Last post, I wrote about an interesting dream I had: a dream that was more of a landscape and a feeling than any kind of story. The dream I'll write about today is similar.
Unlike the previous dream (the Brilliant Sun in a Black Sky), there was no sense of "me" being present in this dream, although it too primarily just conveyed a setting. There was a tall, black tower -- immense, stretching into an angry red sky, filled with clouds tinged by an obscured crimson sun. There were gears and clockwork, and a general sense that the tower contained within it a great deal of machinery -- to what purpose I'm not sure. Although no one could be seen in the dream, it was clear that the tower was densely populated. There was a sense that this tower was an important structure in an empire, possibly of military purpose, for at least some of its inhabitants were warriors, and maybe sorcerers.
A vast landscape stretched all around the tower, of savannas with their tall grass rippling in the wind, rolling hills, and in the distance, tangled forests growing on the foothills of mountains like jagged teeth. Everything was tinged red like the sky, with long, deep shadows, the kind of lighting once sees during a vivid sunset. The landscape was wild and untamed, a stark contrast to the mechanical artificiality of the tower.
But I think there was a nearby town, possibly on the other side of a river from the tower. Like the tower, it was clearly inhabited even though no one could be seen in the dream. Though superficially pastoral and idyllic, there was a vague sense of oppression, like the villagers lived under cold military rule, in the grip of the great black tower. But the villagers did not chafe at this. They were people of the unnamed empire, grim and dour, cold and joyless, but proud citizens of their nation.
Within the dream was a sense of anticipation, as though a great adventure would soon begin and change this dark, eerie world forever.