Let me tell you a story of how I became a detective in a magical world.

Ever since I was a young lad, my favourite past-time was sleeping. Make no mistake, it is not because I am particularly lazy, or anything like that. There is one little thing I like about sleeping - dreams. It doesn't matter whether it is a nice dream I am having, or a nightmare, in a strange way I enjoy most of them - the variety is key.

I know what most people would think about my "hobby" - everyone likes dreams, but living in the real world is more fulfilling and a child has to grow up sometime to become an adult, who contributes to their country, economy and, hopefully, doesn't become a waste of space. When you grow up it is expected of you to find a good job, then get a spouse, have children and, in the end, look back to your life and hope that you lived it well, without many, if any, regrets.

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against people, who aim for these things, but I always felt repulsed by the thought of this typically planned out life. When I was a child and heard my grandma dreaming of witnessing my marriage, hoping that I will study well and get a good job, I felt that this life is too ordinary and resolved myself to be different.

I'm sorry, grandma, I don't feel that such life is for me.

However, who knows whether this childhood dream of mine is very realistic. Until I came to live in the city of Boch, I certainly thought that this weird goal of mine was destined to be abandoned. Thus, let's go back to explaining, why my dreams played a key part in changing my life forever.

Since I was a child I enjoyed dreaming, because I could experience unbelievable, magical and completely impossible things. Things, that I could only see in movies or on TV, read about in books and see in pictures. And while dreaming everything always felt very real to me. When I was young I couldn't understand the difference between dreams and reality. I constantly questioned my parents, who assured me, that I was just sleeping. I believed that I was going through different worlds and asked my mom and dad to check on me at night to see whether I was really in bed and not in some other universe.

Yes, the dreams were always that real, to the point I couldn't tell which life I was actually living. However, gradually, as I grew up, I understood the differences and I could tell, that I was just like other people - only with more active imagination. Gradually, as my childish belief in the magic I experienced at night disappeared, dreams also became more blurry. Sometimes I even forgot them once I woke up. That's why, when I wake up, I try to not open my eyes and remember my nighttime adventures.

The precious moment of waking up but not being completely awake is when you have to concentrate on your dream because otherwise, it is easy to forget it. It's best when you wake up naturally, because if someone shakes you or an alarm clock sounds, the dream escapes, and it's hard to catch it again.

Day-dreaming is another past-time that I especially like. Listening to music while laying on my bed when the sun shines brightly (but not too much) upon me... I feel peaceful while creating a new world in my head, filling it with familiar and unfamiliar characters, who live their lives according to my wishes. The world can be based on a book I read or a movie I watched, or it can be completely new, arising from an abrupt thought or idea.

Over the years I dreamed of many things and created many worlds, some I remember, but most have already left me. However, as I was reaching 30 years of age and wondering whether there is any actual meaning to my existence in this world, I began dreaming of visiting another, magical, world.

Due to my boring office job and nonexistent personal life, the world that I dreamed about seemed very pleasant to me, very real, like those childhood dreams of mine, even though it didn't seem particularly interesting at the time. At first, it seemed not to be much different from the reality that I always lived in, except that in the dream I didn't have to work, I could just sit in a nice restaurant whilst enjoying watching people passing me by outside and drinking tea or coffee, eating snacks.

People in my dream dressed a bit differently from an average modern man or woman. Both genders wore long and short tunics and robes in different styles. They rarely seemed to carry around bags, their hair could be rarely seen as most people covered their heads with turbans and colourful scarves. Though many women let their hair be shown - I wholeheartedly approved of this because I liked women with long hair.

I couldn't visit this dream every night, because even I didn't know how to control what I dreamed about. After work I usually went to rest early hoping to have a relaxing time in this strangely realistic mind creation.

Gradually I started to recognise people coming and going from the restaurant I frequented in this dream, sometimes I had pleasant chats with other visitors, other times we just nodded at each other when they passed me by.

I took a particular liking to conversing with a 40-50-year-old man whose name, as I later learned, was Lazar Harst. He also often frequented this restaurant. We talked about everything - my job, our views on life, interesting books we read, people we met or stories we heard. As I knew that this is a dream, I wasn't reserved. Until one night, when I and Lazar stopped chatting for a moment and were enjoying quiet time while looking through the window.

Suddenly, he turned to me and with raised eyebrows calmly said:

'James, but you are not from this world, are you?'

I was so shocked, that I chocked on the tea I was sipping and woke up.

The next time I dreamed of Lazar, I was ready to shower him with thousands of questions. To me, dreams were similar to reality, however, I was a sane man, and realized that they couldn't be treated as seriously as my real life. However, the fact that a person I constantly dreamed about somehow knew that to me this was a dream, while to them it was the reality, intrigued me. Wasn't it a strange paradox? How do people, who are created by my sleeping brain, see me, if they realize that I am dreaming?

It was something new, completely novel and unexpected.

As soon as I opened my eyes in my usual seat at the restaurant, I saw Lazar sitting across me calmly nibbling on a biscuit and warmly smiling with twinkling blue eyes. He didn't seem surprised to see me appear before him. Maybe I was already there all along and while I wasn't dreaming, this world froze, as if someone hit the "pause" button?

'Shocked?' He asked me.

I nodded.

'How did you know?' I asked curiously.

Lazar slowly took a sip out of the cup of tea and gradually started talking.

'To people here, you appear completely normal, James. If it wasn't for me talking with you a lot, it would be hard to notice, however... Let's just say that you are a bit transparent.'

I almost chocked on my tea again when I heard the last word and hurriedly checked out my hands. Honestly, I thought they looked okay. Maybe a bit pale.

'Oh, you don't have to look so worried!' Lazar chuckled and continued, 'it just looks this way in a certain light. You also never come through the front door or leave that way. It seems as though you are always there, and when you are not, people just forget about your existence. Magic, especially dream magic, is a strange thing. It makes people ignore the most obvious things. And dream magic that you are using to travel the worlds is especially strong, it seems to like you very much.'

'But sir, wouldn't other people also gradually notice?' I couldn't help but ask anxiously. If one person noticed, then in my experience, it was only a matter of time before everyone around also knew that I was some kind of alien. 

Lazar chuckled again.

'It's not that obvious, I only noticed after interacting with you for a long time. It also helps that a lot of things you talk about are unfamiliar... James, I consider myself a well-read man. Living for a few hundred years with a job where I handle a lot of secrets will result in a situation, where I am not easily shocked or surprised. However, this time I was surprised. The last time I was so surprised was around 52 years ago, when the King offered me to become the Supreme Commander of the Bach city's Magical Elite Army. Anyway, it's alright if I never heard of one book you told me about, or even another; never heard of these felitones or a noobie, but trying to find them and realizing that they don't exist is a completely different matter. Thus, I concluded after some more careful observation, that you, James, are an alien.' Lazar finished in a rather satisfied manner. Then he calmly continued sipping his tea as he waited for me to stomach all these news.

I ignored the shocking age of the man sitting across that was reported to me as if nothing was wrong with the numbers, and distractedly corrected the older man with murmurs of 'telephones, not felitones' and 'a movie, not noobie' during the explanation.

Actually, I think I was in shock. But when my brain started functioning again, I realized that I never doubted what this man sitting across from me was saying. I regarded him as though he was a real, living person and not a friend and advisor I somehow dreamed up. For some reason, I felt that doubting him would be the stupidest thing to do.

So I asked:

'What now?'

Lazar's smile gradually widened, to the point I thought his face would split up. Then he said, 'I knew that you were a quick one, James.'

I felt strangely proud of his compliments. When I was a child my family encouraged me and complimented me a lot, but as I grew up and became a self-sufficient man, gradually the compliments stopped. Is there anything to be proud about in an ordinary man with an ordinary job and no personal life?

There was no one to encourage me or feel proud of me as everyone continued to live their own lives. Lazar's words satisfied me, even though they were very simple. I felt that I was being looked at like a stupid child, who didn't raise many expectations but still managed to pleasantly surprise others with occasional intelligent remarks.

'Actually,' the older man continued, 'after I realized that you were not of this world, I thought that you have a lot of potential... People like you, James, are really rare in this world. Thus, I want to offer you a job. Come to this world and work for me as a part of the Zulair country's Boch city's Magical Elite Army's Detective. A man of your talents is just what we need!'

Needless to say, I agreed, and that was the start of my new life in the magical city of Boch.