The dream involved a castle that was
converted into a museum in Venice, and centered around two spin-off
monastic orders who had been feuding for over a millennia, perhaps the
Rosicrucians and the Templars. (This is probably from the Eco book that I
had been reading, and partially also from the Iconography of Hell, which
I also just finished).
Anyway, it wasn't really apparent in the dream what the rivalry was about, though my brain assigned the plot of the first group being religious
Luddites, who believed that modern theology was leading away from the sort
of God-fearing, man as cowering wretch, Calvinistic sort of world view,
and the second group being a Progressive sort of sect, who sponsored study
of old texts and artifacts to refine religious dogma. First group: study
and introspection self defeating; second group: they are essential.
The character whose eyes I am seeing through, some kind of graduate
student in medieval European studies or something that would mean that he
would know a bit about these two orders.
Now, these two orders are self-perpetuating from within. The Rosicrucian
one is centered in Vienna, and runs a very small private school there, a
college of theological and medieval studies, in outward appearance. In
reality, it is their order's center, and where they school and train the
ones who are to replace them. Perhaps two or three hundred students study
there, and perhaps one or two dozen of those are actually Rosicrucian
neophytes, studying alongside the other students, but with their secret
goal being ordination to the Rosicrucian knighthood. When entering the
school, which is a very select university indeed, none of the students
know anything about this knighthood, and most of them leave knowing
nothing. But, the students are scrutinized carefully, and the most gifted,
devoted, and driven students are contacted by letter, informed of the
existence of the organization, and are informed of tasks which they must
complete for the order. (This is all done by unsigned letter, as only a
very few of the faculty are Rosicrucian knights, and it would be
undesirable for the neophyte, untested and untrusted, to know who was a
member of this group.)
So, there are a select few students at this university who, without any
face-to-face contact with either other neophytes or knights, are
performing tasks for the order and learning the history, theology, and
other knowledges and skills in preparation for their eventual ordination.
One of the important characters in this story is a neophyte, sort of. I am
not certain how, but he manages to acquire the vocational letters of a
fellow student, whom the knights intend to become a neophyte, before the
rightful recipient can read them, and takes his place. (This character is
a subsidiary, though important at the climax, villain.) An extremely
intelligent and gifted student of history, he has pieced together in his
studies the essentials of the history of the Rosicrucians, and the true
purpose of the university in which he is studying, and the existence of
the neophytes among the student body. He knows that he himself would be
judged undesirable for investiture in this knighthood, so he resolves to
identify a freshman who most exemplifies the tenets of the order (i.e. the
most likely next neophyte candidate), acquire access to the mail room, and
peruse his mail looking for the vocational welcome letter and first
assignment. Then, when he faithfully carries out the tasks outlined
within, the Rosicrucian hierarchy would be so impressed with both his
ability to uncover the continued existence of the order (which no one else
has ever done), and his successful completion of the vocational tasks,
that they will reassess their decision in his case and make him a
neophyte, the first step to knighthood.
So, the events which the story centers around (the characters backgrounds
were all devised after I woke up) all take place in this castle/museum,
which is an artifact of the Venetian city-state and dates from the tenth
century or so. This museum is the repository for many original documents
important to Christianity (early drafts of Gospels, third party accounts
on the historicity of Christ, and supposedly genuine blessed relics (think
Shroud of Turin)).
The Rosicrucian neophyte's task is to evacuate the museum (a bomb threat
or a fire alarm will do this nicely), to steal, and to destroy these
artifacts. The Templar's, who know of this, have sent a knight to prevent
the destruction of the relics and documents. (Though the Rosicrucian
neophyte doesn't know this, two Rosicrucian knights have been sent as
well, as the hierarchy doesn't trust a neophyte to carry this out. When
their chosen neophyte (whose letters were stolen) is seen to be in class
that day, the hierarchy is not overly surprised, as vocation is turned
down from time to time and inaction is the signal to the knighthood that
the would-be neophyte doesn't desire what has been offered.) A Templar
neophyte (the character whose eyes I saw through) has also been sent
along.
Anyway, I get the sense that the Templar neophyte, the "I" character, was
also a mistake, not intended for the task. How he got it instead of the
real neophyte isn't clear in my mind, I think that perhaps he was a friend
of the real chosen person, who accidentally hinted that he was going to
this museum, and this guy tagged along without his knowing. And then the
real neophyte was removed from the scene by the Rosicrucian, perhaps shot
or otherwise killed. (This is by far the weakest part of the story, I
know. It just wasn't something that I worried about while I was dreaming,
since this character was me.)
So, the I character is in some sort of position in which he sees the bomb
call or fake fire alarm instigated, probably while looking for his friend
after whom he has tagged along, who is in none of the open-to-the-public
areas of the castle. Which is why he doesn't clear out with the rest of
the hoi polloi.
So, the I character is around for the encounters between the Rosicrucians
and the Templars. I think that through conversations overheard while
skulking around in the now deserted (except for the Rosicrucian and
Templar knights) museum that he pieces together a bit of what is being
planned, and why exactly it is that his friend is nowhere to be seen.
I hadn't exactly figured out why while I was dreaming, but the Templars
manage to dispatch both Rosicrucian knights, and then leave. They don't
worry about the neophyte Rosicrucian who ought to be there as well, their
informants have told them that no one matching the description of the
Rosicrucian neophyte has entered the museum today. (Neither side knows of
the Rosicrucian hopeful, or that he knows what is going on.)
So, the Templars beat feet and get out of there; their job is done.
Ah hah, but that's not all of the Rosicrucians, now is it? There is one
more, the hopeful, who is going to carry out the mission which the knights
have failed at.
And the only person left to stand in his way is the I character, the
Templar neophyte of circumstance against the Rosicrucian neophyte by
deceit.
Anyway, all that my dream actually dealt with after this point was the
climax. (Hey, it was ten minutes to my alarm, I am certain that my
unconscious knew it was on a tight deadline here, so it better cut to the
chase.) The I character winds up tracking down the Rosicrucian neophyte character
through the castle, and finally catches up to within sight of him. The
only problem is that he sees him through a tower window, while he himself
is standing on a battlement. He lines up a shot (he picked up a pistol
somewhere, probably off of one of the Rosicrucian knights bodies, or maybe
he found his friends body, and got it from him), squeezes the trigger, and
shoots wide. The Rosicrucian spins around, artifacts in one hand, nine millimeter in
the other. His speed of draw and bead make it obvious that he, unlike the
I character, is actually a practiced shot. The characters are perhaps a
dozen or a score yards apart. His shot is likely to be fatal, my shot
an unsure chance.
A bit cocky at his superior position (at the Vienna school, he, though
not a chosen neophyte, has been trained body and mind. He is also flushed with
his imminent success at his stolen vocational task, soon to be named a
knight errant. He (rightly) assesses the situation as being decidedly in
his favor), he begins a longish monologue about the futility of the
Templar's opposition to the Rosicrucians, the gist of which is that the
Templars are defending a very finite store of knowledge and relics against
a self-perpetuating enemy which will not weary in the eventual
accomplishment of their goals, and will chip away gradually at an
irreplaceable cache which the Templars defend. One can defend and endure a
thousand years, but once that thing is destroyed, it is destroyed not for
a thousand or ten thousand years, but forever. (Very Abner Doonesque
"power to destroy is ultimately greater than the power to build and
maintain.")
He tells me to put down my gun on the floor, which I do. Then he tells me
to put both my hands in the air. Expertly he puts two hollow point slugs
in my right hand. The damage is catastrophic, with skilled orthopedic
surgery the hand may be usable in a year, clumsily.
He turns to leave.
My character levels the pistol at his back, and fires four rounds rapidly,
two of which connect solidly with his back. He drops to the ground, out of
sight below the window sill.
The I character is left handed.