Old Religion

Chapter 5

A/N

Confession: I have been terrible at updating.

So thank you for your patience. As a small apology, I gift you an early chapter five sneak peak. 

Aline

The place was desolate and the weather was dark and low, the only sound that echoed was the laugh of a crow.

I woke up with a start. A nauseating feeling in my stomach. A bone curling pounding in my head. I threw the covers off my body and rolled myself so my head was hanging out of the bed. I wanted to throw up, but I didn't. I never did. I tightly closed my eyes until I could get my feelings under control. I breathed in and out, trying to calm my beating heart and placate the rising contents of my stomach. Once they had resided, I rolled myself back into bed and letting my body relax into the mattress, I stared at the ceiling.

The nightmares left me feeling so sick, so consumed. My energy depleted and my spirits drained. They had this ethereal quality that had my brain scrambling to make sense of them. They occurred in a place similar to our world, but everything adjusted according to your will, to your thoughts and emotions.

The trees, they had shifted into every possible strain of tree, they were pines, willows and oaks at the same time. They were the idea of a tree, therefore every tree at once. That was the same case for every object, every flower, every stream, every cloud. It looked like I had a very bad case of astigmatism. Leaving my brain reeling, pining for steadiness. Strained.

Nanna had explained. I had confided in her after my second nightmare, afraid I was loosing my mind. She had phrased the feeling into words so lucidly, like a simple explanation of an everyday occurrence. She taught me not to fear. I don't know what I would have done without her.

My mother was gone because of me.

My father and brothers didn't resent me for it. Well, at least I knew my brother's didn't, my father tried to hide it. Sometimes I could see it in his eyes, he missed her, and I was her spitting image. But Nanna, my sibling's nurse maid, had swept in and raised us, undertook the mother figure and took it upon herself to whack some sense into our brains. My father threw himself into work and let himself be seen in very few occations.

She explained that what I was experiencing was the other side of the vail, the intelligible world. She revealed that she recognized my ability when I was very young, and she prayed every day that it would not develop further. But my connection with the other side was strong. She could sometimes see the string tethering my soul across the vail, and it was thick and entwined, sturdier than any other she had seen. If these where the old days, I was bound to be a druid.

Unable to stay in bed any longer I carefully stepped out of it and made my way towards the back of my room. I had a ceiling to floor dark wood bookshelf that spanned the whole back wall; and an intricately carved desk in the middle breaming with half read books, crumpled written pages and writing utensils. Taking my desk's chair I placed it against the bookshelf and stepped onto it to reach the topmost shelf. Silently patting my way through the darkness, I found what I was looking for.

Well hidden behind the history books were three beautifully bound journals. I had finished reading the first one, clearly labeled by the 'I' in the front cover. It was written in clear decisive print and neatly dated, but the information was of absolutely no use. A recount of political decisions and important events that did not offer the insight I was looking for. Its purpose, I guess, was for the following ruler to read and learn from the decisions of the previous, and also to serve for future reference. I hoped the second one could be more enlightening.

Taking out the journal labeled 'II' with golden letters, I made my way back to my bed, returning the chair to its original spot on the way. Lighting my bedside candle I settled into a comfortable reading position and began.