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Kaya's Dream: The Forest of Kings

March 2, 2007

You are riding on a pale horse through a dense thicket. It is dusk and the world seems misty and gray. You seem to lose your way a great deal, and flitting lights distract you as you ride. You hear a deep and slow orchestral melody as you ride, reminiscent of the last snippet of opera you heard.

In the thicker, you come upon a set table where there are sitting several men and women all slumped over motionless and covered in cobwebs. The dishes on the table are overflowing with tiny white spiders that seem to be made of some sort of power and crumble under your hands. They are all chirping a dissonant and sad song that jars with the operatic prelude elsewhere.

"Go fetch me a nun from a dungeon deep
Or water from a stone
Or white milk from a maiden's breast
That babe has ne'er known."

The man at the head of the table looks up and you see it is Evans. He wears a crown made of lilies. Dust and cobweb fall from him as he slowly motions to the others who all seem to writhe and turn toward you. The others all wear crowns. One of oak leaves, one of thorns, one of swords, and one of jewels.

Suddenly, the knight from your previous vision leaps out of the thicket on a black horse, spear in hand. He charges toward the group and impales Evans through the throat. Blood and black liquid pour from him and the crown of lilies falls from his head, spattered in gore. As he falls the others at the table shift and turn to stone monuments, and the knight, in sympathetic pain falls from his horse.

From Evans' split blood arise five spectres that mourn the fallen knight. One is a young man with similar features to the knight. One is a girl covered in bruises with a kind but sad face. One is a young girl holding a knife and looking skittish. One is a man you saw at the table before, who wore the crown of oak leaves.

The last is the pale woman. She refuses to look at you.

You wake up.

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