 |
| art Dragontamerby ~Graysun-D deviantart |
As I was drifting into sleep, I saw I was flying over
mountains, and valleys, the mountains sides covered in dark spruce, large lakes
dotted about, and deep irregular valleys, the sky a deep, purple blue In my mind I heard his
voice, calling to me, I asked him, where he was, as he said “ come to me,” landing, I got off the black stallion, that
I had been riding, and watched as he flew
away,
shrugging to myself, I walked through the dense, forest. Through a tangle of trees, I came to a deep
gully, looking down; it seemed endless, with no bottom, only the loose soil
edge, and tree roots. “Come to me” the
voice said, from within the deep crevice. “I can’t” I said, “are you to scared,
to climb down,” the warm deep, melodious, voice taunted, teasingly. “ No, I’m
not scared , I trust you,” I said, as I swung onto a root, and started the
steep descent into the darkness, clinging to the huge roots, so I didn’t fall, “ prove you trust me, “ said the voice, “ How”
I asked,
, as the
sun was setting.
“Trust and let go, fall into my arms, I will catch you” the
dis-embodied voice, laughed at me.
I took a deep breath, a small voice inside, telling me “no,
it may be a trap, and you’ll get stuck,” but, ignoring, my fears, and taking a deep breath, feeling the loving vibration of that deep,
soft, voice, that I felt I knew so well, I leant forward, closing my eyes, and
let myself fall.
Falling, softly,
gently floating, through smoky clouds, of pastel blue, grey, mauve I let myself
go completely, showing my full trust.
I landed on a cloud, or so it seemed, but the soft surface
underneath seemed alive, but solid, the smoke, around, me, swirling, in
undulating, drifts. Feeling sleepy, the voice again spoke to me, “come” I felt
my way, in the mist, and saw a vague image of a man, standing just ahead,
though the image seemed distorted, and his appearance kept changing, he was
like a hologram, first a Templar knight in full armour, then a younger version,
a romantic, young bard, with long flowing hair, a smooth complexion, a small goatee
beard, smouldering, stormy blue eyes. The
figure of the man, changed, appearance, again, a mature, hardened warrior. In gleaming
armour, then, the figure faded, again.
I walked to where the
figure had been standing, and found a bed, of dead leaves, soil, and bracken fronds,
wearily, aching and so tired; I curled up in the fronds, feeling the heavy breathing
of the creature I had landed on. Feeling the loving embrace of his coils, as he
carefully, caressed my tired body, lovingly, breathing his mists, over me, as I
drifted into, a dark, deep sleep, shadows surrounding, me. Vaguely, I was aware
that I looked down, at myself, asleep in the dragon’s coils, amongst the mellow,
wisps of smoke, asleep in the arms, of the handsome knight bard. Feeling safe deep in the shadows.
