In my dream I awoke late in the night, and sleep could not find me. I took me from my bed and walked down the stairs with the hope that the fresh night air might bring me respite.
The Abbey was deserted, the watch on the walls abandoned and the porter was absent from her station. Stillness reigned; there was no sound of man, woman or beast. Above, in the sky was a huge, full moon, lighting the land brightly. So bright was her light that only a single star could I see in the sky, the North Star, the Star that Guides.
This is how I am sure that this was dream my brothers for the moon is only in her crescent. Also, the whole of it had an ethereal feel, my feet led me without my willing them and my mind was dreamlike and calm.
I found the abbey gate left wide open and my feet led me into the Cloister, beautiful and still in the moonlight, across it and into the Refectory, which was also empty. I crossed that great empty hall to a small door which led to the base of the belltower, and through that small chamber to another door that led to a small chapel.
In all this time I had neither heard nor seen a soul but in the chapel there were three nuns, arguing vehemently with one another, though I could not hear the nature of their words only the passion in them.
One of the nuns was very old and wore a beautiful golden cross around her neck, and help a long rod of office, topped with gold crafted in the rays of the sun. She was mostly quiet and listening, the argument seemed to have it’s meat between the other two.
The second nun had a martial bent. She wore a polished breastplate, vambraces and greaves and a mace hung at her side.
The third nun was small and fiery and dressed only in a plain habit.
The chapel was simple and unremarkable, rough wooden benches, a simple alter to Mithra. Unremarkable save for one feature, a beautiful stained glass window twenty feet high on the wall over the alter, exquisitely crafted. The window showed a holy scene, Mithras and a woman who by dress and armaments could only be St. Ursula, both smiling down on the chapel.
The argument reached some conclusion and both the younger sisters paused and turned to look at the eldest. She raised her head and spoke a sentence.
As she spoke I saw the stained glass window change. St Ursula’s countenance altered before my eyes, from smiling beatitude to wrathful indignation. And the image moved, turned it’s back on the chapel and the sisters.
Mithras however continued to smile down on the sisters though his smile to me, seemed touched with sadness.
The martial nun stood up, bowed formerly to the other two, and, barely concealing her fury, strode out of the chapel
And I awoke in my bed, overcome with grief, crying.
And that was my dream. I believe it a true dream sent from the god, though I do not understand it.