Rain Queen

She steps into my path as if from nowhere at all.

I've walked this trail a thousand times, never a soul did I see. There's always a presence. The valley itself is a presence. It presses in on my mind as a constant reminder that I am, and can only ever be, a visitor to this place. That is enough.

The foliage sways, leaves dancing in the wind, rising and falling, never the same movement twice, and always a beautiful show. The colors in the canopy and across the forest floor are the colors of sunsets and fire, death and decay. The breeze goes still, the rustling quiets, and each tree drops a few more leaves to the forest floor. That is when I first see her. She is walking towards me on the same path that I travel. I think that maybe she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

She is almost as tall as me, though not quite. Her hair is the color of honey and sunlight, her dress seems to fade through all the colors around us but I never see it happen. It seems to change just slightly every time I look away. Despite the cold that sends chills down my spine, I find that she walks barefoot as if it were a summer day. She smiles at me and I find it hard to breathe. She can tell, and it makes her laugh, and the sound of her voice fills my heart to bursting. As she nears where I am standing, for I cannot move, a light rain begins to fall.

She takes my hand and asks me to follow her. We walk down the path I was on but soon we take a turn that I've never seen before. We walk for hours, talking of times to come and times long past. She tells me that we have met before, when I was a younger man, and I find it hard to believe though I know she speaks the truth. In her presence I feel young again. I remember things long forgotten, though I don't remember her. She says that she knows this, that it is to be expected for it is intrinsic to her nature, but that we have walked this path before. She hopes that it won't be the last time.

The world is changing, she says. There will be a clash of wills and it will change the world. She says that forces are rising, that a handful of players will be the impetus for the movement of many. She has had a hand in this. She is not the only one, there are others like her, and some of them are her allies. She says that there is a role for me to play in this. Events are coming to a head. I tell her I live a life of solitude, that I have had enough games of power for one lifetime, and that I wish no part in it. She doesn't try to change my mind, but says that I will come around of my own accord. We shall see.

We have come to a high meadow in the mountains and I find that I can see nothing that I recognize. I've spent half my life in these mountains, a good 25 years, and I could have sworn that I knew them all. She says that we have come a long way. I am growing tired and I tell her that I need a nap. She says she knows and that she will wake me when it is time. I ask her what that means but she doesn't respond. Soon I am asleep.

When I wake up, I don't know how much later, she is no longer with me. I am no longer in an unrecognizable mountain meadow, but in my own cabin many miles from where I met her. There is a fire burning cheerily in the hearth that I don't remember lighting. I decide I need to eat better before bed, or maybe drink less. There is an empty wine bottle on my table that I don't remember opening. I can see from where I'm sitting that there's something under it. It is a note with two lines of text in someone's flowing script.

"Good wine. Get the door.

Appreciatively, The Rain Queen"

Confused, I look up at my front door.

A moment later there's a knock.