Home
dreamwalker // Svea //
IP: 199.21.85.184
Posted on April 23, 2016 at 11:26:47 AM by Eskel



The air in the lodge was thick with heat, and sweat, and fragrant smoke. The hazy humidity made the room seem – feel – darker, as if the firelight could not make headway against a shadow with weight. Eskel kept his eyes averted from the fire and squinted, to keep his gaze accustomed to the dark. He did not know where he was going, he had never done this particular ritual before, and he wanted to have all his faculties about him.

His breath came slow and heavy, the burning herbs gradually doing their work. He was lightheaded, slightly disembodied. Sweat rolled off of him in fat drops. His feet and chest were bare, but he wore cotton breeches, and the shackles of his faith, and the wolfhood of his order. The muzzle of the wolf cast a jagged, flickering shadow over his face.

A shape moved into the space between Eskel and the fire, casting him wholly into darkness. The presti bent toward him, holding a stoneware cup in one hand, a rough clay sculpture of a wolf in the other. Both objects looks unassuming, but Eskel knew better than to trust merely his eyes. He bowed low before the Presti, spreading his hands over the beaten earth floor. Even the dirt was hot. Above him, men and women were murmuring words, first one group, then another, in a kind of call and response. Their voices were monotone, but in their cadences, Eskel heard a kind of music. He rose up to sit on his heels, and the Presti held the cup to his lips to drink.

The potion was like fire in his throat – peppery and herbal and highly alcoholic. Eskel drank without flinching, though the flavor made his eyes water. When the cup was completely drained, the Presti removed it from his lips, and placed the totem in his waiting hands.

The effect was instantaneous. Eskel slumped forward, unconscious. On earth, hands reached out to steady him.

In the dream, his own hands were suddenly wrist-deep in snow. Eskel blinked rapidly, squinting against the glare, stretching his fingers beneath the impossible whiteness. It should have been cold. Skin bare and glazed with sweat, he should have felt the chill immediately, as if he’d stepped out of the lodge into dead winter…but he hadn’t actually stepped anywhere, and the heat of Earth clung to him. The effect was disorienting. He closed his eyes, drew a breath that burned. With care, he rose to standing.

Slowly, his eyes opened. The brightness was moonlight, it seemed, although much brighter than any moonlight he’d seen. Snow stretched in every direction in gentle, pillowy hills. In the distance, Eskel could just make out the beginning of a tree line. He turned a slow circle, sluggish with heat, leaving a deep furrow of white. The landscape behind him was more of the same, with the prominent exception of a small cottage, flocked with glittering ice. He moved toward it, squinting and sweating, until he could just make out some light within.

“Hello?” He called, in a voice that did not betray his hesitation.




Replies:

Post a reply:
Name:
Email:
Subject:
Message:
Link Name:
Link URL:
Image URL:
Password To Edit Post:







Create Your Own Free Message Board or Free Forum!
Hosted By Boards2Go Copyright © 2020


<-- -->