"Please, Find Me"
Sobs torn from the wounded. Moans, falling into silence, from the dying. Humanoid screaming form the terrified stallions. My own cries unwillingly adding to the cacophony. The ground rushing up to meet me and my right foot twisting and catching in the stirrup. The pulse of my heart, strong with adrenaline, pumping out my life blood. The jarring agony as my wonderful mount Whinnfarrrow miraculously drags me across the Pellenor Fields. The clamor of anxious voices murmuring over me and one piping high in my ears sounding strangely more distraught than the others. An unusual slickness spreading over me and seeping soothingly into my open sounds. A disturbing heat creeping ever nearer. A strange pounding as of stone on stone and a small presence heaving at my side. There is a violent twist and my scarce breath is knocked out of me. This jolt forces my eyes open just long enough to discern a familiar figure wreathed in flame before I succumb to a new level of darkness.
-:-
I am lost. The emptiness around me is slowly taken over by a fog-like darkness. Wherever this mist, curling and writhing, touches my skin, I am chilled. But I welcome this cold, for it brings with it relief. Relief from the pain, physical and emotional, that has haunted me for years. I am about to give in to this sweet succor when I hear a voice, strong, warm, and authoritative, rip through the darkness. It calls me by name and I must answer. I long to answer, for the warmth it holds releases a flood of dreams and wishes I had almost forgotten. I try to call out, but I can barely manage a weak and pitiful "Find me." The darkness now clings to me. It is no longer gentle; it is demanding, pulling me with it, trying to retreat back to abyss from whence it came. However, I will have none of it any longer. I struggle and thrash about in its bonds. Each time the great voice speaks, another black strand is thrown free. At last, I am utterly free and my eyes are slowly opened. I focus on a man bending over me with concern, exhaustion, and relief etched into his features. How can I help but recognize the one whose voice found me? My cracked lips part, and I breathe out, just loudly enough for the whole room to hear, "My lord, you have called me. I am come. What does the King command?" I was more than satisfied with his reply of "Rest, and be ready when I return."