Yggdrasil Fallen: Obsidian
Interlude: Origins
When snuggled in your cozy bed; be it at night during the day or whenever you find time to rest your head. When sleep finally claims your weary soul, ushering you down, deep into its clutches where your weary soul can finally achieve solace, even for the briefest of time. Have you ever found yourself locked into a different reality? Of course, everyone dreams at some point in time. These dreams we all experience, some nightly, some much more infrequently herald the experiences of our days, blended with the deepest parts of our minds. But have you ever experienced a dream so deep, so real that when you wake you cant be entirely sure you are actually awake? I have.
These Yggdrasil Fallen Chronicles are just that: a retelling of alternate realities, an existence that I have lived in/through in such a “dreamstate”. Everything told thus far, and everything to be written in times to come are exactly that: a retelling, a “sharing” of this hyper-realistic, indistinguishable reality I experience on a near nightly basis. Every character, every interaction, every occurrence is shared as they have occurred. One could almost say this story is a memoire, the story of a self that exists in a world buried deep, deep in my mind. Or, perchance… one could argue that this is more than just that, more than a dream. How many out there, reading this story… this “origins” could share their tales of waking with the residual pains of battles experienced traversing their dream-realms? (for note, this isn’t a cryptic ambiguous question, I am actually quite curious about the experiences of others.)
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Regardless. As this story progresses, dear readers, please know that everything written is experience spanning nigh 30 years. I have taken liberty in chapters to come to leave some things out, personal things, as some “experiences” are not meant to be shared. I know, that at some point in time, some readers will call “bullshit”, or “how is it possible to remember such finite details after so long”. My answer to that: Does it matter? Perspective is objective and even those with the best memories cannot remember everything exactly what was said, nor how it was said. Hell, For all you know, this “origins” is just a cryptic interlude written to mess with the minds of those who have been following along. Who knows? I do. And ill tell you, the feeling of having your arm savagely torn from your body by a 4-armed hellsnake-naga looking bitch is not something you forget. Nor is the feeling of hot ash wrapping your bicep to brand itself upon your spine something that fades with time.
Dear readers, I write this tale at the urging of my wife. A wonderful woman who has tolerated me far longer than I thought possible. A woman who sat by, listening to the morning tales of the nightly adventures, thirsting to know what happened and how things progressed in that 3-8 hours “reprieve”. Often times nursing the phantom pains still resonating from those experiences; be it muscle fatigue, or the ripping pain of having been rent in 2. Do know, that while time flows differently in that state, months often occurring in a single nights rest, each occurrence flows from one into another, much like going to bed at night and waking in the morning: we pick up from where we left off upon entering our “restful” periods; our stories never really breaking their flow. Thus is how the realities of “Yggdrasil Fallen” have flowed: falling asleep in this reality and waking in another, to experience whatever is to come there and return here. A cycle I anticipate continuing to my end of days. Crazy right? Thus is my tale, and the tale of Andre, Jeff, Curt and all those they may encounter.
Stay well readers. Be safe, take care of yourselves and may your roads be blessed until we meet again.