“A dangerous existence. She can control the minds of others. Deceives them to make them believe things that should not be. It is a power that none should possess as it strikes against the very pillar of free will!” Vincenzio explained in an impassioned voice, ignoring Elwin. “Though one doubts she yet understands the true scope of her powers. With the correct application, one could topple kingdoms and rule empires. It is a miracle you survived an encounter with that one.”
He took a breath and added softly, “Perhaps there is yet still hope if Gilgamesh can resist her powers…”
In honesty, not so much resist, but rather circumvent. Still, I knew in my bones that in a direct confrontation between the two of us, I would triumph.
“For all that you say of her so-called powers, I do not fear that one,” I exclaimed confidently. “I will end her gladly if you can find for me the opportunity, I will smash her brains in with the weapon you have so kindly provided me.”
Kidu looked worried, his brow furrowed in thought. “I am not sure about cutting the thread of an innocent.”
I answered the wild man diplomatically, “She and her cronies were the ones who attacked me under Naira’s roof. She stole my possessions and is without honor. Do you still believe she is innocent?”
“I see, then, she is deserving of it. Though she is a woman, she will find her fate,” he growled in agreement with me.
Oh, thank you noble Kidu for your support, I thought to myself, doing my best to hide my glee.
“However, things are slightly more complicated than that,” Vincenzio sighed. “She enjoys the protection of the Guildmaster of the Adventurers. That aegis is not so easily broken. The Guildmaster is a member of the Iasis Cult, that wretched order of blood and senseless death. He will need to be dealt with one day as well. Therefore, you will need the protection of a power equal to the Guild. To achieve that, he must become much more powerful, enough to attract the attention of such a formidable patron."
The Guildmaster, a member of the Iasis Cult? It made sense. Iasis herself had implied as much about the Guild. It was, in essence, her modern-day church.
He paused, considering the weight of his words. “Becoming a champion of the barbaric Festival would be one such way… though that would be no easy task.”
“I am assuming you have a plan for all of this? I am also wondering, you are powerful enough in your own right, why do you need our help in this?” I asked archly.
Out of habit, he ran a hand through his non-existent hair. “One does indeed, on all counts. As for Kaila, the Guildmaster, and the Festival, you will need to grow more powerful to stand even a chance at success. As for why one can not play a more direct part in all of this… that is simply not one’s role. I can not afford to draw the gaze of powers far greater than even myself.”
“But I can?” I replied sarcastically.
“By your very nature, yes, if that is answer enough. And, forgive me, but that is all the answer one can give you.”
It wasn’t, not by a long shot, but I had a feeling that pressing him would be just a waste of effort. Pressing mystic types such as him, was more often than not, simply unproductive.
“I can grow in power… but that will require time,” I countered suspiciously, feeling irritated at all the steps that would be required of me to finish this damn quest.
“There is a way to grow quickly… but it might be dangerous,” remarked the Necromancer casually.
Sly dog, all of this was but the groundwork for you to say that, I observed a second later. I chose to keep my silence, prompting Vincenzio to explain.
“You will have to enter a Dust Dream of a special sort…”
“Gil, we were well warned many times of the Dust. Those who lose themselves in it are left as nothing more than broken men. It is a temptation that gets at yer mind, body, and soul!” cried Elwin in warning.
“That may perhaps be true. But, one senses that, with Master Gilgamesh’s constitution and resolve, a single dream would not be overly detrimental.” Vincenzio left his counter hanging in the air for a few moments before continuing. “And this would be no ordinary Dust Dream, but a shared one with perhaps the greatest warriors this world has ever known...”
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Did my ears deceive me, or did I hear a note of nostalgia in the practitioner of the dark arts’ voice? I cricked my neck, feeling one of the bones pop.
“...the Dream will give you time to hone your skills. All you will need to do is to overcome that challenge.”
Lust for power warred with common sense as I mulled over the Necromancer’s offer. The temptation laced in his words ate away at my reserve. Surely a single dose of the Dust could do me no lasting harm?
“Very well then, Vincenzio. I accept your offer,” I answered determinedly. There could be no reward without risk.
“Gil, you’re not serious. Gil…” was Elwin’s shocked response.
“I will watch over you in this Dream, if that is what you wish,” said Kidu supportively.
“Then we are in agreement. I must make a few preparations. Take this time to gird yourself for this challenge,” finalized the Necromancer, his tone surprisingly anti-climactic.
*****
I lay on a simple wooden bed, my companions hovering over me like worried hens. Mysteriously, the necromancer reverently placed a chunk of Zajasite and a well-worn scabbard by my side.
“What are those?” I asked, doing my best to hide my trepidation.
“Tokens of an old friend. The person who will guide you on the next part of your journey. They sacrificed a part of themselves for this moment,” he answered somberly.
Why did they always have to answer in damn riddles? No matter, as long as I gained a few levels and skills from this then putting up with the mindless waffle was a small price.
The Necromancer’s method made sense, I justified to myself, the brain did, after all, process things many times faster when in a dream state. Add to that the magical nature of this world, then there was a very real possibility that this would act as a shortcut to power.
“This can only be done once, and never again repeated. So do not think of giving up unless things are most dire. Do not wake from the dream until you have defeated its guardian. Do you understand this?” warned Vincenzio harshly.
His words rang true to my ears. So he did want me to succeed, at least. I smiled evilly at the thought.
He offered me a purple concoction flecked with dashes of alien green. Sitting up, I moved it up to my lips, stopping just before making contact.
“Don’t you wish to know where to find the Beron’s Dream?” I inquired, testing him one last time.
“You can tell me when you complete your task,” he replied simply. He either genuinely wanted me to succeed or was a very accomplished liar indeed. “Drink all of that down.”
And so, I did as instructed.
The fluid tasted of nothing, which was, in itself, disgusting and alien to my tongue. Forcing it down required an effort of will. A sense of relaxation washed over me, as if all was well with the world. Elwin and Kidu looked anxious. Odd, I thought, for there was no place for worry here.
My eyes grew heavy, yet my soul felt, strangely, as light as a feather. Sleep called to me, in deeper notes than I had ever heard before. It entered me like water seeping into a ball of cotton. My last thought, as I walked the path of oblivion, was that I should have brought Larynda’s Dreamcatcher.
*****
I awoke gently inside the dream, walking through a field of mist and ghost grass. Each step was filled with purpose and direction, and as I progressed, the world around me slowly began to take on color. The soft call of birds, lilting and musical, filled the air, mingling with the scent of pine.
A few more steps.
Now I could hear the gurgling of a stream, beckoning me with its cheerful song. That was the place I needed to go. I walked on to the stream.
I bent down to touch the crystal water, feeling its cool, clean touch. Above me, the sun shone, burning away the last of the mists.
A house appeared, forming out of nothing, like a raw statement of existence. It was a squat construction of simple red earthen brick and a thatched roof. Smoke escaped from a chimney at its top.
The door of the simple abode opened.
A middle-aged woman appeared from the door, as if she were a character walking out of the pages of an old tale. Her back was straight, and she moved with a grace that would have put most dancers to shame. She wore a practical-looking light yellow tunic and a man's trousers of an ochre hue.
Her hair was cut short, for a woman at least, a chestnut brown with a few threads of gray. As she walked towards me, I saw a fierce aspect in her. A straight scar ran across her nose, just beneath hazel eyes that showed the first signs of time's kiss.
When she was three paces away, she looked at me as if I were an unwelcome guest in this realm.
Like a nervous child fighting a stutter, I nonetheless found it within me to ask my question.
"Who are you?"
She smiled enigmatically, with only a sliver of annoyance tarnishing her expression. The woman drew a breath, looking around at this world, at me, drinking deep of the details before her.
She spoke as if singing, the words flowing together in an accent I had never heard before, in a language I had never known, yet now understood on an almost intrinsic level.
"My name is Fen… and it seems the world has forgotten me too soon."