Tehya was heading back to her room in the palace, but not before cleaning Gladys the sheep’s small miniature palace she had built for her. She took the time to give her fresh food and water. Gladys was getting old, but her wool was still thick and white, the best wool around. She kept the sheep away from the other animals wanting the wool to remain clean and pure for her weaving.
Gladys was a content pet, and nuzzled Tehya’s hand with her cold nose while Tehya looked up at the palace with fond reminiscing memories. Tehya’s eyes were always a telltale sign of her becoming exhausted and gray circles began to show on the fifth day of not sleeping and being tormented by nightmares.
It was time to try and get some sleep after watching Gladys eat and then go back inside her miniature palace. Tehya smiled and walked up the hill to go to her room, but not before passing the kitchen. She asked the cook for a warm cup of cocoa; with hopes tonight she would get some rest.
The curse upon her had different ideas and after sipping the cocoa in her room and looking out the window at the sheep’s miniature palace, she undressed and went to bed. Sleep tiptoed in, and there was no dreaming the first hour, but an hour wasn’t enough sleep not even for an ambitious bard.
Slowly she relived the scene of her lying to the Emperor when sneaking Gladys the sheep into the small dressing room to get away from the other animals in the pasture, and what was mischievous and funny turned into a vile disgusting nightmare.
Gladys was being slaughtered in front of her eyes, but she didn’t die, it was a continuous image of a sharp sword going across the sheep’s neck which parted to show her innards and jugular which kept spurting blood all over the palace lawn. Tehya ran towards the sheep and the hooded butcher, to try and knock the sword from his arms, only to fall continuously into the slick blood covering the lawn.
Each time she got up more blood covered her, and her hands and fingers were sticky from the grotesque slaughtering. Gladys kept spurting blood from her neck like it was a fountain and the more she tried to get to her, she slid down the lawn precariously into the thick red blood.
If anyone was nearby they would hear her cry out to stop, but those cries did nothing except awaken the bard from her nightmare. She clasped the bed sheet to her breasts and panted for breath. There was no blood on her, and she wrapped the sheet around herself to go outside and see if Gladys was alright, another night with no sleep and Tehya was becoming weak and exhausted. The only comfort she had was seeing Gladys inside the miniature palace alive and sleeping.
She was still wrapped in the crisp white sheet and walked up the stairs to pause at the Emperor’s door, and her fingers curled into a fist to knock, but she didn’t. She walked back to her room and locked the door and sat down at her desk to write. Weary enough her hair fell forward against her cheeks, it had lost its usual luster, and her hand shook holding the quill. Even her flowing script looked scrawled and illegible.