Dream

(Setting: This takes place approximately around the time the group was in Sairaag with Phillip)

**

   She walked into a clearing, wondering at the beauty of the place. Everywhere, the plant life was lushly green, and a cool mist kissed her cheeks as she moved. Is this a dream? She wondered as she continued, the branches in front of her parting automatically for her. Dark, oily vines hung off the thick tree branches, joining the moss in the effort to completely cover the forest in pure green.

    The path was obscured, but her feet knew the way. It was as if she was being guided by someone…all the more reason to believe that this was indeed, a dream. The mist and branches and greenery all parted for her, the wilderness almost lulling and comforting in its emerald embrace.

    The clearing was shrouded in white fog, but she could see that this was where she was being guided. A small clearing, no more than ten steps wide, ten steps long, slightly bowled in at the center, covered with thick moss and grass, and an abundance of…violets. Small, tiny, perfect, they dotted the outer edge of the clearing while springing up thickly in the center, where the ground dipped.

   Moving forward, she was almost lost in the peace of the scene until a gray shape moved and she jarred back into herself instantly. The movement was lithe, strong, predatorial. The gray shape solidified as it came before her…a large wolf.

    Golden eyes bore into her sapphire ones as the two regarded each other. The wolf made no sound, being the specter that it was, but she was sure it would have growled had it the voice. The look was not one of menace, of threat, yet. It was one of calm warning, shielding something else that she couldn’t quite read. The canine lowered its eyes, as if coming to a decision, and moved to the side, sitting down. The path is open before you, it seemed to say with the barest swing of its head. Will you chose to walk it, and discover what will be shown to you?

   Apprehensively, nervously, she took the steps forward, remembering suddenly that she had put violets…planted them, even, on her father’s marker. They had bloomed, just as they are blooming now, in the shade…

   She did not let that thought continue. Instead, she forced her feet and found herself at the edge of the indentation in the soft earth.

   A figure clad all in black, lying on his side in what reminded her of a natural coffin. Violets kissed his cheek, his hair, his gloved hands. Hair shades darker than the flowers that adorned his resting place cascaded over his shoulders, over the moss and the flowers, much longer than she remembered ever seeing it.

   Her fingers shook ever so slightly as she reached out for the pale face, feeling the coolness as they brushed against his cheek, his lips. But she could see the soft stirrings of the young sprigs of grass, see the slight rise and fall of his chest. Not dead. This dreamy clearing was no coffin and this was no corpse. The digits twitched. An accident, or a caress?

   Her fingers stopped shaking and gently took hold of his shoulder instead. She shook him, calling quietly. She wanted to know, why she was here, why he was here, and why was he in her dream, if indeed, this was a dream?

   The wolf raised its head, looking over. Black silk slipped against her fingers as he moved slightly, then turned his face away from her, deeper into the pillow of fragrant violets.

   What did it mean, what did it all mean? She wanted to know, to understand, for it hurt, a hidden place in her chest, to not know. Still, he refused to wake up for her.

   Wake up, she wanted to scream.

   The sky darkened as the wolf got up and paced agitatedly. Then it sat down on its haunches and howled. Blood red clouds streamed in, as if summoned, and the green forest was suddenly awashed in the shades of a red sunset.

   Frightened, she shook him again, and this time he seemed to have felt it. Stirring, he half turned, his eyes opening. She reached out for him, only to blink as she grasped at thin air.

   She knelt in the deserted clearing, the sky and the woods back to their normal, dark green. The wolf looked up, then got up and walked past her. She turned her head to follow its progress.

   Standing at the edge of the woods was the shadow. The wolf loped to it and nuzzled his hand. She could barely make out the humanoid figure in the winged shadow cast on the light of the forest. Wings: large, leathery, sharply clawed. Ripped in some places, yet not hindering the motion as it…no, he, moved. Horns, only slightly curved, protruded in gentle arcs from his head, and she could make out the whip-thin figure, the build and musculature of a born predator.

   Sunlight, piercing feebly through the mists, managed to stab recognition back in her eyes for a split second as it illuminated him.

   Everything was so familiar to her, in that almost elfin face. Everything from the straight nose to the full lips. Everything except the strange symbol on his left cheek and the blood red, pupiless eyes that stared back at her.

   Blackness flared in the form of his wings, bringing her out of her dream within a dream. The pale specter lowered his chin, just a tad, as if nodding his acknowledgement to her, before he turned, the beauty of the haunting profile made her breath catch in her throat. The light seemed to engulf him, burning so bright that it was black, and when her eyes finally screamed in agony and closed themselves, the flames consumed everything, the forest, the wolf, her. Leaving nothing behind except the pain, the brightness, the beauty of it all as she was destroyed and created and created again. Dimly, her nonexistent eyes caught the sight of him again. With a golden figure that burned brighter than the sun.

   Quivering, shaking, she trembled before Her, feeling the lightest of touches from the Goddess’s fingers. Creation, destruction, existence. She was all those, she was more. She was filled to the brim, she was overflowing.

   Then he was in front of her again, red eyes fading as they returned to the more familiar shade of dark violet. Clawed hands reached out for her, touching her as if she was made of spun glass, fragile and prone to destruction any minute. His lips moved in silence, as she desperately tried to see with eyes that had brightened and dulled in the flames that had burned. She could almost make it out…

   Inky blackness erupted from between them, flinging her back as it streamed out, much like the blood from a fresh wound. It pushed her back until she was drowning in it, opening her mouth to scream but choking as it filled her mouth like dirty water. Until she couldn’t do anything but think that she was going to die.

   The darkness and silence was broken by a strangled gasp and the sound of someone fighting with the tangled sheets. One of the shadows untangled itself from the rest, the slender shape graceful despite the recent weight of sleep and nightmare. A window was pushed open with gentle force and the night wind took her up on the invitation and let itself in. It stirred her hair comfortingly and caressed her cheeks as the figure leaned her head against the windowsill, feeling the chill run through her as the wind cooled the sweat drying on her body.

   Just a dream? Just a nightmare? She raised her head and contemplated the heavens. No, it was more than that, she knew. Maybe it was her brain’s interpretation of her insecurities, of her hidden feelings, of her uncertainty, and of her suspicions. But it definitely was not just a nightmare.

5/26/00