads rapidly and surrounds the whole place, I see before my eyes how that palace, my home, is consumed by the flames, the place that I loved so much becomes a hellish image before my own eyes. All in vain, since the fire is stopped and slowly consumed by the dark mantle.

Suddenly, from the darkness the figure of a person is formed.

She approaches me with her usual walk, slow but intimidating. As she perches in front of me she brings her hands to my face, and contrary to a moment ago, my body is not tense, it is light and enchanted by the familiar touch. I see some tears appear in her eyes and I become sad along with her, I try to say something but I can’t hear my own words. She tries the same thing but I can’t hear hers either, and there, just like every single time. I wake up.

I get up covered in sweat, out of breath, upset. Or at least, it used to be like that. I don’t cry anymore, I don’t scream anymore, I don’t fear anymore, I have slowly accepted it as something more to my routine, another piece of my day to day, but not today, today the dream is the same but the day is different, and so am I. Today will finally be my eighteenth birthday, and therefore, also my much-planned coronation.