Wanda John-Kehewin and Nicole Marie Burton’s graphic novel The Dream series is beginning to take shape. With the release of the second volume, Visions From The Fire, the next stage of Damon Quinn’s journey is becoming clear. What’s presented here is more than a traditional coming-of-age story. To appreciate where it is heading, though, it helps to begin with the first book, Visions of the Crow.
Here, Damon feels like a ne’er-do-well, struggling simply to survive as high school graduation draws near. It is easy to sympathize with him. At school, he is bullied because of his mixed heritage. As a Cree-Métis teen, he is left wrestling with questions of identity and belonging. He does not know who his father is, and he desperately wants answers. At home, his relationship with his mother is strained by her alcoholism, often leaving him to spend as little time there as possible.
True to the volume’s title, a black bird appears at strangely fitting moments in Damon’s daily life, leaving him to wonder why. Even more curious is the fact that he can see this bird while others cannot. Around the same time, he meets Justice. She reminds me of Molly from Disney’s Gargoyles episode “The Hound of Ulster.” Both characters stand near the threshold of the hero’s awakening, nudging each young man toward a deeper confrontation with the folklore, danger, and history surrounding him.
The supernatural element is handled differently in each work, but the narrative purpose feels similar. In Visions of the Crow, the bird acts as a messenger, leading Damon toward truths about himself and his past. In Gargoyles, Bronx serves more as a loyal steed, helping Rory move physically and emotionally toward his destiny. The endings differ, but the narrative shape feels strikingly similar. Both stories also stress how history lingers in the present. In this comic, Damon sees a world around him beginning to fracture. In the cartoon, Rory longs for something better beyond the life he knows. When the family cannot provide the answers, other forces begin pushing both young men toward them.
With the guidance of the black bird, Damon soon finds himself at a crossroads where spirits stir and elders visit him in dreams with words of advice. Through these encounters, he begins to reconnect with his past. That path is not simple, especially when Marcus, the school bully, stands in the way. By the second volume, Marcus becomes a far more complicated figure. Once he learns about his own connection to that heritage, his attitude begins to shift. Even when the hostility softens, enough tension remains to keep their relationship uneasy.
By the second book, both boys are on a reluctant path toward self-discovery. What follows finally delves into the inner life I wanted to see explored more fully. Damon’s vision quests become the focus, and what they reveal are unsettling truths. Burton brings those moments to vivid life. I found myself studying the illustrations for hidden symbolism, wondering what might be tucked into the details. Even on a second or third look, the magical realism feels restrained. That measured approach works well if this series is building toward a larger arc over several books.
One of the strongest aspects of Burton’s art is the colour palette, and how well it keeps the story grounded. Many pages are washed in olives, greys, and browns, while the dream sequences shift just enough to feel otherworldly. The contrast is subtle rather than extravagant. The visuals do not become grand or painterly for the sake of spectacle. Instead, they quietly distinguish the waking world from the spiritual one.
From a story standpoint, Visions From The Fire sets the stage for a larger hero’s journey. The familiar elements are all here: the mysterious guide, the desire to reconnect with the past, spiritual intervention, and the need for reconciliation. Without giving too much away, what is revealed suggests Damon may eventually become a bridge between worlds, not only within the communities that shape his identity, but also between Indigenous and settler perspectives. Colonialism is a broad and loaded term, but here the story focuses more specifically on harmful attitudes, inherited prejudice, and the struggle to repair those fractures. Marcus’ development matters because, without some measure of growth and accountability, he would remain irredeemable.
This is a thoughtful and personal journey, one that John-Kehewin explains in the afterword is closely shaped by her own experiences. Those closing reflections add important context to the work and help underline why this journey matters. Without them, this graphic novel series could easily be overlooked, which would be a shame given how much heart and purpose it carries. When a writer pours heart and soul into a story drawn from personal experience, that search for self-understanding can also become part of the reader’s own journey.
4 Stars out of 5