Everyone enjoyed their accommodations at the chalet. The beautiful property was nestled next to the foothills. The bedrooms were large, the bathrooms were spacious, and the refrigerator was stocked with food. Crispus took the liberty of venturing to a local store for nourishing reinforcements. Everyone was happy to have groceries and wine. They all needed to refresh, relax, and converse; and the chalet provided just the peaceful environment the group needed.
As everyone ate freshly baked pizza, enjoyed crisp salad, and drank their wine, Eshe thought about what she could do to strengthen her psychokinetic ability. She has the skill to use small waves of psycho kinesis, initially developed after the death of her mother, and she always hoped her skill would grow stronger.
While Eshe noshed on a slice of fresh pizza with extra cheese, she thought about her bank account and how much money she had to spend on her endeavors. She planned on staying away from England for some time, and she really didn’t want to pester her father about finances. She felt assured her finances would provide more than she would need to endure whatever came her way. Eshe wanted to help her friend, but, more importantly, she wanted to provide a sense of familiarity and strength for her friend. She knew Jolán was in development, and Eshe knew she also had her own part to play. She was going to help her friend at whatever cost.
As Jolán sat next to Colemund, the couple looked radiant, but Jolán was also tired. It was apparent she needed rest. As she finished her last bite of pizza, Colemund took her plate and piled it on top of his plate. It was noticeable that he was her shield, her protector. He took care of her; he enjoyed looking after her well-being. He loved her, and friends would question whether he loved her more than he loved himself. Jolán looked into his eyes, and she felt a bar of time drop away from her present moment; she often felt this way around Colemund. She, too, loved him dearly. Time often stood still for the couple.
Voipele stayed toward the back of the room; he quietly ate while he reviewed some journals. He enjoyed reading while he ate. As the dishes were gathered in the kitchen, Colemund looked at both Voipele and Crispus and asked, “Are you two gentlemen tired?”
Colemund imagined Crispus was equally as exhausted, but he was unfamiliar with the energy level of a sky being such as Voipele.
Crispus drank the last of his wine and answered, “I am completely beat. Yes, Colemund, I am going to hit the bed and fall into slumber. I hope I don’t snore too loud,” he jokingly smiled at the two men.
Voipele then responded, “I am centuries older than everyone here, so my bones do need their rest.”
Voipele was indeed tired, but he also knew he harbored more energy than everyone in the group combined, well, everyone except for Jolán, perhaps. Jolán was new. She was a sky being reincarnate. Voipele had managed to not have his head chopped off, so his energy was old. His energy was very old; and although Jolán had an old spirit, her soul was not nearly as aged as Voipele.
As everyone said their goodnights, the group divided into their separate rooms. Crispus watched Eshe walk up the steps and slowly walk towards her room. She felt his stare, and she turned around and caught his eye. Eshe smiled. Crispus gave her a smile and a wink goodnight. They both were fond of each other, and they both had known each other since their childhood.
Once Jolán entered her room, she immediately plopped down on the bed. Colemund resisted his urge to jump on the bed too; he opted for a more conservative entrance into the room.
As he walked towards the rather large bedframe and mattress, he wanted to touch Jolán. He extended his hand to caress her cheek. He then said, “I know you’re tired, love,” and then slid his hand down her throat to rest his fingers on her collarbone. He then gently said, “Why don’t you change out of your day clothes. I’ll grab your bed clothes.”
Jolán was too tired to move. She felt like a 100-pound weight rested on her body. She just wanted to sleep. She reached out to Colemund and said, “I’m too tired.”
After Colemund unpacked their bed clothes, he stripped down to his skivvies. Jolán opened her eyes. She felt intense desire when she saw his well chiseled abdomen and his long and lean legs. His arms were muscular, and he was beautiful to her. Jolán found a little energy.
As she started to take off her clothes, she looked at Colemund and said with a mischievous grin, “Come here, but don’t put on any more clothes. I want to feel your skin against mine,” as she quickly, but effortlessly, undressed down to her under garments and tossed her clothes on a nearby chair.
Colemund was excited, and he confidently walked toward her and sat next to her on the bed. The couple started kissing; a deep kiss that entangled them in a loving embrace for nearly two-hours. After several beautiful moments, and after several deep and raspy exhales, the couple fell into a deep slumber. Jolán was cuddled nicely in the arms of her prince; then, a deep, dark sleep washed over her body.
As she rested peacefully in the arms of her lover, she began to dream. Galloping horses rode fast through the forest. Each footstep grew louder, and louder, and Jolán wanted to run, but she knew she was not really in the dream, but she was more of a spectator. As she watched the horses stampede through the woodlands, she knew she shouldn’t make eye contact with the riders of the stallions; instead, she only looked at their profiles and body type. She didn’t want to get noticed.
All of the riders wore long, dark colored jackets. Some wore either a black or red hat, and the other horsemen wore hoods over their head. As the group rode fast, Jolán wondered where they were going at such an alarming speed; moreover, she wanted to know who they were. She watched as they rode to the bottom of a hill and stopped. As one man dismounted his horse, he held a petite woman cloaked under a thick robe. When the man took off the woman’s hood, a thick full head of curly red hair was displayed. The woman had ebony skin and light blue eyes. She looked supernatural. The man then pushed the woman into a barn.
As Jolán watched, her dream did not allow her to move. She was unable to do anything, she was unable to help. Jolán witnessed the woman receive a smack across the face from the tall man.
The woman spit blood, looked at the tall man and questioned, “Is that the best you got?”
The man hit her again, and again, and again; his pinky finger was completely black. Every time he hit her, Jolán kept seeing his black, and frost-bitten like finger. He wore a silver pinky ring. As the man slapped her again, his ring cut her lip; the woman started to laugh. She laughed a maniacal laugh that resonated through the forest. Her blood dripped on to the dirt.
The other members of the group already tied up their horses, and they stood far enough away that they could only hear fragments of the conversation; until the laughter started. The group heard the maddening laughter. The louder the woman laughed, the harder the tall man hit her. He repeatedly hit her once, twice, three times; then, she stood up and laughed louder. She laughed so loud, the horses started to buck wildly out of control. She laughed so hard, her sounds began to deafen everyone around her. The tall man stopped hitting her, and he mounted his horse and fled. The rest of the group wrestled with their horses until they were under control, then, they too left the scene. The woman was left in the forest alone; she was beaten and battered, but her laugh echoed through the woodlands.
As they rode off furiously fast through the woods, she continued to laugh. Her sounds echoed through the woods following them as they rode away; branches fell from the trees, sections of turf separated, and the rain began to fall. The rain fell so hard that a flood started to circulate. As the animals of the woodlands took refuge, the woman continued to laugh while the deep forest conspired to rid the riders from its presence.
Within an instant, Jolán was back in England. Her dream transported her mind to her familiar neighborhood. She saw a woman with long dark hair. As Jolán walked closer towards the woman, the dark-haired lady abruptly turned around and opened her mouth. The woman didn’t say anything, but her eyes were white and her mouth was wide open. The woman was the gypsy hunter. As the gypsy stood in the middle of the street with her arms reached out towards Jolán, she started to shake. Jolán didn’t know what to make of the situation, but she didn’t feel frightened; in fact, Jolán was curious. She wanted to know more about these women, she wanted to know more about the riders.
Within an instant, Jolán was thrown into a large body of water. Her dream dropped her into the ocean. She fought rough waves and a strong current until she reached calm water. Once she was able to regain her strength, she noticed rotting shark carcasses and blood stained water. She panicked. She wanted to wake up. Her dream kept her in the blood filled waters. She couldn’t handle the acres and acres of rotting shark carcasses, so she took a power dive underwater. She swam deep. The deeper she swam, the more rotting shark carcasses she pushed away from her body. The scene was sickening, and she couldn’t escape. Most of the carcasses had their fins removed, and many had severed torsos that managed to stay somewhat connected to the body by a thread of spine membrane.
Quickly Jolán awakened, and she realized she had fallen asleep. She turned her head to look at Colemund, and he was comfortably asleep with his arms wrapped around her body. Jolán rested in bed and looked at the ceiling; but she felt anxious.
As the moon cast its beam through the bedroom window, she thought about her dream. She thought about her journey. She kissed Colemund’s arm and felt safe, but she didn’t know how long her safety would last. She knew danger was at bay.