Book2:KigdomIteDreams (第64/246页)

ouatleasttellmewhenallthiswillhappen?”KingDimitriimmediatelyasked.Stephaniewasgoingfast.Shemaosaybyfitsandstarts,

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    “......whenbloodseepsoutofthebareyellowsoilofGiantMountain......whenbloodspeakswithahumanvoice......thenitistime......thenitistime......”Upsetanddisturbed,KingDimitricouldo,

    “WhenbloodseepsoutofthebareyellowsoilofGiantMountaihebloodspeakswithahumanvoice.Thenitistime.Thenitistime.”EuphoriacameoverStephanie’sbodyandsoul,bringieure.yandsatisfiedsmile,sheclosedhereyesandgaveupherspirit.

    Amagnifitrainboearedintheskiesacrosstheke.PetalsoffreshflowerscoveredStephanie’sbody,forthebeautieshadarrivedtootetobidfarewelltotheirformerpanionandcouldonlycoverherwiththeirfloral.Suddenlyalovely,melodiousvoicebrokeintosongandthebeautiesalljoinedherinachorus:

    Whoisitthatishidingbehindtheendlessblueskies?

    Itisyou.Itisyourmellifluousvoice.

    Whoisitthatiswalkingamongtheflowersinthespringrain?

    Itisyou.Itistherustleofyarments.

    Whoisitthathaslosttheribbononherhair,colorfusarainbowacrosstheskies?

    Itisyou.Itistheoryouusuallywear.

    Whoisitthatisstarilydowhliketheremnantlightofthesettingsun?

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    Itisyou.Itisyouralluriimentaleyes.

    Whoisitthatbrokethroughthebarrierofdarkcloudsandlikethemoonhastenstorendezvouswithmyriadsofstars?

    Itisyou.YouaretheonewhomImostwishwouldeinmydreams.

    Sosinging,thebeautiesfollowedKingDimitrioutofthegoldpace.Hegazedattherainbowacrosstheskiesaboveandthenlookeddownontheheavyyellowsoilbehhisfeet.InhishearthesilentlyrepeatedStephawordstohim.Herprophesy.

    Chapter7Dream-maker’sBakery

    Dimitriwokeupshiveringinthechillywind.Heopenedhiseyesandlookedaround.Everythingitchdark,sohekhenthathewasbackagaininthemundaneworldwherehewasahomelessblindmancursedbyfate.Hemutteredtohimself,“Whereismymajestigdom?Mymagnifitpace?Wherearemytlessbeautiesandthenewlystructedsolidgoldpace?Aretheyonlyfancifulcreationsofmydreams?No.No.Itshouldn’tbelikethat!Eveniftheyaredreams,theyarethefruitoftheborofmybraincells.No,theyotbeonlydreams.”Havingjustwakenedup,Dimitriwasagaihought.Herememberedoernoonwhenheandhisbeautieswerewhilingawaysometimebythesideoftheke.Thewarmsunandspringbreezemadehimdrowsyandhefelsleep.Hedreamedhesawaraggedvagabondwithawhitee,strugglingalonginadensefog,obviouslyablindman.No.Thatblindmanwashimselfbecauseherememberedhecouldonlydisfuzzylightandshadowyformsofpeople.Allofasuddenhemissedhisstepandfellintoswiftcurrentsofwater.Hecriedoutinfrightandwokeuptoseethebeautiessmilingathiminamusement.Oneofhisfeetwassoakedinthecrystalclearkewater!Atthetime,Dimitrireallydidn’tknowwherehewas.Hewastotallylost,fusedandbefuddled.WasitKingDimitriwhodreamedofapoorblindman,orwasittheblindvagabondwhodreamedofthehonorable,majestigDimitri?Realityanddreams–whichisreandwhichisfantasy?Perhapsbothwerereal,orbothwereunreal.Real,lifemayberal,situatedbetweendreamay.Orperhapsrealityisdreamsanddreamsarereality.Thetwoaresuperimposed,withnotraceofreality.Theidwaftedovermouth-wateringsmellofnewlybakedbr