The Chronicles Of The Dream Catcher: The Astral Flames, #1

By Gabrielle Maya Bodhl

The Chronicles Of The Dream Catcher - The Astral Flames

Embark on an extraordinary journey through realms beyond your wildest dreams in "The Chronicles of The Dream Catcher: The Astral Flames," the first thrilling installment of an epic new series. Gabriella Maya Bodhl, a seemingly ordinary middle aged woman, discovers she is anything but. Plagued by vivid dreams, Gabi learns she is a Dreamwalker, a rare and powerful being destined to traverse and shape the very fabric of reality.

Gabi's world is shattered when her brother Elias reveals the truth about her identity and the immense power she holds. As they delve deeper into the mystery of her abilities, they uncover an ancient map leading to four legendary artifacts: The Astral Flames, The Crystal of Time, The Staff of Balance, and The Crown of Enlightenment. These relics are the key to mastering her powers and protecting the delicate balance between light and shadow.

Their quest is fraught with peril. From the ever-shifting Maze of Shadows to the time-warping Lost City of Eternia, from the arcane defenses of the Forbidden Temple to the ethereal heights of the Mountains of Solitude, Gabi and Elias face challenges that test their strength, courage, and sibling bond.

But they are not alone in their quest. The sinister soul devourer Hiraeth, a nightmarish entity fueled by despair and vengeance, seeks to thwart their mission at every turn. Her grotesque form and dark spells are a constant reminder of the high stakes. The clock is ticking, and the darkness threatens to consume their world.

Gabi, with her indomitable spirit and newfound powers, must confront not just external dangers but also the darkness within herself. Her journey is one of self-discovery, where she learns that the greatest power lies within. She is brave, determined, and fiercely protective of those she loves—a relatable heroine in an unimaginable situation.

What sets "The Chronicles of The Dream Catcher" apart is its unique blend of magic, mythology, and the exploration of dreams as a gateway to other realms. The intricate world-building and the rich tapestry of fantastical elements create a vivid backdrop for Gabi's quest. Each realm they traverse is distinct, filled with wonders and dangers that keep readers on the edge of their seats.

"The Chronicles of The Dream Catcher: The Astral Flames" is a spellbinding tale of magic, adventure, and self-discovery. It is a story about the power of dreams and the courage to face the unknown. As Gabi navigates through realms of wonder and peril, she discovers that the greatest power lies within herself.

Join Gabi on her epic quest to uncover the secrets of the Dreamwalker and save her world from impending doom. Will she master the Astral Flames in time, or will the darkness prevail? Dive into this enchanting tale and let your imagination soar beyond the boundaries of reality. The adventure begins here—step into a world where dreams are the key to unlocking unimaginable power and where every choice can alter the fate of multiple realms.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Gabrielle Maya Bodhl
• Release date: Jun 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227954299

Book preview

Gabriella Maya Bodhl

CHAPTER 1:

AWAKENING

The alarm’s wail pierced the pre-dawn silence, dragging me from the murky depths of sleep. My hand groped blindly, silencing the infernal noise. 3:33 AM glared at me from the clock, an unwanted intruder in my restless nights. For months now, the alarm had been going off at this unholy hour, though I never set it. A shiver ran through me as a memory of my recent dreams gnawed at the edges of my consciousness.

These dreams had driven me to seek answers in the most arcane of places, leading me to read books on self-discovery, lucid dreaming, astral projection, the Gateway Hemi-Sync Method and consulted my cousin who’s a medium, what he could tell me is that my ancestors will reveal the message of what must be done in due course. Each night, as I practiced, I hoped to unravel the mysteries that haunted my sleep. And each night, I was drawn deeper into an abyss of questions.

As I drifted back into sleep, I found myself once again transported to a place unknown.

Ifound myself in a sanctum untouched by time's relentless march—a room where centuries lay fossilized in the very stone. The walls, scarred by the talons of forgotten epochs, whispered hushed tales with each weathered crevice. The air itself was a relic, heavy with the musty essence of antiquity, as if the very concept of age had permeated the mortar between those venerable blocks.

Beneath my feet, a carpet of undisturbed dust blanketed the uneven floor, each granule a tiny hourglass marking the slow decay of ages. My footfalls violated that pristine desolation, leaving fresh imprints that marred the silent oath of neglect sworn by this forsaken place. 

A lone window, its pane warped and hazed by the inexorable flow of centuries, offered the dim chamber's only portal to the realm beyond. Through that frosted glass, the world outside resolved into a surreal, dreamlike vista—one at once alien and hauntingly familiar.

An endless expanse unfurled before me, a verdant sea of emerald fields undulating in a breeze I could not feel. Those rolling waves crested against the shores of majestic peaks that rose like slumbering leviathans, their crowning slopes wreathed in swirling gossamer—misty apparitions waltzing in the sky's embrace.

The sun's radiance filtered through that diaphanous veil, bathing the landscape in hues of burnished gold and fathomless shadow. Each hill and valley seemed sculpted from the stuff of ethereal imaginings, painted in the unearthly glow of a masterwork crafted by forces beyond mortal ken.

Where...? The whispered word withered on my lips, smothered by the oppressive silence that Reigned over this hushed dominion. The feeble utterance echoed with lonely desperation before being subsumed into the primeval stones—each block an obsidian tomb sealing away secrets that predated the dawn of reason.

On a table nearby lay an old leather-bound book, its presence exuding an aura of mystery and age. The leather was worn, the color of ancient oak, and creased with the wisdom of countless hands that had turned its pages over the centuries. As I approached, the air seemed to thicken with a palpable sense of history, each step reverberating through the stillness of the room.

I reached out and touched the cover, the texture rough yet strangely comforting, like the grip of a long-lost friend. The book seemed to hum under my fingers, a faint vibration that sent shivers down my spine. Its pages, yellowed and brittle, whispered secrets that had been locked away for ages. I hesitated, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing down on me.

With a deep breath, I opened the book. The scent of old paper and ink, mingled with the faintest hint of must, enveloped me. The text within was in a language I didn’t recognize, the characters twisting and curling like tendrils of smoke. But as my eyes traced the lines, the words began to shift and dance, rearranging themselves into a form I could understand.

It was a journal, each entry a window into the soul of a man who had once walked these lands. His life, his love, and his struggles were laid bare on the brittle pages, the ink faded but the emotions still vivid and raw. As I read, a strange kinship formed between us, as if his soul reached out across time to mine, bridging the gap between past and present.

The first entry spoke of his arrival in this strange realm, the awe and fear he felt upon discovering a world so different from his own. His descriptions were rich and vivid, painting a picture of verdant fields stretching endlessly, mountains looming in the distance like ancient sentinels, their peaks shrouded in swirling mists. The air was thick with the scent of wildflowers and the distant, mournful cries of unseen creatures.

As I turned the pages, his narrative grew darker. He wrote of the shadows that crept into his dreams, the nights spent in restless sleep, haunted by visions of a looming threat. His fear was palpable, seeping into my own thoughts like a cold mist. He spoke of a Nightmare King who was imprisoned by the Dreambenders into an unknown distant universe and her daughter, Nightmare Princess, a figure of dread and malevolence, her eyes like black holes that swallowed light and hope. She wants to succeed where her father could not by merging the multiverses into one.

The more I read, the more I felt his despair. He described the creatures that roamed the lands, both wondrous and terrifying. Fairies with delicate wings that shimmered in the moonlight, their laughter like tinkling bells, and specters born of nightmares, their forms shifting and insubstantial, eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. His encounters with these beings were fraught with danger, each step a test of his courage and resolve.

One entry detailed his meeting with the Gatekeeper, the man who had greeted him in this very room. The writer’s awe and respect for the Gatekeeper were evident, his words filled with reverence. He described the Gate Keeper’s piercing blue eyes, the way they seemed to see into the very core of his being, and the sense of calm that his presence brought.

But beneath the surface, there was a growing tension. The writer spoke of a rising darkness, a sense of impending doom that pervaded the land. His words were laced with fear and determination, a desperate need to find a way to fight back, to save the world he had come to love.

As I reached the final entries, the tone shifted once more. There was a note of resignation, a sense of acceptance of his fate. He wrote of his final stand, the battle that would decide the fate of the realm. His words were a plea, a message to whoever might find the journal: Do not give up. Fight with everything you have. You are the hope of this universe.

I closed the book, the weight of his words settling heavily on my shoulders. The room around me seemed darker, the shadows deeper, as if the very air was charged with the echoes of his struggle. A chill ran through me, and I shivered, feeling his presence linger.

The kinship I felt with him was stronger now, a bond forged through the shared burden of destiny. His soul had reached out to mine, a hand extended across the chasm of time, and I had grasped it. His struggles were now mine, his fight my own.

As I stood there, the book clutched in my hands, I knew that I could not turn back. The journey ahead was fraught with danger, but I was not alone. The writer’s spirit, his courage, and determination were with me. I was part of a legacy, a chain of warriors who had stood against the darkness, and I would not falter.

I placed the book back on the table, my resolve hardening. With a final glance at the book, I turned and walked towards the door, ready to step into the unknown and embrace my destiny. The shadows seemed to part before me, the way forward illuminated by the faint glow of hope. This was my journey, my battle to win or lose, and I would fight with everything I had.

The door creaked open behind me. I turned to face a man, tall and lean, a figure untouched by the ravages that had stripped the centuries bare—the Gatekeeper, an eternal sentry guarding the veil between worlds. They were clad in armor honed to mercurial perfection by the relentless abrasion of ages. What may have once been pristine steel plates were now a palimpsest etched with the faded glyphs of sagas lost to the oblivion of myth.

Every battle-worn curve of that arcane panoply whispered of eons spent holding the tides of oblivion at bay with neither flinch nor surrender. Yet it was the Gate Keeper's aspect that commanded true reverence—a visage that had borne witness to the birth and death throes of universes.

Their eyes smoldered like the cosmic furnaces that had forged the first atoms of creation, twin pools of searing quintessence that pierced through the veil of reality to glimpse the ineffable mysteries pulsing just beyond perception's reach. And etched into the very sinew of their ageless flesh writhed the indelible markings of eldritch tongues—utterances of power that had inscribed the fundamental laws woven into existence's immaculate tapestry.

As I drew near, each step seemed to profane the hallowed ground before this eternal bastion. The Gate Keeper's luminous gaze fell upon me, weighing my essence against the cosmic balance they had sworn to uphold since the first dawn sparked in the endless night.

In that moment, I felt the weight of Infinities, of Realms whose very concepts defied the feeble constructs of mortal philosophies. My throat constricted with the presence of such primeval quintessence given form before me. What meager words could convey the breadth of that which had transcended the Eons?

So I could only hold that unyielding scrutiny with silent deference, until at last, the Gatekeeper gave an imperceptible nod—an eyelid's flicker across the cosmos. As if obeying that smallest of motions, reality itself seemed to part its gossamer veil, revealing a luminous path into the Realm Beyond.

Who are you? I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.

I am the Gatekeeper, he said, his voice a deep, calming rumble. And you are the one we have been waiting for.

The one you've been waiting for? I echoed, confusion twisting in my gut.

Yes, he replied, his gaze unwavering. You are the one who will save our world from destruction.

I laughed, a nervous, disbelieving sound. What are you talking about?

The Gatekeeper sighed, a sound laden with centuries of burden. Trust me. You are the only one who can stop the nightmare that is coming.

I don't understand, I said, shaking my head. I don't even know where I am.

You are in the Realm of Dreams, he explained. "A place where the boundaries between reality and imagination blur. You have been traveling