A strange voice woke me. It was insistently -but softly- calling my name. The source was not in the room -at least, not yet. I recognized the speaker. It was Rachalie.
 "Hope I did not interrupt a dream," he asked, looking a little contrite. I told him that he had not so he continued, "You know, Jason, you could have told them everything."
 "I did not want to. I want things following -in most cases- along the proper story line."
 "You don't have to do that!"
 "Don't yell, sir! You'll wake someone," I responded just as vehemently, but not as loudly.
 "This," he waved his hand, "is your dream. Only you can hear me, for as I said we are in your dream," he paused, "I did not come here to argue. I came here to teach you something."
 "Oh! What are you going to be teaching me, sir?!"
 "How to do what I did to you the first time you 'saw' me, The Lightning Maneuver. You know. With the staff?" he brandished it for emphasis and I slipped out of my stupor.
 "Sorry for slipping off, sir. I was trying to remember the incident and how you did it, sir."
 He sighed long and gustily, "That's a title I hoped never to here myself called again," he sighed again.
 "Sir?" I asked, for I could not catch his meaning.
 "That's it," he pounded his staff into the floor (something about his staff seemed familiar to me but I couldn't think of what it was), "Why do you keep calling me 'sir'?"
 "Well, you've been immortal longer than I have, so you are a