Nightmare or Portent?

[Sherazade]

Alastryne Nealcail was swimming in black water, strong smooth strokes. The moon hung huge and shining, making a silver pathway on the lake. There was a black fringe of trees reaching like the borken teeth of some monster to tear at the flesh of the sky. She was almost to shore for now those trees loomed larger. The clash of steel upon steel the screams of the dead and dying rang in her ears. In her dream her eyes were squeezed shut and with such action the sounds of battle faded. Lying back in the water she gazed up at the sky at the moon. Shimmering flowing like water the moon changed shape became a great silver swan the symbol of the kingdom she had fled
Red, the colour of blood, of death, betrayal darted sliced across the swans breast and it fell screaming from the sky. Scarlett droplets splattered upward in a deadly shower as the swan fell into the lake.. It was then Alastryne knew why the water was so black, why it was so warm, it was blood she was swimming in a lake of fresh warm blood.

A scream of fear, denial tore from her throat shattered the stillness of the night as she awoke drenched in cold clinging sweat. Nightmare fresh in her mind she stirred the fires dying embers to life again. She would laugh would scoff at any who told her it was a portent of things to come but even so her gaze turned to the west towards her home and hersoul whispered a ferverant hope it was truly naught but a nightmare.

And all around her the shadows of the forest closed in grew longer forcing her closer to the fires warmth its light she would sleep no more this night

[Sherazade]

It had been a month since the the nightmare of swimming in the blood filled lake. And a nightmare was all it was, at least that is what Alastryne kept telling herself, ferverently hoping if it did so often enough for long enough she would come to believe it.

Callused palm smoothed the folds in her coat with the season turning more towards spring it was becomming to risky to wear. It was a pity that something she had always worn with such pride as the queens bodygaurd was now a danger to her leading to being more easily discovered. Carefully she laid the coat into the chest. gaze lifting from its forest green folds to the flickering flames of the fire.

As if in a trance she reached out fingers brushing the silver swan brooch..... It was like touching icy and she gasped in shock unable to draw her fingers from it. Her gaze was riveted upon the fire now as within shimmering flames a vision was being given birth.

Within the flames heart it was dark a swirling mass of shadows only a pinpoint of light flickering in the shadows very center. Slowly that pinpoint grew and within she saw a room as familiar to her as her own face. It was the kings study where he recieved those who were granted a private audience, The simpleness of the carved wooden furniture turned to elegance by the bright tapestries of the wall and the fur rugs upon the floor.

"Sire" came the voice of his advisor cause the scene to ripple shift showing both mens faces. hair whatever the true shade rendered in the hues of flame

"No I wont' hear it, I will not believe she would not take a hand in her own sisters death nor her nephews. Your source is either lying or mistaken "

It was then the advisors face loomed large in the vision *he still looks like a weasel* the thought turned idily in Alastrynes mind but she did not dwell upon it h er energy was turned towards the vision she knew they were speaking about her.

"I do not believe she did either, Sire but should you not find her ask her face to face"

"perhaps you are right" those words spilled from the sires mouth even as his gaze turned away from his advisor. He did not see the smirk of trimuph the glimmer of dark glee within those weasely eyes. But Alastryne did she saw it all "what are you up to weasel what are you planning" those words fell from her own lips and her hand left the brooch . The vison blurred then became flame once more Heedless of the fact her hand curled around her dagger its blade resting in the palm of her other "whatever your up to you won't succeed i swear it" As she spoke Alastryne drew the blade across her palm .

Blood welled dripped from closed fist to the floorboards the sound hynpnotic catapaulted her into another vision. Once again she was swimming in the bloodfilled lake watching the swan plummet from the sky... only this time the swam wore the kings crown. "you won't succeed" She repeated her body trembling.

Dimly she was aware of Lady Nelicqueles quiet footsteps crossing the floor of a warm mug of sweet tea being placed before her. Gentle fingers taking her bleeding one into their grip and gently bandaging it............ "you will not succeed" thrice she had said such and in doing so she made it a binding vow........