Ex Glacia Libre [written is Sasha's dream journal]
I dreamed this night about a dark and shining sword. I knew, in the way of dreams, that an enemy was coming. A storm it stood, upon the horizon, lit from within in flashes and snarling thunder at a city of glass. I opened a book, and through it I fled to a mountain girded with white. There I plucked a blue lily from the snow and climbed to a cave near the summit. Inside the cave was a bowl, and in the bowl, a sea. I reached in, with the lily, and the water was colder than I have ever felt. I reached as deep as I could, and felt the stem change in my hand. When I withdrew, the blade was in my hand.
Then I woke, with a suddenness, and found my hand as cold as ice. I sit now, and wonder what the dream may mean.
Sasha pauses, chewing the end of her pen in thought, but can think of no more to add. She sets it down, and looks back over the words she wrote, curled at the foot of the bed.
Then I woke, with a suddenness, and found my hand as cold as ice. I sit now, and wonder what the dream may mean.
Sasha pauses, chewing the end of her pen in thought, but can think of no more to add. She sets it down, and looks back over the words she wrote, curled at the foot of the bed.