During the few hours of sleep I had, I dreamt again of the woman dressed in elegant black Victorian attire, but this time, I could see her face clearly. It was unmistakably Carmilla.
"I've been dreaming of her all this time, and I never noticed."
This time, in the dream, I also saw a man, elegantly dressed with black hair and a pale face. His black eyes were the same as Carmilla's the first time we met.
"Is he her father?" I wondered. "No, they don't resemble each other at all, just typical vampire features."
That man was always seated in a kind of armchair or throne, holding what looked like a wine glass. In front of him, there was a table with a chessboard, and behind him, the silhouette of a woman or a feminine-looking being with small horns could be seen.
"Nah, not wine, it's probably blood. Eww."
But the creepiest part of it all was the book that man had by his side. It seemed to be made of exotic leather, displaying indecipherable letters, faces, and eyes. Just imagining it, I could feel a very dark force emanating from that book.
"Get up, sleepyhead! Training day!" My grandmother Flora smacks the edge of my bed, giving me a tremendous scare and making me fall to the floor.
"God! Could you announce before entering?" I complained. She simply laughed and said that breakfast was ready.
I went downstairs, and the bread was ready. My mother had baked artisan bread, and my father enjoyed his coffee with a slice of bread, while she sat next to him, playing with his beard.
My "young" grandmother was lying on the couch, boots resting on the table, watching TV. I sat down to eat. I took a large bowl of milk, and the bread was exquisite.
Both my mother's bread and the one Millaray had given me were very good, so I ate from both.
"Leave some for me; I haven't tried that one!" My father complained.
"Your son needs to eat, Clemente; he'll have a very active metabolism. Isn't that right, Miguel?" My mother said, smiling.
My father just took one piece of bread to save it and left the rest to me. I had never noticed how romantically my parents looked at each other, and my mother seemed to be a genuinely affectionate person.
After devouring everything and finishing the bowl of milk, I went with my grandmother to the forest. She carried a bow and arrows, and I also noticed that she had a couple of sticks carved into sword shapes; she had been doing that all night.
"Let's go hunting! Follow me!" said my grandmother Flora.
She darted off at lightning speed, and I tried to keep up. She was fast, agile, moving like a deer or a gazelle. We stopped in front of what looked like rabbits. She took out her bow, like an arrow, and told me.
"Close your eyes and feel the wind, become one with nature... let yourself be guided by your intuition, feel the call."
I closed my eyes, and she scolded me, saying, "No, silly! Look at me first!"
"Oops, sorry," I said.
I observed her as she closed her eyes, letting the wind play with her red hair. The rabbit had already been alerted and seemed to be running away quickly. Before I could warn her, Freya released the arrow, hitting the moving hare accurately without even opening her eyes.
"Wow. How did you do that?" I asked.
"Your mother and I have a special connection with nature; she whispers to us and guides us. You probably have it too; you just have to awaken it. Once you harmonize, both in peace and during battle, you'll flow like a river, naturally."
YOU ARE READING
The Red Rose
FantasySynopsis: After the events in "The Mistletoe", Miguel finds himself back in a present where supernatural phenomena begin to manifest themselves with increasing intensity. As he unravels more layers of his origins and his position in the world, a new...