Fatigue overwhelmed Iyaca’s apprehension of being in the woods surrounded by untold enemies, and the youth quickly slept. Rhiann battled exhaustion and reached into his bag of holding and grasped Exeter’s hilt. The blade’s enticing voice appeared in his thoughts, “Young Rhiann, you should be resting.”
Rhiann thought, “I worry about Uncle Mayard. He relayed a story of fighting a bewildebeest during his travels with Nona, the eldest of the Three Sisters. He never said he’d been hurt. When did you learn of his injury?”
Exeter answered, “Some time ago, Rhiann. The injury involved the hair strand gifted him by Nona. His body has changed slowly, but the effects have been cumulative. He brought you into his life earlier than he’d hoped. Your Uncle thinks the future of Magick and continuation of Sagain’s legacies rest in your hands. My last contact with him came when he gave the heartstone and remnant of the Gray Wanderer to the dwarf in the mines. I learned of his presence in the Hanging Gardens when I touched your mind. Your knowledge of the great sorcerer is more recent than mine. By the way… I regret the death of the Shapechanger. He was not typical of his lot.”
Rhiann silently responded, “Thank you. Your voice is most reassuring. I am weary. Perhaps I should…”
Exeter said, “Sleep. Yes. Good night, Rhiann Klarje.”
It didn’t take long. Rhiann dreamed of his mother Caye, lovely Decima, and his cantankerous Uncle. Then the horrors of the battle crept into his dreams. Exeter’s blazing redness, the flowing dark life’s blood of the doomed kobolds, the brief startled expression on p-Mayard’s face after the death arrow struck him, the angry battle cries, and recalling the lust in his heart took their turns at tormenting the young sorcerer’s sleep. As it had many times before, shapeless grayness mercifully entered his dreams.
Wisps…
Threads…
Threads of Magick…
Threads of fate…
Threads of time…
Threads connecting worlds …
Dreams connecting worlds …
Dreams of Magick…
The Magick of Dreams…
Magick connecting dreams…
Magick connecting worlds…
Grayness…
benjamintowe 