by Dave Devine
the desert for your rogue general,” I suggested. “That would make a fine campaign.”
“Ah,” the King sighed. “Horace of Aredea—that’s what he calls himself now, correct? Ben, he’s probably happier out there, no longer pressed with the burden of leadership. He has my blessing. And besides, the people adore him. I’m happy if the people are happy.”
“You are too gracious, Sire.”
“Is there any other way to be?”
We walked along in silence. Omeneir was beautiful in the beginning. Waterfalls cascaded down temples, observatories pointed at the heavens, great domed houses lit up where men and women awoke eagerly every day, anticipating the next great discovery. That very morning, a budding alchemist and mother of three inadvertently discovered a drink called coffee, a hot potion made with sugar and beans. Beans!
This was long before the meteor hit; this was long before Omeneir became the dreaded isle of necromancy.
“How is the chief artificer of the elves doing?” the King wondered.
I cleared my throat before saying, “Evendara? I knew you fancied her! The chief artificer has fallen into a deep sleep.”
“For what purpose?” The King’s curiosity was kindled and I decided to fan the flames.
“The world of dreams is a wondrous place, Sire. It is where gods are made. It is a realm of absolute truth, communicated to us in vivid metaphor. Everything we see and do there has deep meaning embedded in a celestial truth. Even now, there is a city below a great mountain, built by the collective dreams of every man and woman who was and is to come.”
“That sounds grand,” the King whispered. His eyes glittered. “Nür, is it? I would like to visit this place. Can you make it so, my dear Vizier?”
I believe it was at that moment that a devilish thought took seed in my heart. The more I fought these thoughts, the more the seed grew within me like thorns.
The King desired adventure; I could give it to him. He wanted to vanquish imaginary foes in his sleep. That was possible. He wanted to visit the land of Nür, where gods were born. I would take him there. In retrospect, I was merely granting the king’s own wishes and helping him realize his greatest dream: to live in an imaginary world where there was constantly something interesting to do, where there was always something grandiose to achieve, where there was always a cause to uphold, and people who needed to be saved.
We spent the next day preparing for his great adventure. He was so excited. I had to excuse myself often to weep in my hands. He was oblivious to Nür’s many dangers. The King stood ready the next night in shimmering white armor, a flowing purple cape and a golden sword sheathed at his side.
“In Nür,” I told him, my voice faltering with grief, “your own imagination will be your greatest weapon and ally.”
“Thank you, Ben,” he said. He embraced me and wept tears of joy. “This is the best gift anyone has ever given me.”
I watched him while he slept…I closed my eyes, placed a hand on his forehead, and peered into his dream. The king stood alone against a vast army, his cape flapping in an imaginary breeze. He charged in with his sword leading and drove the enemy back, single-handedly winning the day. He laughed and laughed and laughed.
“Praise the creator,” he murmured. “My people are safe once again.” He fulfilled one quest after another. He performed tasks and duties great and small for others. He gloried in all of his accomplishments. He visited the dream city and joined the chief artificer of the elves in an effort to mount a defense against nightmares. Time flowed differently in the dream world. The king adventured throughout Nur for several years thereafter. Meanwhile, as I sat watching him, only twenty minutes had passed in Eos.
Then, in the deepest places of the dreaming world, something stirred.
Knight: Tracks of Darkness
Day 28
How the King awoke after a terrible nightmare and discovered that he was cursed by a wicked spider.
One day, on a crisp autumn morning, our King awoke from a deep sleep. He gasped as though he were holding his breath underwater. On his hand he saw the number Twenty-eight pulsing and throbbing like a freshly made brand. An unspeakable horror dawned upon him; he remembered when his dream suddenly turned into a nightmare.
He spent several dream years performing numerous wondrous deeds. The land of Nür was ripe with adventure. But his glory became too great, and eventually the great spider that lived in the pit of unbeginning stirred and sought to sate her thirst for the young king’s blood. She emerged, casting a great and terrible shadow across the land, and with her deathless horde she sacked the dream city and engulfed its streets with fire and ruin.
The king and his allies made a last heroic stand, but they were overwhelmed. The chief artificer of the elves was slain and she never awoke again in the living land. The spider ensnared the king in her web and bit him on the hand. It was the king’s own agonizing cry that awoke him, and all of Omeneir rejoiced in his return, eager to hear tidings of his deeds in the land of the dreaming.
Day 27
How the King published his dream deeds throughout Omeneir and he was greatly praised.
With great cheering and gladness the King was received by all of his people, including his most trusted friend, the Vizier. In the grand hall of our library he sat on his throne and regaled his people with tales of battles he fought, of tournaments he won, of fantastic beasts he felled in single combat, and of all the lives he saved by the might of his sword. Children asked the king to tell the tales again, and he did it with gladness. For even without flourishing or embellishing, the tales were exceedingly great. The multitudes were especially enamored with the story of a queen of surpassing beauty and grace that he met and rescued from the clutches of a vile dragon called Bozorgmanesh. He captivated the elderly with a story about the night he witnessed the birth of a god. It was like a bright star flashing in the heavens before descending like a babe into the waters. He spent the entire day and night recounting his many tales while his people sat riveted by his words. The hour had finally grown late and it was time for the king to retire to his chambers. He sat, feeling a wave of elation and pride, before noticing that the number on his hand changed to Twenty-Seven.
Day 26
How the Vizier devised a plan to lift the spider’s curse and save the King.
The next morning, the King hastily summoned his friend the Vizier and told him the one tale he did not tell his people, the tale concerning the spider’s rise from the pit of unbeginning, the day the dream city was sacked and overrun with unimaginable horrors, the death of his friend Evendara, chief artificer of the elves, and finally, the curse laid upon him by the spider. The Vizier put his head in his hands and wept.
He arose suddenly, gathering his courage, steeling his resolve, and his eyes were filled with a magnificent and blinding effulgence. An idea took seed in the Vizier’s mind. “Let us send four of the greatest heroes of our age into the realm of your dreams in order to slay the spider and lift the curse. Let us form an alliance of the world’s greatest men for the sole purpose of traversing your dreams. They shall hunt the spider down and cast her wretched corpse back into the pit of unbeginning. And then, only then, shall your curse be lifted.”
The King said, “Only twenty-six days remain ere my doom is sealed. Whom shall I send into Nür to vanquish the spider?”
Day 25
How the chosen Heroes and Villains arrived and presented themselves before the King’s court.
On the twenty-fifth day of the King’s impending doom, the King became too fearful to sleep, and by forfeiting his rest, he became exceedingly wroth and quick to anger. The Vizier summoned his candidates quickly to court using an art he learned from the elves. He presented his idea to them, layering his words with subtle magics that enhanced his persuasive abilities, but there were a couple among them that refused to risk their lives for the king. For them, the Vizier had to use riches, lands, titles and other perishable things of this world in order to entice
them into the King’s service.
Finally, the entire party agreed to hunt the spider together. The order in which the heroes and villains agreed to serve the King in this endeavor is as follows:
Mav’ric the Riverblade, champion and hero of the age, was the first to accept. The Vizier did not need to employ any persuasive arts to convince this man to do what was necessary. The hero went straightaway to the King and kissed the royal signet on his cursed hand. “It shall be done,” Mav’ric proclaimed. And the King was pleased.
The next man was Horace the Desert Arrow, a vagabond who once served the King as the world’s greatest general. Upon learning of the King’s curse, the man renounced his desert throne and returned to his King. All he desired in return was for Aredea to be recognized as a sovereign nation. The Vizier nodded tersely, and Horace renewed his oaths to Omeneir.
Kalaitos, the last grey elf and wielder of the first sword ever forged, agreed to serve the King after the Vizier agreed to pardon him of a mysterious crime he never cared to mention. The Vizier, thinking the request simple, hastily granted the pardon, and Kalaitos the Kinslayer was henceforth absolved, in the presence of the King, of the slaughtering of his own people, from the eldest forefather to his sister’s newborn child. This pardon, and the death of Evendara in the dreaming, would later
