I will try to remember as much as possible about the dream I had last night and describe it with detail.
I was standing in a sandy arena. Other soldier were lined up on either side of me. A king sat at one end, towards my left. A ceremony was taking place in his honor. The setting seemed to be Medieval from the looks of clothing and armor. I was among the knights and warriors there to protect and serve the king.
The festivities continued as planned. The king ordered us to march in the arena. Men dressed in bright colors were probably clowns and performers. As the king became drunk, he ordered them to join our ranks and march too. He and the audience laughed and enjoyed themselves.
Until the situation changed. Spectators began to scream and scatter. Enemy soldiers rushed into the arena. They were clearly after the king, but we were alert and prepared. Swords were out in seconds and fighting erupted.
I was right in the middle of it, unafraid. Swords clashed and rang as soldiers grunted and yelled. The arena was also becoming dark. Late afternoon was upon us. Night was approaching, and there was a lot of dust in the air. I fought well. A couple enemies were quickly cut down. More took their place. I parried, spun, and killed another. I grappled with one soldier, threw him to the ground, and finished him.
As I stood and looked for my next opponent, a sword stabbed my chest. With one hand, I held the blade, preventing my attacker from pulling it away. With my sword in the other hand, I fought on fiercely. Soon, after two or three cuts, my foe was down. But I was bleeding, weakened, and stumbling.
I think it was also at this point that I started to feel the wolf within calling to me. My hand was still gripping the sword protruding from my chest. I gritted my teeth, pulled, and the blade slowly emerged, slick with blood. The pain buckled my knees. I fell back. The swords, released from my limp hands, landed beside me.
I remember feeling very much like a wolf during the dream, almost as if I was transformed. A wolf might have also come to watch over me. This most likely happened as I lay on the ground in pain, feeling my breaths get slow and labored as I died.
I saw the fight continue, but it was almost over. There were very few soldiers remaining. The arena was must darker. I felt sand under my cheek and hands. Dead bodies were all around me. As my eyes closed, the feeling of being a wolf was the strongest. I think it is the wolf spirit that would not give up or die. My life was not meant to end there.
I don't know how long I slept or was unconscious. Perhaps it was for centuries. As I opened my eyes, I found myself in a modern setting. To be more specific, I was on the floor of my grandmother's house. I was still in some pain. Slowly, I moved stiff, aching muscles and sat up. A sword was also on the floor, within reach. It frightened me. I looked down at my shirt. There was no blood or hole in the fabric. But when I stretched the collar down, a healing white scar was on my chest.
I carefully stood. I heard my grandmother coming into the house, snatched up the sword, and found a place to hide it. The dream ended there.
The pain and being stabbed had seemed very realistic. Upon waking, I did look at my chest. No white scar, but there is a red rash where one had not been yesterday. Maybe I was bitten by a mosquitoe or something in the night as I slept, causing my mind to fabricate my death. Or maybe it's something more. The mind is powerful, and sometimes what we imagine does have small physical effects on the body. Of course, I can't know for sure. I just try to think of multiple possibilities.
I do believe that this dream is a sign of the strong wolf spirit within. Even when our physical bodies die, the soul remains.
"There is no death. Only a change of worlds." - Chief Seattle, Dwamish Tribe
Aubrey Wolf Daughter
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