(no subject)
Whiteout. A brutal snow-storm of a landscape. Impossible to see even a few feet in any direction. Rushing through with a sense of urgency, a female figure wearing a full-body thick white protective garment leaps over invisible obstacles on icy terrain.
Abruptly, before she can even realize it, she is decapitated. Her head falls to the ice. There is no blood. A male figure holding a yellow-tinged in one hand blade picks it up, holds it at arm's length, and seems to be about to gloat over his kill when he, too, is suddenly decapitated. Again, no blood.
It is the same female figure. She is a goddess who cannot be killed. She removes her hood and reaches down for the head of her attacker. Her skin is light blue. While inspecting it, she whirls around and slashes with her own blue-tinged blade, meeting the yellowish one in a clash. He is also a god, and he too cannot be killed. Intent on studying him, she hesitates, and is cut down once again. The yellow god then hurries along, leaping as she did from the outset, before being cut down himself from an unseen angle. The storm has ever so slightly lessened.
The battle continues as it has been: each being rapidly and decisively cut down by the other. Up and down mountains they go, dieing and mysteriously reappearing to exact swift revenge. The god melts the snow and ice as he travels. The place they are in belongs to the goddess, who is of the ice, and she has the advantage. The god, however, is of the fire, and slowly but surely gains influence and removes the fog of the storm. They move with amazing speed and grace, and rarely clash blades. It is as if each would rather die quickly and cleanly, and then immediately settle the score, than engage in a true sword fight. With each death visibility increases and more terrain can be seen.
Eventually, after much fighting, they both stop at the exact same time, awestruck by the extreme magnificence of the environment they have created. It is now impossibly beautiful. The sun is shining and they are standing together in a great cavern of an ice structure. Light from the entire spectrum of deep blue, to white, to bright yellow radiates everywhere. Whereas at the beginning they both were dressed to survive the cold, they now wear much less in this more temperate, yet still icy, paradise. The blades are gone.
Some unspoken, unknown rule forces them to part ways. They have bonded through the battle and neither wishes to leave the other. They embrace and kiss. He burns her lips and skin, as she freezes his. She is crying. Tragic, nostalgic violin music accompanies the moment. Speaking to him for the first time, she asks, "will I ever see you again?"
Then my alarm went off. I've only had one other dream as vivid as this one in my life that I can remember. I feel like I was about to receive some serious insight too
Abruptly, before she can even realize it, she is decapitated. Her head falls to the ice. There is no blood. A male figure holding a yellow-tinged in one hand blade picks it up, holds it at arm's length, and seems to be about to gloat over his kill when he, too, is suddenly decapitated. Again, no blood.
It is the same female figure. She is a goddess who cannot be killed. She removes her hood and reaches down for the head of her attacker. Her skin is light blue. While inspecting it, she whirls around and slashes with her own blue-tinged blade, meeting the yellowish one in a clash. He is also a god, and he too cannot be killed. Intent on studying him, she hesitates, and is cut down once again. The yellow god then hurries along, leaping as she did from the outset, before being cut down himself from an unseen angle. The storm has ever so slightly lessened.
The battle continues as it has been: each being rapidly and decisively cut down by the other. Up and down mountains they go, dieing and mysteriously reappearing to exact swift revenge. The god melts the snow and ice as he travels. The place they are in belongs to the goddess, who is of the ice, and she has the advantage. The god, however, is of the fire, and slowly but surely gains influence and removes the fog of the storm. They move with amazing speed and grace, and rarely clash blades. It is as if each would rather die quickly and cleanly, and then immediately settle the score, than engage in a true sword fight. With each death visibility increases and more terrain can be seen.
Eventually, after much fighting, they both stop at the exact same time, awestruck by the extreme magnificence of the environment they have created. It is now impossibly beautiful. The sun is shining and they are standing together in a great cavern of an ice structure. Light from the entire spectrum of deep blue, to white, to bright yellow radiates everywhere. Whereas at the beginning they both were dressed to survive the cold, they now wear much less in this more temperate, yet still icy, paradise. The blades are gone.
Some unspoken, unknown rule forces them to part ways. They have bonded through the battle and neither wishes to leave the other. They embrace and kiss. He burns her lips and skin, as she freezes his. She is crying. Tragic, nostalgic violin music accompanies the moment. Speaking to him for the first time, she asks, "will I ever see you again?"
Then my alarm went off. I've only had one other dream as vivid as this one in my life that I can remember. I feel like I was about to receive some serious insight too