#1Lucid dream
Chapter One: A Lucid Dream
Yellow Star sat atop a tall totem pole.
He looked down at the unfamiliar world below.
Glowing vines wrapped around thick, ancient trees.
Sparkling blue motes of light drifted in the air, and in the distance, winged creatures flew across a purple sky.
Everything was strange and beautiful… but Yellow Star felt a profound calm.
He knew he was dreaming, a lucid dream.
Here, he could do anything he wished.
Soon, dusk fell, and night arrived.
Then, the stars lit up one by one.
It wasn't the sparse, familiar night sky he knew, but a brilliant river of light formed by billions of stars.
Below the totem pole, a bonfire blazed in the clearing.
The leaping flames illuminated the Tribesmen, their bodies painted with ochre, wearing simple leather skirts.
The crowd parted.
A stooped Old Priest, adorned with heavy feather ornaments, walked with faltering steps to the base of the totem pole.
He raised his hands and began to chant in an ancient, obscure language, his voice hoarse yet full of power.
The syllables were twisted and strange; Yellow Star was certain he had never heard them before, yet he strangely understood their meaning.
"Oh, great lord of the stars,"
the Old Priest cried, "please bless your people…"
When he heard "lord of the stars,"
a strange feeling suddenly arose in Yellow Star's heart, as if the priest was calling to him.
However, he quickly dismissed the thought; it was just a dream, so any strange feeling was not surprising.
The priest's chanting reached its climax.
He brandished his bone staff, and three children, who appeared to be only five or six years old, respectfully walked to the totem pole.
The priest looked up at the starry sky and continued to pray:
"Great Lord!"
"Please have mercy on your servants, bestow your grace, and guide the Tribe's path forward!"
Oh?
Is this… asking me to bestow a blessing?
Yellow Star raised an eyebrow, finding the dream's plot increasingly interesting.
Playing a deity for a while seemed like a good diversion.
He looked at the three youths and decided the one in the middle looked the most pleasing to the eye.
You, then.
As his casual thought settled.
The totem pole, which had stood for an untold number of years.
Suddenly erupted with a dazzling, blinding light that shot straight into the sky.
At the same time.
Above the firmament, the starlight rippled, becoming even more brilliant, like a cascading waterfall of light.
The Tribesmen below fell to their knees with a rustle.
Even the Old Priest trembled with excitement, prostrating himself and not daring to rise.
Meanwhile, the youth standing in the middle was enveloped by a pillar of starlight, his figure instantly vanishing from where he stood.
The youth felt himself cast into an boundless sea of stars, with swirling constellations above, below, and all around.
At the center of this stellar ocean.
A figure, whose grandeur defied description, was encircled by countless stars.
He strained to look up, but all he could glimpse was a wisp of light flowing beneath the deity's feet.
A voice spoke, calm, indifferent, with an ancient, unchanging laziness, resonating directly in the depths of his soul:
"From now on, you shall be leo, the first of My Twelve Constellations…"
"Henceforth, you shall be called Apollo."
…Yellow Star awoke to the familiar sound of his phone alarm.
He opened his eyes, and instead of the fantastical world, he saw the slightly worn ceiling of his rented room.
Outside the window, the hustle and bustle of the city's morning filled the air; everything seemed to return to reality.
He got up as usual, washed, squeezed onto the subway, and went to work.
The tedious work and the day-in, day-out routine did not make him feel as dull as usual; on the contrary, his mood today was inexplicably light and pleasant.
Because that vivid dream remained in his memory, not blurring upon waking.
Especially the youth he casually named "Apollo," his fearful yet devout expression, was quite amusing to recall.
"To remember it so clearly, this dream was certainly worth it."
He thought to himself while processing documents.
Night fell again, and Yellow Star, with a hint of unacknowledged anticipation, drifted into sleep.
In a trance, the rough, hard texture of the totem pole once again met his feet.
He had indeed returned here.
"Still a continuous dream? Interesting."
Yellow Star looked around and found the Tribe's atmosphere completely different from last night.
People's faces no longer held numbness and pleading, but were instead filled with smiles of ease and hope; even the sounds of children running and playing seemed exceptionally joyful.
"What good thing happened?"
Just as he wondered, he heard a commotion from the outskirts of the Tribe.
He saw Apollo walking in the lead, followed by a team of strong young men carrying game.
The prey was an enormous wild ox, its size comparable to an RV in the real world; just looking at it, one could feel its ferocity in life.
Now, it was being laboriously carried back by more than a dozen people.
The entire Tribe instantly erupted!
People cheered and surged forward, looking at the massive prey, their eyes filled with hunger and reverence for Apollo.
"Thanks to the great lord of the stars!"
"It is the Lord's grace! It is the grace brought by Apollo!"
Many people excitedly knelt towards the totem pole, loudly praising the "greatness" and "benevolence" of the god.
Yellow Star listened to the noisy praises below and gradually understood.
It turned out that after he casually bestowed the title of "leo, one of the Twelve Constellations" upon this youth, originally named "Lin."
He seemed to have genuinely acquired some kind of extraordinary power.
He was able to single-handedly hunt such a giant beast, which previously required the combined strength of the entire Tribe to barely contend with.
The Tribe thus obtained abundant food and no longer suffered from hunger.
Watching everyone joyfully process the wild ox, Yellow Star felt that the dream's "plot" was quite self-consistent.
Soon, the wild ox was completely butchered.
Apollo reverently carried the still faintly beating heart to the altar at the base of the totem pole.
He carefully placed the heart.
Then he knelt, looking up at the totem, saying with excitement and piety:
"God, Apollo thanks You for Your grace, granting me great strength so that everyone can eat their fill."
"I offer my heart to You, may You be pleased."
Yellow Star sat at the top of the totem pole, resting his chin on his hand, watching the scene unfold.
He found Apollo's piety amusing.
But he felt no interest in the bloody heart, even a slight aversion.
After all, it looked too gruesome.
Perhaps because that so-called "blessing" truly established some mysterious connection.
Apollo sensed Yellow Star's indifferent, even slightly displeased, emotion.
The excitement and joy on the youth's face instantly froze, turning into immense fear.
He prostrated himself, his voice trembling:
"God!"
"Do You… dislike this offering?"
"Did Apollo do something wrong to displease You? I beg Your forgiveness, I beg You to appease Your wrath…"
His fear infected everyone around him.
The festive atmosphere instantly vanished.
The entire Tribe fell silent, everyone kneeling in trepidation, not daring to look up