memoryoftrees | The stuff dreams are made of (Reply)

Fantasia.

It is more than just being "The stuff dreams are made of.", far more.

Or this is what Bastian Balthazar Bux decides as he sits beside his mother, his mother, gazing down at the Valley of the Dragonspines. She's been in his dreams for so long, and Bastian had longed to be with his mother again for what felt like an eternity, that for the longest time after he'd makes his wish, he could not bring himself to look at her.

*Her* hands reaches out, and clasps his. She feels so real, so warm that Bastian finds himself fighting back tears.

"Bastian—" her much missed, and melodious voice begins, "My sweet boy, what is it? What's wrong?"

Bastian feels her free hand carding through his hair, and he closes his eyes.

Gosh, how he's missed this so much!

For all his efforts at trying to understand, his Dad had never ever understood Bastian the way his mother had. No, Amaris Amelia Alexander Bux had done everything she could to encourage, as well as, nurture her son's love of the fantastical. When she died, Bastian's world shattered and his loss was immeasurable because no one, no one would or could understand Bastian like his mother.

*No one*.

Bastian looks at his mother, "Nothing's wrong, Mom. I'm just so happy to see you that's all and... and..."

"And what, sweetheart?"

"I don't want this to ever. I want to stay here forever. I want to stay in Fantasia forever."

"Then you can, Bastian. You don't ever have to leave," she said, wrapping an arm around him.

Bastian let her pull him close, and turns to watch the sunset.