The Carnival of Dreams – Pt. 1

Story by Bill Rowan (BR.)

Welcome to my carnival, stranger. Here dreams and nightmares can become reality. Once you enter you may never be the same. Are you brave enough to step into my world?

Olde Days
Robert was a very average man in all respects. He was neither classically handsome nor profoundly wise, just average. At 45, he lived an average life with an average job making an average wage. Like most men stuck in mediocrity, he dreamed of a life better than the one he had. His fondest desire was to be a knight of Camelot and have great adventures with Arthur.

One day Robert happened upon a travelling carnival. Sweet sounds from a carousel floated on the gentle breeze. He could not resist the lure.

As he walked the grounds, he saw tents and booths proclaiming a myriad of wonders – oracles, worldly treasures, love potions, and more. There were no fast roller coasters or rides to spin you into oblivion. All around him were people having a good time, enjoying all that life had to offer if only for a short while. Robert chanced upon a brightly colored tent with a single word hanging over its entrance “DESIRE”.  Intrigued, Robert entered.

Once inside, the noise and bustle he had come from were no longer heard. The tent was dimly lit by candles in standing tripod sconces and an intoxicating scent of sweet jasmine wafted on the air. Thin drapes of silk and lace fell from the upper nether regions, seemingly suspended in midair. Sitting in the center was a very old, very great round table, encircled by a multitude of high-backed chairs. Strange, Robert thought, how could something so large fit in what appeared from the outside to be a small space?

Robert walked closer. Odd markings adorned the surface, almost like letters or words in an old forgotten language. Feeling rather tired from roaming around, Robert chose a chair from the circle and sat.

Much to Robert’s surprise, the interior morphed into a great hall, made entirely of stone with large wooden doors at both ends and one side. The tripod sconces still stood along the walls but now colorful banners also hung nearby, suspended from poles. Sunlight streamed through the windows of the room. Robert looked down at the table. No longer did it appear old. In fact, it looked like it had been made only a short while ago. Robert could read the markings. They were names! In front of him where he sat, was “Galahad”. To his right was “Gwayne”, to his left “Lancelot”, and the last one he could see - “Arthur”.

He rose, scanning the room with curious eyes. What was this place? He glanced down at himself. He hadn’t changed; only the room was different. He began to feel a stirring in his loins.

Robert gasped. He could feel his genitalia altering, growing longer, heavier, youthful, getting harder. The sensation was so erotic and started to spread throughout his body. Desire filled his very being. His legs lengthened, becoming more muscular and powerful, splitting the seams of his pants so they fell away in tatters. Next he could tell his torso was changing, becoming slightly shorter and leaner. His stomach pulled in, the abs getting tighter until they were a perfect cobble-work of muscle. His upper chest began to expand, pecs becoming two modest mounds of hard muscle, big enough to tear his once tight shirt to shreds.  He now stood exposed in the hall; drafty but he was not aware of the coolness, only the sensation of change. His arms blossomed into hardened shafts of steely muscle, capable of defending his body from any attack. His once tightly cropped hair began to grow out, curling around his neck and forehead. He could sense his face changing, becoming somewhat more angular, cheekbones moving upw
ards, his nose lengthening. His smooth face started to itch, a trim beard emerging on his youthful continence. Power coursed through his young veins.

The finishing touches came when clothing started to form on his body. First a soft undergarment encased his body from his neck to his knees, followed by a chainmail. A wide leather girdle encircled his mid-section, complete with an axe hanging from it. Gauntlets formed on his lower arms for protection, not to mention how cool they looked. Giant epaulets of leather manifested from his pecs, crossing his shoulders and back to end in a cape hanging to his mid-legs. Finally boots formed to shoe his feet and lower legs in leather.

Robert began to stir from his reverie. He started to walk towards the door on the side of the hall. As he did so he began to feel strangely light headed. New memories flooded his mind, memories of a different time and place, of a different life. Reaching the door, he found he could easily pull the heavy wood open to go outside. There he stood in the courtyard, his new-found glory on display for all to see and admire. No longer was he Robert of a far-away place. He was Galahad. He stood very erect and proud, at long last one of Arthur’s knights and defender of Camelot. Galahad of the Round Table – brave, adventurous, willing to sacrifice his very life for his king and kingdom - who was anything but average.

A man he knew to be Arthur entered the courtyard.

“Ah, Galahad. Here you are.” Arthur spoke, “Ready for the tournament?”

“Yes, my lord. I hope to win the joust and the honor of escorting the Queen to the feast that follows.” the tenor of his voice resonating throughout the courtyard.

“We shall see,” said Arthur, smiling. “We shall indeed see. Come. We must be off.”

The two men strode from the courtyard together. There would be battles to wage and adventures to be had on morrows yet to be. This day there would be camaraderie and merriment.

Back at the carnival, the tent, where a great table had once been, was now empty. Who would next venture into this world of desire?