The Dark Dreams of High King Dennis Godd-Fjell

This is a report of the visions which High King Dennis Godd-Fjell experienced in his sleep, which were called: “Dark Dreams.” H.K. Dennis Godd-Fjell is not the first leader of Soolia, nor the first Soolian to experience such dreams. But He is the first in a long time. The Chronicles of Soolia show that visions used to hold substantial importance, an early report states: “A Deepcaller has reported ominous dreams before Ship Launching, and thus the ceremony has been postponed.” But our knowledge on these events and rituals were severely limited by decades of historical negligence, where citations and books had been purposefully forgotten and laid rotten before H.K. Dennis’ reign.

The First Encounter
The dreams started a week ago. I would wake every day in a cold sweat, only retaining one thing, a short sentence: "Dral mi." I did not know what it meant, but it felt familiar. It was as if I had been reminded of something, something I used to know but have forgotten with time. "Dral mi" would repeat in my head after I had woken, intensifying as the week came and went. Yesterday it reached a peak. And when I fell asleep I was welcomed with a light as strong as the sunlight in noon. The light disappeared, encompassing me with an endless void instead, but just for a moment. The light continued to disappear at certain intervals, but only for a short time. I could not make sense of it until I looked towards the light's origin and saw Him. I woke abruptly, hearing the same two words: "Dral mi." But now I know its meaning. “Find me.”

Shaped by Water
My dreams have become increasingly vivid, more real. Yesternight I dreamt that I was standing atop the Rolk ramparts, looking down on the rocky seaside. There my family name stood proudly on display, carved into the rocks. It was a good dream, I thought. It reminded me of the hard work put into the nation by myself and my forefathers. But then the tide rose, and waves started hitting against the shore. The sky darkened and rain poured down, it had devolved into a storm. It was pure pandemonium. The winds blew in with unbelievable intensity. And I could smell the salt from the waves crashing against the cliffs, even though I was standing atop the tall walls of Rolk. Then a voice reverberated inside my head, it was dark and spoke in a tongue that I somehow recognized - though it was not Soolian: "You think you have accomplished much, young child." The waves lashed at the rocky shore, growing stronger with each successive strike. "But the accomplishments of man are of no importance." - "Who are you to sully my family's name!" I shouted back. But my question was met with a drawn out and sinister laughter. The waves mellowed out and the dark clouds passed, but by the end the rock's surface had been flattened, erasing my family name. Then I abruptly woke amidst sweat.

Bound by Blood
Recently the dreams have been taking me away even in my waking hours. I will be discussing matters of court with my closest confidants one second, then the next I have returned to my strange visceral dreams. I hear them before they start now. A droning ambient noise will fill my ears, as if my head was submerged in the sea. But today when I entered into the vision I was not in Rolk, where the dreams usually take place, but rather the new town in the Duchy of Holm: a place called Frihelm. It had recently seen battle when a criminal posse had taken to rebellion, it was a foolish undertaking. We were quick to arms and soon their squatter claim fell. It was soaked in their blood, with the Soolian Marine Corps and I standing victorious. The dreams had returned me there, to the scene of battle, and I was basking in my victory. "You think this is war?" The dark voice was back, echoing through my head in that alien, yet recognisable tongue. "You come to interrupt me in my moment of glory? This was war, and it was won decisively!" I replied. The voice laughed. "This is a child's notion of war, shall I show you a real war, young child?" I was confused, but agreed. In an instant I was transported. I could smell the salt of the waves crashing into the rocky shores of Rolk, but there was also the smell of blood wafting through the air. I was standing outside Rolk, but it was not as I recognised it. There were no walls to keep it safe, but rather an impressive defensive fortification built into the mountain. The smell of blood grew more prominent as I scoped the landscape, now with the bitter scent of burning flesh. The sea ran red with blood, looking more like wine than water. And where Lower Rolk now stands there was a crimsoned battlefield, with hills of burnt corpses adorned with blades and tridents. "This is war, young child." The voice said. But this was no battle I knew from the chronicles of Soolia. "When was this?" I asked. "This is the founding of your fledgling Kingdom. Soolia's baptism, bathed in blood." As he spoke those words I saw a young man atop the battlements of the fort. He lowered a banner that had a star over a mountain, and raised a bloody banner displaying a golden trident. Then I awoke. My advisors looked at me, worried for my health, but I felt reinvigorated. These dreams and visions have uncovered my ignorance, and I shall work to uncover more. The whole affair has reminded me of that old family motto: "Shaped by water, bound by blood." Perhaps there is more to these words and the family's history?