Wind howled and thunder roared, the earth seemed to fight with the waters that covered it as it shook. The sound of fighting and the wounded and dying filled the air. Steel crashed against something colder and harder, and screams and battle cries could be heard underneath the roar of volcanoes as roiling, red lava spilled down jagged black rock, like blood oozing from the ground. The lone figure of a wolf could be seen watching the battle below from a high cliff. The sun and moon fought for dominance of the sky as the wolf sang her wild and untamed song across the crying field of death. As each note of the wild song reached the ears of those on the field, the fighting ceased and both sides stopped and watched the sky. In between the sun and moon and eerie glow from the dying volcanoes two winged figures could be seen holding each other in a grip tighter than death as they fought for the future of the entire land.


                Melody woke suddenly, thinking herself to be in the bizarre and ravaged landscape of her dreams, but was still wrapped in her ivory silk sheets, in her four-poster bed in the only room on the top floor of her late uncle’s home. The blue silken curtains were still closed, blocking out the predawn gloom that came before the sun lazily rose and chased away the night. Not completely trusting her instincts that she was safely at home, and with the wolf’s song still buzzing through her head, Melody slowly drew back her blankets and walked over to the window, half fearful and half hopeful that her room had somehow managed to get to her dreamland. She threw back the curtains, revealing the sun’s first pink rays weakly shining over the sleepy blue hills. She pressed a hand to her heart, feeling it flutter against her rib cage like a bird. Why had the thought of being in her dreamland excited her so much? It was just a dream, wasn’t it? With a sigh, Melody opened the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony. She sat in the swing that her uncle had built for her. It was woven out of birch and willow branches, looking so fragile, yet strong enough to hold her uncle and Melody at the same time. Melody slowly swung back and forth, comforted by the soft creaking of the wood. The familiar sounds lulled her back to sleep, and the supple branches cradled her body as her eyes closed.

The End

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