Dream Journal

I was in a writing class with maybe 8 other students. In the first part, we had to write something. I was writing a story, though I don’t remember what it was about. I remember looking down at my writing and it was strangely scribbly. It looked like how I wrote when I was in elementary school and still getting some of my letters wrong. The teacher told us to stop writing for the next part of the class, but I just had to finish up my thought. He came around and poked me hard in the back. I stopped, but then said seriously to him “You will not poke me in the back like that again.” For the next part, he handed out these stamp kits. He had us pass our stories to someone else, and we were to take the stamps and stamp words on their story in funny or appropriate places, which sounded like fun.

It’s likely the next part was the story I was writing during class. This is a version of “The DeadStorm”, an event in a fantasy novel I hope to finish one day.

I was in a medieval village, with lots of people everywhere. It felt sort of like a Renaissance Festival but everyone was in costume and it went on as far as the eye could see. There was a storm overhead. I was in a black tent building selling swords and various things. I floated out and peered up at the storm. “Wouldn’t that be cool if there was a black path of the storm coming right overhead, like a dark road?” I thought, and looked up to see it become so. “Darker,” I thought, and it darkened. “Darker still,” I thought. Then I turned to one of the villagers and cast words into his mind, which he spoke, “What dark and foreboding sign is this in the clouds?” Then with glee, I asked myself, “So what comes down this frightening dark path in the sky? Demon horsemen. The undead.” I looked up, and there were the hoofs of horsemen showing through the dark clouds in the sky, galloping overhead. “Hmm.. I wish I could see them better.” I drifted into the black tent building and thought, “Let’s try this.. footsteps on the roof!” and as I looked up, skeletal footprints pressed down on the cloth fabric of the roof as the walkers on the Dead Storm passed more closely overhead. The medieval villagers were deliciously scared. I was delighted. “One should burst through!” I thought. So one did; a skeleton tore through the fabric, landed, and with a wave of his hand, pulled the soul from a villager. The villager crumpled before him, leaving the golden sparkling circle of his soul slowly fading out.

I floated outside again and looked up. I decided to try to make the cloud riders more visible. “Let’s try this,” I thought, and the dark cloud path became wispy and transparent and the riders became visible, but it didn’t really work without the dark cloud path. It wasn’t as scary, so I brought it back. But them descending from the path worked really well. So I called one down out here where a ton of villagers were standing, practically evenly spaced along the road. A demon man came down from the sky this time and landed in the road near me. “He’s going to take the souls of everyone around him!” I dictated, and since I was standing near him, I thrust my hands out and released a wave of force, propelling me backwards and up the hill just in time to avoid his death spell, which killed all the people in a 30 foot circle around him.

I awoke at this point, and it was the most gentle awakening. Still interested in the dream, and still possessing the exact same consciousness that was directing the dream, I continued it in my waking mind. “Now it is time to take my vengeance against you, demon.” I thought, and I took the form of a powerful angel with curly flowing blond hair. I held a long shining blade in my hands.

The imagery here was as bright and memorable as the rest of the dream. It was taking place in the exact same mental place and generated by the exact same part of the mind. Continuing:

I felt a moment of fear and since I didn’t want to be touched by him, I summoned an array of daggers and blades of light to surround and circle me, then lifted into the air and dove for the demon man. In a flash he was gone. I rose to the level of the dark cloud path and lifted my hand and shone a beam of intense light down the cloud path, dissolving it and breaking it up. I did the same in the other direction. Being that I was awake, I moved my hands physically a little as I was doing this, in the fun of the moment.