Last night I had one of my strange and nonsensical dreams. Often, one can work out where the dream has come from. It may have been a film, a book, a discussion – virtually anything, really.
However, with this one, I have absolutely no idea what I must have been thinking to have had this dream. It was like watching a film. My recollection of the detail, in places, is hazy, but I will try to give you an overview.
There is this band of people, dressed as they would in the 11th to 13th century, but not in the UK, more like Vikings (without the helmets). They were on horseback and included women and children. The band were, perhaps 60 to 100 strong. The men carried the large swords and fur cloaks were worn by all.
They had a plan to get into another world through a portal that they knew existed in a castle towards the top of a mountain. I’m not sure why they were trying to get to this other dimension, but it was important that they got through. They didn’t quite know how it was to be done but they trusted that, when they reached the castle, they would find the portal.
They crossed the hilly country (it was winter so sometimes flakes of snow would fall although there was no snow on the ground). The winds were strong at times.
They reached the castle, which was deserted. They went inside and were sheltered in a line that curved around the walls, perhaps 3 or 4 deep, maybe deeper in parts.
They seemed to be waiting for a way to get to the other world. Suddenly without warning, invisible swords manned by invisible men, also on horseback, slashed into the people on the outside, killing and injuring about 20 people. At the moment that these people were killed, they immediately passed into the other world (but not heaven).
Some others in the group were questioning that, surely, they did not have to be killed to get into the other world. There just had to be another way.
At this point, it all got a bit hazy. They did get into the other world without further killings and they found that the invisible men who had killed some of their number were, in fact, a tribe in the other world who realised that they were trying to get in and were attempting to stop them.
Then it jumped to, more of less, the present day. There was a young boy, a bit of a nerd, really. Perhaps a cross between Harry Potter and his mate, Ron.
Somehow and for some unknown reason, he was able to slip between the two worlds. He found that the first group of people had triumphed against the ‘invisible’ tribe. But they had not aged very much and were only a few years older then when they had transported to the other world. They were a kind and accommodating race.
However, there was some unknown thing that the boy had to do for them. Similar to some sort of quest that needed him to go back and forth. Returning to this world sometimes meant returning to a different time in this world. But it was always the right time for him to achieve whatever the task was.
But then, the boy had to make a decision. He could stay in the other world where he was treated with respect and would have a good life or return to his friends and family in this world. For some reason the decision had to be made because he would be stuck in one or the other and it was his last chance to choose which one he wanted to be in. For him this was a difficult decision. Before he could make it, of course, I woke up.