fairy tale 5: dreamwalker

{This is a bit long – most of my stories seem to be – over 400 words!}

It was her time. To dream. Go to the outlands. Fast for a week. Build a fire to last a night and a day. Pour the potion in the cup. Ritual words and motions. Drink. Then . . . It was forbidden to speak of your dream.

Hollow-eyed, broken into unmendable pieces. Insanity. Amnesiacs. Newborns, awe and wonderment of children in their faces. Intuitives. Healers. Holders of wisdom. Story tellers.

She banked the fire. Turned her attentions to the oddly shaped colour-changing flagon. Uncorked, her nostrils filled with scent of life and death. Breathing deep to quell her nervousness, she put the ritual cup to her lips. The liquid now smelled of earth, flowers, rainstorms, frost, wind and ice.

She drank the potion tasting sickly sweet, incredibly acidity, and bitter. She waited, thinking “Now what?” Her sleeping mat rolled out; she assumed dream meant sleep.

Something moved in the shadows outside of the fire glow, the form detached from them, but remained framed by the dark. All she could see was a tall figure. Eyes shifting colours. 

“Hello.” No ancient greeting. No solemn introduction. A pleasant male voice with bird song and rustling leaves.

“Hello,” she replied.

He came closer into the fire glow. Tall, thin, dressed in well-worn clothes of an unfamiliar style. A bag slung over his shoulder. An intricately carved cane in his hand.

“You were born during an equinox eclipse.” She nodded. “That makes you a special one. So, I walked with your since you took your first steps. No doubt you have felt my presence, or see me move out of the corner of your eye. I thought it time we met. Now, you will see me by your side, though no one else will.”

She had a thousand questions, but couldn’t voice any. Even without answers, she smiled. Comfortable. At ease. Not alone.

When she found her voice, they talked long into the next day. Then, they readied  for the trek back to her, no, their home.

She did come back changed. She laughed at funniness and jokes that no-one else heard. She would put her arms up above her head, link her fingers and dance, singing softly to herself. She could be seen, strolling in the hills, gesturing to herself.

She would be deemed “mad” had it not been for the magical aura around her, a brilliant easy smile. She made the child giggle as she played games. She took worries off people’s minds. She brightened dark corners.

But, no one was surprised when she packed her things. Headed for the outlands. Having what seemed to be a pleasant chat with herself.


3 thoughts on “fairy tale 5: dreamwalker

  1. mindlovemisery April 27, 2014 / 12:16 am

    Fabulous I certainly didn’t notice the length as it was such a pleasure to read


    • phylor April 27, 2014 / 9:19 am

      Thanks — I have a problem with getting carried away by the story generated by the prompt. I might go back to poetry as I don’t tend to write sagas, lol.


I love dialogue. Do you?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s