In vain he tried to back to sleep, trying to find the big yard and the ivory door. For three days he went to bed early, but his results were nil. There was, however, been a change unexpected and unhoped for by the same dreamer, he had begun to dream again. He did not, however, sailed on the great Sea of Dreams on which overlooked the majestic Oonanai Talarana not gazed over the vast turquoise dome of the Major Basilica of Selthon. In front of him ran cities, the high spiers of pink marble, stained silver and large gardens. The dreamer, though he had begun to dream, was sad and steadily, and went looking for the ivory door that opened into his own world, in his dreams. Unfortunately for him, nor the wise men of Zolon nor the makers of celestial sailing of Kathandra were able to help him in his search.
Soon the day life became for him superfluous, annoying and almost prevented, thus sought remedy in the opiate drugs and morphine, thus extending its still many hours of fruitless search. New landscapes stood in his dreams, crystal towers, snow-capped mountains on which the developed cities, towns underwater vaults of gold and red coral. Anyone who questioned, however, was unaware of the porches with fountains and no one had ever seen soar beyond the clouds the crystalline Dastama the capital Oonanai Talarana or had heard the pluck of the harp of the green Renodia. Soon, however, he exhausted his financial resources, so having to give up its prolonged stagnation. He was so confined to his house gray cement in total darkness, in an attempt to regain the sleep that seemed to have abandoned. The moons rose and waned but the dreamer remained motionless in his bed with his eyes wide open: no physical need could dissuade him from his purpose: that was his world, his reality and therefore felt the desperate need to return. In a night of full moon, whose rays filtered through the bulkhead windows set in concrete, the dreamer heard something unusual, something that shook him from his state of semi-consciousness: carried by a gentle wind from the east traveling notes a procession of violin and flute. The dreamer stood up and ran to the window, opening with strength, and seeing a vision remote and ethereal, in which he had given up hope. He felt condemned to an eternal night without dreams, but the sight of him revived, healing him in body and spirit. Took to the streets, enlightened and enlivened by the unknown festive procession: the musicians joined exquisite dancers, graceful as dryads, just as refined and beautiful. After they finally appeared a long line of knights with shining orichalcum armor, advancing on steeds white as the eternal snows of Mount Barantha. The dreamer watched the procession with his mouth open, and ecstatic at the same time confused when at one point a gentleman in the front row, laying on his right a caparisoned horse without his rider, broke away from the camp, catching up. The man bowed in front of the dreamer, inviting him to mount the horse to reach the blissful Land of Dreams, along with festive procession. The dreamer went up on the horse, recognizing, in the decorations and the trappings of his companions, the emblem of imperial Oonanai Talarana. When he looked back to him, he found himself wearing the dress more sumptuous and rich he had ever seen, worthy only of the emperor. The knight beside him dissolved any doubts: greeted him as a new and long-awaited Emperor Talarana. The procession marched, crossed the deserted streets of the gray city, and there finally reached the harbor at the end of a long dock, crossed the big courtyard with arcades with scented water fountains. He crossed the hall and stood again in front of the ivory door this time, in obedience to his silent order, swung open on its own, allowing the long procession to cross it. The dreamer was back, this time for good, in his beloved World of Dreams, in the middle of the halls of Oonanai Talarana and banquets, the towering golden spiers of Naren and his lute. Finally, he would have enjoyed this paradise, ruling forever and wisdom from the imperial throne of adamantium and lunoctio, the material they are made of the stars. He was finally back home.