What fevered dreams may come
Rachel walked slowly across a familiar bridge, lined with shops and stalls and artist's benches, with people yammering away in the sunlight on all sides. She eventually became aware of an older woman walking beside her. Not much taller than Rachel, the woman had on a long black skirt, a white blouse, and a dark blue knit shawl over her shoulders. The woman smiled at Rachel with a broad grin and shining blue-gray eyes. Long soft brown hair was piled in a bun on top of her head, shot through with silver and escaping in wisps at the back of her neck. In a soft voice, she spoke to Rae. //Our spirits are never far from home, are they? Yet we are closer than before.//
Rae spoke in return, unafraid as they walked. //That which we know as home can change.//
//True. You once called a winter sea your home. Then you came here, and rolling hillsides and ancient castles became your home. Now, you have flown past the edge of the sun and found a summer sea to make your home.// She looked over at Rae. //My great-grandson calls you his home. You have made his home his castle. You are good for him.//
The sun beat down on Rae's shoulders, soaking into her skin and keeping her warm. They sidestepped an artist whose papers had blown all over the bridge. The older woman waved her hand, and the pieces of paper settled into a pile in front of the young man with his ink pens. Rae looked curious. //Why are the papers out of order?//
//He has to rewrite you. You will be written stronger, and all your children will be written stronger.//
Rae nodded, it made a strange sort of sense. //Will he tell me of you?//
The older woman smiled again. //His memory is not large of me. I left him when he was young, but he listened to my stories. Ask him, give him the name I bore. Izabela Rybarová.// The bridge turned into a narrow cobbled lane between old houses at the end, with the sounds of a market coming from somewhere ahead. //The past and the future are in you. Your journey back from the winter to the summer sea will not come easy, but it will be fruitful.//
Rae frowned. //How will I know if it is the right path?//
The older woman laughed out loud and gazed at her with those familiar eyes. //It is the right path as long as you are on it. Love is your way-marker. Remember to keep that in sight. And remember to give the stories of the past to the songs of the future.// She turned the corner suddenly, leaving only her voice to float back. //Recall your strength, Rachel. Recall everything that brought you here.//