llyr’s dream a kind of homecoming
	Parable:
	They say that in World War II, when warplanes crashed onto aircraft carriers, the magnesium frames of the aircraft would burn so fiercely that the carrier crews had no choice but to immediately bulldoze wreckage directly into the sea. The temperature of burning magnesium sears through a steel flight deck in under ninety seconds, through decks and out the hull shortly thereafter. The bright white flare of a sinking warplane was visible many minutes after it sank below the waves. There wasn't ever enough time to rescue the pilots.
	Dialogue 1
	WOMAN 1: "Wake up love" WOMAN 2: "Can you not see the little light up there?" MELISSE: "Where?" WOMAN 2: "There" (pointing) MELISSE: "Where?" WOMAN 1: "Over he-" [interrupted] MAN: "Wake up, sleepy head"
	White:
	Suddenly you spew from the endless darkness. You float above a brilliant and unblemished plain, a plane of newfallen snow under the glarity of full daylight. Painful flashes glare from out on the plain; they spike your eyes. They punch blind spots into your vision: again, again, without mercy, again, more. A half dozen spikes are all you see, then your eyes spot over. You are blind. Blind, but sightless in light, not dark, Light, light all around you. You close your eyes, to see your eyelids shine brighter than the light without. You are a light. You glow from within as if to set the world afire. You are a beacon. You cannot see, or feel, or hear, but you lead yourself out of darkness, into the endless plains of light. You are your beacon.
	Dialogue 2:
	WOMAN 1: "C'mon, let me live!" MELISSE: [screaming] WOMAN 2: "They shouldn't make the night WOMAN 1: "C'mon, let me live, girl!" MELISSE: [screaming] WOMAN 2: "But see, your light's alive!"
	Hot:
	Your Fire is blindness, and You wield Flames of Justice. God, it hurts to hold it. You must not let go, must not let go, must not, no. But the sword, it's so heavy, it burns, it sears your hands. Watch the flames, they drive away darkness. God, it hurts. You feel the melting start as the spark of your anger and pain ignites the sword. Naked to the fires, you feel it searing your arms, your face, shoulders, your breasts, between your legs and to your feet. Exposed skin chars and ash begins to flake, but this is nothing to the agony in your hands. The flesh of your palms, the skin it melts, flows away, until you feel bones pressing through the muscles in your fingers. Hot Bones, your bones, grate on the handle of metal and stone. You MUST NOT let go. Justice brought you out of Darkness. As if to mock you, your melted flesh glues you tight, and you...can...not...let...go.
	Woman 1, Singing:
	Never, never say goodbye to my part in your life No, no, no, no Never, never, never, never, let me go.
	Rage:
	You can't let go. You can't hold on. It's happening again, you see your limit approaching, the darkness returning. You hear a horrible scream from that darkness, and without thinking, as if from instinct or natural law, you swing with your full body, strike with the Sword of Fire. You would destroy this darkness, but you find it's not permitted. It's not permitted? What do you care? You OWN the Flame, you ARE the Flame. You are your own fucking justice. You lived, you came back, returned to this place and this time for this fucking moment alone of all others. Who dares stop you? You who have no limits here, now. Your rage is law! You cannot burn, you cannot bleed. Your righteous anger flays the darkness surrounding you, leaving you whole. You strike, again, mercilessly, and again. As your wrath Destroys the darkness, the world beyond brightens, whiter still, even to your sightless eyes. The scream in your ears is not diminished. You swing, and your anger writhes in your mind, like a creature separate, glowing in satisfaction as you burn through another second mote of darkness. Another? Where did you come from? Die, die! Die! You slow your blows to savor, to tear, to crush. Yours is no clean death. You are headsman with the dull axe. Two blows for this second mote of blackness in the light. Another dark spot appears even as you linger over the last dull moments of your second act of vengeance. A fourth and fifth mote of despair appear before you finish the third dark stain. They don't give you time to savor each blow. You strike, twice, thrice, burn and move as if changeing partners in this deadly dance. You see the next dark mote, swinging the Fires of Wrath. Vengeance burns for minutes, days, a lifetime, but there is always one more mote. You cannot continue, but you cannot stop. They have taken your life, all of them, the one you know, ones you cannot name, all of them come forth and burn under your Justice. They are too many,and one obscenity lodges in your breast. You are falling back into the darkness. Wordless, endless, screaming comes from your dry mouth. Please, let this one be the last, god, please let there be no more. You have no more; again this one finds your limits. You cry denial, a word, one word, the only one you remember. It is not enough. A light draws near, burning brightly. Without asking, without hesitation or remorse, you draw upon his Life's Fire, you draw his flames from his body, you strike one last time, and burn the darkness from your breast, forever, for all time. God, you cannot move. The darkness receeds into the blinding light. It should be enough to see the last of darkness Destroyed. But you hate and seeth still in your depleted flesh. There is no more in you. You can't breath, you can't move, You cannot breathe. Is it darker? Is the light receeding all over? But you destroyed all darkness...your screams fails, and silence rises. You must not go quietly...you must not go quietly...you have nothing left for the world of light and it begins to fade. "Melisse!" The other speaks this word, made of sounds. This collection of sounds is a word. Words have meaning. What is Melisse? The darkness is not-Melisse. The darkness is no more! Melisse has meaning? The darkness is no more. Melisse is not Darkness! "Melisse" says the other. Melisse must be fire and light. "Melisse" he calls a third, and final time. He calls to another. His Fire is not Melisse. Melisse is you. The name of your Fire is Melisse. The other who aided you is not-Melisse, but he is bright. You cannot see him He is so bright, he is warm, and he is...safe. You are Melisse and Melisse is safe. There is no more darkness. You are safe. Your rage subsides, for a time. You are Melisse, again, and Melisse is sobbing in human arms, bright human arms that hold tight.
	Melisse, Singing:
	Wish- with these eyes I follow with this heart I see with this soul, I Dream Wish- Dance into the Fire give yourself to life let your mind go free worlorn 96.10.23
	See also melisse murder of crows prince for an hour
	missing something you want to see?		tell me!
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