Dream Dealer

Unfortuitously, my cherished reader, I invite you to join me once more as we embark on an adventure into the enchanted realm of The Barbærian, a place where the extraordinary and the commonplace intertwine like a mystical hair. Sleep deprivation, shapeshifting antics, and encounters with the supernatural are all part of this story. Therefore, take a seat on a chair that has been crafted from stardust and moonbeams, and we will get started.

Following the disappearance of the final echoes of Lily's footsteps, Abun's cloudy form abruptly jolted with the realization of something. "Oh, for the love of cumulus!" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of exasperation and dismay. "I forgot to take a picture of Lily's transformation! Again!"

Umu, her emerald-to-tomato hair slightly wilted, patted Abun's fluffy shoulder consolingly. "It's okay," she whispered, her voice as soft as moss on a riverbank. "We were all a bit... distracted."

Indeed, the emotional weight of Lily's story had affected them all. Abun's fairy heart had swelled to twice its usual size, causing his cloudy form to puff up like a marshmallow in a microwave. Umu had been on the verge of tears herself, only managing to hold them back through sheer force of will (and a bit of Færie magic).

Æon, observing his assistants with a mixture of concern and confusion, suddenly realized how utterly drained they looked. Abun's usually perky cloud form was sagging at the edges, while Umu's vibrant hair had dulled to the color of overcooked spinach.

"You two," he rumbled, his voice like gravel in a velvet bag, "need rest."

No sooner had the words left his scarred lips than strange things began to happen. Umu, her tiny form shimmering like a mirage, began to shift and change. But instead of reverting to her rocky origins, she transformed into... a tomato. A very cute tomato, mind you, with big, sleepy eyes and a leafy tuft of hair, but a tomato nonetheless.

Abun, not to be outdone in the bizarre transformation department, found his ears suddenly elongating and growing fluffier by the second. Before he realized it, he resembled a sentient cloud cosplaying as the Easter Bunny.

"Well," Abun said, his voice muffled by his newfound fluff, "this is new."

Æon, to his credit, didn't so much as raise an eyebrow. After all, when you've spent centuries battling dragons and ogres, a bunny-cloud and a sleepy tomato barely register on the weird-o-meter.

"Explain," he commanded, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

Umu, her voice slightly squeaky in her new fruity form, piped up. "We need Æther, Mr. Æon. It's a magical substance that replenishes our energy and helps us maintain our transformations."

Abun nodded vigorously, his new ears flopping comically. "Without it, we start to... well, you can see for yourself."

Æon frowned, his brow furrowing like storm clouds gathering on the horizon. "And where does one acquire this Æther?"

The bunny-cloud and the tomato exchanged glances. "Well," Abun began hesitantly, "that's the tricky part. It's only available in our realm, and it costs a fortune."

Æon's frown deepened. He may be cursed to cut hair for eternity, but he'd be damned if he'd let his assistants suffer. "There must be another way," he growled.

Umu's leafy tuft perked up slightly. "Well, there is one possibility," she squeaked. "The Dream Dealer."

Abun's cloudy form rippled with excitement. "Oh yes! The Dream Dealer! He's been dying to get his hair done. He'd probably trade a whole bottle of Æther for a trim!"

Æon's gaze became suspiciously narrowed. "And who is this Dream Dealer?"

Umu rolled onto her side, looking even more like a sleepy tomato than before. "He's a being who travels through dreams, trading in memories and wishes. He can cross between realms, but only through the dreams of others."

"Ah," said Æon, a note of understanding in his gravelly voice. Then, after a moment's pause, "Wait. How am I to meet this Dream Dealer if I cannot sleep?"

For indeed, dear reader, Æon's immortality came with the mixed blessing of never needing rest. A boon in his monster-hunting days, perhaps, but a curse when faced with the prospect of dream-based commerce.

Abun's fluffy ears drooped. "That's the other problem. One of us would need to fall into a deep enough sleep to invite the Dream Dealer into this world."

And so, as the moon rose high in the sky, casting its silvery light through the windows of The Barbærian, a most unusual scene unfolded. Æon, the once-feared warrior, now found himself tucking in a sleepy tomato and a fluffy cloud-bunny, trying his best to create a cozy atmosphere in the transformed salon.

Umu, her leafy tuft curled around her like a blanket, tried to hum a Færie lullaby, but her depleted magic caused the notes to come out as more of a squeaky whistle. Abun, nestled in a pile of spare towels, counted sheep-clouds in a valiant effort to drift off.

As the night wore on, Æon found himself pacing the salon, his golden scissors glinting in the moonlight. He couldn't help but marvel at the strange turn his immortal life had taken. Once, he had spent sleepless nights planning battle strategies and honing his combat skills. Now, here he was, a reluctant barber, desperately hoping his magical assistants would fall asleep so he could trade a haircut for a bottle of mystical energy drink.

The clock ticked on, each second feeling like an eternity to the sleepless barbarian. Would Abun or Umu manage to reach the depths of slumber needed to summon the Dream Dealer? And if they did, what sort of hairstyle would satisfy a being who traded in the currency of dreams?

As dawn's first light began to creep over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, Æon heard a soft snore. But was it the gentle snuffling of a sleeping tomato or the fluffy wheeze of a dozing cloud-bunny? And more importantly, would it be enough to bridge the gap between worlds and bring forth the elusive Dream Dealer?

Dear reader, I'm afraid we must leave our unlikely trio here, poised on the precipice of slumber and the promise of Æther. For in the world of The Barbærian, where scissors cut through dimensions and a good night's sleep can literally save the day, the line between dreams and reality is as thin as a perfectly executed split end.

Will Æon find a way to replenish his assistants' energy? What sort of cosmic coiffure might the Dream Dealer desire? And will Abun ever remember to take a "before and after" photo?