The High Road

My dreams usually feel like something out of a video game and this was no exception. The details are getting kind of fuzzy now, but for the first part, I was blasted out of a cannon, landed on top of a grassy mesa. It was right up against the side of a cliff face, which wasn't a difficult climb. It did lead to a rocky path that came out to a small village.
It looked like something out of Disneyland, or Thief: The Dark Project. The cobblestone streets were lined with shops. Following it to the right, the path stopped at a railing overlooking a view of Disneyland. Guess I got the first part right, except I was very high up, and there's nothing like this at Disneyland.
I backtracked, following the path up and to the right. Just about all the shops seemed closed, though there were a few that looked open. One souvenir shop even had racks of display swords out front, some of which looked to be as long as I am tall, with two blades. The longer blade was thick at the base and swept up in a long fin shape, about four feet long. The handle was red wrapped in black cord, which ended in a shorter blade with a similar shape, but less than a foot long. Interesting, but hardly practical.
I walked back the way I came and noticed an open door in a side corridor. Inside looked like a cross between an antique shop and a museum. It was a mix of dusty mannequins, ancient armors, wooden furniture and fixtures hand made by craftsmen. The lamplight, faded by the years, casts a yellow glow along the red brick walls. And along one wall, from the rafters to atop a cabinet, was a rack of longbows. Their quality varied from simple to ornate, one of which looked strikingly similar to one I saw in a comic book once.
"I know what you're thinking. It's real."
Hearing that voice, I was expecting Archer, probably an association I made when looking at the bows. But I looked over and saw a young woman, tall, dark brown hair that reached to the small of her back, and luminous brown eyes. She had a lithe figure under a navy sweatshirt with a hood and dark jeans that were quite flattering to her form. She nodded her head towards the bows up on the wall.
"English royalty would sometimes thin their bows so they wouldn't intimidate visiting dignitaries." She told me.
I didn't believe her. For one, the longbow was a peasant weapon. Royals wouldn't use one, save for perhaps when hunting. Secondly, noblesse oblige would probably be a foreign concept to them during the time such weapons would be in use. And "thinning" doesn't sound like an actual archery term or practice, and if it were, it doesn't sound like it would serve any practical purpose. I was about to say so when she walked off, and I found myself following her to another room of the shop.
She ran her fingers along the counter tops as she walked. Her steps were so smooth she almost seemed to be gliding across the floor. She opened a door on the far wall, and I followed her into a narrow white hallway. The door was right in the corner, the hall leading forwards and to the right, with barely enough room for my shoulders either way. She paused after a few steps and looked back past me, to the door I had just came through.
The door opened once again, and out came a photographer with an interesting fashion sense. He was slim as to be almost skeletal, and the short pink mohawk was particularly glaring to look at. I didn't get a good look at his face, his camera came up as he declared that it was time to replace her portrait and snapped away at her.
The girl I was following stood taller and posed as her picture was taken, a very demure look coming upon her face as the photographer snapped picture after picture. This only lasted for a few seconds until he turned around and vanished through the door. That was when I noticed the recessed frame in the wall. I only caught a glimpse of the picture when she had reached in, grabbed it, and carelessly tossed it down the hall. She even stepped on it as though it weren't even there as she continued on, suddenly taking on a hauteur that was jarring, and even rather ugly to witness.
I didn't bother following, instead reaching down to the floor to pick up the photo. Her eyes were brighter than they had seemed when I first met her by the longbows, outshone only by her smile. I wondered how it would feel to kiss her. Then I remembered how she looked and acted just now in the hallway and wondered why I would ever consider that in the first place. Whatever. Folding the picture, I tucked it neatly under my vest, into the pocket of my shirt and walked on in the direction that she went.
I was awakened by a knocking at the door. As I snapped upright in bed, I remembered that I had to help clean out the storage unit today. Going over the dream in my mind, I started piecing together where my subconscious had dug up each part from. The mesa felt like something out of a Mario game from the previous generation, right down to being blasted out of a cannon. The cobble stone streets, and much of the shops was indeed something out of the Thief series, although the area by the swords felt like the marina over at Redondo Beach.
The antique shop was unique. It was unlike anything I have experienced, yet would be something I would very much like to run across in real life. Perhaps I'll get the chance to someday. The longbows didn't bring to mind anything, save for one which did resemble one I saw in an issue of Young Avengers. And then there was the girl.
At first I thought she was Caitlyn, a character in my writings. She sounded like how I imagine Archer would speak, but Cait has hazel eyes and jet black, shoulder length hair. Truthfully, the girl I dreamed up could match up to any number of women I've seen. I'm leaning strongly towards someone I may have seen at work, though it could be anyone. As it is now, I'm having trouble remembering the details of her face, but I still remember her eyes.