Dream of Legends

by Stephen Zimmer

  Once they were all standing, the group accompanied Eranthus back down the center of the chamber after skirting around the massive altar stone. Once again, Lee felt the weight of the stares coming from the throng of elders surrounding them, a feeling that did not dissipate entirely until he was well outside of the stone hall.

  Eranthus and the spear-carrying warrior escorts guided them from the stone structure, and on to their lodgings. Their quarters were located not far from the great chamber, which came as a relief to Lee, as he was not enthused about surmounting another great flight of steps, such as the one that rose up from the shore level to the throne chamber.

  The humans’ quarters constituted the third and fourth terraces of one of the common dwelling structures that comprised most of the Unguhur metropolis. Descending a few steps to one side of the landing before the great chamber, they set foot directly onto the roof of the edifice’s third terrace.

  A square-sided hole was set in the center of the flat roof of the third terrace. The ends of a wide ladder poked up above the nearest side of the opening, which descended down well over a dozen feet to the flooring of a large, rectangular chamber.

  The far end of the roof looked out over another similar terrace just below, as well as affording any onlooker a spectacular view of the cavern and subterranean metropolis.

  To the back of the third terrace’s roof, there was a broad entrance, covered by a hide flap, which opened into a chamber that formed the interior body of the fourth terrace. Inside of that chamber was another high ladder that reached to another square opening in the ceiling. Lee noticed that the gaps between ladder rungs were quite wide, fashioned for the reach and size of an Unguhur.

  It was not lost on Lee that he and his companions had been subtly placed in a position that would not allow for unobserved escape. To reach the ground, they would have to go back up and pass through the main landing to descend the towering flight of steps all the way to the bottom.

  The only other alternative was to go through chambers and roof-holes, passing down through the lower two terraces until they reached the ground level. Lee had no doubts that the lower two terrace-chambers were occupied.

  Either way, the Unguhur within the underground city would most certainly witness anyone attempting to depart.

  Lynn and Erin quickly claimed the lower of the two chambers, leaving the uppermost one for Lee, Ryan, and Gunther. The two women slowly, and a little awkwardly, went down the ladder to explore the chambers that they had selected, while the males entered the higher chamber through its front entryway.

  Once inside a chamber, Lee found the surroundings to be extremely oversized for a human. The height of the ceiling alone made him feel very diminutive.

  The chamber with the square roof-holes was the first of two chambers situated on a given terrace level. The entry chamber appeared to be arranged for cooking and other domestic activities, provided with a shallow fire pit that was just offset from the hole in the ceiling. Like the great throne chamber, ledges had been carved into the walls that were more than adequate for sitting space.

  The rear chamber was clearly intended to serve as sleeping quarters for a terrace’s occupants. It was accessed by a more narrow opening than was the primary entrance, and was also fully covered with a hide flap.

  Light within the two chambers was provided by a couple of flat stones that each contained a copious swathe of the bioluminescent growths on their upper surfaces. The stones were not overly large, and though they were heavy, they could be carried by a human.

  As the far chamber was nearly pitch black, Lee lugged one of the stones from the forward chamber to the back to provide some ambience. Following Lee into the rear of the two chambers, Gunther located a substantial pile of softened hides in one corner, upon which the humans could rest, or use to cover themselves like blankets.

  As Lee handled the thick hides, he judged that only a few of them would be necessary to make sufficient bedding. In only a few minutes, he and Gunther had sorted the hides into three roughly equivalent piles, for each of the three males to use as they wished.

  Ryan moved wearily into the second chamber, and flopped down upon one pile of hides, looking very fatigued. He let out a long sigh, shutting his eyes as his chest heaved with an extended intake of breath. Lee and Gunther did not bother to disturb him, as they made their way back out into the entrance chamber.

  Lee then spoke to Gunther in a lowered voice, deciding to venture one question that had been burning ceaselessly on his tongue ever since they had left the throne chamber. “I saw your face when the Unguhur said that they were going to see to the enemy forces above. Why did you look so worried? It appeared to me as if something was really bothering you.”

  Gunther paused, a heavy-hearted sheen coming over his eyes before answering. “It is the reason that I myself do not live in human cities. As I have long wished to be simply left alone, to live as I wish, so have the Unguhur as a race. They are not interested in the power struggles and affairs of the kingdoms of this world, or any other folly of humankind.

  “In that respect, they are much like me. I want to be free to live my life the way that I choose to live … without anyone delegating my affairs to me, or helping themselves to the fruits of my labor.

  “It has always been the cooperation … the assent … of the many that have engorged the greedy appetites of the few, filling their armies and their treasuries from the lives and labors of the greater majority. It is always from the willing assent of the many that the few derive their power. The noble relies on the agreement and continued obedience of the peasant … make no mistake about that.

  “Do not misunderstand me, Lee, I do not begrudge any fortune made in an honest manner, but the world has gone far beyond concerns for honor, and honest living. It is now something else entirely, and it has little to do with virtue.

  “So, as I prefer to be responsible for my own fate, as I see it, in a way, so do the Unguhur. Now, both of us are being drawn ever deeper into this greater conflict. I find it abhorrent to the core of my heart, and an absolute scourge upon justice, that a benevolent race like the Unguhur is being pulled into this hellish affair spawned by the Unifier, humankind, and whatever other darkness may be behind it all.

  “If you knew more about this ancient race of beings, you would know that it is no small matter that they decided so quickly to send a force of warriors to the surface … and likely determined to become part of a war openly on the side of one group of humans. What you witnessed this day was nothing short of monumental, and unprecedented, and I feel a terrible guilt for being a part of it.”

  Lee could hear the alternating emotions of anger and sorrow, intertwining within the words and sentiments pouring forth from the woodsman. He could not argue with Gunther, for he had often felt many similar frustrations in his own society. To live under the auspices of one’s own self-determination, and to enjoy fully the fruits of one’s own labor, were worthy desires that Lee could not dispute.

  While Lee had never been disposed to becoming an ardent, recalcitrant, hermit, as Gunther seemed to incline towards being, he found that he could relate very well to the obstinate woodsman. Many were the times that Lee had ended a long and arduous week, wholly weary of body and mind, and burdened with many worries and concerns, only to see that he had little to nothing in the way of material rewards, or personal satisfaction, left over for himself.

  He had watched the frivolous, bloated waste that was made of the revenues collected through taxes by the rulers of his own age. He knew that in reality he had only one voice among millions to ever challenge those who felt entitled to use the fruits of his labor to support much which he found repugnant, or profligate.

  In many ways, he envied the defiant independence that was so manifestly evident in Gunther. Lee knew that he would never have had the strength to break away, and live largely on his own, solitary merits, as Gunther had so obviously done.

  The Unguhur were still a great mystery to Lee, but
he could see the powerful bond that Gunther felt with the strange race of creatures. Their motivations for remaining isolated from the surface world and human kingdoms might have some considerable differences from Gunther’s own personal situation, but the presence of a desire for self-determination was unmistakable. The Unguhur were content to live out their lives in the relative seclusion of their underground society.

  At the same time, Lee knew that it was almost certain that the turmoil and conflict of the upper world would mercilessly engulf both the woodsman and the Unguhur. The powers of the upper world would not hesitate for a moment to impose their will upon them. It was a loathsome truism that was present in every time, in every age, and, apparently, in every world.

  Recognizing the sheer determination and strength inherent in the woodsman, and seeing the signs of similar qualities in the Unguhur during his early experience with them, Lee found that he had already grown strong in his sympathies. It was a tragic reality that the world was forcibly dragging the Unguhur, and Gunther, into conflicts not of their choosing or making, not so different from the state of affairs involving Lee and his three companions.

  “I want you to know something, Gunther. We still do not know why we are here, and why we were taken away from our own world,” Lee said, after an uncomfortably long span of silence. “Most of it is a complete mystery, but I do know that I did not have a choice in the matter … none at all. But we are in this world now, and we must also face its troubles. Alongside you. Alongside the Unguhur.”

  Lee paused for a moment, reflecting, as his eyes looked towards the brooding, somber countenance of Gunther. While undeniably bitter, the woodsman was resolved to the coerced situation facing them all.

  “And then there’s the thought that what we are going through together is what we were meant to do,” Lee then continued, before the ponderous silence grew too weighty. “It is difficult for me to think there is no reason for all of this happening. I know that none of us have chosen this path. Certainly not you, not the Unguhur, and not us. Please, understand that, at the least, with what I now say. We will stand with you, do whatever we can to help, and we will share your risks.”

  Gunther nodded slowly, his expression remaining dour. “Maybe you will … and you are well-spoken on this. But even in regards to yourself, I would question the All-Father Himself, though some would call that outright blasphemy. I cannot understand why you had to be taken from your world, and put into the middle of the terrible dangers that swarm in this one. Maybe it has some purpose, as you say, though I wish some manner of it would be revealed to both you and me. It has all confused me very much. These are indeed very dark and unpleasant times, maybe the darkest in the entire history of our world.”

  “Maybe in my world we were living in very dark times too … though I, like most of the people in my world, refused to admit what was right before my eyes,” Lee responded.

  In that very moment, he realized more about himself than he had ever cared to face before. An obscuring haze had suddenly been burned away, before the onset of an emergent dawn, revealing things for what they were in all of their stark reality. Truth, as it was more often than not, was anything but comforting.

  Lee recognized that a penetrating chill had slipped into his own world, delving far underneath the shining magnificence of the tools and trades of modernity. It was an empty heart at the center of a body whose marvels of advancement would utterly shock one such as Gunther, or anyone from Ave.

  The people of his world in their masses were drifting further and further apart, like great lands being shattered and fragmented into tiny, ever-fracturing islands. They were increasingly following a siren’s song, a call that subtly, and sometimes openly, promised to make them masters and gods of their mortal lives. Like whispers from sylvan tongues, notions drifted into, and resounded throughout, the general consciousness that humanity could unearth all secrets, and control their world and beyond, by turning entirely to the direction of their own will. They were promises that could never, ever be fulfilled.

  A nagging emptiness, pressures, and growing anxieties had crept into Lee’s own life. He could see the same things occurring in so many others, the result of an existence with increasingly unstable foundations. Like a furious storm that rapidly expended itself, so would the frenzied lifestyles so predominant in his former world. Under what was touted as the most civilized and advanced age ever was little more than a splendid, ornamented tomb, with the decaying essence of true, living humanity within.

  Lee knew the stark revelation was nothing less than the reality, and it was the identity of the evasive, murky frustrations that had so often gripped him. He also saw the parallels to Gunther’s own world, facing a future where enslavement and destruction of the free human spirit loomed, the willpower of a dominating few pounding the great majority in all lands into a compliant submission. The two worlds, despite their enormous differences in cultures and styles, were both going through unrivaled dark ages. It was merely the trappings and forms that differed.

  The gruff, large woodsman was not so different from the comparatively diminutive, otherworld refugee standing before him. Interestingly, Lee felt a shared bond and understanding with Gunther. It was one that was forged with the fires of a shared passion, born of a mutual hunger for the desire to be free of those who had the arrogance, or malfeasance, to promise humanity a way to become their own gods.

  “Maybe we are more alike than we think,” Lee remarked. “The more I think about it, the more I’m sure this is so.”

  “Then there is little that we can do, other than to be true to each moment, as it comes,” Gunther responded.

  “I think both of us can say we have no idea what the future will bring. I used to think I had a good idea of the future, but I think that it goes without saying how quickly things can change,” Lee said. “That much is pretty obvious.”

  “I used to think that I knew my general future as well,” Gunther said ruefully, as a little sadness mixed into his shadowy expression. “I knew otherwise by the time that I resolved to live my days out in these woodlands. Maybe all of this is a good lesson for both of us. Even this old woodsman should not be too arrogant to think that he cannot learn something new.”

  The slightest hint of amusement crept onto Gunther’s face at his words of self-deprecation.

  “Then I guess we will learn some new things together, but I hope to learn much from you as well,” Lee responded, mirroring the woodsman’s grin on his own face.

  Gunther leaned forward, and placed his hand gently upon Lee’s shoulder. “And perhaps I will learn much from you as well. Perhaps I already have during these recent moments. And we may yet find a way through all of this. We just may.”

  “We may … and I’m going to think that we will,” Lee responded, smiling warmly, as he saw the emboldened spirit renewing right before him like a stoked flame within Gunther.

  *

  AVANORANS

  *

  A large patrol group of Avanoran soldiers, accompanied by a few Atagar with Licanthers, discovered the woodland abode of Gunther. Their attentions were quickly turned from the small outbuildings and pen towards its main structure, set against the slope of the sizeable hill rising before them.

  Very cautiously, the Avanoran fighters circled around the two-level dwelling. The Atagar kept to the outer perimeter of the woodsman’s timber constructs, as the Licanthers that they tended displayed an extreme edginess around the buildings.

  From their agitation, it was obvious that the feline monstrosities had picked up a wealth of distressing scents from the grounds. The hackles of the great cats were raised, and they paced about with slow, deliberate movements, muscles tensed and in a state of full alertness.

  It was very apparent to the warriors that the main dwelling was in a solid, well-maintained condition, and was certainly not any long-abandoned homestead. While capably kept up, the structure was still not anything more than two levels of rough timber construction, attended by
a couple of small outbuildings and the large, gated pen. In addition to the pen, there was an abundance of signs that a number of animals had been kept around the place. The huge paw prints and widespread droppings quickly told the Avanorans that the homestead had not quartered simple livestock, such as cattle, sheep, or swine. The signs also told them unmistakably that the dwelling had only very recently been deserted.

  The ubiquitous tufts of fur, excrement, impressions, and other signs baffled the most experienced, knowledgeable individuals amongst the large scouting party. Not one person in the patrol could ascertain the exact nature of the creatures that had clearly been on those grounds just mere hours before.

  The Licanthers provided the only comfort in those strained moments, as the muscular, feline creatures finally began to relax their rigid postures. The Avanorans inferred that the keen predators did not sense any imminent threats.

  Trusting to the discernment of the cats’ superior senses, the Avanorans allowed themselves to breathe just a little easier. The scouts’ eyes still darted at every slight sound, their wariness continuing to be roused as they slowly made their way towards the door of the main dwelling structure.

  One of the scout leaders rapped his fist hard against the thick wooden door.

  “Is anyone in there?” he called out, in a commanding voice. “Show yourselves now, and you shall not be harmed!”

  Empty silence met the scout’s inquiry. He looked back towards the others from his party, gathered all around the grounds with weapons drawn and ready. Spears and bows were poised all throughout the grounds, and the warriors were positioned to react should an attack be sprung.

  The Atagar chattered excitedly amongst themselves in their high pitched voices, drawing some fiery glares from the Avanorans. The Licanthers that the rat-men mastered were held tightly back on their long leashes.

  The scouting party’s leader, a tall, thin-faced warrior, then nodded towards a few men standing to his left, and gestured towards the door. The Avanoran fighters hurried up and gathered around the scout at the door, as he knocked upon it one more time. Not a sound emerged from within the building.