At times, Turaga Vakama dreamt of stars.

He dreamt of space completely unbounded, of planets and galaxies and universes stretching out beyond comprehension, packed with stories and struggles and losses and victories and life and danger.

And then he would open his eyes and see the walls of his hut in New Atero, the torch in the corner of the room flickering and casting shadows across the wall.

At times he would lift himself from where he slept, take his staff, and hobble out into the streets of their city, a hodgepodge of half-finished buildings, and walk for a while. Matoran and Toa greeted him warmly. Agori and Glatorian greeted him cordially - but that was good enough.

Once he was startled to find an old friend on a walk of her own, staff in one hand, tablet in another, heading back from a long night at the school, and together they walked and spoke of days gone by and days yet to come.

She never asked him if he still had visions, and so he never told her of his stars.

Another time he came upon the Toa he'd almost come to think of as family, and the two of them walked and he listened to his son describe the struggles he still faced in uniting the Agori and Matoran.

And his son never asked him if he still had visions, and so he never told him that his stars were getting smaller, that at night he no longer saw galaxies or universes, only a single planet, and he never told him that he feared that perhaps the planet was theirs.

But another time he stumbled upon two Toa he'd known well even as Matoran, and simply smiled and shook his head as the former Ga-Matoran insisted that she'd just been getting some dirt off her companion's mask, which was as red and unblemished as ever. And the three walked and he offered a few old tales to them, because that was what was expected.

And they never asked him if he still had visions, and so he never told them that yes, he did, but it was alright.

That night he bade them farewell and returned to his hut, leaned his staff against the small forge he kept, and laid himself down to rest. And he dreamt of a planet so far away, of its cities that put Metru Nui to shame and of heroes and villains, and when Turaga Vakama awoke he smiled, because it had nothing at all to do with any of them.

Oops I accidentally a Harlan Ellison reference in the title.

In all seriousness, I think I'll post each of my entries in this contest here on the blog as well. It'll be a lot easier to keep track of them, and if anyone has any critiques/comments (always welcome) they can just leave them here.