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Andrew Cosar is boarding his plane to go home. It has been 5 years and 8 months since he had left Belarus, and moved to the United Kingdom. His student years were good, so much so that they gave him an opening for a fortunate career, as a writer for the BBC News’s “Business” section. He had applied for the “Entertainment and Arts” section.
He enjoys his “Brit” life, except for one thing: the weather. It sounds cliché, but it’s true. And it’s not about the rain, that never really bothered him.
It’s the clouds that keep the Sun covered from view. And that is what Andrew misses most about home.
As he settles in his seat, the weariness of the road before and the road ahead strike him together. He lets himself fall into sleep, still thinking about the Suns of spring mornings and summer evenings. He dreams of those moments, and daylight rises in the Dreaming.
The Dream Kings’ guests are all gathered in one of the castles great halls. The castle never has more than one great hall, the great hall just always changes to something else. For that is the way of dreams.
The Gods and other such entities are anxiously, some even nervously awaiting the Dream King. On this morning he is to announce to whom he will grant the keys and complete ownership of Hell. The Norse, Egyptian and Japanese gods, the Lords of Order and ChAOs, representatives of the Faerie and of the Deamonkind have all made their desires and offerings for the dark realm known to the Dream King.
The Sandman would want nothing more than to let go of the key and its heavy burden, but that is the essence of his trouble. Hell is a responsibility, far greater than most others, and that responsibility does not simply fall on just the owner, but on the one who entrusted it to him. Lucifer knews of these games, and he is a master at them.
An entire night of contemplation and consideration had proved to be fruitless, for the Dream King was no closer to making a decision. His servant crow Matthew attempts to consult him.
The angels Remiel and Duma approach the Dream King. Remiel addresses him, with a message from their Creator: “There must be a Hell. There must be a place for the demons, a place for the damned. Hell is Heaven’s reflection. It is Heaven’s shadow. They define each other. Reward and punishment, hope and despair. There must be a Hell, for without Hell, Heaven has no meaning. And thus Hell must be - - “
Remiel screams of despair. His composure becomes unfitting of an angel, but it is to be expected. “Hell cannot be entrusted to other than those who serve the Name directly. It is too important.” For that reason, Remiel and Duma will now have to rule over it. And they can never return to the Silver City.
Remiels’ cries of injustice are silenced by Duma as his hand reaches that of Dream King. They exchange the key for peace of mind and the angels leave the Sandman to deal with his own version of Hell.
His other visitors are nearly finished with the verbal threatening and the actual attacks seem to be coming. Their antics are cut short by the Dream King’s presence, the impatience for an answer outweighs the urge to be foolish.
To their shock the Dream King informs them that key was returned to its’ rightful owner, its’ Creator. Most are disappointed, a few are celebrating, but one is furious. The demon Azazel can not accept this outcome. He has come for the Hell of his kind, with fair offerings: a soul to be tormented and one to be liberated. Since the Dream King refuses to give him back the home of the demons, then those souls are his to feast on.
Foolish demon.
Dream is the Dreaming, and the Dreaming is him. You are welcomed and allowed into the Dreaming as long as Dream welcomes and allows you. And Azazel lost that good will.
The Sandman rescues both Chorizon and Nada from the many mouths of Azazel, capturing the demon in a bottle.
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Some choose to leave right away, for the troubles of their pantheon have still not been settled, while others are receiving of the Kings’ invitation to spend more time in his hospitality.
Morpheus tends to the needs, desires and responsibilities of each of his remaining guests (some with more delicate requests than others), one of which is the woman who started all of this: Nada. However now is not the time for late amends and overdue apologies, so he waits for it to feel right in his heart to address his fault.
Translation: he is scared of facing his former lover. And that is the way of things.
EPILOGUE – The Summerstar
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Thank you very much for walking on this journey with me through one of my favorite stories of all time. I know I didn't do it justice, but I hope that I have at least peaked your interest enough to go and read it. Once again, thank you very much for reading and enjoy the rest of your day.
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