I survived the terror of my recent dreams. Whatever is behind me is done. That horror has past, and it must be forgotten. My dream has evolved into something new and glorious. It is like I am being rewarded for what I have gone through. I was losing faith in my abilities and the power of the mantra, but last night’s vision proved me wrong. I first became aware of the frigid water of the grey waves upon the dull bank. I stand among my kinsmen, five noble warriors, looking out on the hostile river. Behind us, the wind howls through our fields of wheat, rallying to join us. This is our homeland, and we have gathered our spears to ward off these sea-wanderers. Our valiant Ealdorman stands before us, defiant, ready for the onslaught of wicked men. I am shaking, not from fear, but in anticipation of the coming battle, my chance at glory. Their ships draw ever closer, and we see their cruel faces, sneering at us behind tusked helmets. As their feet fall for the first time on our native shores, a great cry rises and we surge forward, into history.
