Many years ago I had a dream in which I experienced all 5 senses. I've never had a dream remotely like it before or since. The sensations I will describe are not embellishments added to this story but sensations I experienced in the dream.

 

The air was cold yet still, like a day in early Spring or early Fall. Standing motionless, the sun felt warm on my skin.

 

I, along with many others, was standing by a riverbank. With a bow in hand and a sword clasped at my belt, I (We) had been dispatched to the right flank to prevent the enemy from crossing along a shallow point. Off to my left I could see the bulk of the battle taking place on a flat stone bridge. Whoever commanded the bridge controlled the movement of the opposing force, the ownership was being hotly contested.

 

I could see many men dressed mostly in leather and furs, some chainmail, and a few helms. I could literally smell the iron weapons that they carried. A great shout went up among them and they began to charge across.

 

With my bow I managed to drop two of them in the river. A third, I only wounded in the upper leg. I distinctly remember he carried an axe in his left hand and a round shield in his right. I should have changed from bow to sword but took a chance with one last arrow to drop the bellowing man. My arrow flew true to the center of his chest but at the last moment, he caught it with his shield. Then they were upon us.

 

I cast the bow aside and desperately tried to clear my sword from sheath. The large bellowing man slammed into me (I felt this) and knocked me hard to earth. Before I could regain my feet, he planted his axe in my chest and my sternum split. Then he yanked it out as momentum carried him over. I heard the pounding of many feet on the ground as they ran past to meet whatever fate lay before them.

 

Hot blood quickly pooled on my upper chest and ran down either side of my neck. I looked at the dazzling sun in a brilliant blue sky, and while playing with soft green grass betwixt my fingers I thought, "Death isn't so bad. Its kinda nice to just lie here and wait for it to come."

 

Then I awoke.

 

Beyond the fact that the dream was extraordinarily vivid, there were two other very remarkable things.

 

One: the (We), were not human. We were elves fighting to protect our lands from invading men (I know, I know… it sounds like the movie Avatar). But they were too many, we too few. They won, we lost.

 

Two: About three years after the dream, out of sheer boredom, I joined a medieval reenactment group. They told me I needed to pick an authentic name for my personae. While researching for a suitable name, I happened across a translation by J.R.R. Tolkien of a fragmented Anglo-Saxon story titled, "The Death of Ælfwine". I was struck by the many similarities of the described historical battle and the dream. The main battle had taken place on a bridge, the invaders forged the river, the defenders lost in a mighty last stand surrounding their King.

 

I did not particularly care for the name and continued to search for something "better", but the name seemed to pick me. It kept returning over and over again. Having found nothing I liked, I capitulated and became known as Elfwine.

 

Elfwine is a slightly shortened version of Ælfwine (pronounced Alf'-win), which is Old English for 'elf-friend'. Only a few names survive from those days. Fred is a common name, short for Alfred (elf-counsel), female form: Alfreda.

 

After I left the medieval group (thank God!), I've used Elfwine as a nick on various web sites. Its easy to spell and remember.

 

To this day, some still call me Elfwine in public.

 Don't sweat the petty things, and don't pet the sweaty things!  ; )