Jakub ran through the Crooked Forest, a place he often visited where the pines curved surreally, slanting away from the path and then up toward the sky. It was as if someone had placed a giant invisible bowl in the center of the path which bent the trees around its curvature. The wind was a slight breeze, and the wildlife chittered in the treetops, which were straight and tall, unlike the curvy bases of their trunks. No one knew why they grew that way.

He rounded a bend in the path, expecting for his foot to plant itself on the pine needle bed as usual, when suddenly the earth fell away, bleeding an oily black as if someone had inked the canvas of the terrain with an upturned well. With no ground to step upon, the solidity of running was snatched away and replaced by an exhilarating drop through the inky darkness.

He spent a long time falling, long enough so that he reached terminal velocity, and landed hard on his toes, then heels, then ass, then back, rolling with the impact to lessen the damage. Not that it mattered. Falling from such a height meant he had no way to prevent broken bones, which included toes, leg bones, his tailbone, and all his ribs. He lay there splattered like roadkill in the darkness, wondering how he’d managed to survive at all. So stunned was he that he didn’t have a mind to scream or call out for help until much later, at which point he bellowed with everything he had—only for his voice to be a pathetic whimper.

Even so, she came. She was tall, blonde, and had something very wrong with her neck, but Jakub was too beside himself with pain to notice all those things, nor yet notice the silvery mirrored surfaces of her eyes, until she was leaning over him with an expression of concern. The ends of her hair tickled his face, and it was agony.

“I am Akki,” she told him. “Slayer of Nightmares. No need to answer. I can see you’re in that condition.”

“Help,” he muttered. It was all he could do.

“You’re dreaming.”

“It hurts.”

“I can make you lucid.”

“Hurts.”

“There’s not much more I can do than make you lucid. Healing is a matter of waiting. I could wake you, but then this nightmare might return.”

“Hurts! Hurts!”

Akki found his hand and held it. “Apologies, but I need to ask a favor. I need you to concentrate. Concentrate on where you were before, before the darkness of this place.”

Jakub tried but couldn’t do it. He started crying, which agitated his injuries, which made concentrating even more impossible. Akki ran her hand through his hair, and then her fingers went further, inside his scalp with a fuzzy sensation of intrusion, and Jakub then realized this was all a dream. Unfortunately, that didn’t make all of the pain go away. It didn’t heal him, but it made him calmer. Calm enough to answer.

“I was in the Crooked Forest,” said Jakub softly. “Then this.”

“I’ve never been.” Akki removed her hand from his scalp. She continued stroking his hair. “If it’s a forest, there might be something to use as splints. You’re the dreamer here, and in more control than I am. You could return us to the Crooked Forest if you’re not in too much pain to do so. Apologies, but I could only remove a little. All you need to do is concentrate on the forest and we might be transported.”

“Might be?”

“It works differently for every dreamer. This is the most common tactic. Concentrate on the setting and it appears. Travelling the dreamscape is intuitive that way.”

“I’ll try,” he croaked.

He focused on the sensation of running, the breath and the motions, because to him those were the most instinctual and therefore the easiest to imagine. He’d recently taken up running and it was freshest in his memory. Though his ribs ached with the effort, pain throbbing even through his chest and belly, the darkness around them shifted, color dripping into view like rain made of paint.

“Very good,” said Akki. “Continue.”

He imagined the path itself, the dirt and shed soft pine under the soles of his feet, and the sound of the river. More color made its way into the dream, dripping from nowhere and pooling to form the path on which he lay.

“Excellent.” Akki squeezed his hand. “Now the trees.”

He added curved trunks to the imagery, the sideways arches of the Crooked Forest, and they sprung into existence all around them, slithering up toward the sky.

Akki released his hand and unsheathed her sword. Jakub heard it slide out of the sheath, smooth and deadly. Then she approached the closest tree. She had to jump to do so, but she hacked away at a straight branch, hop-slashing until the branch fell.

“Thank you,” she told the tree before she brought the branch over to Jakub. After a measurement against his legs, she moved a little ways away and split the branch in two with her sword, which never seemed to dull. Jakub turned his head and watched her do it. The blackness of the blade seemed somehow deeper and bolder than the previous darkness of their surroundings. It was ominous, and he was glad it was on their side instead of whatever had caused him to fall. It wasn’t long before Akki had fashioned the makings of a splint out of the tree branch, and she also pulled a cloth out of thin air for the wrappings. Jakub wondered why this miracle couldn’t be applied to his own injuries and asked her. “The surroundings of a dreamscape are more malleable than a person or anything else that’s living, and while I may know first aid, I’m no master healer. Apologies.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” said Jakub. “Thank you.”

Akki nodded, and made to the task of wrapping the splints. It was agonizing and hurt more than anything in Jakub’s memory, and by the time it was done he was panting and crying at the same time, a miserable excuse for a person, and the thought had dawned on him that this might mean the end of his running career. He had to remind himself that he was dreaming and that all of this would likely go away upon waking. He hoped he hadn’t sleepwalked or flailed in a way that hurt himself for real.

“There,” said Akki. “All there is left is to wait. Unless you know the reason for this nightmare.”

“What do you mean?”

“Often times, if one knows the reason for a nightmare, it can be slain.”

“All that happened was I was running and I tripped. It doesn’t seem like the sort of thing that was brought on by anything. I’m normally a good runner, mindful of the path, so I don’t know why I tripped in the dreamscape, as you call it. Does being in a dream make people clumsier?”

“At times. But it can also make one more graceful. It depends on the dreamer and what their dream is.”

“I still don’t know how I hurt myself so badly. It’s embarrassing.”

“Then maybe embarrassment is the issue. What are you embarrassed of in waking life?”

Jakub didn’t see how this discussion would heal him any faster, no matter what Akki claimed, and he didn’t want to add an ego wound to the already painful physical ones, so he stayed quiet. But Akki stayed silent, and soon the waiting became unbearable.

“I lost a race,” said Jakub. “Came in dead last. I’d trained for weeks and I still failed.”

“That would be embarrassing.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping?”

“Apologies. Go on.”

“That’s it. That’s the embarrassing thing.”

“Then why does it bother you enough to conjure this nightmare?”

“Well…” Jakub winced. Talking hurt, but being silent hurt more because it made him focus on the pain. The conversation was a good distraction. “I didn’t take up running for me. I did it for a girl, and she was there. Winning.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

A breeze came through the forest, bringing with it the scent of pine. Jakub fidgeted. It sent fresh waves of pain through him and he gasped, unable to focus on the conversation any longer.

“Try to stay still,” said Akki. “And tell me more about this girl.”

“Why does that matter?”

“Do you not want to tell me?”

“I just don’t understand why it matters.”

“I suppose it doesn’t, if that’s your stance on it. I assumed there was something special about her. Was I erroneous in that assumption?”

“No.”

“Then perhaps I should rephrase. What about her made you want to impress her more than running the race for yourself?”

“This isn’t a me versus her thing. It’s a love thing.”

“Ah. Apologies.”

“Why do you apologize about everything?”

“It’s a habit, I suppose. Does it bother you?”

“No. Well, maybe. I hate hearing women apologize. They’ve usually got nothing to apologize for. It’s like they’re sorry for existing, and that’s fucked up.”

“…I almost apologized for apologizing.”

“See? It’s fucked up.”

“Are you sorry you ran the race?”

“Huh?”

“The race. Because you embarrassed yourself, are you sorry you ran it?”

“Of course not.”

At that, some of the pain receded. Jakub found he could wriggle his toes.

“Then the experience was worth the embarrassment?” asked Akki.

“Well, I did get to spend time with her.” Suddenly, his tailbone felt better. “Or behind her. That came out wrong.”

“You must really love this mysterious woman.” Akki smirked. “Why not focus on the time spent together instead of imagined slights.”

“It wasn’t imagined. I lost the race. What if she thinks I’m lame now?”

“I doubt that.”

“How come?”

“Because it’s unreasonable to think someone lame if they can run.”

“I think you’re missing my point.”

“You think so?”

“Obviously. It’s lame to lose. And now I’m afraid of losing her. I’ve been dumped over less.”

“If that’s how you think, then there’s not much I can do for you.” Akki stood and stared down at him. It seemed to Jakub she was staring down her nose at him. Which was embarrassing. His toes started hurting again. “Until you can have more reasonable expectations for yourself, I’m afraid this nightmare might be impossible to slay.”

“So you’re leaving me?”

“No. I’m standing. Waiting. Whatever made you trip might take a form I can damage. Although, based on what you’ve told me, it might not. I’ll wait and see.”

“You might be waiting a long time.”

“Perhaps.”

“I might not be worth the wait.”

“Why say something akin to that?”

“Because it’s true!”

“I don’t think so. Everyone gets injured at some point in their lives, and even more lose at something they’ve tried. It doesn’t make them any less valuable as people. Unless you think that way about others, don’t apply that sort of defeatist thinking toward yourself. It amounts to self-torture. I would know.” There was a time when Akki berated herself for every little flaw, back when she was training to slay nightmares. “It leads to nowhere.”

There was a long pause which made Jakub antsy. He found the more he lay there, the more fidgety he became. His body hurt, but his mind wanted to do something. Energy with nowhere to direct it became added pain, and instead of letting it flatten him more, he got himself up off the ground by willpower. Akki put out an arm to steady him and smiled.

“Back on your feet. Good.”

“Better than lying there like an invalid.”

“That’s the spirit!”

The longer he stood in defiance of his pain, the less pain there was. He found he had control over his limbs too, despite not being able to move them only moments ago. A small part of him wondered if Akki were doing something to assist besides holding him up, but he didn’t want to follow that thought-thread. It didn’t particularly matter to Jakub how the pain had receded, only that it had.

“Now why not test your power over the dreamscape?”

“The same way as how I got us here?”

“Precisely.”

This time, held up by Akki’s strong grip, Jakub imagined the woman he’d fallen in love with. She swirled into view a foot down the path, weaving into existence from the soles of her feet all the way up to the crown of her head. She had the slight but enduring figure of a runner and wore nothing. Akki politely averted her gaze.

“A guy could get used to this,” said Jakub, and before he knew it, he was out of Akki’s arms and into his love’s, all that pain forgotten.

Akki took her leave.