Post date: Feb 06, 2009 8:57:28 PM
My companions seem to have found their way out of whatever predicament they had gotten themselves into. I watched them enter this thorp of gnomes, the dwellers of which gave them a very warm welcome; even the kobolds, it would seem. Upstream, in the valley this thorp is in, is an impressive water fall that looks like the head and crown of some ancient sovereign. My companions seem quite interested in that place. I watched as Master Chicdell entertained the gnomes and when I could not keep my eyes open any longer drifted off to sleep. I had the most pleasant dream I can recall in almost two decades.
* * *
I am at my family's estate having just cut a bouquet of flowers from our envied gardens and entering the manor to place it in a vase in the parlor. As I pass the mirror in the hall, I stop short facing the countenance in the glass of a middle-aged, but exquisitely beautiful woman smiling back at me. I must be dreaming about my grandmother, as this person in the mirror greatly resembles her. I hear the gleeful cheers of children outside in the garden, which startles me out of my reverie and driven by some urgent need to complete my task, hurry into the parlor to find a vase prepared to accept its new bouquet. Glancing out the window, I see a carriage with the Chicdell coat-of-arms emblazoned on it from which two noblemen disembark. One resembles my father and the other man seems familiar, but obviously of some importance as he is afforded the lead onto the walk leading to the manor and father follows.
I move to the entryway where a child is excitedly entering the manor, while two others greet the nobles outside.
The child squeals, "Mother, mother! Uncle Eregard is here. Look! He comes with the Viscount."
The two men enter, children clinging to their legs, but smiles prevail.
The Viscount, now that I see him up close, is an older, wiser Oliveryn who with a flourishing sweep of his hat, bows and greets me.
"Good afternoon, Lady Artural. It is a pleasure to see you again," and hands his hat and cloak to the butler standing at the door, takes my hand and kisses it.
It strikes me suddenly that father is not father at all, but an older, more distinguished Eregard, Oliveryn's cohort. He bows as well, handing his hat and cloak to the butler as well.
"Cel, my dear, it is good to be back. Astor says he will be along shortly. He had an order to sign before finishing up for the day. So, how are my niece and nephews doing today," as Eregard picks up the small boy bouncing about between them.
I find myself responding, "They are angels as always, dear cousin."
As I pat the head of the girl adoringly looking up into my eyes, I see the distinctive ring that I was given by Isildul and suddenly realize that the face in the mirror was not that of my grandmother, but of myself restored to my former beauty.
* * *
I awoke exhilarated and my mind spinning standing suddenly before the scrying glass. Could this be my future? Is there a way to restore so much that was lost? My mind must be playing cruel tricks on my. There is no achieving that. Not at all.