Just a Dream

Just a passing dream, one of many.

Just a Dream

I'm at the back of a huge cavern. It's well lit, as the opening itself is also extensive, and bright daylight pours into the cavern illuminating the huge bonfire in the middle of the small early medieval hut style village that occupies the center of this enormous cavern. I cannot stress enough the immensity of the cavern if you are to imagine it as I dreamt it, and not a dark or dank place, but somehow an almost pleasant. Dry with a sand covered floor over a flat slate like stone bed that seems to form the foundation. At the back of the cavern, I am at a gate looking into the village at the fire. Just in front of me Grimswire and a fellow viking looking man are quarreling over whether to open the stick gate in the midst of the stick fence surrounding the village circle or not. The villagers of the hut village are all out of their huts and they begin to gather around the bonfire. They amble about rather aimlessly in front of the fire as they surround it, some with their arms slightly outstretched before them as if searching for a way or seeking its warmth, others walk more normally, but all have rather vacant apathetic looks or even stares. Most striking is actually their dress, which is all very typical of what seems to be the early medieval period, but it is difficult to be sure in the midst of the dream. They all have breeks and tunics for the boys and men, long dresses and aprons, and bonnets for the women and girls. Some wear clogs and some are booted. The colors are drab and unassuming: homespun grey, or a drawl grey green. Slate blue, or blunted blacks and browns are the other types of colors present. No scarlet. No crimson. The clothes are well kept for all that and even seem impressive in their seeming historical accuracy. Grimswire and his comrade. Perhaps they're vikings. Or .. perhaps they're bandits. Perhaps they're some kind of pirate. There's water nearby after all. I can hear a sea from outside the wide gaping maw of the cavern, but sight of the sea is fully blocked by a sheet of searing daylight's glare, which keeps me from literally seeing it, but I know it's there. Grimswire is the most memorable. He's short and has reddish brown hair in braids down his shoulders and a slightly redder beard. He spits and curses in a muttered whisper. He's dressed in a leather cuirass of some kind, worn and covered over by a very ragged and rusted coat of mail made of fat rings of degrading steel, some of which are clearly about to break. The villagers see us outside their stick fence, but don't seem to care. They mill about the fire and around the monstrous bear. Yes .. there's also a great brown bear in their midst, which is obviously agitated by the people shuffling about her. She gets up on her hind quarters to her full height and grunts, growls and roars, but doesn't dare strike at anyone to hit them. The people ignore her. They occasionally look at me, but when I make any eye contact they look away. They seem angry with me but say nothing. Grimswire spits at his feet and mutters, "I've always wanted to see what would happen with something like this." "Will they be able to shamble past her and enter into the light?"

As if on cue, the villagers, some several dozen now in total, begin to shuffle past the bear toward the cavern's entrance. They pass by her with barely any evident care as she roars and swipes at air just before them or after they have passed her. It isn't clear if she is really trying to get at them as she flails. It's quite a spectacle, and then as the last of the villagers passes into the dazzling daylight away from the village and the fire, Grimswire opens the stick gate. He picks up a long and elaborately made crossbow that has apparently been leaning against the stick fence. It is a thing of absolute masterful beauty, and the wooden stock gleams with polish as if it were almost even made of some kind of metal, like aluminum or chrome, but this surely cannot be. He stalks in a hunter's crouch with the crossbow, which dwarfs him with its size, through the open stick gateway and off to the left, as if he means to sneak up for a shot upon the bear. His comrade follows with a small felt bag of bolts and a drawn short sword, also crouching, his moustaches in thin braids almost touching the ground. It is time. I decided to follow the villagers. I want out .. and into the light. My dream self cares not for Grimswire or his companion or even the bear. I assume the bear will be shot with the great crossbow and that will be that. I do not even intend to witness it. I sneak through the stick gate and bear off to the right. I pick a route in the shadow of the cavern's edges away from the bear and the bonfire, just outside the circle of huts inside the stick fence. The last of the villagers is just ahead of me, their movement is slow, and without any care about the cavern, the bear, Grimswire or, to a certain degree, even me. But two villagers, a man, and a woman, they both turn their heads as they walk out into the light to look at me. Their faces register mild contempt. The woman than begins to pray or chant a chant. It is directed at me.

She prays to someone or something that ".. if you are righteous, may only what is good overcome you, but .. if you are evil, then may evil befall you. May we see the strike of your doom and may you not enter into the light. May any other have no converse with you nor should you be allowed ever to prosper." They stop and wait briefly, as if to see if the chant-prayer has any effect. It doesn't. They fail. They somewhat angrily turn and continue with the rest of the villagers. I follow.

I pass them and climb the lawn in the daylight to the line of cliff tops that overlook the shingle to a narrow but very long beach made of stones and pebbles instead of sand, that stretches forth from either side of me. There's a trough of some kind and the echoes of the curse prayer fall away as I climb through it and stand upon the pebble beach. I stopped to turn around to see the eerie villager couple, but they are not there. Instead, out of the corner of my eye a figure dashes past me and flings itself into the water as it laps upon the shore of the pebble beach. I spin around just in time to see the shape of a young woman, in full dress and over it a full apron and bonnet covering her dark hair, both are greyish white over her grey green dress and clogs. She dashes into the water and begins to wade frantically through the water away from me and the shore. She wades further and further as fast as she can and suddenly sprawls into a sort of awkward splashing "swim" to make her way out to the seeming depths beyond. The dazzling light, and blue sky full of happy seeming puffy white clouds makes this spectacular spectacle even more astonishing.

Everything you see outside the cavern is beautiful, as if just made, even her, even though at the same time I think this, a spasm of panic grips my heart. I suddenly feel compelled to follow the young woman, just in case. I want to see what she does. I suppose now I am fully afraid instead of just mystified by the surrounding beauty in the dazzling light of what feels like the first day. What is she trying to do? Is she trying to drown herself, is she just trying to swim to catch up with the other villagers? Is she real? Where is everyone else? Are the villagers all wading or swimming up ahead? I wade and wade and then also awkwardly flop bodily into the water. It is surprisingly warm and very clear. The sand on the bottom, any small fish, and smooth stones on the bottom are clearly visible despite the reflected vision of the clouds and blue sky. Everything is bathed in the brightest light of day, almost like a scene in a tropical paradise vacation photo. The woman is in a full but still awkward swim ahead, and she manages, in spite of her costume, to swim faster and faster, as I struggle to keep up. I notice as we go, that the water doesn't really get any deeper. The warmth grows and begins to feel like the warmth of hot bathwater or even almost like a hot tub. I stop swimming because the warmth both shocks and impresses me. I notice that now I'm in the midst of some of the villagers also bobbing about in the water. I turn toward where the racing girl should now be .. but instead of her there is only a great shore wall of stone. The edge of the sea, if sea it was, is where we all now are, and the stone cliff wall of this shore stretches to either side as far as one can see. I float and bob a little and rest in the warm water in the dazzling daylight and ignore the villagers as they now ignore me. I don't need them anyway, and there's nothing really around to be afraid of. The young woman or girl, whoever she was, is gone. The others are busy and playing in the water around me, not too near, but not too far. The warmth of the water feels amazing and the clarity of it beyond compare. I wake up.