The Child Dreamer:
A Dead Dreamer Prequel
The first thing I remembered feeling, was the ᚲᛟᛚᛞ. Water rushed all around me, causing my skin to rise. Even ᛇᛖᚨᚱᛋ later, I could still feel the ᚲᚺᛁᛚᛚ deep down. Always keeping me from truly feeling comfortable. Despite the ᛒᚢᚱᛝᛁᛝᚷ rage that grew within me, it still lingered.
As any child would, I wandered back to the village to search for my ᚠᚨᛏᚺᛖᚱ. My father. The man who hated me. The man who blamed me for the ᛞᛖᚨᛏᚺ of his wife, my ᛗᛟᛏᚺᛖᚱ. I always felt his hatred, but despite that, I still tried to make him happy. Every ᛋᛟᛝ wanted to make his father proud. But instead of feeling his pride, I felt his rage; that need for ᚱᛖᚹᛖᛝᚷᛖ. So that night, he held me under, and ᛏᛟᛟᚲ ᛁᛏ.
There was one thing he didn’t count on. His ᛞᛖᚨᛞ son walking through the square, searching for him. He was ᛋᚢᚱᛈᚱᛁᛋᛖᛞ enough to see me that day. Even across the square, I could see the sweat fall down his crooked nose. ᛏᚺᛖ ᚠᛖᚨᚱ in his eyes as he ᚱᚨᛝ ᚨᚹᚨᛇ, while I stumbled after.
The local ᛒᛚᚨᚲᚲᛋᛗᛁᛏᚺ found me that day. He took me in. The whole village had known of my circumstance and found me pitiful. Though he didn’t know what my ᚠᚨᛏᚺᛖᚱ had attempted, the ᛒᛁᚨᚲᚲᛋᛗᛁᛏᚺ took me home with him. His wife helped me get clean and gave me a bowl of broth to warm my ᛒᛟᛝᛖᛋ. They laid a blanket on the floor, close to the ᚠᛁᚱᛖ, to sleep until they figured out something better. I had fallen asleep, watching the ᚠᛁᚱᛖᛋ devour the wood.
When I awoke, I was standing naked inside my ᚠᚨᛏᚺᛖᚱᛋ kitchen. He saw me and screamed. He began to mumble incoherently and tears fell as he backed away. It wasn’t because he was happy to see his son. The tears ᛒᛚᛖᛞ into his beard as he cried, praying to ᚷᛟᛞ to forgive him. To not punish him further. To him, I was merely a ghost of his ᛋᚺᚨᛗᛖ. ᛋᚺᚨᛗᛖ of the abuse, the drinking, and the murder.
That ᛝᛁᚷᚺᛏ he grabbed the rope he used to lead the horses and walked to the barn. Climbing to the top level, the rope was tied around the beams, and into a ring. That night, he took his last steps. As he did, a ᛋᚺᚨᛞᛟᚹ flew from his back, into the night outside the barn.
His body jerked violently. I should have looked away, but I couldn’t. My ᚠᚨᛏᚺᛖᚱ had blamed everything on me and took it out on me. This time, he took it out on himself. His ᛋᛈᛁᚱᛁᛏ fell to the ground, the mark of the rope still on his neck. When his eyes met mine, they surprised me. ᛈᛁᛏᛇ. The ᛋᚺᚨᛗᛖ now gone. Only pity for the poor ᛞᛖᚨᛞ child.
Before anything could be said, a beautiful woman with ᛖᛗᛒᛖᚱ hair stepped out of the ᛋᚺᚨᛞᛟᚹᛋ. She walked over to me first and ᚲᛁᛋᛋᛖᛞ my forehead, ᚨᛈᛟᛚᛟᚷᛁᛉᛁᛝᚷ for not reaching me in time. But I was told not to worry, for my father would be given another chance to try again. He would get his chance to redo life again, after his time in punishment.
When there was nothing more to be said, she walked over to my ᚠᚨᛏᚺᛖᚱ. He looked at her with a warm smile, one I had never seen before. She touched his shoulder and led him to a puddle on the other side of the barn. And then, they ᚹᚨᛝᛁᛋᚺᛖᛞ.
The ᛏᛖᚨᚱᛋ never fell. Instead, anger burned inside of me. She was giving my ᚠᚨᛏᚺᛖᚱ another chance. But that didn’t fix this ᛚᛁᚠᛖ. The ᚨᛝᚷᛖᚱ and hatred that burned sparked. And the barn fell. Suddenly, I awoke to the dying embers in the ᛞᛁᚨᚲᚲᛋᛖᛁᛏᚺᛋ home.