Introduction to the ‘Visions From the Night Series’

Gentle one, do tell of these dreams of times long gone,
Of castle turrets, princesses, and winged foes rising from the mists.
These mists of long ago in the time before thoughts or even mind existed,
So long ago.
Do tell the story of the middling way of the valley of Gauladal between the great rivers where the mighty oaks of Odin once grew,
Where the maid children were split asunder and made his ravens,
Where the lads were made his wolves in their blood.
Oh fair one, remember that under that tree was an enchanted garden filled with magical roses where the fairies danced and trilled.
In the deep and darkest night of your soul you will remember and not tremble or fear anymore at the remembrance from the time before time.
Now do not believe these fairies are the fae we all know thanks to Disney and the story tellers amongst us.
For these are the immortal, elemental fairies of long ago that none dare cross or disturb lest their cursed shadow fall upon you and destroy you and destroy your life, your wealth, and your health. For they will crush you mere human if you are not careful. Lest the smoke of their black fire rise up from them and strike you down in the prime of your life.
Lest they covet you or you rouse their envy. Tis best they never notice you and you tiptoe away as silently as you came
or even more silently.
Anyway, with in the middling part of the Valley Gauladal where the gods once trod — the very gods that we all forgot in those aforementioned mists of time so long ago…
In that mittling way dwells the elemental fairies and their ilk waiting for us to remember them,
waiting for another day,
waiting to return.
But sometimes in the night
in the darkest parts of our minds they stir and demand our recollections from deep within our psyches,
from when we lived beside them lifetimes ago–
So far past that we can barely remember.
They creep ever so quietly into our bedrooms and stare upon our sleeping forms in the night and wonder how we could ever have forgotten them from so long ago in the lost age of dragons and gods.
They descended from the heights of the fjords,
and traversed to the mountainous passes of Scotland,
and rode the waves across the sea, and crossed a continent to reach the plains of the New world so that they might reach us.
They remind us of when we walked beside them and pledged never to forget them or our friendship for all time and across all boundaries
even when we returned to the stars.
So they try to prod us to make us remember. They stir us to remember the age of heroes, gods, Viking, and Princes of the Church. From here we will commence a journey to find where it all began. To remember when we were cast down from the heavens above to dwell in these dusty bodies,
to be molded into jars of clay. When the gods bent down to take our hands and joined us for a spell.
So began the most amazing story, or at least an interesting tale to pass a winter evening.