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[astorycalled]

I dreamt that I was drowning. I breathed in icy water and it felt like hot spears through my lungs. I had fallen through spires of stone and the warmth of my blood ebbed away in my vision, creating a nearly purple veil. I looked up to see at first a lone figure far, far above me staring down the sheer white cliff. Soon the spirits appeared, glancing down at the one they had long ago called murderer, savior, lover and even once mother. I wished my hollow vessel would die but as the first payment for my sins, I lingered long. I thought of all the words the Vikings had for ice and finally understood what it meant. I fixed the last strings of my consciousness onto the single solid figure. I tied all my hatred to him to insure that in the lives to come, he would never succeed in the ventures that created the need for my death. When I felt there was no more to do I sunk back into the wonderfully warm darkness. I laid in furs near a fire, so comfortably warm and so near sleep. Sleep would not come though, for there was an icy breeze that kept me from crossing that boundary. This was limbo and this is where I stayed until I stirred to venture back into the cold of the world.

I dreamt that I was living.