dream

Loosely inspired by this song.

The moon is high in the sky and an empty bottle of red wine sits not an arm's length from me. Amathlan has just left. I wish he could stay till the sun rises, but I know he may not. Maybe I shall try to find some sleep, if there is any to be had.

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I sit in front of the hearth and take a sip of the bottle of dark, red wine I had purchased in Bree. This wine is not quite as deep and flavorful as the elven wine I am more used to, but has a simple and nice taste just the same.

It rained today, or should I say poured. Perhaps the storm in the morning set the tone for my mood today. I have done nothing of importance and just sat in front of this fire all day. I am annoyed, but I know not why.

The fire is still barely crackling and alight but the sound seems to be making me drift off....

This is the third and final entry of a series. Read part one here and part two here. 

Do you fear leaving? Or do you fear being left?

Mornenion, as he began to enter consciousness, felt a sharp pain in his head. He shot up, looking about panicked for a moment. He thought the dream was repeating itself. The dream. Again, the image of how the dream started flashed through Mornenion's mind.

Mornenion, as he remembered the rest of the vivid dream, began to look angrier and angrier.

It had been eventful day. Likely the most eventful day since the weeks following her arrival in Bree. What started as a relaxing and joyous evening with her new-found friends Rowena and Lowenna at the Prancing Pony soon turned into a moment of earth shattering proportions. A strange woman calling herself “Susan” said she had a friend with a present for Daisy, urging her to meet him at his camp outside Bree to receive it. It took considerable convincing, and a sketch showing the likeness of a younger-looking Daisy, but the women agreed to meet him the next morning.

With all these nightmares and the past chase on the trek to my house, with my training started to really teach me how to deal with threats, I believe its time to deal with these nightmares. I did my chores, anxious to get to rest, hoping that the nightmare will happen again. Dinner was good, as always it is. I went to sleep quickly, and soon descended into the same, dark, dimly lit, forest that I was in before in the other nightmares. This time I was with a lantern by my hip, shield on my left hand, and spear in my right. I was ready to face my fear, or at least attempt to.

Ford could not see.

He was standing on a plane of infinite dark, a horribly suffocating sort of blackness that made him fear moving. Could he even walk without falling? He took a step forward, twitching with hesitation. No fall. He breathed a sigh of relief.

How did he even get here? He scratched his head, trying to remember the last moments he spent before he came into this strange, empty void. His brain felt oddly absent of any ability to recall what he was doing only moments before. Ford continued to wade through the darkness, fear growing in him.