"Where am I?" wondered the lost soul, that which had been known once as the King of Dreams, among other things.

He (or maybe just IT, now?) thought when he had died that he would simply cease to exist. Well, he had no body now, but he had thought before he'd died that abody was ALL he had been. Wasn't being one of the Endless enough?

Abruptly he became aware that he was not alone. It was not that he HAD been alone, and suddenly wasn't, but rather that he was suddenly aware of what he had not been. And he was getting more confused by the minute.

"Come, he-who-was-Dream-and-is-still-my-brother."

He now was aware that the presence with him had shape. And now he recognized it as Death, one of the Endless. One who was STILL endless.

He had questions. The dead ALWAYS had them, he supposed. He didn't know what question to ask first, so he asked that which was spurred by her, and the least of them.

"Still? As you say, I am not Dream, Death. Does that not mean I am also no longer your brother?" He felt strange calling her by name. As an Endless, he had never done that.

She laughed, and her laughter was short and sharp as a gasp yet lingering as the echo of bells.

And he realised that she was more than he had known her to be. And he knew that she had ALWAYS been so, that he had never noticed. Was this because being Dream had limited him somehow? What WAS he now? That was his next question, and he asked it without waiting for an answer to the first.

You ARE still Dream, and so am I, Morpheus. When we change, we never loose what we were because we all ARE, and ever will be all that is. ALL of us. You, me, the gods, the humans, the cats and dogs and microscopic germs, we are all each other, all at once, Morpheus. Know this in the moment all you have forgotten-- you have little time to remember before you forget again. You were not the first Dream, Morpheus. Many times already I have had this conversation, and several of them with you. You remember what I told you about Nada?"

"What? What has that to do--"

"Have you ever thought about how different you looked, when you first met her?"

"I... I was DREAM, I could take whatever form I wanted--"

"I suppose, but that's NOT why you looked different. You were a different Dream then. And when Nada died, you died soon after. You decided that, if being Dream meant you could not love and be loved, you would not be Dream. So you died and lived again as a mortal. You lived SEVERAL lives as a mortal. But Nada was still in hell, you could not be with her. So eventually you decided to come back. And that was not the second time you had been Dream-- you have been Dream many times before that. Every time you found you could not do more with what you were, that you needed to dwell among men again, AS a man, to know what men truly need to dream. And now you will again-- the question is, as WHO?"

He did not believe what she said, but as she said it, he remembered, and knew she spoke truth. But he wasn't going to let her off the hook so easily-- she still had not answered all his questions.

"So is that what you mean by me still being your brother? Daniel is Dream, now, HE is your brother, not I. Even if I WILL become Dream again, someday."

She laughed again, and it was the sound of the earth trembling and the sea breaking upon the shore. "Even the Endless haven't quite got it right, Dream , in how this universe works. We KNOW things, remember past selves as if they are our own just as Daniel remembers YOUR life as Dream. All that we do as an Endless is a part of that Endless. I was once Delirium. You'd be surprised how often we trade the roles with others. And in the way of the Endless, we mourn and move on, and soon forget that a change was ever made, so that it seems as though it was ALWAYS so."

It was the way she said Endless that unsettled him-- well, as unsettled as one could get without a body. She sounded like she hadn't meant the Family at all.

"The Creator wasn't the first."

"... What?" he asked absently, still mulling over what had already been said.

"The Creator, Heaven. Hell, the angels, they were not the first Creation. Just as you were not the first Dream. There have been many creation tales, many gods. Gaia and Uranus were once 'the thang'. As men forgot them and moved on, so did we. The old gods are still there, and will be so long as one book remains with their names. That's what Lucien is for-- he keeps the dreams alive by tending their stories. The souls that were thrown out of hell-- they could have gone to Tartaris, or Hel's realm, if they had believed in them. I tell you, my job is much easier among the Hindu and the Buddhists and the Pagans! I just have to help them orient themselves as they head to the next body!"

"So what WAS the first Creator?"

"Eh? Oh, I dunno." She shrugged. "Before my time. Even when I am not helping the dying, I don't remember HALF of what I am telling you now. It's just that I see these things, at this time, this moment when I'm with those that are 'in between'. If any being knew what things were really like ALL THE TIME, they might stop moving altogether. It's my job to keep things moving. Or they might try to redo everything, make the world their own." She scowled. "We had a problem with one Dream that told a mortal how to do that. Then the next told another, and soon enough we had this bloody awful power struggle between cats and humans-- ugh, I don't like to think about it, it makes my head hurt. Anyway, I guess what I'm saying is that reality is what each and every being makes of it, from the Creator to the smallest microscopic being. None is more important than another, none has more clout, we simply tell ourselves that because it's easier. It's easier to let someone ELSE be responsible. The Endless, they are just concepts, but even concepts can be given life. That's how the gods were created-- events were anthropomorphisized, given form, a shell, in the dream realm. Spirit was there, as it is in all things, and a soul is formed by the shell's experience. It's like pouring hot metal into a mold. The metal is nothing but material at first, but when it's broken free from it's mold, it has definition. The Endless are actions given life. But they are deeper than gods, because they are there whether humans or any other creature anthropomorphisize them or not. The Endless are the forces that shape THEM. It's a big responsibility. Who could fault any of us for taking a vacation now and again? So you see, brother, THAT is how you are a soul right now, when you thought you were only a concept. Dream was just an action, but soul gave it life. Dream connects all things, reminds us that we are never apart, as does Death. Desire, Destiny-- these are things the whole of reality knows." She smiled ruefully. "Delirium is a newer, strictly human experience, I think. What else could come of their taking Delight in directions she was never meant to go? You were right when you told Desire that we live to serve them, not the other way around. I think.. I think what decisions the Endless make are in tandem with what the mortals decide-- in essence, we are simply reflections of their whims. Its why we keep changing, and never question, how what was NEVER becomes what had EVER BEEN. Why, soon it will be as if Daniel has ALWAYS been Dream."

"Then... I will be forgotten. Why did I ever fret over decisions I made, why should I care now what happens?"

"No, you haven't been listening!" She smiled as she chided him, and it was like the sun peeking through a stormcloud. Yet she ever reminded him of the moon shining brightly on a clear night.

"Daniel will remember what YOU have done as if HE had done it. It STILL happened-- it's the office that bears the consequences. And you know full well from experience that dreams can have catastrophic effects on reality. Like the brain records memories, so does the role of an Endless. The memories are necessary for the continuing function of it. You, as a soul, must ALSO keep your own experiences, but it is the law of mortals that they not remember them. As for being remembered... you have changed things, Morpheus. Morpher. Shaper. Earth is becoming something else now. You, YOUR soul, was the seed. The rules are changing. Despair will remember you, YOU, when, as Destiny will say, we are not supposed to. Delirium remembered HER death, when we were not meant to. I suppose part of it is there roles-- Delirium sees all sorts of things that make no sense to others, and it is a moment of great despair for all of us, Your death, Morpheus. I daresay others will too. Matthew will, I know. Nothing is ever truly gone or forgotten, only hidden until we need to remember again. Energy is never lost, only changed. Nothing can EVER disappear."

Something changed in her presence. Her demeanor became as one "getting down to business". "Now, I have others to take care of. As special as you are to me, I cannot stop the movement of the world for you. You must choose a new life."

He had a sudden feeling of pressure, and knew time was short. Were the sands he had commanded once-- many times?-- those of time rather than dreams, he might well have chosen a favorite moment with his sister and stopped them forever. He felt an overwhelming sense of loss, not over his life but the sense that soon he was about to forget everything. He knew what he was feeling from her now, knew what she had been trying to tell him. That she was not Death any more than he, the soul that was Morpheus, was Dream, yet they both were each and more. That every soul came from spirit, whatever THAT was, and had a part of the Endless in them. That those who were known by those titles were simply those who were elected to oversee those matters, leaving everyone else free to live, and die, and live again. Everyone took turns. It was a pulse, a breath. Movement. And he knew suddenly that he was in the presence of more than Death, or the soul that he knew as his sister. Every thought, every idea, every moment, all matter , all souls, made up this. The moment after "death", before moving on. And he knew he had to move on, that to stop was to stop existence from moving. But he still had a question.

"What WAS it you had told me about Nada?"

"That you had to make right what you had done to her, of course! YOU were the Dream that had imprisoned her, you had to set her free. And now she is, and not long into her new life. You could be MORTALS together, Morpheus."

He nodded, as well as a soul could without a body. "I know, as I knew the dreams of all beings, who I will choose, Midwife."

His sister seemed surprised. He felt great warmth from her, as one feels from a sister, but also a lover, and from a parent, love and hope of new beginnings, and the bittersweet sadness of a widow or childless mother.

"It has been so long since Death was called the Midwife. I had thought all had forgotten that name. You will bring great changes yet, Morphie, even as you leave the Endless to be a mortal again. Maybe one day this soul will join you among them..."

And with that, Morpheus's next words were a cry as his-- no, HER, for he was a girlchild-- little lungs tasted air again for the first time.

Drums beat around her, and she felt the hot-cold gusts of wind over a fire. An old woman's hands held her up to the sky, the Moon smiling on her as she shouted "We welcome this little one into the world! May the god and goddess watch over her always!"

She felt the warm arms of her mother hold her close, felt her father's hand stroke her fine baby hair. Her infant brain heard but did not register her mother's words.

"I'm so glad I had her before we made the trip to Hong Kong! Imagine if I had gone into labor on the plane!"

Nada... was the thought she had before dreams claimed her and the last of her memories.