Written By Rey
Jan. 20, 2018, 12:37 p.m.(1/3/1008 AR)
Last night, my dream changed.
I feel as though I must have had a fever. The dream was wild that way. Unmoored. Dreams are never real, of course, but some dreams are more real than others. And some dreams, like this one, are more real than they should be.
It started like the other ones. I went into the hall deep in the earth, with all of the weight of the earth and the sea and the sky pressing down on the air that I breathed, making it thick as syrup, and the man was there, chained to his throne. He offered me a cup as I approached, the cup of all of his sorrow, and I took it, cradling it in both of my hands, feeling the cold marble and the weight of it contents. But it wasn't seawater inside this time. It was a heart. His heart.
I looked up, and I saw that he was crying.
In that moment, I was two people, the girl who took the cup, and the girl who set it aside. I looked at him through two pairs of eyes, and I saw him twice, chained, withering away, dried out from the inside by the tears he cried and rising, beautiful and terrible, capable of so much, with all the world spread out in the palms of his hands. In that moment, seeing him as he was, seeing him as he could be, knowing that I was also seeing who I could be, certainty filled me, and what had seemed like a choice wasn't anymore. It was more like knowing about something that had already happened, set in time, and unalterable. I saw that I had taken -- would take -- took -- the third way.
I gave the chained man my heart in that cup of sorrow.
I feel as though I must have had a fever. The dream was wild that way. Unmoored. Dreams are never real, of course, but some dreams are more real than others. And some dreams, like this one, are more real than they should be.
It started like the other ones. I went into the hall deep in the earth, with all of the weight of the earth and the sea and the sky pressing down on the air that I breathed, making it thick as syrup, and the man was there, chained to his throne. He offered me a cup as I approached, the cup of all of his sorrow, and I took it, cradling it in both of my hands, feeling the cold marble and the weight of it contents. But it wasn't seawater inside this time. It was a heart. His heart.
I looked up, and I saw that he was crying.
In that moment, I was two people, the girl who took the cup, and the girl who set it aside. I looked at him through two pairs of eyes, and I saw him twice, chained, withering away, dried out from the inside by the tears he cried and rising, beautiful and terrible, capable of so much, with all the world spread out in the palms of his hands. In that moment, seeing him as he was, seeing him as he could be, knowing that I was also seeing who I could be, certainty filled me, and what had seemed like a choice wasn't anymore. It was more like knowing about something that had already happened, set in time, and unalterable. I saw that I had taken -- would take -- took -- the third way.
I gave the chained man my heart in that cup of sorrow.
Written By Rey
Jan. 6, 2018, 11:09 p.m.(12/2/1007 AR)
I've stopped recording my dreams. I know that I shouldn't. Everything gets all fuzzy around the edges when I can't sort out whether something happened on the far side of sleep. But they're so often the same lately. There's a man holding a scepter and chained to a throne. He offers me a cup of sorrows, and when I drink, it's seawater.
I can barely remember what it's like to dream about anything else.
I can barely remember what it's like to dream about anything else.
Written By Rey
Oct. 30, 2017, 2:26 p.m.(6/28/1007 AR)
I stood alone against a darkness rising. My light was so very small, but I was determined that it would burn as the tide of darkness rushed towards me and swallowed me whole. Silence, and then sound. I couldn't see, but I could hear. I heard the screaming, the wails, the madness of man's inhumanity to man. All of the despair of the world, all of the agony and hopelessness, stabbed and slashed at me with blades of ice, and I bled. I sobbed. I cried tears of blood. But I held onto my light, even as it started to fade away. Even as I started to fade away.
Another light came towards me, a light that burned bright, the only thing visible in the rushing darkness. It illuminated a man's face, lined, and strong, and smiling. I felt warmth when he wrapped his arm around me and drew me close. I thought I would never feel warm again. You've done enough, he told me as he drew me away. It's time to come home. He parted the world like it was a silk curtain and took me away from the pain and the dark, away with him to his kingdom beneath the waves.
Under the water, I couldn't breathe. As the way behind me closed, I realized suddenly that I was drowning. I looked for the king, but he was gone; I was alone, deep beneath the ocean, and I saw the wreck of a ship nearby.
Home. This is home. This is where I belong. This is where I should have ended up, all those years ago, and now I'm here. Here with my father, who has waited for me all this time in the wreck of a ship, deep beneath the waves. My lungs burn. I need to breathe...
I woke up gasping for air, half strangled by my pillow.
Why am I having so many nightmares?
Another light came towards me, a light that burned bright, the only thing visible in the rushing darkness. It illuminated a man's face, lined, and strong, and smiling. I felt warmth when he wrapped his arm around me and drew me close. I thought I would never feel warm again. You've done enough, he told me as he drew me away. It's time to come home. He parted the world like it was a silk curtain and took me away from the pain and the dark, away with him to his kingdom beneath the waves.
Under the water, I couldn't breathe. As the way behind me closed, I realized suddenly that I was drowning. I looked for the king, but he was gone; I was alone, deep beneath the ocean, and I saw the wreck of a ship nearby.
Home. This is home. This is where I belong. This is where I should have ended up, all those years ago, and now I'm here. Here with my father, who has waited for me all this time in the wreck of a ship, deep beneath the waves. My lungs burn. I need to breathe...
I woke up gasping for air, half strangled by my pillow.
Why am I having so many nightmares?
Written By Rey
Oct. 29, 2017, 1:48 p.m.(6/26/1007 AR)
I was in a salon, surrounded by the shadows of people, their faces blurred. They whispered, a sound like falling leaves that swept around me as they looked with accusing eyes and pointed with accusing fingers. I was all alone, and shadows of scorn closed in...
I stretched my wings and flew. I flew up and up, up into the sky and among the stars, with the moonlight shining silver on my face. The moonlight surrounded me. It embraced me. Flying among the stars in the cold night air, I was free. I was in love. A man outlined in starlight reached out for me...
But the shadows that judged me had followed me, even into the sky they followed. I didn't see them until they ripped my wings away with accusing talons. Who was I to fly this way? Who was I to take his hand? The moon went dark. The moon turned to blood, a terrible staring face with hollow eyes and a gaping mouth that screamed silently through the night as I was pierced through the heart, run through and bleeding and falling to earth.
Who was I to take his hand?
I stretched my wings and flew. I flew up and up, up into the sky and among the stars, with the moonlight shining silver on my face. The moonlight surrounded me. It embraced me. Flying among the stars in the cold night air, I was free. I was in love. A man outlined in starlight reached out for me...
But the shadows that judged me had followed me, even into the sky they followed. I didn't see them until they ripped my wings away with accusing talons. Who was I to fly this way? Who was I to take his hand? The moon went dark. The moon turned to blood, a terrible staring face with hollow eyes and a gaping mouth that screamed silently through the night as I was pierced through the heart, run through and bleeding and falling to earth.
Who was I to take his hand?
Written By Rey
Oct. 24, 2017, 3:35 p.m.(6/16/1007 AR)
I dreamed that I had a sword. It was a gift, I think, and a well intentioned one, but I shouldn't have accepted it. Swords are for killing. The world spun around me, and I had a sword in my hands, and swords are for killing. The world spun around me, and eventually, the spinning was going to stop, and I was going to be holding a sword...
The house on a hill heaved and groaned. It cracked under my feet and the roof split above my head. They were breaking it, breaking it just like they'd done before, and I felt myself being dragged into another place. Music echoed, off key and far away. It was a woman singing. It was my mother. The storm beat about us, the waves broke over our heads. I couldn't breathe, but still she sang to me. She sang to me through her pain, and through mine. She sang softer and softer, and I could feel the life slipping away from her as the song died away forever.
She's dead. My light is gone.
I woke up crying.
I never want to have a dream like that again.
The house on a hill heaved and groaned. It cracked under my feet and the roof split above my head. They were breaking it, breaking it just like they'd done before, and I felt myself being dragged into another place. Music echoed, off key and far away. It was a woman singing. It was my mother. The storm beat about us, the waves broke over our heads. I couldn't breathe, but still she sang to me. She sang to me through her pain, and through mine. She sang softer and softer, and I could feel the life slipping away from her as the song died away forever.
She's dead. My light is gone.
I woke up crying.
I never want to have a dream like that again.
Written By Rey
Oct. 19, 2017, 2:39 p.m.(6/6/1007 AR)
It's been so hard to keep awake and dreams on the right sides of sleep, lately. Things are better now. The wallpaper isn't so loud anymore. But was I dreaming when I looked in the mirror and saw my reflection blink? I must have been dreaming when she drew me through the mirror, into her mirror world. She took me to a ship, and the Poet waited for us there. He was lost inside himself, and I'd come to heal him, but I had to find him, first, and that would be a journey.
Someone else waited for me in the mirror world, a man who I know I must have seen somewhere before. Or maybe I'm remembering something that hasn't happened yet? I don't know what he wanted. He just waited there and devoured me with his eyes.
Someone else waited for me in the mirror world, a man who I know I must have seen somewhere before. Or maybe I'm remembering something that hasn't happened yet? I don't know what he wanted. He just waited there and devoured me with his eyes.
Written By Rey
Oct. 16, 2017, 3:42 p.m.(5/28/1007 AR)
I'm only recently well enough to write this. I've been ill. They say that I had a fever and almost died, but I know that isn't true, because every night, I heard the stars singing to me through my bedroom window. They wouldn't have been singing so cheerfully if it was my time.
I don't remember much of what happened. They say I hit my head. I remember cold, and dark. I remember screams, and only some of them are mine as I scream into the night. I know which ones are mine because the others, the ones in the dark, those are cut short. The other screams are just echoes.
I felt the tower crack before it fell, and it felt like something was breaking inside of me, breaking like the breaking of a mirror, shattering me into a million pieces. There was a light in the distance, deep in the dark. Someone had been waiting for a very long time. Gleaming opulent riches, a gift beyond value, and someone took me into his arms, but it wasn't Count Tibault. Someone else was there. A king in my heart. A child with a sword. And the thunder... the waves. My mother looks down on me as the sea pulls me under, and she's singing, but then I realize that she's really just the m
I don't remember much of what happened. They say I hit my head. I remember cold, and dark. I remember screams, and only some of them are mine as I scream into the night. I know which ones are mine because the others, the ones in the dark, those are cut short. The other screams are just echoes.
I felt the tower crack before it fell, and it felt like something was breaking inside of me, breaking like the breaking of a mirror, shattering me into a million pieces. There was a light in the distance, deep in the dark. Someone had been waiting for a very long time. Gleaming opulent riches, a gift beyond value, and someone took me into his arms, but it wasn't Count Tibault. Someone else was there. A king in my heart. A child with a sword. And the thunder... the waves. My mother looks down on me as the sea pulls me under, and she's singing, but then I realize that she's really just the m
Written By Rey
Oct. 2, 2017, 11:37 p.m.(4/28/1007 AR)
I met a kind old man as big as a bear, and with a roar like one, too. He smiled at me, but I saw the pain of loss in his eyes that a smile couldn't hide, and so I took his hands in mine.
With a look, the old man took me across the world. I saw great abandoned castles, black and brooding on the horizon, and a soldier's camp deep in the snow where ice giants with beards glittering with ice waded through the cold. One of them touched the old man on the forehead and left a spot behind. He showed me a great caravan led by Solace wending its way through the landscape and then took me higher still, and we sat together on a cloud. He called me a princess, and I think I must have been one. I felt safe with him when he laughed. He offered to keep me warm, and I blushed, but I don't remember shying away...
It must have been a dream. I know I must have dreamed it.
... Didn't I?
With a look, the old man took me across the world. I saw great abandoned castles, black and brooding on the horizon, and a soldier's camp deep in the snow where ice giants with beards glittering with ice waded through the cold. One of them touched the old man on the forehead and left a spot behind. He showed me a great caravan led by Solace wending its way through the landscape and then took me higher still, and we sat together on a cloud. He called me a princess, and I think I must have been one. I felt safe with him when he laughed. He offered to keep me warm, and I blushed, but I don't remember shying away...
It must have been a dream. I know I must have dreamed it.
... Didn't I?
Written By Rey
Sept. 29, 2017, 11:01 a.m.(4/21/1007 AR)
In my dream, I stood under a roiling storm, but I wasn't afraid because the storm was mine, and I knew that if I reached out, I could hold the lightning in my hands. I met the weeping knight there, delicate and broken, but only for a moment. He came to offer me his cup of love and sorrow, but only that; then it was time for us to say goodbye.
The storm held its breath. I could feel the clouds change. I turned around, and saw him. The man from the beach. He spoke to me, but the words formed by his mouth weren't the words I heard, and I couldn't tell what was real anymore.
The storm held its breath. I could feel the clouds change. I turned around, and saw him. The man from the beach. He spoke to me, but the words formed by his mouth weren't the words I heard, and I couldn't tell what was real anymore.
Written By Rey
Sept. 26, 2017, 11:42 a.m.(4/14/1007 AR)
I was in a garden, the most beautiful garden I've ever seen, and I saw the tree. It was a proud, strange tree, standing high, and from it, shimmering, a fruit made of glistening crystal. Just one, dancing in the sunlight.
And then he came, the golden man, shining like the sun. The lord of the garden. He plucked the fruit for me. He offered it to me. I wanted it, but I shouldn't have accepted, not when I didn't know what he was giving me. No matter how brightly he shone.
The world turned inside-out, and I was drowning in moonlight. I was drowning. I was at the end, but also at the beginning, because beginnings are the reversal of endings, like being on the far side of a looking glass. I looked out over a field of bones, and I was afraid, because I didn't know how anyone could find me and take me home again.
As I woke up, I heard someone whispering in my ear. I wish I could remember what they said.
And then he came, the golden man, shining like the sun. The lord of the garden. He plucked the fruit for me. He offered it to me. I wanted it, but I shouldn't have accepted, not when I didn't know what he was giving me. No matter how brightly he shone.
The world turned inside-out, and I was drowning in moonlight. I was drowning. I was at the end, but also at the beginning, because beginnings are the reversal of endings, like being on the far side of a looking glass. I looked out over a field of bones, and I was afraid, because I didn't know how anyone could find me and take me home again.
As I woke up, I heard someone whispering in my ear. I wish I could remember what they said.
Written By Rey
Sept. 23, 2017, 10:56 a.m.(4/8/1007 AR)
I walked into a ballroom in the castle of eternity. There were only two dancers there, on the great gray expanse of the floor, a woman and a beast, somehow not exhausted yet, either of them, even though they've been dancing for so very long. It's a dangerous dance, more dangerous for the woman, because the beast has such terribly sharp teeth...
But there is danger for the beast, as well.
As I watched them dance, a door opened on the other side of the room, and HE came inside. The man from the mirror. He looked at me from across the room, and his gaze pinned me to the floor. He smiled, and I was terrified. He offered me his hand...
That was when I woke up.
Before, a part of me hoped that he would find his daughter. Fathers and daughters should be together. But now... I suppose it doesn't matter much. He's going to find her.
But there is danger for the beast, as well.
As I watched them dance, a door opened on the other side of the room, and HE came inside. The man from the mirror. He looked at me from across the room, and his gaze pinned me to the floor. He smiled, and I was terrified. He offered me his hand...
That was when I woke up.
Before, a part of me hoped that he would find his daughter. Fathers and daughters should be together. But now... I suppose it doesn't matter much. He's going to find her.
Written By Rey
Sept. 21, 2017, 5 p.m.(4/4/1007 AR)
I dreamed of dissonant voices that clashed with each other. I couldn't understand them, because they had forgotten how to speak. They'd forgotten everything they should have remembered. I remembered the words, but my voice was gone. I was alone, and I knew that was wrong, too.
Then he came. The man without a face. He held out his hand to me, because it was my choice to take it. He took me away from the voices. He drew aside the curtain, took me by the hand, and led me through to the other place. And I wasn't afraid, because this time I was invited. This time, I wasn't alone. I went forward into the other place with my body filled with light.
I felt nothing so much that it was time to walk away.
Then he came. The man without a face. He held out his hand to me, because it was my choice to take it. He took me away from the voices. He drew aside the curtain, took me by the hand, and led me through to the other place. And I wasn't afraid, because this time I was invited. This time, I wasn't alone. I went forward into the other place with my body filled with light.
I felt nothing so much that it was time to walk away.
Written By Rey
Sept. 18, 2017, 3:59 p.m.(3/26/1007 AR)
I dreamed of the tunnel again. This time, I went inside.
There was life there, the whole world stretched before my eyes, blue sky, and blue sea, and the place where sea and sky become one, just at the horizon. The world lived by the flickering of a lantern. I saw the goddess there, as well. Beautiful Mangata waited for me in a spear of light, my mother of the sea. I was afraid, and she sang to me. I was unsure, and she kissed me forehead and guided me gently on my way.
There was death there, as well, the kind of death that's an infinite stillness. A mirror stood in the center of the place beyond time, but when I looked into it, it wasn't my face I saw.
Except it wasn't a dream. Was it?
There was life there, the whole world stretched before my eyes, blue sky, and blue sea, and the place where sea and sky become one, just at the horizon. The world lived by the flickering of a lantern. I saw the goddess there, as well. Beautiful Mangata waited for me in a spear of light, my mother of the sea. I was afraid, and she sang to me. I was unsure, and she kissed me forehead and guided me gently on my way.
There was death there, as well, the kind of death that's an infinite stillness. A mirror stood in the center of the place beyond time, but when I looked into it, it wasn't my face I saw.
Except it wasn't a dream. Was it?
Written By Rey
Sept. 15, 2017, 1:59 p.m.(3/20/1007 AR)
Last night, I dreamed that the moonlight was stolen from me. A hole opened up inside of me, but a man, radiant like a king, caught my hand before I fell. He tried to pull me up, but the light was gone, and I was dying... I was too heavy to lift. I begged him to let me go before he was drawn in by the dark, but his eyes blazed with resolve and his fingers were bands of iron.
And then other hands reached out, and I saw smiling faces that blazed with light. Was it my light? I wasn't falling down anymore. I was falling in another direction, because the world had been turned on its side. The people were gone. The king was gone. I was alone on a blasted landscape, and the hole had become a tunnel that yawned wide.
I didn't have the courage to go inside. Not alone.
And then other hands reached out, and I saw smiling faces that blazed with light. Was it my light? I wasn't falling down anymore. I was falling in another direction, because the world had been turned on its side. The people were gone. The king was gone. I was alone on a blasted landscape, and the hole had become a tunnel that yawned wide.
I didn't have the courage to go inside. Not alone.
Written By Rey
Sept. 12, 2017, 11:05 a.m.(3/14/1007 AR)
I dreamed last night of a man who had darkness for a face and iron chains that bound innocence in his grip. A knight came on a galloping stag with antlers made of alaricite. Weeping gave birth to them both, and they are twins. Were they part of the plan? The world danced around me into the unknown: the King of Man, the Lord of Will, the Master of Bindings, and Death... until they stopped the music.
After that I woke up. I don't think I wanted to know what happened next. It wasn't a very nice dream.
After that I woke up. I don't think I wanted to know what happened next. It wasn't a very nice dream.
Written By Rey
Sept. 10, 2017, 6 p.m.(3/10/1007 AR)
So many people, energy, everywhere sounds and things, and so much to see. It's so strange for all of this to be holding its breath the way that it does; even the wind hangs on a moment, unable to sing. Buildings and people are scarred, some from what has come before, some in echoes of what is to come. But still, strength that leaves me in awe. Breathless, but unafraid. The sea won't wear this mountain away. Not yet.
Suspended animation.
I dreamed last night of a fire that radiated a warmth that only the soul could feel. As I drew close to it, a seeker, absolute truth filled me to overflowing. I saw that in the heart of the fire, there was a man, a man who stood and let himself be consumed, through the pain of his dying, so that his light could cast away the shadows. I loved him. I reached out to him, even though his spirit burnt my body. He started to look up.
I woke up before I could see his face.
Suspended animation.
I dreamed last night of a fire that radiated a warmth that only the soul could feel. As I drew close to it, a seeker, absolute truth filled me to overflowing. I saw that in the heart of the fire, there was a man, a man who stood and let himself be consumed, through the pain of his dying, so that his light could cast away the shadows. I loved him. I reached out to him, even though his spirit burnt my body. He started to look up.
I woke up before I could see his face.
Written By Rey
Feb. 5, 2017, 3:13 p.m.(11/10/1005 AR)
Yarrow is excellent for treatment of bleeding wounds, and for ailments of the blood within the body itself. It is also good for helping the body release fluid because when taken it provokes sweating and urination.
The flowering heads can be carried dried and whole in pouches, with fresh leaves, to be stuffed into bleeding wounds on the battle field (a very quick lifesaver if the nearest Mercy is some distance away!). Tinctures, ointments, and salves are effective in treating mild abrasions, bruises, and swelling; I have even seen that yarrow salve improves the elasticity of old scars! Because of the effect of spirits on the blood, thinning it, I prefer to use a non-alcoholic recipe for yarrow tincture when taken orally. This uses apple cider vinegar instead of spirits. I am told it improves the taste.
It can be used for treating fevers and colds too, because of the sweating properties. I favor a combination of yarrow, elder bark, boneset, and peppermint for mild illnesses, but every Mercy seems to have their own recipe!
It is marvelous the things that can be done when Lagoma, Petrichor, and Mangata come together, to work as one. Truly we are blessed to be dear to them, and in their care.
The flowering heads can be carried dried and whole in pouches, with fresh leaves, to be stuffed into bleeding wounds on the battle field (a very quick lifesaver if the nearest Mercy is some distance away!). Tinctures, ointments, and salves are effective in treating mild abrasions, bruises, and swelling; I have even seen that yarrow salve improves the elasticity of old scars! Because of the effect of spirits on the blood, thinning it, I prefer to use a non-alcoholic recipe for yarrow tincture when taken orally. This uses apple cider vinegar instead of spirits. I am told it improves the taste.
It can be used for treating fevers and colds too, because of the sweating properties. I favor a combination of yarrow, elder bark, boneset, and peppermint for mild illnesses, but every Mercy seems to have their own recipe!
It is marvelous the things that can be done when Lagoma, Petrichor, and Mangata come together, to work as one. Truly we are blessed to be dear to them, and in their care.
Please note that the scholars may take some time preparing your journal for others to read.