Chapter X, Reading 4

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Flindra was vaguely aware of a sensation of floating as if she were suspended in a fluid, drifting randomly through space and time. She must not be breathing for she had no sensation of drowning in the fluid. For that matter, she had little sensation of anything. Incoherent images passed through her mind with no thought strong enough to concentrate on. Her consciousness was aimlessly adrift with no memory of what brought her here. It was as if she were slowly becoming nothing in a stagnant and unyielding fluid.

She couldn't even focus her thoughts enough to pray for help from the Spirit. She was incapable of doing anything to change her situation.

Time passed and Flindra drifted deeper into the realm of nothingness. Her consciousness was slowly yielding and the random thoughts were ceasing. Soon there would only be the void.

Through the formless fluid came the vibrations of a disturbance. A vague awareness penetrated her mind and an image slowly took shape and took root in her mind. The picture cleared and became focused.

It was her forest in winter; she recognized it instantly. Flindra rejoiced in the beauty of the familiar scene and forced her awareness on the vision. Her thoughts were becoming increasingly directed for she wanted to see more.

Flindra could see that there was snow on the branches and that a playful breeze was blowing it from the trees. The blowing snow made the forest look as if it was on fire - the snow being the smoke. She could feel the icy stabs of the blowing snow against her face. She breathed deeply. The pungent smell of pine assailed her nostrils. The smell brought an immediate feeling of longing - longing for her home and the simple life of a woodsman's daughter.

In the dream image of her home forest, Flindra started to walk towards the clearing in the forest and the cozy cottage, which was her home. She laughed at the surprise she knew would be on her Momma's face when she threw open the door and walked inside. She could almost smell the fine aroma of freshly baked bread and her mother's wonderful, meaty stew. Laughing felt good. The hopeless, helpless feeling was becoming a vague memory of the past. She would soon be home again.