I needed a palette cleanser to help me. Here's the first post of 2016!
Writing Prompt:
The land was completely covered in ice, all but that one tree.
I never put too much stock in dreams. They were only a collection of our memories mingled with our subconcsious. Or if you're a Freudian or Jungian you'd think they meant more. I believe in scientific proof not magic. Though I will admit to maybe "magic" is just another word for science we just don't understand yet. And I still believe that even after what happened to me.
I'm an historian. I specialize in ancient artifacts having to do with the Vikings and their culture and I dabble in Medieval European History. Sounds boring but too many people forget the importance of history. Not many notice that no matter how far we humans advance we continue to make the same mistakes. Even ones who've learned history...
I began having the dream almost every night. It never changed. The land was completely covered in ice, all but that one tree. It was an ash tree. An ash tree with leaves as fresh and green as if it were summer time instead of the dead of winter. I approach it and feel nothing but warmth as if it were a roaring flame. All around me everything is dead, asleep under the ice but this tree is full of life. I touch it and feel a power surge through me. Then a serpent would slither up from the roots, encircle my wrist then without warning strike. Then I fall to the icy ground and wake up in my room. What did it mean?
Besides the oddness of my dream the morning was as normal as any other. It was 5:30 AM. I had my coffee. Dark Sumatra with lots of French Vanilla Cream and some granola cereal then I went for my 4 mile run. It was January so it was basically 20 degrees outside but the cold never bothered me that much. One of the reasons some people call me the Snow Queen. I was never the warmest person on campus or in general. Too much of a lone wolf. It never bothered me...
I came back from my morning run, warmed from the adrenaline and full of energy I went into my brown stone town house where I could smell the fresh scent of eggs and bacon. Aunt Ilsa was up. She was a professor in Mythology and Anthropology. You would think a respected academic such as my Aunt Ilsa would be more logical but no.
"Good Morning, my little Valkyrie," Aunt Ilsa presented me with a plate almost overflowing with bacon and eggs with white toast.
"I already ate, Aunt Ilsa," I said reaching for the fridge and pulling out a bottled water.
"You need to eat a little more and put more meat on those bones." Aunt Ilsa was a voluptuous woman and even for a woman in her mid 50s she was still attractive. She would still get hit on by men 10 to 15 years her junior.
"You had the dream again didn't you," Aunt Ilsa suspected.
"No," I lied. The first time it happened I shrugged it off as an odd dream until it began to happen more frequently until it was every time I closed my eyes.
"You can't hide from me, Ingrid," she tisked. "My third eye is always open."
"If you're so psychic how come you can never find your car keys?" I countered. Aunt Ilsa raised her elegant blonde eyebrow at me. Aunt Ilsa and I both taught at Wyvern University. She and I were the book academics in the family. My parents died when I was 8. They were archeologists who preferred the field but I preferred a desk inside safe walls. My parents died on a dig. Aunt Ilsa took me in.
"You can't keep ignoring your visions, dear," Aunt Ilsa argued. "Seeresses always treated their visions as heaven sent. It's destiny."
"Aunt Ilsa, they're not visions," I sighed more exhausted from the conversation than from running. "I can't believe you're an academic and you believe in fairytales. Old seers were schizophrenics who's visions were up for interpretation. The magic was in belief." I kissed Aunt Ilsa on the cheek in apology. She smiled weakly still convinced that she was right.
"I have to get ready for my class," I said, taking a small triangle of toast to appease my aunt.
* * * * *
In class I taught about Viking culture. This week was about the Viking religion and how it merged with Christianity. Yet there was a icky, heavy feeling in my stomach that I couldn't shake the whole day. I got those feelings sometimes. I used to think it was just anxiety. My psychiatrist prescribed me anti-anxiety pills which I popped before class but still the feeling was stronger. Class ended and the students went filing out all except for one. It was a man in a fine Armani suit in his late 40s, a red plaid scarf draped loosely over his shoulders hanging like the sashes of a Catholic Priest on special occasions. He was tall and slim almost towering over me.
"Professor Lindström," the man addressed me with a baritone voice. Up close he looked like a fine nobleman of Nordic descent having blond with some streaks of silver and icy blue eyes, with high cheek bones, a straight nose and high brow. "I've read your book, 'The Stories of the Vikings: Fact & Fiction'. I was very impressed."
"Thank you, Mr..."
"Sir Aleksander Wolff," he extended his hand and I noticed his large ring, a dragon with ruby studded eyes devouring it's own tail. I took his hand and the minute I touched it I felt a cold dread wash over me like a crashing ocean wave. I faltered using the desk as support.
"You alright?" Sir Wolff asked with great concern.
"Yes...," I lied. "Just a dizzy spell I get those sometimes... How can I help you, Sir Wolff?" I noticed Sir Wolff leaning on an ebony cane that had a sliver pewter dragon head. This guy was really into dragons. Didn't seem weird at the time...
"As I've said," Sir Wolff continued. "I've read your book on the myths and legends of the Vikings and how some may have been based on fact and others on fiction."
"I'm glad you liked it," I said.
"I would very much like to talk to you more about it," Sir Wolff seemed almost insistent. "I want to pick your brain..."
"I'd be happy to," I smiled though my insides were churning. "How about tomorrow night?"
"I look forward to it."
After he left I thought maybe it would be a huge mistake; that I should cancel but what harm could a drink and an academic conversation with a fan do? I was about to learn that next time I should trust my gut no matter how absurd.
If you would like for me to continue just comment! Thank You!
Yes! I'd love to know more! Who is this stranger? what does the tree represent or is it a real tree with magical powers?
ReplyDeleteWhat a great first post of 2016! :)
I'd be happy to write another one! Should be up this Wednesday
Delete