Kodlak's Dream

She was just as I had seen her in my dreams.

In the dream, I was at the steps of Sovengarde, trapped in the mist without any hope of getting inside. Tsun beckoned to me, but I could not come. The beast inside was holding me back.

Then Tsun pointed. I turned and there she was, walking slowly through the mist, her blue eyes shining bright as flame as her blonde hair slapped across them. She came to me and slowly drew her sword, then it happened: the beast inside me fought its way out.

The dream always ended when she killed the beast. And I would always awake, shaking and drenched in sweat.

Now, the same stranger approaches in the very hall I call home. She is as young and beautiful as in the dream, as strong and as certain of herself. She marches toward me, but with a certain swaying of the hips that lends feline prowess to her stride.

I am stunned. She looks just as she looked in the dream, right down to the small bloodstain on her left boot. I hide my shock well, however, and continue my conversation with Vilkas. The stranger doesn’t even look at Vilkas. She looks directly at me. Directly at me. With eyes I could swear burn right through my armor.

“Leave that to me,” I assure Vilkas once he has finished sharing his worries about Farkas. I look at the stranger and try not to smile: it is her. My liberator! How many nights have I dreamt of her only to have her walk through my very door? I feel as if I know her intimately after so many nights, as if I might take the lass under my wing. My daughter. My child. I look at her and feel the warmth in my heart, but she looks at me, and I am a stranger. We are strangers. I must remember that.

“A stranger comes to our hall,” I say, looking the girl right in her sharp blue eyes. Such an eye color! They say only a dragon’s eyes have ever had such vibrant color. Only a dragon!

The stranger lifts her chin. “I am Zlata. I wish to join you.”

I try again not to smile. “Hmm. Let me look in your eyes . . .” I look in her eyes and it feels as if she is the one who can see into my soul. “Yes. A certain strength of spirit.”

“Master . . . surely you aren’t considering this outsider! Who I’ve never even heard of!” Vilkas cried at once.

The lad is like a son to me. I can see the jealousy burning in his eyes. He can not understand why I take such a liking to a stranger. He knows me all too well: he can see that I am already fond of this . . . Zlata.

“I am no body’s master, Vilkas,” I say sharply. “And the last time I checked, there was room in Jorvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts.”

Vilkas folds his arms and flares his nostrils but makes no protest.

I look to the lass again. “How’s your arm, girl?”

“I can handle myself,” she says at once, confident, voice ringing with strength and fire.

“That may be,” I say, amused. “Vilkas will appraise your arm.”

Vilkas lurches to his feet, eager to be away from us. “Aye,” he says flatly and hurries off.

The stranger takes her time leaving. She seems to sense something. But what? She starts to follow Vilkas but hesitates and looks at me. She smiles.

“You remind me of someone,” she says, her unbelievably blue eyes darting over me. “It’s as if we’ve met before.” She smiles again. “But of course, I’m mistaken.” With that, she turns and marches up the hall, the shield on her back jingling softly against her scabbard.

I sit watching her go, my heart swelling with hope.

“We have met before, Zlata. But only in my dreams.”