Art Credit: http://satoru-13.deviantart.com/art/OC-Silver-217086803 http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2011/187/9/8/oc___silver_by_satoru_13-d3l8x8z.jpg

Musings of a Banshee

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"People do not seem to realize that their opinion of the world is also a confession of character." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

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http://fc05.deviantart.net/fs5/i/2005/004/f/4/Black_Knight_by_DaveIgo.jpg

Someone Else's Nightmare

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"The unconscious mind of man sees correctly even when conscious reason is blind and impotent." - Carl Gustav Jung

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I awoke sharply. Kristoph had his arm over me with his hand lightly gripping my shoulder. He spoke soothingly as he broke me free of my nightmare. He asked if I was alright. My opened eyes were quickly orienting me back to our room. I turned towards him and smiled, embarrassedly aware of my whimpering in my sleep. I replied softly that I was fine. He returned to his back, extending his arm closet to me. I lifted up my head to let his arm slide under me. I rested my head on his shoulder and my hand on his chest as he held me tightly against him.

I didn't want to go into it. It wasn't important anyway; just a simple dream.

The dream began well enough. I was riding on horseback as I met Kristoph. It wasn't him, I'm sure, but in dreams everyone seems to resemble someone in your life. It couldn't have been him; he was so cruel to me. I don't even remember what he said or did, just how it hurt me. After that, I was in some large event, or seemed to be. Isn't it funny how dreams play like movies" You just are all of a sudden in a new setting, doing a new scene. In real life, you remember how you got there, but in dreams, you just are there, right where you need to be.

Kristoph's rhythmic breathing comforted me as I lay against him. Funny how your dreams start to disappear from your memory as you wake. I only remember bits and pieces now. I was put on trial for something, accused of something. I don't know what it was, but I knew I was guilty. How could that be? There seemed to be death all around this place in my dream. Was I somehow to blame" I stood on trial with a heavy heart. There was a man there with no face. He was judge and jury. I watched as he executed a man right in front of me, breaking him, shattering him into countless pieces. I wanted to scream, but couldn't.

Kristoph woke me then. I kissed his neck softly and returned my head to his shoulder. I had a peaceful night's rest in his arms, but I would not forget the Man With No Face.

References "Indivisible": http://rdi.dragonsmark.com/forums/viewtopic.php"t=26745 Art Credit: http://daveigo.deviantart.com/art/Black-Knight-13795828

http://fc08.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2010/230/d/d/Secret_Garden_by_glamz.jpg

Stopping to Smell the Roses

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" Stretching his hand up to reach the stars, too often man forgets the flowers at his feet." - Jeremy Bentham

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I had been lost for awhile.

I went on with my normal tasks of planning, paperwork, census reports, and other insignificant things on behalf of Bristle Crios. At one time, I loved it. I loved organizing everything to how many guests we had to how many bottles of olive oil was in each house's main kitchen. But lately, my heart had been restless. I tried to involve myself in different things to find a new interest. Today, I thought to try flower arranging. I had heard it was a peaceful way to organize one's thoughts while organizing the visual appeal of the blooms.

I meandered around the various gardens located by Eternal House. I had taken my residence there for awhile now. Kristoph and I moved from my room in Demon House to his in Eternal. I thought that change would be enough to sustain me, but I found myself out in nature searching for something more. I began with a few white lilies nearby then made my way to the gardenias, as they were a staple in the pieces I wanted to create. I wanted to enhance the beauty and the aroma in each of the rooms the flowers were to be displayed.

I wanted to compliment the golds, deep reds, and dark woods in the house, so I picked up some maroon red dahlias. Layer after layer of petals bloomed outwards in a seemingly infinite spiral. I wondered if there was some deeper meaning there, but I chose to ignore what seemed like a metaphor for my endless spiral into a meaningless existence. Instead, I focused on its natural beauty and the wonders of nature. As I walked along a path, deep red roses jumped out at me. I selected a few, hoping they would give an elegant velvet feel to the arrangements. Visual, olfactory, and now tactile stimulation, just with flowers. What other senses where left' Sound and taste. I'm sure I could find edible flowers, maybe berries for pops of color. Maybe I could add in a few leafy plants that could rustle against the blooms creating a soft sound"

No. I was doing it again. I made everything so analytical. I had to organize everything. Why couldn't I just pick flowers that seemed beautiful, that could make me happy' I had to go and make a whole project out of it, making each flower fit some function. I should be taking a cue from the flowers I was holding. Even if no one came along, the flowers would still bloom. The plants gave all they had to produce beautiful blossoms for no greater purpose than because it was content to do so.

I looked around to find the most amusing outlandish flower and soon found an orange tulip creation with numerous, large, wavy petals. I questioned using orange with the reds and whites, but I told myself to relax, and just create. I wanted one more variety and was relieved to find some deep orange orchids. Their white centers contained a little hint of dark red. I was so ecstatic to find one to tie all my colors together, unifying the flowers in the arrangement. Content in my choices, I made my way back to Eternal House. I stopped for a moment as I came out of the garden, looking at the full bundle of blooms in my arms. I did it again. They looked well thought out in their pairings, perfectly over organized. Flower arranging was not going to help me find my inner peace.

I looked up and saw a new guest, a girl with a white mare. I sighed and smiled. My mind began racing of all the things I would need to do. I would give her a tour, same way I had done countless times before, all going along in a methodical route, explaining important aspects of the community and the grounds along the way. I would see if she needed a place to stay for the night and get her set up in a clean room with fresh supplies. I sighed, knowing I could not escape my inner conflicts, at least not today. How in the world would I be able to promote this place as a safe haven for her to stay when I was the one who needed to get away from my own issues" I was just as lost.

As always, I maintained my smile. "Hello, traveler."

References "Drawn Through the Wind": http://rdi.dragonsmark.com/forums/viewtopic.php?t=27441 Art Credit: http://glamz.deviantart.com/art/Secret-Garden-175874247

http://th00.deviantart.net/fs70/PRE/f/2010/356/f/1/oneirology_by_loish-d35eii1.jpg

Rapid Realization

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"The world's not a very comfortable place if you have a nightmare to face." - Tommy Lee Jones

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My dreams rapidly faded in from one to the next. In one moment, I was flying through the clouds in a thunderstorm. In the next, I was sitting at a table eating cake at a birthday party. Instances flipped like changing the television station. There were dreams in which I wanted to stay on those channels forever, never wanting to wake up. Then there were nightmares that I wished I could cut to a commercial break.

I was facing battle and drew my sword. The sword had double blades on its hilt, both parallel, creating a two tine fork appearance. As I fought, more men descended upon my position. I needed to take more than one at a time. In an instant, I took the hilt of my sword in both hands, unlocking it, and splitting it. In both hands, I wielded one full blade. They were beautiful swords, versatile and accurate. They acted like extensions of myself.

I was then in what seemed like an old ghost town. I was looking for someone, I think. I don't know what he did, but he had wronged me somehow. I wanted to burn down every building until I found him. I raised my palms to one of the buildings. Filled with hatred, it became my fuel. I could see nothing but fire in my eyes, as the fire became mirrored in my hands, shooting forward against the exterior of the building. I didn't stop until the entire side of the building was rapidly engulfed in flames. Before it even had a chance to burn down, I had moved onto the next building, creating a wave of fiery destruction in my path.

I was then holding an infant. My child. I had just given birth. My whole insides had been through what I would have sworn was the most excruciating pain in my life, but I kept baring down. I wanted this baby more than anything I had ever wanted. I would have done anything, suffered through anything. I didn't know if my body could bear what I was willing it to do, but eventually, the baby was out. I held my breath until it took its first and began to cry. Half laughing and half crying, I was so happy that I was in hysterics. The rest of the world was caving in around me, but this child was now my whole world. I knew I could never forget this moment in my life, all of my lives. But something happened.

It was then when I woke up. My dreams and nightmares had progressively gotten worse over the past year. After my last series, I was sure now. They were not simply dreams; they were broken memories. I wasn't sure if what I had dreamed was even true, but I knew one thing in my heart.

I had a child.

Art Credit: http://loish.deviantart.com/art/oneirology-190473769 and http://loish.net/

https://stainedglassinc.com/glass/full/5534.jpg Of The Son ~~~ "When the solution is simple, God is answering." - Albert Einstein ~~~ I walked south to the large Catholic Church in the Old Temple district. It had been awhile since I set foot in a church, let alone a Catholic one. I grew up on Tory Island, a small, devout Catholic island off the northern coast of Ireland. I didn't even know other religions existed until I was off the island, not that I would have pursued a relationship with God any further. I had blamed Him for my untimely demise. I had blamed Him for the abomination I had become. I had blamed Him for taking away everything I had, the happiness I could have had. The day of my wedding, my fianc" was killed in front of me, his body thrown out into the ocean. Tied to the Tau cross in my white wedding dress, I was then stoned to death. I awoke on mainland Ireland, unaware of my surroundings or my new abilities. All I could do was hate He who I felt responsible. I hated Him for over a lifetime, but even hate can fade in eternity. Over time, I realized my life had taken a different path, one that I believe it was meant to instead. I found and adopted two beautiful girls, one of which went on to marry and have a child of her own. I even found love again. I had faith that God had intervened so I would find Kristoph. Although I did not have proof of divine involvement, I have learned true faith isn't about evidence. I walked inside the doors of the church. Part of me always feared I would be encouraged to follow some Holy Light or some other superstitious myth just by walking inside a sacred space. I was always unsure of what I am, and if I would be welcome there. Was I simply a ghost, cursed to walk God's Earth for eternity' Was I an undead monstrosity, a blight even God would not accept into His Heaven" No matter what I am in His eyes, it was not why I was there. I should have been there to give thanks for all of the many blessings in my life. Instead, I had come for guidance. My dreams had been filled with images, things I couldn't shake. Even my thoughts during the day became flooded with scenes I couldn't understand. I bowed my head as I dipped the forefingers of my right hand into the blessed water at the front of the church. Making the Sign of the Cross over my forehead, I whispered silently, slowly, letting each word hold its own importance, "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen." I walked to a pew, lowered myself onto one knee, again bowing my head, rose, and then sat down by the aisle.