Turret of Faith: Chapter 2

a very short, but highly important chapter.

    As the group of new companions slumber, they each begin to experience some of the fabled Dreams of Lorelei.
    A human male with flowing white hair and a long silvery beard beckons Cadeyrn forward. “Who are you,” asks Cadeyrn.
    “One who knows the way,” replies the man.
    “The way to where?”
    “The way to what you seek.”
    “How do you know what I seek, old man?”
    “My eyes see far, young prince, and anytime a dragon, elf, dwarf and human share a campfire events are worth taking a look at.”
    “So, you are a Seer?” Cadeyrn questions.
    “In part,” agrees the old man, “and to aid you on your journey I will say only this - To find faith’s key, seek the frightened giants amidst the crying greybeards.”
    The massive dragon Titan dreams something entirely different…
    The sun beats down upon the shining scales of the mighty titanium dragon. Titan absorbs warmth and feelings of contentment from that blazing orb high above. But that is not all that the fiery source of universal life wishes to impart to the dragon. So, in a voice of fire, the sun speaks, “Not even I would presume to advise a dragon. Know this, however, you fly among rough winds, Titan, but if your present course succeeds, you may find something of interest in the coldest desert.”
    Ashete breaths heavily and begin to sweat as her dream carries her far away…
    Running across the windswept plains, Ashete beholds a jeweled citadel. As she stares, entranced by the wondrously glittering habitation, she whispers, “Who could have built such a beautiful place?”
    A disembodied voice, full of gentle warmth, answers her, ‘It was built by a race that died out long ago. Their history can be found in full in the Library of Faith.”
    “Does this place still exist,” Ashete asks the voice.
    “Alas, it does not - but a child of that lost race is roaming loose upon the land once again.”
    “So, a citadel such as this could be raised once again?”
    “Yes - if the lost child can attain the full power of her ancient race.”
    “How can I help such a thing come to pass?”
    “When the time is right, Ashete, you will know what must be done.”
    The little spriole, Aster, slumbers on with all the innocence inherent in his race…
    A tiny, mud encrusted dwelling stands before the little Spriole. A wizened elder that Aster has never seen before emerges and speaks, “Hello, Aster. It is good to see you.”
    “It is good to see you to, elder. Where are my friends? Did I wander off and lose them or did they run away from me when I had my back turned. I just met them and I really don’t want to part ways with them just yet. Although, that Wolfe still is kinda scary even though he said he would make a bow for me. Did he leave my bow here for me before I lost him? Did you see my other friends? Ashete or the elf or that dragon? The dragon is huge. He could eat me, Ashete and Wolfe all in one bite.”
    Cutting the little sprioles commentary short, the elder states,” Your friends are with you still, Aster. You and your friends rest your heads in the ruins of a city noted in ages past for its prophetic dreams. I merely brought you here in your dream, so that you are unable to interfere with the dreams your companions must each receive this night.
    As his companions slumber on, sleep eludes Wolfe. First a rock digs into his side. Then the wind howls across the ruins, deafeningly loud. Finally, however, sleep claims Wolfe and he enters the realm of dreams. Or does he…
    The hearty dwarf wanders slowly across an arid landscape. His deliberate plodding is the only spark of Life in a land crushed in the grip of Death. A tall, pale specter dressed in flowing robes of black materializes before him.
    “Ah, the great Wolfe Greytome,” murmurs the figure in a voice like hissing serpents. “Do you know why I have brought you here?”
    “I know not where I am nor even who you be,” growls the wary dwarf. “So, of course, I should know precisely why ye have abducted me.”
    “Your sarcasm is not appreciated, Wolfe. I am Death and you are in my kingdom. As Lord over this realm, my time is precious. Thus, I am always seeking agents to act on my behalf, both here and in the mortal realm. And you, Wolfe, caught my eye long ago as a soul worthy of such an exalted position.”
    “So, Death, you have brought me here to serve you. To come at your call and do your bidding. What if I don’t want to be your slave?”
    “All mortals bow before Death, Wolfe, so you will serve me eventually regardless of your desires. But know this - While you may be exceptional, yours is not the only soul worthy to serve me. Therefore, I propose a game. If I win, you enter my service immediately. If you win, I bestow upon you an amulet that can bring one soul back from my kingdom to once more live out a mortal life.”
    “Name your game, Death.”
    “Ah, Wolfe, your courage does you justice,” hisses Death as the landscape changes around them, “but only two mortals have ever beaten me at my own game.”
    Looking around at the new landscape, Wolfe finds himself on the edge of what appears to be a large chessboard surrounded by a void of nothingness. A pedestal sits at the very center of the board. “Prepare to be bested for a third time, Death, because I have no intentions of serving you.”
    “The rules are simple,” Death begins, a rose shaped pendent in his hand. “You must traverse the board and remove this amulet from the pedestal. There is only one safe path across the board. Step off the correct path and you will set off traps. These traps include razor sharp pendulums that will cleave you in half, spikes that erupt from the board to impale you and flooring that falls away and leaves you falling endlessly to your doom. Do you accept?”
    “I do,” states Wolfe with no hesitation.
    “Then make your move,” Death orders.

Author's Note

I know it is short, but I wanted to highlight the importance of these dream sequences.....thoughts and opinions appreciated.......