Dreams

The frozen ground beneath holds him captive. Fear taking root and holding him steadfast.

The naked maple, dark and lonely, gave only bleakness to the night. Not even leaves to rustle in the bitter wind.

Echoes of clashing steel carried and warring cries blended like a waterfall. The ground grows dark red in the valley below, life’s blood soaking into the Earth.

The losses of brothers and sisters gripped his heart. He took a measured breath to still his trembling hands.

Heart pounding in his armor, he clenched his jaw and gripped his blade. ‘I can do this,’ resonates through his mind, not his heart.

Armor-clad thousands, dancing and teasing blades, orchestrated the bloody battle. The winter chill brought steam from hot blood seeped into frozen ground.

Heaviness pulled at his aching heart. ‘How can I battle and kill my own family? How can I go into this?’ His mind circled.

His choices are black or white, no gray. Serve in war or permanent exile. That seething pain resonates within as anger begins to push aside the fear.

His determination grew and bolstered his resolve. Faces below blurred into vague anonymity to steal his grief and numb his heart.

Just as the wind died down, his target was revealed. An imposing and towering figure. Death on its face, pale as the moon on the frozen lake.

The moment revealed, his muscles engaged, building the potential to propel him forward, knees bent, jaw set, mind focused, emotions subsided. Tremendous smoke stained wings extended to aid in speed.

One last deep breath as his feet dug into the earth, leaning forward… Suddenly his face meets the ground, an unmovable weight on his back.

No sound as time slowed to a crawl. A white, hot, and blinding pain sears him.

The blade entered his wings, his spine, his heart, and Earth beneath him.

His life’s blood melted him into the earth. His left wing mostly severed. “One wing dipped in blood,” they say. How true they don’t know.

Mind fading. Doomed. To exist now as half human, live half-lives, To know the peace of heaven, but to never feel it again. Exile.

To serve on earth only half-free. Tears flow as he breathes his last, pinned hilt deep to the cold and lonely Earth.

Eyes open, face down, paralyzed in agony, it seemed like the blade held her too. An invisible force, unwavering. Tears flowing into the soft bedding. “I didn’t want to remember.”