Isolde freely gave her hand to him, their eyes locked together as surely as their two bodies should be. They lead one another to a hut. The hut was open sided with only a thatched roof to break the sun’s power. Inside was a four poster bed, hung with white linens and the smoothest sheets. But that was not exactly where he was taking her. The hut would be their final setting before the dream breaks into a reality that would send them back to Munich, Germany, in the bed of one bounty hunter by the name of Hamish. The woman was in a coma.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">“Who are you? Do I know your name? Why do I hunger for you?”</span>Isolde asked, dreamily, softly.<br/><br/>A smile crossed the man's pale features as he lead her towards the first steps of the hut. Before he could answer her, Asmodeus walked her into the hut but what was to be found inside was beyond anything a mind could comprehend was that to happen to someone in the real life. This was a dream though, it required no magic or sorcery.<br/><br/>He would give her his name, but only when the right time presents itself. He would want her to remember it ... forever. In her life now and in the next.<br/><br/>A long path ahead of them awaited them, several bunch of red and green grapes and flowers which hung from every bush around made a way to their two frames. The path would then lead them to a high golden gate. Smiling knowingly he signalled to Isolde to step forward towards the gate, his presence following her from behind. Fingers interlacing with hers.<br/><br/>--------<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Asmodeus detached himself from the woman's dream. Her body was still laying in the same position he left it in. He felt a certain resistance from her side. He wondered if he would be able to open those golden gates, the gates to a past that was once hers. A past that went way back to Isolde's first life form of existence.  The Demon heard someone walk past the door and he could feel the other man's presence pacing back and forth outside the room before taking a seat. The blonde looked at the sleeping beauty and plunged deeper than before into her dreamworld.</span><br/><br/>--------<br/><br/><br/>Upon resuming the dream, Isolde and Asmodeus would find themselves dressed in white, body parts adorned in gold and bronze. The Demon's muscular, tall form was draped in a white toga and underneath it he wore a tunic with short sleeves. The material was silk, a luxury afforded only by the rich of that age. His long blonde hair hang loose and his head was crowned with a golden laurel wreath. He took a long cerulean glance at Isolde.<br/><br/>Isolde's body would be clothed then with sea silk. A rare luxury cloth that was highly esteemed, and nothing of it is allowed to waste. Its rarity would continue even throughout the ages of the morrow.  It had a stunning golden sheen to it. Her dress was long and belted. The top was folded over one shoulder and held there with a golden pin in the shape of a grape leaf, keeping the other shoulder bare to the man's eyes to devour. Whatever was left of the top hang in the back below her waist. One golden<a class="postlink" href="http://gloryjewelry.blogspot.ca/2012/02/designer-miama-creazioni.html">arm cuff wire</a>was wrapped around her left arm and golden bracelets embellished her wrists and feet as she advanced forward towards the golden gates - these same gates willingly opening to her graceful arrival. Her long fiery red hair had a golden sheen to it and was not carefully arranged, but instead, it hang lose past her shoulders. A discreet coronet of flowers decorated the top of her hair.<br/><br/>Asmodeus brushed his lips through her soft hair as he came to stand behind her, pulling her gently back to him and staring past her face at the gates that opened widely before them, revealing a majestic view of what once used to be<span style="font-style: italic"> Ancient Rome</span>.<br/><br/>Circular palaces with a portico of large granite Corinthian columns under triangular pediments surrounded the city. Ivory, marble roofs enhanced the tops of these buildings with gold and silver and orichalcum. Gardens decorated each corner of the streets, covered in trees and flowers and abundant cold springs. Certain winding paths ended with grandiose statues of Gods and Goddesses and representations of previous Caesars standing in bronze chariots as the charioteers themselves of six to eight winged horses.<br/><br/>As they walked into the city, of illusions and yearning, random individuals clothed in togas opened ways for the two as they advanced down the main street. Rumbling laughs escaped one of the men in large builds dressed in coats of mail, cavalry parade helmets and greaves. This one particular man was holding his shield in one hand and carrying his spatha in the other. As he momentarily turned around, his long red cloak swept the ground as he bowed his head in Isolde's direction before returning his attention to his comrades. A group of children laughed, running through their elders as they headed towards the marketplace.<br/><br/>Asmodeus smiled to himself and took Isolde's hand in his.<span style="font-style: italic">“Welcome back home, Isolde."</span>Every one soon or late comes round by Rome. A city today frozen in time.