Nightingale and the Witch
What a strange dream I had last night. Normally I don't mention them because my dreams are only minorly interesting. They're hardly worth going into detail. But occasionally I get one that's super creative. And this is one of those.
I dreamed of an ancient city. I guess it was Asian but it looked more Greek or Roman in construction and architecture. Anyway there were some buildings and people there, in the "modern" city. But there was a FAST ocean, like a bay, that had flooded the rest of the city long ago, centuries ago. And the water is always so still. You can look out and see all the buildings and homes and streets through the clear blue salt water. No one goes out on the water, really. There's no reason to. There are no treasures, no fish to catch, and it's almost impossible to navigate a boat through the tall buildings. Dangerous.
But the part of the city that was on the hill survived, that population (where people fled to) survived. And it grew into a larger city. But always with the underwater history lurking beside them. It was a city full of mystery. While there were no cars or technology to speak of from this modern stand point it was still strangely modern in society.
There was a sort of Emperor and Empress (of which I was more or less the empress, or at least borrowing her point of view). She was foreign and sent over to marry the Emperor for political reasons. He was a big man with balding black hair and little eyes. His face was painted white with red lines (like a kabuki actor) and his clothes were just as extravagant. Gold and red satins, velvet, and black and white stripes. He had a loud, booming voice and was always very serious, he rarely ever smiled. But he wasn't cruel or mean nor did he give way into his emotions. He took it upon himself to show me the palace.
His gaggle of advisors were less splendidly dressed, mostly in purples and blues like peacocks, and they hung around the outskirts of rooms peering in through windows or doorways to study the newcommer. They whispered in a language the new empress did not understand. The empress was tall and thin and very pale. Her pale blonde hair was waist-length when it wasn't tied up in intricate braids. She had fine, delicate features, and wide blue eyes. She was quiet most of the time, not understanding the native language very well. Though the emperor spoke hers quite well.
He explained that there had been a great natural disaster where the city had been flooded. And since then they have been too scared to drain the area and rebuild. For fear that it would happen again. The palace was also the local temple. And the water lapped at the foundation. From the west wing of the palace it was a straight drop into the ocean and the still glass-like pool stretched on for what seemed like ages. The emperess thought she could see a face somewhere in the distance in a crooked stone tower bending over the water. The emperor explained that the local people often reported seeing ghosts of those who had died in the flood, refusing to abandon their homes or their posessions. He explained that one, long ago, there had been twin palaces built in mirror image. The emperor was to move between the two palaces so he could always monitor his kingdom personally. He didn't explain the face in the distance but there was a great deal of history. He said, sadly, that when the flood came it destroyed the other palace and he took it to mean that it was a bad omen of rough times to come. As the years since had been rough. But he only knew what the scholars had recorded. The history was much older than himself.
He showed the new empress through some more rooms and then to meet his daughter, the princess. She was a tall, slender, beautiful woman with long black hair and a round face. She did not like foreigners or this new woman as her mother. She politely bowed when she was introduced but said nothing. Dressed in her dark red and purple robes she turned her back on her father and her new mother to go back to her needleworking.
When alone later that night she found herself wallowing in her rage at the foreigner, upset that her father would choose to marry such an ugly woman. She thought the woman's long limbs and thin lips made her look like a man, a ghostly pale man. She thought it would be more proper for him to marry a native woman of the court, someone who looked like they did. Now the daughter, who had a name like Nightingale, or would be but in the native language, had always been spiritual. She always paid close attention to the stories of locals when they told of ghosts or mystical animals. They were somewhat common reports in this area, saturated in ages of magic. She knew her father's magicians were as serious as she was about their sorcery. But she was a woman and not allowed to learn such crafts. And now she wished she could learn them so she could put a curse on this ugly, pale woman.
Remembering a story she had heard from a local sheep herder about a woman down through the forest and by the water, an old crone, who would grant you a wish if you completed a task for her. Nightingale decided she would go that night and speak with the old woman, as a member of the royal family, and have this woman removed at once. And when the sun sank low in the sky and turned everything a crimson red and gold, she got dressed in some cotton robes the color of olives and dandelions. She crept from the palace, avoiding her personal guards, and through the palace gardens. She walked for a couple of hours until the moon was high in the sky and lighting her way. She followed the paths of sheep herders, worn through the vegetation, until she came to the water's edge.
A hunched-over shadow hung by the water filling a bucket. It couldn't be for drinking because it was ocean water. Nightingale knew this must be the woman. "Woman," she said, "are you the witch that grants wishes in return for a favor?" The old woman did not look up but spoke in a crackled voice. "What is it you want, child? What have you dared to bother me with?"
Nightingale suddenly felt vulnerable. She hadn't thought to realize that a woman of such power probably did not like being arbitrarily bothered with things. But this was important and a matter of national security. A foreign empress! "I need to speak with you. I am a member of the royal famil---"
"---I know who you are," the crone said turning around. She had wild, busy white hair, long and wispy in the moon light. Her eyes were pale and silver, shining like a cat's. Nightingale wasn't sure she was even human. The woman worked still to fill some buckets full of salt water. She did not stop for the meddling of a child. "What is it that you want?"
"I want you to get rid of this new foreign empress come to live in our country. She has no right to be here. She is a bad omen and will bring ruin upon us all."
The witch just nodded absent mindedly. "I can grant your wish, per haps, but only if you can prove to me that your conviction is true. I do not grant wishes on the basis of fleeting emotions. You have to prove to me that you are worth the effort and magic put in. To do this you must complete for me a task. Through the woods there you will find a path." She pointed at a long, seemingly endless stretch of woods. The wind blew off the water and from the hillsides, never in the same direction twice. "You must never follow the direction of the wind, if even to stay on the path."
Nightingale chewed her pretty bottom lip. She had never had to endure hardship before. "And because I am such a kind witch, I will send my assistant with you. She is a silly girl, but she may be able to help you. Though she will not be able to speak to you." The witch shouted a name in a language Nightingale did not understand and from the darkness came a young girl, about 15 years old, younger than Nightingale who was 18. The girl was plain and wore brown and tan laborer's clothes. Her hair was tied back into a ponytail at the base of her neck and she carried with her a basket full of berries. "Nameless Girl, you are to help the princess on her quest. Set the basket down and join your new master on her journey." The girl did as she was told and stood by Nightingale, staring curiously at her.
The night was dark and they were given no latern to navigate by. And so with conviction fixed Nightingale took the first steps into the dark woods. And the briars cut her legs, the rocks were uncomfortable under her slippers. She found that she had to concentrate very hard to always keep the wind at her front or sides. She wondered how she would ever get to where she needed to go walking blindly in the forest. Soon they knew they were lost entirely. Nightingale turned one way and then the wind would shift and she would sharply have to turn another way. She was scared to find out what would happen to her if she followed the path of the wind. But the Nameless Girl was clumbsy in her youth. At one such juncture her foot slipped and her foot touched the path and she had to stand up, with the wind directly at her back. Brambles and roots sprang up from the ground, wrapping around Nameless Girl's legs. She screamed and flailed but the briars were unrelenting. Eventually she had been tangled in them and pulled against the tree, squeezed until she breathed no more. She would become fertilizer to feed the forest. Nightingale did not want this to happen to her so she had to leave the girl and proceed. She did not know the witch was watching.
The wind ended after that at the water's edge. The witch stood there looking at the bedraggled princess. "Very good. Your conviction is strong. You would rather complete your task than save that peasant girl. It's no worry, princess," the witch said seeing her tear-streaked face. "She was no real girl anyway. You did that task on your own. Magic has many manifestations."
The witch turned towards the water and little items rose up from beneath the dark glassiness like lilypads. "If your conviction is still strong you will be able to make it to that rocky island." The witch pointed a bony finger towards a large rock island out in the water. The sun was just starting to warm the sky with a comforting orange glow. The princess set herself and took her first step towards the path of floating step stones. But she hesitated. They were various knives, blades, and razors. She looked at the witch questioningly. "Step lightly, child, and never hesitate." And then the witch was just simply gone.
Nightingale grabbed a tree branch and stepped onto the first one and it immediately started to sink. She lept to the second one, it, too, started to sink and she no longer had a tree branch to balance on. She toppbled towards the third blade and tried to imagine herself as a dragonfly dancing on the water of a koi pond, not wanting to stop to be eaten. She danced and lept from one blade to the other always trying to land so she wouldn't get cut and trying to move fast enough not to sink. The water was dark and she did not want to know what was down there. She scrambled, awkwardly and ungracefully from one to the next. She had forgotten her royal grace and had to scurry for safety. It felt too long before her feet touched down on the warm dusty shore of the island. Her feet had barely been cut and she was, actually, quite proud of herself.
But then she looked up at the large rock wall in front of her and saw a giant screen showing a group of about 44 women dressed in fine silks, but looking very tough and serious. A voice, low and tinged with accent, commanded her to choose her first opponent. She looked at the screen painted with the women and pointed at the first one who didn't seem to be very mean-looking. And before she knew it the woman was before her. The woman had dark tan skin, braided brown hair, and wore baggy pants with curve-toed shoes. The little red gem in the middle of her forehead glimmered in the dawn's light. Nightingale thought pants on a woman was just scandalous. That was what a man would wear! But the woman attacked her. The first punch caught her off guard but the shock numbed the pain. Fearing for her life Nightingale flung herself into the fit. Moments later she had knocked the woman unconscious. But terrified at her own actions she sat down to sort through it. But another woman in a similar outfit, this time in blue, appeared. And she waisted no time in attacking Nightingale. And with more difficulty than the last, she managed to defeat this woman by savagely beating her unconscious. Nightingale did not like what she had to do but felt that if she lost it would be a far worse fate.
And then yet another woman appeared, this one was very tall and looked honestly more like a man than Nightingale ever thought possible. She thought that even at the bath house this woman would look like a man. And with even more difficulty, exhausted and hurting from the many blows she had taken, she managed to knock this woman into a daze. A bell sounded and the woman faded from sight. The voice of the witch wafted through the air, "Very good, child. There are few who could defeat a genie, for they are great and powerful, let alone three. Perhaps your conviction is enough to to complete the next task."
And then I woke up.
Sucks, huh? Pretty fun dream.