Secret Desire

 



Ulrich could barely hear the druid's calm voice. It was as if she was receding into the distance. "...in through the nose...and out through the mouth."

He breathed deeply, following the druid's direction.

"You are in the forest. It is dappled in spring colors..."

He remembered a lovely spring day when he was young. He pictured himself as a young man, roaming the deep, ancient forests of his homeland. No cares or worries. Young, hale, vigorous.

"A thing you seek, your secret desire, is on the trail ahead of you..."

Ulrich saw a deer on the trail. It turned to look at him, and as it did, it transformed into a woman in a white dress. She smiled and walked over a small ridge, beckoning him to follow.

He trotted after, but when he reached the top, he saw a sword jammed into the ground with an old skull nearby. The wind shifted, bringing a chill and the dank smell of a cave.

"You reach your secret desire and look at it closely. Take your time. There is no hurry."

In his mind, he looked at the skull, then the sword. It was his father's sword, and his father's before him. The runes of his family were carved on a red stone set below the crossguard.

Many times as a child he had seen it hung above the stone fireplace or carried on his father's hip.

"You may take it, if you want."

Ulrich looked closely at the sword and the skull, knowing now that both were from his father. Power and death. Glory, then nothing. He seemed to feel the world turning, the seasons changing, the endless cycle that whirls without meaning.

He walked away. His desire was somewhere else.



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