The 10th day of the Scion, 1329 AE
I had a dream last night. Which of course is not unusual. Or perhaps it is. The tonics seem to be growing less and less effective and I often find myself at my desk or laying in bed awake, unable to sleep, yet unable to leave lest I encounter those that lurk beyond the sanctity of my room. Yet, I must have slept...
I found myself in a bustling city harboured on an expansive river. The day was warm, but the breeze cool as it rushed over my face and body. It did not occur odd to me at the time that I looked down upon the streets, felt no ground beneath my feet, or that everyone and everything seem so sharply contrasted and the colours so vivid. Yet when I would look to either side, I would see wings covered with mottled brown feathers, rustling silently as the air flowed over and under them.
I was set on pursuit of a particular target - a girl child in a rough-spun tunic and woollen pants. She ran erratically, darting in and amongst the crowd. On occasion, she would glance back over her shoulder and scowled whenever she peered up in my direction and caught sight of me. It is odd. Generally, I experience an overarching sense of dread, and the roles are quite the reverse as I attempt to out-manoeuvre my pursuers. Still, the woman-child did not appear particularly frightened, nor was my state of emotion one of malice.
I followed her into a tavern, barely able to flutter in through an open door before it shut upon me. There, I perched myself within the rafters above the bar and observed. The girl was reckless as I have ever seen, nearly bowling into a gentleman at the counter in her efforts to hastily gain the bartender’s attention. And after, she did not appear to offer any form of apology. Not that I could truly confirm that. The words they spoke were incomprehensible, as though a foreign language, or perhaps spoken through the depths of water. Distant and distorted.
The girl conversed for some time with the barkeep and the man whom she had disturbed. And after, a third man approached her from her rear and engaged her in seemingly innocent discussion. I recall my feathers ruffling despite that. And after all this, she simply raced out, empty-handed, hell-bent for the outskirts of town, and I never did learn the outcome as I awoke before catching up to her.
But I can not help shake a feeling of familiarity with the girl, and a subdued gravity behind the dream.