This is the story of a girl called Astrid, and it starts with a prophecy.
A prophecy of a life that is not hers but one that will be forced upon her nonetheless.But prophecy are always up to those you believed them, and Astrid didn't think further o...
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I feel as though I am floating.
My mind a tangle of dreams and thoughts.
They float around me like we are on a river of consciousness, where reality bends and melds with the ethereal. I am both a passenger and an observer of this river as it weaves through the diverse landscapes of my psyche.
An odd sensation engulfs me, one where I am untouched by the constraints of physicality.
Each thought, each dream seems to gleam and shimmer beneath the surface like a brightly polished stone, refracting the light of my inner self in a myriad of ways.
In this boundless realm, time loses its meaning and the ebbs and flows of this cerebral river dictate my reality.
I am submerged yet not drowned; in the depths of this river, I find solace rather than fear. I drift along, embracing the tranquility and uncertainty intertwined.
The flow of this river of introspection is gentle but unending, much like time itself. Strangely enough, I find profound truth in its inconsistency.
A dream, radiant and bold, dances beneath the surface, teasing the edges of my consciousness with its enticing allure.
And when I reach, I dive head first into it as I need to know more.
The dream pulls me under in a rapturous embrace, immersing me completely. I surrender to its depth, its fluid grace and glistening allure. It's like stepping into another world; a world where my thoughts transfigure into tangible entities that swirl around me like starlings against the twilight sky.
I am standing in the clearing of my previous dream where the giant wolves stand before me.
Except this time, they seem to already know who I am.
They regard me with a knowing gaze, their eyes filled with an intelligence and wisdom far beyond their beastly exterior. The pitch black wolf steps forward, his aura regal and commanding.
His eyes lock onto mine, a silent understanding passing as this time he sticks his head under my hand, inviting me to touch the coarse fur that cloaks his powerful form. I find my hand moving on its own accord, feeling the warmth of his solid frame beneath the plush black coat.
His eyes never leave mine.
Soon the snow white wolf joins us, sticking her head another my other head with a trustful submission. I extend my other hand and as it sinks into her lush, white coat, an electrifying connection vibrates through us. A shared cognizance of our place in this ethereal realm.
Once again the sun and moon spin through out the sky like a malfunctioning clock.
The sky shifts from the blush hues of dawn to the fiery canvas of sunset, and then to the inky black vastness studded with stars, all within the span of a heartbeat.
