This thought has occurred to me on more than one occasion. Do I get cremated? Do I give into my Kemetic side and become mummified? Awhile back I had a dream. Fenrir was instructing me to walk into forest skyclad. I had assumed this was a form of initiation. But recently he has been showing me more. I will walk into the forest and be devoured by the packs in the dead of winter. I am okay with this.
“It is the last ounce of life you will feel”
He tells me. I never looked at pain in this manner. But thinking about the brink of death one would feel weak and listless and yes perhaps in pain. But it is this pain of being ripped apart that made me wonder why he would suggest this.
“You should not leave laying down. Give into your fight .”
So, I should go out fighting a pack of wolves. Sounds legit.
“But what if I do not wish to fight my death?” “None of mine go without a fight..”
Thats when I understood it wasn’t a request. It was a demand from my beloved and a final offering of pain. But even more so. My beloved taught me yet another lesson that I knew, sort of. He cemented it. Death frees your chains. But it must come with living first , fighting tooth and claw for what you believe in and your own principles. Those chains will stay on until you break them either in life or death. I remember my mother. She had Super-nuclear Palsy. If anyone has seen the movie “Serpent and the Rainbow. It has the effects of the zombie powder. They seem okay on the outside. But they breakdown inside. But my mother fought until the very end. It is okay that others think morbid. I could give a rats ass. So here I go asking Him another question.
“Will I pass on?”
“No”
“Why?”
He stares at me for a moment. Now he begins shifting forms between four-legged and two-legged. He approaches me in two-legged form the easy friction heard coming from his leather jacket. Lighting a cigarette he looks at me again with a cocky ass grin.
“You have work to do”
He hands me the cig and I take a few drags and hand it back.
“You and your fiancé mentioned Dads name when you were about 18, 19 years old. We have been with you since then. But if you want to think the lights flickered by themselves after mentioning his name was just some random fucking occurrence thats fine.”
O.O
“Yup”
He takes another drag through his toothy ass smirk laughing a little handing me the cig again. I take it slowly slack jawed.
“Sonofabitch…”
He laughs harder.
“Dude, fuck you”
He flicks the cigarette out of my hand.
“If you insist.”
The rest was well…I would rather not write that. But just before my dream faded there was Hela at the edge of my dream. I looked at her. Hand in hand with Fenrir. She nodded smiling. I nodded back. We are always at the edge of death. Death is what the humans call it.
Through the Mists 