and man was it a doosey!
and yes. the discusting amount of puntuation errors WERE in my dream. :P
Here's a bit of backstory: When summer rolls around and the huge weight of school is lifted off my shoulders, my mind uses the time it usually would to recover from a day of mental stress, to create rediculasly vivid, and exciting dreams. If I lay perfectly still when I wake from one of these epics, I can usually recall one or two scenes from the dream, and if I start writing immidiatly, I can remember a good portion of it from there. I finally had the time to follow through with it this morning. So here's the dream. This one was pretty straight forward with plenty of political, romantic, heroic, and sentimental value. If it were any more cinimatic, it would have a full symphonic score. enjoy. the box office projections for this one are pretty high.
sleep
Angels of fire...
Never meant for this world...
Nations at war...
I leading one army, she leading the other...
Both of us have been raised to believe the other nation is evil. armies of swordsmen, spears, archers, elephants, siege contraptions and cavalry. The sky is red...The stage is set for the most epic battle of all time. The last of many. And perhaps the end of everything.
the two armies charge at a projected word from their respective leaders.
an evil bishop smiles maliciously as they charge to war...
the fearless prince and the warlike girl charge at the head of their armies, and clash together with blades of steel and skill untold. They begin a dance of death, dealing fatal blows to men around them, and striving in vain to get past each others defenses. a connection begins to form between the two of them. The girl leans in close, stabbing past the prince, into the belly of a warrior wielding a battle axe. as the man falls, screaming, to the torn ground, the prince recalls a scene from his child hood. A flash of green. the woods. and a girls hand, intertwined with his own. He is torn back into the present as the girl slashes at his shirt, tearing a long gash in the fabric from shoulder to hip. had she meant harm, the blow would have slain him then and there. The girl laughs as the prince whirls around and takes out a charging soldier that was about to take a swipe at the her, before dancing back and resuming the deadly waltz. once again the prince's memory strays back to a time long past, triggered by the warrior girls' laughter. He remembers the bishops angry voice.
"I have told you time and again not to venture into the woods! Now you are found by scouts, interacting with the woodland kingdom! their princess no less! They are our sworn enemys! "
The girl swings in a massive horizontal arc, giving him time to duck down. he lashes the blade forward and cuts a rift down the back of her battle gown as she whirls around with the momentum of her swing. They move together, swords whirring around them, slaying any who venture too close. the blades clash in rhythmic patterns as they both remember their old friendship, a secret endeavor of young royalty of warring nations, born of restlessness and confinement. and realize now, a new passion within them. with an upward slash, the girl severs the front of the princes shirt entirely. it now hangs loosely from one shoulder. a tattered banner. he swings his sword up into the air, then slams it forcefully into the ground, where it stands, quivering as the girl brings her blade up above her head for a killing blow. Both warriors stand, inches apart, chests heaving for breath. the girls sword poised to kill, the boy's arms at his sides; defenseless should she bring down her killing blade. as she stares into the his eyes, she slowly brings down her hands, past his head and onto his shoulders. the blade clatters to the ground behind him. And their lips touch. The warrior prince brings his hands up to the girls waist and the two kiss passionately as screaming men die around them in macabre harmony with the clash of steel and the moan of elephants and screams of horses meeting their demise of the fields of the slain.
A bishops face fills with anger and a shadow of hatred and jealousy crosses his aged features...
the fighting begins to grind to a halt. starting with the skirmishes directly adjacent to the two leaders. soon, a deathly silence fills the dusty air, broken periodically by the moans of dying soldiers. The warrior girl and the prince stand side by side, hands intertwined as they had been years ago, out of memory. Now they stand again. a sole alliance in the midst of a brutal war. A gnarled old man shoves his way through the ranks of awestruck soldiers, his flawless white cloak, untouched by battle. He has been standing at the back, watching the carnage unfold. And now...this...this...
"Blasphemy!" he bellows.
he turns his back on the couple, facing the battered ranks of soldiers.
"Blasphemy! These two have deceived you from the beginning! leading you through hellish battles! promising the end after this last fight. and now. NOW! after all is done, after all your comrades are slain! They betray you all! Traitors must burn as they will for all eternity! to the pit!"
two warring armies unite against their common enemy. A new leader has risen from the ashes to do justice to the first evil of this shining era of peace. And so, Forbidden love shall burn as a sacrifice for peace.
pit
The guards have been chosen to lead the doomed down the tunnel, and off the ledge into the pit of fire.
from the end of the blistering corridor, the prince shouts up to the evil bishop. His words distorted by the sporadic roaring of the flames below the ledge.
"Mentor!...father!...It is you who have deceived all of us! You lead me to believe these people were evil, when it was your own, evil warmongering soul who brought us all to this end! Now we find a chance for peace, and you take on the role of king in this new era. Your plan was flawless from the start, flawless in perfect corruption. You wanted violence...well you shall have it!"
The prince lunges at a soldier, grabbing him by the face and slamming his head into the tunnle wall. as the man crumples to the searing floor, the prince pounces at the next man. The warrior girl rushes a soldier and shoves him into the inferno. at the top of the corridor, the bishop watches as his pawns perish one by one, from the two warrior's violent rush, and from the heat of the tunnel. soon the two are alone, surrounded by the growing roar of the rising fire, and the bodies of the royal guard.
The prince falls to his knees. reaching toward the girl as she collapses onto the burning floor. he drags himself over to her prone form. and gazes into her eyes as his skin catches fire. the pain fades to nothingness as she looks back at him. The flame engulfs them both.
wake