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Interesting Dream ... with analysis
Mar. 12th, 2019 09:47 amIt took place in a kingdom with magic. A kingdom in upheaval. The heir to the throne was on the run, the pretender was poised to take the crown.
In my dream, I was a candidate of the Black School of Magic; in order to become a "black cloak witch" I had to pass the test of this fortress-like place which was under the control of the "red cloak witches".
Red-cloak witches had killed off or had killed off most of the Black-cloak witches. They support the pretender, in return for their help, he made magic illegal in his portions of the kingdom. But only persecuted Black-cloak witches. The fortress of the test of magic was in his territory.
My aunt ... I don't know what she was. She was narcissistic, venial, arrogant, powerful, selfish, vain,untrustworthy and did I mention a powerful witch. She hated the Red-cloak witches but from the way I felt about her in the dream, I suspect she was a Red-cloak who had fallen out with her sister witches and now just wanted to bring them all down. She taught me Black magic and encouraged me to take the test of magic.
I watched a Black-cloak candidate try to gain access to the fortress to take the test. Teenaged witches too young for the cloaks they wore stood on the stone bridge across the moat, blocking access the way bullies do in high school corridors. The candidate found a rope bridge off to the side - or maybe she wove it with magic, I'm not sure. She stepped out onto it happily, confidently (because you should always approach magic with confidence.)
She didn't make it across the moat. The beasts in the moat tore her into bloody pieces while the young Red-Cloak witches roared with laughter at her flailings.
Quietly and over time, with the counsel of my aunt (who was heavily pregnant at this time), I collected all the Black-cloak candidates I could find. My aunt was critical in devising our strategies and advising our efforts - but she did not provide any magical assistance (the practice of magic is forbidden when one is pregnant; I'm not sure it was possible, though if any woman could, my aunt would.)
We stormed the fortress en masse, over-ran the young bullies, made our way into the fortress and into the test. Some of us came out with red cloaks, most won the black. We pledged our support to the true heir and ...
My aunt gave birth to her own child (as in, I don't think there was any father). It ... she ... had adult features that were the mirror of my aunt's and a full set of long reddish curling locks, exactly like my aunt's. There was a foreboding feeling at the sight of the child and I woke up.
====================
When I woke up, it bothered me that in the dream I was trying to become a Black-cloak witch. In Western Christian culture, witchcraft is divided into black and white ... rarely grey. Black is evil and strong. White is good and weak.
But I study Gaelic folklore and one of the things I've come across is that magic is described as black but that isn't a moral description. Sgoil dubh, the black school, is the school of magic. The Dark Arts are magical arts. I am reminded that in the culture of the Far East, white is the colour of death. A book I read recently set in the culture of Indonesia stated that black was the colour of rejoicing.
I think that my dream was making a differentiation between magic, per se, and necromancy.
The test of the fortress that I experienced was to face an opponent without having access to my magic. I suspect that the opponent was myself WITH magic, that is, my magical self.
It was not an easy test to pass, but it makes a lot of logical sense. A magic-user ... A Black-cloak witch ... must be the one in control of her magic. Moral considerations, Ethical concerns, Rational thought MUST prevail over the use of magic.
Or any great power, I suppose.
In my dream, I was a candidate of the Black School of Magic; in order to become a "black cloak witch" I had to pass the test of this fortress-like place which was under the control of the "red cloak witches".
Red-cloak witches had killed off or had killed off most of the Black-cloak witches. They support the pretender, in return for their help, he made magic illegal in his portions of the kingdom. But only persecuted Black-cloak witches. The fortress of the test of magic was in his territory.
My aunt ... I don't know what she was. She was narcissistic, venial, arrogant, powerful, selfish, vain,untrustworthy and did I mention a powerful witch. She hated the Red-cloak witches but from the way I felt about her in the dream, I suspect she was a Red-cloak who had fallen out with her sister witches and now just wanted to bring them all down. She taught me Black magic and encouraged me to take the test of magic.
I watched a Black-cloak candidate try to gain access to the fortress to take the test. Teenaged witches too young for the cloaks they wore stood on the stone bridge across the moat, blocking access the way bullies do in high school corridors. The candidate found a rope bridge off to the side - or maybe she wove it with magic, I'm not sure. She stepped out onto it happily, confidently (because you should always approach magic with confidence.)
She didn't make it across the moat. The beasts in the moat tore her into bloody pieces while the young Red-Cloak witches roared with laughter at her flailings.
Quietly and over time, with the counsel of my aunt (who was heavily pregnant at this time), I collected all the Black-cloak candidates I could find. My aunt was critical in devising our strategies and advising our efforts - but she did not provide any magical assistance (the practice of magic is forbidden when one is pregnant; I'm not sure it was possible, though if any woman could, my aunt would.)
We stormed the fortress en masse, over-ran the young bullies, made our way into the fortress and into the test. Some of us came out with red cloaks, most won the black. We pledged our support to the true heir and ...
My aunt gave birth to her own child (as in, I don't think there was any father). It ... she ... had adult features that were the mirror of my aunt's and a full set of long reddish curling locks, exactly like my aunt's. There was a foreboding feeling at the sight of the child and I woke up.
====================
When I woke up, it bothered me that in the dream I was trying to become a Black-cloak witch. In Western Christian culture, witchcraft is divided into black and white ... rarely grey. Black is evil and strong. White is good and weak.
But I study Gaelic folklore and one of the things I've come across is that magic is described as black but that isn't a moral description. Sgoil dubh, the black school, is the school of magic. The Dark Arts are magical arts. I am reminded that in the culture of the Far East, white is the colour of death. A book I read recently set in the culture of Indonesia stated that black was the colour of rejoicing.
I think that my dream was making a differentiation between magic, per se, and necromancy.
The test of the fortress that I experienced was to face an opponent without having access to my magic. I suspect that the opponent was myself WITH magic, that is, my magical self.
It was not an easy test to pass, but it makes a lot of logical sense. A magic-user ... A Black-cloak witch ... must be the one in control of her magic. Moral considerations, Ethical concerns, Rational thought MUST prevail over the use of magic.
Or any great power, I suppose.
