In the vast expanse of the known lands, there exists a substance that is revered above all else. Known as Dust, it is a treasure coveted by Alchemists, philosophers, artists, clerics, and countless others whose yearnings for inspiration are boundless. Only in the vicinity of the city of Al-Lazar may the Dust be harvested, and its possession is considered a rare and precious gift.
What makes the Dust so alluring is its unique ability to transport its imbiber beyond the humdrum confines of this world. With the smallest of doses, one can escape the monotony of reality and enter a dream of their own making. The Dust is a gateway to worlds beyond imagining, where the limits of the mind are shattered, and the impossible becomes possible.
For those who have suffered the loss of loved ones, the Dust offers a glimmer of solace. A simulacrum of their dearly departed may be summoned in a dream, and for a fleeting moment, they are reunited with those whom they have lost. The rapture experienced by those who have partaken of the Dust has no equal. All other sensory experiences pale in comparison to the ecstasy of the dream.
Truly, the Dust is a gift beyond measure, an elixir that offers a glimpse of a reality beyond our own. It is the ultimate indulgence, a wonder that has captivated the hearts and minds of all who seek to transcend the mundane and touch the sublime.
- The Fanciful Travels by Beron de Laney 376 AC.
Opening the door, I was met by a small and gangly, black-haired youth. Despite his stature, his limbs seemed inordinately long, giving him the impression of a half-starved demi-human.
"Begging your pardon, Sir Gilgamesh... I mean, Honored One," he began in a nervous and reedy voice that did nothing to improve my initial impression of him.
"Yes," I replied flatly, slightly annoyed at being interrupted from my discussion with my companions.
"This one is Dumuzi, and I come to inform you that the evening meal will be served shortly. I bring messages from the Guard Master and our Water Mistress. They both wish to speak to you at your convenience, Honored One," he finished, bowing low, scampering off before I could ask him any questions.
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Stepping out of the wagon, I saw our driver stretching, no doubt a little worn from the day's travels. Noticing me looking in his direction, he gave me a small bow before examining the giant Xaruar, hitched to our wagons.
"Many thanks for your smooth driving, Ables," I offered in greeting, an awkward pause ensuing as it took me a few moments to dredge up his name from memory.
"And thanks to you, Honored One. For without you and yours, your man Ables here might have had the worst of it! I saw you out there, like one of 'em heroes out of the old stories!" he almost crooned with a crooked smile before nodding to himself and focusing on his lizard charges.
Following me, my companions stepped out of the wagon. Like Ables, they stretched and breathed deeply of the fresh air. Kidu yawned like a lion, shaking the mane of his hair, which drew a few giggles from Larynda.
We made our way to where our next meal was being prepared, the air between Kidu and Cordelia a little tense. Perhaps a shared meal would go some way to ease things between them. In the short time it took us to get our portions, the Temple Knight had already endeared herself to Larynda by playfully tousling her hair and allowing her to inspect her enchanted sword up close.
The evening meal was a much more muted affair than usual. We were served a humble supper of flatbread and a thick, orange stew with the flavors of carrots and squash, laced with a hint of spice. Despite the ingredients used and its appetizing appearance, it really could have done with a bit more salt.
We ate in silence, the air thick with tension until, unexpectedly, it was Kidu who shattered the uneasy hush. "I am Kidu Kreshin of the Three Bears, companion of Gilgamesh of the lands of Uruk. And you, who have pledged yourself to be his servant. What name do you go by?" he grunted, his gaze fixed on a point in the empty space before him.
Cordelia set down her wooden bowl and turned her head, revealing a striking profile that held me rapt. "I am Cordelia de Aserac, a Temple Knight of Avaria. In the Northern Ice Wastes of the Kar-Kaphon, our goddess is known as Vari among your people, the chooser, and final judge of the slain. I am the third child and youngest daughter of Duke Everard de Aserac of Aranthia. Since I was seven years old, I have received visions from the Goddess, instructing me to train and prepare to serve her Herald. My father, a devout man, personally saw to my training in all aspects, so that I could serve Avaria to the best of my ability. When he deemed me ready, I took my vows at the age of thirteen, and for ten years I have devoted myself entirely to her service," she spoke, pausing momentarily to let out a wistful sigh.
"Aranthia, that's really far to the west. Like, well far it is! What's it like?" interrupted Larynda, with an eager and curious voice.
"The kingdom of Aranthia is a just and peaceful kingdom, where the light of Avaria shines brightly. My father's land borders the great grass sea of the Children of the Tides. That was perhaps why I was chosen for this mission to find her Herald. Avaria works in mysterious ways," she answered with a contented smile.