My dream diary Lore Books

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A diary of dreams of Otto von Bergow.

Text

Diary of Dreams
to Otto from Henry of Rosenberg

March 14th
I stand alone on a hill with fallen knights lying around me. A storm is coming. The ravens are coming. One of them sits on my sword stuck in the ground. I try to get to it, but I can’t take a step. I fall to my knees. And then it’s dark.

March 17th
I’m walking down a dark corridor. Somewhere in the distance ahead of me, something shimmers. I don’t know what it is, but I feel I must reach it. I’m getting closer. Closer and closer, until I can vaguely make out what I’m looking at…
The St. Wenceslas’ Crown! It’s so beautiful. And so close… I could reach it…
I’m not walking, I’m running. I reach out my hand. I can already feel the golden coolness of the crown with my fingertips. But suddenly a fox leaps in front of me, clutching a small bird in its mouth. A little kingfisher, trying in vain to get out!
The fox sits down in front of the crown and refuses to let me near it.

May 5th
I walk around Trosky while a great banquet is going on in the great hall. Dozens of nobles and noble ladies. Many of them are now dead, but in my dream they sit drinking wine and rejoicing with the living.
Suddenly time stops. They all freeze like stone statues. The wine being poured stops in mid-air. The only thing that moves is me. I should be confused, maybe even scared, but I’m not. I feel like I can do anything.
I walk among the nobles and noble ladies. I take whatever I want. I touch whatever I want… I know they’ll never come out of their stupor.

May 10th
The dream with the crown comes back to me again. I haven’t dreamt anything else for three nights now. Nothing helps.

May 26th
I’m standing in front of a huge mirror, looking at my wrinkles. I see how I’ve aged. Every redness of my skin. I feel every hair that falls out…
But suddenly the reflection changes. The mirror ripples like the surface of water and I see myself in it young and vibrant again. I can’t believe it. I look around. I strip naked, trying to find something to destroy the illusion of youth, but it’s perfect. Not a wrinkle anywhere.
I can’t stand the view. I’m filled with rage. I lunge for my reflection. My hands pass through the mirror and tighten around my young neck. I’m choking, but my young self doesn’t notice. Instead, I lose my own breath until I finally fall to the floor.