Category: Twelfth Triad

Once Like You

On November 25, 2023

In Aetet 4, Twelfth Triad, Vastness of Reality

Word Count: 6,901

Since waking up a few minutes ago, I seem to be unable to recall anything about myself, how I got here and why I was completely nude. A quick look at my surroundings told me I was in the valley of an enigmatic mountain range. The mountains rose so high I could scarcely see their sharp jagged peaks. Patches of lush green grass scattered about the valley floor, but pristine snow still covered part of the ground and most of the mountains. How I was not freezing, being as I was absolutely naked, I did not know.

I did not feel the merest discomfort from being unclothed. The temperature seemed perfect. The grass was very soft and even seemed to impart some sort of energy into me as I walked through it with my bare feet. No insects swarmed in the air, ready to bite or sting me for whatever their reason may be. I did not walk for long at all before I realized even the sharp rocks making up much of the valley floor caused me no pain at all as I trod over them with my exposed feet.

I walked for days without seeing any sign of others. I was scared of dying of thirst and hunger, but even after three days I felt no need to eat. I had an appetite, but I was not hungry at all. In all that time, I did not sleep once. I had no idea what was going on, but I knew things were not right.

I finally decided to attempt to climb up one of the mountains in order to try to get a better look at my surroundings. Without any sort of gear to aid me, I found it to be exceedingly easy to scale the steep slopes. I felt like I did this my whole life. Sharp jagged rocks that should leave my hands and feet damaged at the least did not harm me at all. I jumped from handhold to handhold with the skill of a mountain goat.

I was not sure how long it took me to meet the summit. Feeling no hunger, no exhaustion, no pain and the fact the sun never seemed to fully set behind the horizon before sunrise came from the other direction left me with very little with which to calculate time.

From this ice-covered mountain peak, I saw the massive mountain range continuing as far as the eye could see in one direction, but they appeared to level out into plains possibly a ten to twelve day walk from here. I scaled back down the steep mountain slope with the same ease with which I ascended it. I knew there was no possible way I could climb that kind of mountain so safely, quickly and effortlessly, yet there I was.

I walked through the long dusk-to-dawn phase of the day until several hours after full light. I climbed through rock outcroppings, snow that came up to my knees, and beautiful patches of soft lush green grass. Suddenly the ground began to quake causing a rockslide to come careening straight to the valley I happened to currently occupy.

The roaring boulders rolled straight down the mountain to stampede right where I was standing. I knew I had no hope and death was an absolute certainty. I do not know by what miracle I was saved, but the boulders hardly gave me a nudge as they bounced off my exposed body. At that point I was sure this had to be a dream.

Two solar cycles – I hesitate to call them days any longer – before my estimated arrival at the edge of the mountain range, I saw the first people since the moment I became conscious a week or so ago. Their society was a magnificent thing to behold. Giant evergreen trees grew generously on the side of a steep slope in this section of the valley. These people built a civilization in the branches of those trees. It appeared they moved from tree to tree and to various levels my means of rope elevators, pulley and basket systems and a series of ramps and walkways.

I approached the enigmatic mountain forest and before long I could see dwellings built throughout the trees, from their roots to their branches. The closer I got, the larger the trees became. I thought it impossible such trees could grow to this size while clinging to the side of a mountain, but there it was.

I guess the inhabitants of this city in the trees saw me coming, because as soon as I reached the shade of one of the gigantic evergreens a giant woven basket began to lower from above. When it reached my level, I was rather taken back due to the enormity of the thing. It did not look at all that large from a distance. It could easily accommodate several dozen people. Without further hesitation, I walked into the opening of the basket. Once I was safely inside the basket began to rise.

It reached a large rope and plank bridge several hundred feet off the ground and came to a stop. Clearly no one was getting on, so I assumed that meant this was where I was supposed to exit the lift. I climbed out of the basket elevator and onto the bridge. Not sure which way to go, I picked a direction randomly and began walking. I walked from the branches of one tree to another before I finally came upon someone.

Standing in a large open platform area I saw three beings. I don’t know what they were, but they were not like me. These things stood half my height over and were covered in a slightly shaggy, green fur. I assumed these must be the ones who created this magnificent treetop city. The size of the elevator-basket made more sense after seeing these people. I suppose I should have been afraid of such strange creatures, but I sensed absolutely no danger to myself at all.

One of them said something to me. He held up one hand and repeated a fairly long statement twice. I assumed he must be greeting me, as he made no hostile moves toward me. I was afraid of getting the statement wrong and somehow insulting them, so I decided to speak in my language and hope they understood.

I held up my hand as they did and greeted them. I told them I had no idea where I was, and that I wandered the rough landscape for several weeks now. I explained I had nothing to eat since I came around and wondered if they might have some food to share.

“If you desire food, the trees bear many fruits, nuts and berries,” the second one said.

“This is wonderful,” I said with excitement. “I hoped you would be able to speak English.”

“We can now,” said the third, the only female present. “But we are not speaking your language. You are speaking ours.”

“How could I speak your language?” I asked, but this time I listened closely to what I said. I indeed spoke the statement I intended to speak but found the sounds coming out of my mouth did not correspond to English at all. I was really speaking in their language with no effort; I did not even notice that was what I was doing.

“All here in Ivory Plains are able to communicate with all others,” the second of the large green humanoids said. As his eyes scanned over the treetops and continued, “If you listen long enough, you can even hear the voices of the animals and trees.”

“Ivory Plains?” I inquired. “I don’t know who I am, and I don’t know where I am.”

I explained my situation to them. I told them about everything that happened since I became conscious those weeks back. I explained everything up to the point of meeting them.

The first of the three and the female exchanged glances before again turning to look at me.

“You know what’s going on here, don’t you?” I asked.

“Yes,” the female replied. “But we cannot tell you.”

I knew I should feel anger, frustration, anxiety or something, but instead I retained my cheerful attitude and hopeful spirit. If they said they cannot tell me, then I believed them. Not wanting to be a bother to my hosts, I did not press the issue any further.

I spent a full day in their company. I enjoyed some delicious fruits and nuts they made available to me. I was not hungry, not even after all this time and walking, but it was still nice to have a full belly and a satiated palate.

Eventually the Randu, as I came to learn the green humanoids called themselves, lowered me back to the ground in the massive woven basket. When it reached the ground, I exited, and the basket was immediately raised behind me. With a wave goodbye, I continued my journey to the open plains.

The one thing that did bother me was not knowing who I was. Did I only begin to exist such a short time ago, or did I exist prior to that? I could not remember anything before being here, but I had a sinking feeling that I was not from here. Something, actually many things just did not seem right to me.

Four more solar cycles later I finally reached the edge of the mountains. No foothills filled the region. Instead, the mountains ended abruptly giving way to a great open plain. The grass grew consistently six inches in height. I expected it to make me itch as it scraped against my still naked body, but like so many other things it did not cause me any discomfort at all. As a matter of fact, it felt soft and comforting.

Far beyond the plains I saw more mountains. Immense mountain ranges created a horizon line at the opposite edge of the vast, open grasslands. Everything seemed so incredible, like it was pulled from the pages of some fantastic storybook.

The grass was not so evenly tall as I first suspected. The ground sloped ever so gently but the tops of the grass remained at a consistent level. Only a few hours into my trek through the tall blades and I was more than half my height below the point where the grass terminated at its tips. Despite the taller, denser growth I found I still had absolutely no difficulty pushing my way through.

I traveled this way for two days, and on that second night another quake shook the entire landscape. This time there were no boulders to roll down from the mountains. It’s not like it mattered anyway. When I was caught in the slide of massive boulders, the stones glanced off me leaving me unscathed. It did seem like this earthquake was more intense and lasted longer than the previous event.

After spending two more days walking through the grass, suddenly I stepped into a clearing. It was not really a clearing per say. It was a small village woven completely from the large grass that filled this part of wherever I was. At least a dozen of these domed grass structures I could see occupied the area. The walls were thick from the extremely numerous layers of the tall broad blades. The grass was still attached to the ground and a living vibrant dark green. The lengthy blades in between the buildings twisted and wove into freestanding pillars which created pathways resembling the part in someone’s hair.

I did not see any of the village inhabitants for a few minutes, and it is no wonder why. The beings were only about three feet in height. They resembled a mix between a monkey and a human, but their entire visible body was covered in green scales with black around the edges. Their scales were the same color as the grass that seemed to cover these plains allowing them to blend in easily.

Three of them approached me, and what I saw should have scared me, freaked me out or something. Instead, I reacted very calmly and collectively. The beings had no mouth or nose. Gill-like slits on their necks acted as breathing organs. As they looked at me inquisitively, I had the feeling they were trying to tell me something that I could not hear.

The three turned to each other and appeared to be having a silent conversation. After a few minutes, two of them began to walk and motioned for me to follow. The third took hold of my wrist with its six-finger hand and led me behind them.

As we walked, I came to realize this was more of a city than a village. The thick buildings and the generous number of pillars prevented me from seeing very far, so I only had a rough guess as to how large this place actually was. My greeters walked me in between the buildings and pillars for twenty minutes before we finally reached our destination.

This structure was larger, and more fancily designed than the others. The outer weaves of grass created depictions of the life of these beings. The walls were three feet thick, being comprised of many layers of sheets of woven grass, still attached to the ground and living. Inside the depictions were larger and of better quality than those on the outside.

Did they weave all of this by hand, or did this species somehow have the means to coax the grass to grow as they wish?

Small stools, yet again made from the live woven grass, spaced evenly around the room. Others joined us and began taking seats. I was not sure what to do. The two who led the way here were no longer in the room. A couple of minutes later those two returned carrying what essentially looked like a bean bag and put it on the floor to give me a place to sit. Their stools were simply much too small for my larger frame.

Once I took my seat, they began tracing what I would call runes into the air. A faint trace of smoke followed their fingers as they wrote these words into the air. I didn’t know what to do, so I did not do anything. I watched and took in the wonder of what I was seeing. This went on for several minutes, and then I thought I began to hear voices. Actually, it was more like I was seeing images in my head of what they were trying to tell me.

I tried opening my mind to their communications, and it worked. Suddenly the images became clear, but I still heard no sounds. These creatures had no mouths, and I saw nothing on them that looked like ears. I think they were deaf-mute.

Even though this image communication was something to which I was absolutely inexperienced, it did not take me long before I was fully proficient. I explained my situation to them from the time I woke up to now. I told them I did not know where I was, and I was on a quest to find out.

Suddenly I saw the image of a group of about 300 humans making their way across the plains. They were clearly a nomadic people as they pulled skids loaded with their belongings behind them. I did not think, after as long as I already traveled, there would be any humans here, but finally I knew I was not alone.

In what I guess could be called their language, I asked them if they knew where I could find these other humans. They traced some more runes in the air with their fingers. The images I saw now were from the perspective of the top of one of the nearest mountains. It showed the nomads were not too terribly far from me.

I told them I had one last question; could they tell me how I got here. Like the others, they said no. I did not even bother to argue. As with the Randu, I believed them when they said they could not tell me.

The little, scaled beings invited me to spend the night in their hamlet but told me I needed to leave in the morning if I wanted to catch up to the other humans.

My hosts were ready to see me off bright and early. They had for me a gift of a shoulder sack made from thin strips of the grassy reeds. Inside they placed six pieces of fruit. Three were golden and somewhat resembled pears, and the other three looked kind of thorny with a coloring of beautiful pinks and purples.

Since they could not communicate with me on any higher level without the combined power of their minds, I could not ask them what they were. To be honest, I was not sure why they were even giving me food. Since I woke up in this place, I never had any actual need to consume anything. The ground itself somehow imparted the energy into me to keep my body sustained.

I thanked them for their gifts, although I did not know if they understood what I was saying. Several of the beings escorted me through their city for thirty minutes before reaching the edge of their woven city. From there, they pointed me toward the direction of the other humans and gave me a gesture I assumed was bidding me farewell. A small mountain peak off in the distance was slightly off from the direction I was given. I made my way toward it keeping the peak slightly to my right as I walked.

The continually sloping ground and steady level of the grass began to give me the sensation of traveling underground. Even though the grass was much denser here than any place I encountered as of yet, it conveniently bowed and curved in groups so as to produce something of a cavern network. I was deep in the darkness created by the dense foliage when the ground again began to quake.

In the grassy plains I did not have to worry about boulders coming from the mountains, but I never really had to worry about that anyway. So far nothing in this place seemed to have the capability of injuring me in any way. The rumbling thrashed the ground beneath my feet, but I had no difficulty remaining standing. The first two quakes after my waking scared me as I worried about serious or even deadly injuries, but this time I felt no such fear. Instead, I rather enjoyed the thrill of riding the thrashing ground as I easily remained erect.

Once the event was over, I decided to take a seat and try a piece of the fruit my most recent hosts gave me. I chose a piece of the golden fruit, which I found to have a flavor more like that of ripe berries than that of a normal hanging tree fruit. It was quite tasty and fulfilling. For whatever reason, I had no need to eat; but it was nice consuming such a delicious piece of fruit.

No sooner did I finish eating the scrumptious golden fruit did I find myself becoming sleepy. Since I was able to remember, I never felt any need for sleep. I could sleep if I wanted to, but never once did I feel it necessary. That was until now. I could not say for sure, but I was quite positive the gift from my most recent hosts had some sort of sedative effect on me. I became so used to not needing any slumber, I found myself afraid of falling asleep. Struggle as I might, it was a losing battle. Before I knew it, I drifted off to a strange dream world.

I could see nothing but a faint white blur. I heard noises of various sorts. Some I seemed to recognize while others I did not. Every few seconds or so I could hear a beep. There were voices that sounded as if they were amplified producing something of a hollow sound. Several other voices nearby spoke unintelligibly for how long I don’t know, but it seemed like forever. A louder voice cut through theirs, and all went quiet except for the steady beep I heard every few seconds.

When I awoke from my dream it was sometime during the dark period of the day. Buried eight feet below the surface of the grass, the darkness was almost complete. Before it faded away from memory, I tried to take note of the details of my dream, but the harder I tried to remember the quicker they slipped from me. I was not positive it was the fruit; but if it was, I had two more chances to dream.

I wanted to eat another piece immediately, but what if this was all I got? Would I have to go back to those strange, reptiles I will call them for a lack of a better word, if I wanted to dream after this? Would they even give me more fruit if I asked?

As much as I wanted to dream again, I was afraid this fruit was my only chance. I did not want to eat them all right away and never be able to dream again. I was sure, in this strange place, I did not have to worry about the fruits going bad. Now my biggest question was, what do the other fruits do?

By the time I got back to my journey, I retained only vague glimpses of the bizarre dream. I remembered beeping and muffled voices, but that was about it. I shrugged my shoulders and continued on in the direction the small, scaled creatures told me I would find more people like me. It was very interesting meeting beings of such varying sorts, but I could not wait until I once again saw some other humans.

After several hours of effortless travel through the tall, sturdy grass I encountered something new. A mound rose from the ground standing twenty feet in height and eighty feet at the base. None of the tall grass grew on the mound. In fact, the thick grass seemed to stop a few feet from the base all the way around. Instead, a very short, matted grass covered the mound.

Night time, or whatever equivalent there was of that here, was setting in so I decided to climb up the hill and see what I could see.

I was not sure what was happening, but I actually found it a little difficult to climb this hill. I scaled a mountain like it was no problem, but I was having difficulty getting up this grassy knoll. It took me a few minutes, but I eventually made my way to the top of the rounded hill. This placed me above the top of the grass line, which seemed to maintain a constant level despite the contour of the ground below.

There were other hills similar to this one scattered about in the distance, but something else took hold of my attention. In all the time I was in this place, I never got a really good look at the sky. Something was always blocking me from seeing too far in any direction. I never understood why there was not a full night with each day, and now I knew why.

The firey ball I saw in the sky and thought it was the sun, well it might be a sun, but not the sun. The illuminating sphere passed by and continued on in a straight line. Far beyond it I saw a dimmer, then a dimmer light which seemed to go on for eternity. If that was not enough, this was not even the only series of stars. Lines of ever dimming lights created a stelar grid as far as I could see. I stared in amazement until the new sun broke above the high, craggy mountains behind me.

I found me a comfortable spot in the grass to lay back and took a bite from one of the pink and purple fruits. It was a little tart but very delicious. It almost seemed to melt in my mouth, and it did not take me long at all to eat the whole thing.

I heard that familiar beeping very softly, moments before I fell to sleep. Once I began my slumber the sound became much clearer, but that made no sense for me to hear it before I fell to sleep. Perhaps I was simply anticipating it, so my mind made me think I was hearing it. What could that sound be? Every few seconds I heard the beep. For some reason that made me think of the way the “suns” in this strange world worked.

I could see nothing but a bright blur, so I tried to focus on what I could hear. There were two voices, that was for sure. I was unable to hear what they were saying though. It was as if my ears were somehow muffled. I could not move at all. It was if my entire body was paralyzed because I was unable to make even the slightest twitch.

Suddenly and unexpectedly a wave of indescribable pain shot through me. It was a pain unlike any I ever experienced. The anguish felt as if my skin were on fire and every major bone in my body was broken. I wanted to scream out, but I couldn’t. I could not even move enough to ask for help. This dream lasted much longer than I wanted it to, and when I did finally awake, I remembered every detail as if it happened in real life.

For a moment I considered throwing the other two pieces of the pink and purple fruits away, but I eventually decided against that. Granted it gave me a horrible nightmare, but I don’t think my last hosts would give it to me if there was not some reason for it. I thought perhaps I had an adverse reaction to the effects of the fruit, but I did not really believe that. I believe it did exactly what it was supposed to do. Why they wanted me to go through this I did not know, but there had to be some purpose behind it.

I once again, and with moderate difficulty, climbed the hill carpeted in the short, matted grass. I wanted to get my bearings by finding the mountain I was using as a landmark. I had no difficulty locating it, but there was a problem. I was quite sure it was much further to the right than it was when I first set out. That could not be, but there it was. After I made it back down the hill, I started walking further to the right of the mountain peak to compensate for the mountain being in the wrong place.

In my time here in this strange place, I encountered some most unusual situations, but I do have to say a moving mountain was by far the oddest thing I saw as of yet. Perhaps the land masses were somehow floating on a massive ocean. Could these frequent quakes be the result of such islands colliding as they drifted about. If so, that raised more questions than answers.

I pondered over the meaning of those two dreams as I continued along my way. I did not know what they were trying to tell me. Why I could hear, but only muffled voices, and why I could see but only a blurry white light I also did not understand. I wondered what effect eating both a gold and purple fruit at the same time would be. That was not something I thought I would actually want to attempt.

A few more days passed as I traveled through the grass forest and wondering about the moving mountain. I ascended one of the carpet-like grass covered hills any time I came around one. Each time I found the mountain that was once my landmark was indeed moving further to the right. I simply could not comprehend how this was even possible.

If I knew where I came from, how I got here and how long I was here, perhaps that would provide me with some answers. As it stood I knew no more about this place than what I experienced since waking up here. I did not know where I was, but I was positive this is not where I was from. I began entertaining the notion I somehow shifted or was abducted to some other world. That was the only explanation that seemed to make any sense. That was such a crazy notion though.

I hoped I was still traveling in the right direction. With the mountains moving, and the outlandishly tall grass that did not allow signs of usage, I figured I could be off by tens of miles by now. I just had to keep the faith and trust my instinct to allow the mountain landmark to continue moving off to the right.

With two more days of hiking, I finally located the camp of nomadic humans. I was beginning to think I missed them completely. No one was wearing any clothing. I was naked since I got here. I wondered if that was what happened with them too. None of the beings I met since my awakening wore anything, anything at all.

I stood there for a moment, but as soon as someone spotted me they began to call out and becon me to them.

People of various races and ages made up this piece-mail tribe. It really was an odd mix of people, but that was of no consequence. I was elated to find other humans besides myself. It was so good to know I was not alone. They did quite overwhelm me at first.

Everyone wanted to introduce themselves to me, and to ask me a bit about myself. At some points I probably had ten people asking me questions. Finally someone stepped forward and moved everyone away from me.

“Please, you must forgive us,” the aging man said. “It is not often, not often at all that we come across other humans.”

He then gave me an open-ended invitation to join the caravan. The old man told me not to give an answer now. Instead he invited me to stay with them for a while. When they found this clearing they decided to take a break from their wandering and remain in one spot for a while. Some of them were already at work weaving the grass around the clearing into huts. Tents made of bundles of the dry reeds were set up in the clearing.

Far on the other side of the encampment were multiple four legged creatures I did not recognize. They looked sturdy and strong, so I figured they must be the beasts of burden these humans used. If they were nomadic, they needed something to haul their wares. I figured I would learn what they are soon enough.

A banquet was held that evening after the last sun passed by. The celebration was one of new life and rebirth. Apparently this was a holiday to them. I felt bad because everyone brought food but me. I really felt out of place with them. Their customs were obviously much different than my own. I found the whole thing had a pagan-like quality.

Finally, after nearly two hours of prayer, everyone began to eat. I was reluctant since I brought nothing to contribute, but several of them told me not to worry about that and to go get myself some food.

When the celebration ended, I stayed up for a while talking to one of the elders in the group. I told him what I experienced since waking up that day. We talked about some of the other species that inhabit the area. When I finally asked him if he knew how I got here, the conversation came to a halt.

“You don’t know yet?” he asked me.

I told him no, but I keep trying to figure that out. I then asked if he could tell me how I got here.

“I’m sorry, but I cannot tell you that,” he replied the same reply the others gave me.

“Why? Why won’t you tell me?”

“It is not that we won’t. When we say we can’t, we really mean that we cannot tell you,” he explained.

That did not make sense to me at all. They all seemed to know the answer to my question, but no one would give it to me. He acted as if everyone were physically incapable of telling me. It was as if it were more an inability than a reluctance to do so. I knew I would get no more information from him on the matter, so I pressed it no further.

When the elder excused himself for the evening, I reached in my sack and pulled out one of the shiny golden pears. I rolled it around in my hands for several minutes, debating whether or not I should eat it. I was just about to take a bite when I heard a few people approaching me from the side. I returned the fruit to its carrier before they reached me.

I hoped they would pass by, but instead they asked if I minded if they joined me. Why not? I wasn’t going to dream, so I might as well have the company. I guess I was visibly upset, because one of them asked me if I was alright. Initially I shrugged my shoulders and told them I was fine, but after a little prodding I began to open up.

I explained to them everything, just as I did the elder. I told them how incredibly frustrated I was becoming because no one would give me a simple answer to a simple question.

“That question is not so simple here,” one of them told me. I was about to say something in reply, but he continued talking.

“Travel out to the edge. You will know it when you see it,” he said. “Rest and dream once you are there. That is how we both remembered.”

The two gave me more information on how best to reach ‘the edge’ but neither would tell me what the edge was. We talked all the way until morning. I found out they never met the Randu, and they described several I had yet to meet.

When the new sun appeared for the day, the two led me to one of the hard-to-climb hills to show me my destination. They pointed out the mountain I originally used as a landmark to try to find them, and told me to follow it. I thought they may be joking, but the looks on their faces seemed sincere. I thanked them, told them to say goodbye to the others for me, and set off in that direction.

Each day I could see the mountain moved to the right some, but I continued to follow it as instructed. The grass became significantly shorter, and I encountered no other beings. After following that mountain for nearly two weeks, I reached a point where the grass stopped, only to grow in small tufts here and there, and the ground became rough and rocky. Even though I fell victim to no injury for as far back as I can remember, I took care walking over the sharp rocks.

I was a day into transversing the rough ground when the next quake hit. This time it tossed me around much more so than any previous incident. I was not hurt, but I could not gain my footing for several minutes. This stony surface must be more susceptible to these tremors.

Midway through the second day I believed I was coming to what the two people kept calling the edge. It appeared the landscape ended in a cliff or a steep dropoff. When I finally reached my destination, I could not comprehend what I saw. This simply could not be real. What I saw was impossible.

The mountain I selected as a guiding landmark was indeed moving, as was every other mountain range for as far as I could see. They were not floating, they were not drifting, they were walking. Creatures unlike anything I ever imagined, creatures with bodies hundreds or even thousands of miles across roamed across an infinite ivory colored surface. The quakes were not what I thought at all. The enigmatic creatures walked on eight legs, and they walked very slowly. Each time one of the feet came back into contact with the ivory plain, it sent a shockwave through the creature’s shell.

Three days I spent frozen in that spot, trying to comprehend what I saw. There spread out before me were an innumerable amount of walking, living mountain ranges. I wondered if they all had the same sort of surface as this, or if each one was totally unique.

Finally on the evening of day four at the edge, I decided to eat a piece of the golden fruit and dream. It was quite refreshing. The flesh was tender, and it contained no seeds or fiberous core. It was not long before I was asleep on the rough ground.

This time the dream was different. I was standing in a strange room. Odd devices filled the room, and several people in white were tending to a body lying on a bed. I turned to see a lady enter and approach the person who appeared to be in charge. She was asking about the man in the bed.

That lady, I knew her somehow. She was my wife. I had a wife. So what was she doing here?

I looked at the bed, at the body laying still with tubes running into it and wires connected to it. I looked at the familiar ring on the right hand, and I began to understand. The body was me. I ran to my wife and tried to tell her I was alright, but she could not hear or feel me. For some reason her words came out garbled and backwards.

I tried to give my wife a hug, to embrace her one more time, but the dream wore off. I was back on the stony ground. I wished the details of this dream would go away, but I remembered it like it actually happened. I remembered it because it was real, but this was real too.

Where was I? This helped me answer where I came from, but not where I was. It obviously wasn’t hell, but it surely did not seem like heaven. I had to get back to the elder. I was ready for answers.

By the time I got back to the location where I met the humans, they were gone. I thought about the man’s invitation, and suddenly I knew exactly which direction to go. I walked for several days and caught up to my fellow humans. I quickly sought out the elder.

When I found the aged man, I told him everything I discovered.

“Good, then you know,” he said.

“Am I dead?” I asked.

“No,” he said as he looked down at my fruit sack. “As long as you try to hold on, you will remain in both worlds. He meant I had to give up my last two dreams; he meant dying.

I pleaded with him to tell me where I was.

“Now you know the truth, I can tell you. Every possible concept of a universe exists, an infinite number universes exist, thus every dream world is real. This was the dream you went to when you had your accident,” he explained.

“But can I wake back up?” I asked in a pleading tone.

Shaking his head the elder explained, “No. The fact you’ve been here so long means you are not going back. The most you can do is hold on and dream, but that will not last you long. You are almost out of fruit.”

“What were those things, what is this thing we are riding? I’ve never seen or heard of any such magnificent creatures before. What are they?”

“We call them the megaliths. I don’t know if they have a true name, but that is what the dwellers of the Ivory Plains call them.”

“How many of them are there?” I asked.

“The Ivory Plains go on for eternity, so I suppose the total number of them would be infinite,” the elder explained.

“Is it possible to travel to other megaliths?”

“Oh yes,” the elder replied. “When two come together, it is possible to move from one to the other.

“So long as you stay on your monolith, you are immortal. Nothing can harm you and you’ve no need to eat or sleep. You will stay young forever. If you travel to another megalith, you will begin to age once again,” he told me.

“How do you know this?” I inquired.

He looked at me with a smile and said, “Because, I was young once like you.”

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Lake in the Mountains

By Mychal Wilson

On November 20, 2023

In Aetet 4, Twelfth Triad

Word Count: 5,772

As a child, I remembered watching the armored soldiers return from their campaigns carrying treasures beyond imagination. The sound of their horns signaling their return always drew me running out to the marble balcony. It was incredibly awe inspiring to watch the giant wooden doors slowly open until the men came through them marching in unison, their armor shining bright in the sun. Although they always entered the city with the recently won treasures covered under heavy drapes, I always hoped I would get a glimpse of what they were carrying one day.

Once the last of the soldiers entered our majestic mountain city, the cranks would then begin to turn the other way and the colossal doors would slowly swing closed. Two teams of horses were required to operate the city gate, which became every bit as impenetrable as the sky-blue granite walls for which it was a portal. The soldiers did not march very far before they stopped and set their burden on the ground. There they would stand at the ready until the gate was closed, and the first locking bar was in place. When that massive passage was open, it was the only time our great city was vulnerable.

The treasures were taken to a processing area where it was sorted and sent to various areas of the city. Precious metals were melted down and reforged into what the people of the city wanted or needed. Gemstones were used in artwork, jewelry and the like, while harder gems were used to create extremely effective cutting utensils. Anything that could not be reused, such as wooden idols, was burned once any precious stones and metals were removed. The ashes would then be taken to the far end of the lake where it was at its deepest and poured in as a sacrifice to the spirit of the lake.

Seven smaller cities within a ten-day travel range surrounded Argon. These cities provided our shining city with the food necessary to sustain such a large population while being paid handsomely for their agricultural products. At the same time, they enjoyed the security of having the army of Argon within only a few days march. No other kingdom dared to threaten Argon, and that immunity spread to its neighbors.

The power and success that came to the city of Argon was solely due to the discovery of how to mold and shape marastine into the desired form. The strange metal, which appeared almost to be crystal filled with tiny flakes of gold and silver, was only ever found in the form of artifacts from some long-lost civilization. It was fashioned into armor that could not be penetrated by any known weapon. Weapons made from the marastine retained a keen, razor-sharp edge indefinitely. The metal absorbed heat while always remaining at a cool temperature.

Equipped with such armor and weapons, the army of Argon conquered one land after another. Nothing could stop our forces. Kingdoms who surrendered and pledged their loyalty to Argon were given quarter, their lives and buildings spared. Those kingdoms who chose to resist were crushed under the strength of our mighty warriors.

Precious metals such as gold, platinum and marastine decorated the buildings and statues of the city making it shine as a warning to the world to not dare attempt marching on Argon. Every building in the city was constructed from marble stone blocks mined from the southern tip of the mountain range. The light-blue granite walls almost blended in with the sky on a sunny day. It truly was a place fit for the gods.

I was excited and ready when the birth month of my ninth year arrived, and I was conscripted into the military. All young men began their military training when they reached their ninth year. Many, including myself, began training and preparing for our military service years before then. I could not wait to wear that glorious armor and wield one of those gleaming weapons as my own. That would not happen until the birth month of my fifteenth year. Until then I would spend almost all of my time training, learning to master the weapon of my choosing.

For my first year, I participated in rigorous physical exercise and unarmed combat. It was a few months into my second year before I began training in melee combat. I proudly trained vigorously with a multitude of weapons working to find the one that would suit me the best. We continued daily training with various implements of war until the winter of my third year of training arrived.

Being large for my age, and anticipating growing much larger, I selected the bardiche as the weapon upon which I would focus the remainder of my training. It was a weapon that required both hands to utilize properly, so I would be unable to carry a shield. The long shaft of the weapon and oversized blade would allow me to defend myself from those who might try to stand against us.

I was under the impression our training would begin with our marastine arms, but we started with crude wood and iron weapons instead. These were much heavier than the gleaming weapons Argon’s warriors carried, and the armor was so heavy it made staying standing erect and balancing quite difficult. The armor we wore during our daily workout routines was not too cumbersome, but this iron armor was much heavier than I ever expected it to be.

Combat training in iron armor did not begin until six months after it was issued to us. Until that time arrived, we performed exercises, went on long hikes through the mountains and performed drills. To me the most difficult part of this training for me was getting back on my feet after being knocked prone. It was a struggle, but I was determined to master this skill if I had to train with every bit of down time I had.

My strength increased by the day it seemed, and after many months of intense practice and training, I did something that astonished my superiors. When the two men barreled me in the chest with the relatively small battering ram to knock me to the ground, I maintained my footing. I was just as shocked as they were. I never saw anyone take that ram to their armored chest and not be thrown to the ground.

Soon after that I was taken out of the normal training program and was instead placed in a training program for Argon’s elite forces. My iron armor was taken away, and I was fitted with a customized suit of marastine field-plate. I was also given a weapon worthy of my growing might. Having become so accustomed to the iron weapon and armor, this new equipment felt virtually weightless. This armor did not even weigh as much as the leather armor in which we trained.

I continued to grow in stature and in skill. My new training took on new aspects such as mountain climbing carrying my armor and weapon on my back, traveling through mountains streams so as not to leave a trail, and close quarter combat. The latter was difficult because of the size of my weapon. In total my bardiche was more than four feet in length including the spike at the butt end. It was difficult, but not impossible. Soon I became quite adept at dominating the space inside of tunnels and narrow hallways.

When graduation finally came, I graduated as unit commander for the new elite unit. I had twenty-five specially trained soldiers directly underneath me. My hope always was to excel in training, but I never imagined I would be the commander of the most recent elite unit.

I saw my parents for the first time in six years at the end of the ceremony. They were so proud of me and the strong man I became. I only had a week to spend with them before I had to report for duty. It was a pleasant surprise to find out I had a baby sister born with the same birth month as me. We were all overjoyed as my sister took her first steps in the week I was home. It made me feel good. Keeping her protected and providing her with a good life was what my service was all about. That was what I thought at first anyway.

My first mission was expected to take eight to ten weeks to complete. We were going to provide the local government, loyal to Argon, from constant bands of raiders terrorizing the region. This city paid its dues to Argon, so as promised, Argon sent them much needed military support. Five units composed of 26 men in each unit and my unit of myself and thirteen men handpicked for this mission set out early in the morning.

This time I was the brave soldier in the gleaming armor and the large polearm gripped tightly in my hands as the children watched us march beyond the boundaries of the magnificent gate. I marched proudly with my unit as my parents and young sister watched from the stone balcony. Ever since I could remember, I could not wait until it was my turn to march from the city to bring back to it the riches of the world.

Our expedition took us through the southern edge of the mountains, which was a ten-day march on its own. Once we reached the base of the mountains, we traveled past one of the cities that provided Argon with food. It was smaller than I expected it to be. It paled in comparison to the majestic city in which I was raised. I knew other cities were not as wealthy as Argon, but I did not think they lived in such old and dilapidated structures as I now gazed upon.

We marched for most of the day, every day for another two weeks before reaching our destination. This city of Drawnbrass was no more than a collection of a gross of buildings at the absolute most. Most of the people were dressed in rags and stared at us as we marched to the city office. I stood with the rest of the soldiers as our commander went inside to announce our arrival and receive a briefing on the current situation. He would apprise me and the other sub-commanders of the condition in the region so we could begin discussing our strategy.

The expedition commander informed us armed bandits attacked several transports making off with anything from gold to fermented drink. These raids were beginning to have a devastating effect on the population of the city and those living in the surrounding countryside and forest. Using maps of the area provided to us from the city officials, we began to devise our plot to crush the band of raiders and ease the burden of the local population.

Our blond hair and tan skin clearly set us apart from the locals with their red hair and freckled skin, so attempting to use a decoy transport to draw them out would not work unless we had some of the locals assist. The worry was if we told any of the locals of our intent, they may get word back to the bandits. We decided to keep the reason for this visit a secret, and after a few hours we departed carrying a sack full of mundane items we received from the city office.

We backtracked for a full day before we stopped. Our plan was to have some of us return as travelers passing through in hopes of drawing out the bandits. Once we accomplished that task, we would track them back to their hideout and await the return of the rest of our forces. With our forces recombined, we would put an end to the bandits.

First, we had to obtain a wagon. There was a farm house another half-day of backtracking away, so we sent a group of ten men to go purchase a wagon from that family. They were instructed to say we needed it to help some of the wounded return to Argon. The commander gave them ten gold coins, but he instructed them to begin the offer with only two coins. Ten coins was an outrageous price to pay for a wagon, but the group had to make them believe they were headed away from Drawnbrass.

When dawn came the next day, the main body of our forces marched back to meet up with the men tasked with obtaining a wagon. Only two hours into our march, we met up with the others. They purchased the wagon and two horses for a total of seven gold coins.

It only made sense to send in men from the elite unit as reinforcements would be half of a day behind. As commander of the elite unit, I took charge of this mission and picked five other men to join me. It was a tarped wagon, so four men and our weapons had enough room to fit comfortably. The other two of us sat at the front of the wagon, our eyes constantly on the watch for any movement.

Early the next day we passed Drawnbrass and headed down the road said to be most terrorized by bandits. I was armed only with a dagger since my bardiche was much too large to conceal from view. I had seated next to me the best swordsman in the entire expedition. The two of us only wore our basic clothing covered with robes, so we had to remain unarmored. The four men in the back of the wagon were armored and ready to attack should melee ensue.

Wearing hooded robes to hide our identity as Argonites, we returned through Drawnbrass in the wagon we purchased and headed down what should be the most dangerous route. We were nearly an hour past Drawnbrass when six robbers jumped out of the bushes to rob us. One wielded a sword, and one wielded a bow, but the rest of them were armed with meager farming tools. I noticed one affixed a hook on the back of a rake. That was a wise idea. Such an implement could be used to drag armored men off their horses quite easily.

We pleaded with them not to hurt us, and we turned over our purses just as they demanded. I begged them to please not hurt my daughter in the back. I explained to them she was sick with a pox, and we were trying to get her to a physician. This was enough to dissuade them from wanting to go rummaging through the back of our wagon. They took our two purses full of coins and left.

The attack was nothing like the city officials in Drawnbrass described. They were not well-armed, and they did not appear to have the discipline and coordination as a group to call them well-trained. These so-called bandits took only the money we tossed to them and left. None of them made any truly aggressive moves. These were ragtag farmers. This was no armed and trained militia. I did not understand why soldiers of our caliber were brought in to deal with hungry peasants.

Despite my feelings on the situation, I had my orders to carry out. I was a soldier, and I did not get to make up my own orders. We gave the six thieves an hour to get ahead of us, then our best tracker, our most stealthy man and I set off after them. Tracking them was not difficult. It seemed them men simply ran off into the forest making no attempt to keep their tracks hidden. At one point the paths converged into what was already a well-worn trail in the forest.

Their flight clearly took them to a small cluster of farmhouses along with several barns nearby. I had my two men stay hidden and I carefully made my way to a barn in whose windows several lamps could be seen. Using my training, I quietly crept up to the barn as I kept myself hidden by the multitude of objects and haystacks between me and it. No one was guarding the barn or any of the other buildings for that matter. I saw no one watching for intruders, and I easily made my way to the barn window without being seen.

I was somewhat taken aback by what I saw transpiring inside the building. It appeared the building was transformed into a crude temple. The men who took our purses were handing coins to everyone inside. They were nothing but simple farm folk dressed in tattered clothing and appearing quite malnourished. As the men distributed one coin to each person present, the man at what could scarcely be called an alter prayed to their god for forgiveness for the bad thing they had to do so they could feed their families.

This was definitely not what I was told was occurring during the briefing before leaving Argon. I expected to face organized forces outnumbering our own, but instead I found hungry peasants trying to make sure their families had something to eat. During his prayer, the man pleaded with their god to have the people of Drawnbrass ease off on the heavy taxes imposed upon the farmers. Without those crushing taxes, he said, there would be no need to resort to the lives of thieves simply to survive.

Making my way back to the two men waiting for me in the forest, I informed them of what I observed. They both had the same reaction as me. They both expected a small army, not a bunch of hungry farmers. Carefully, we made our way back to the other four waiting with the wagon. I explained to them what I saw and instructed two of them to take the wagon and return to the main force to inform them of our discovery. I gave them orders to instruct the other units to halt their march as the threat was not what we were told it was.

The remaining four of us stayed hidden as we watched for any further activity from the thieves. Morning came and we saw nothing more of the ragtag bandits. I was a bit shocked when the rest of our forces arrived at our location. With no more need to stay concealed, myself and the others came out of our hiding place and joined the main group.

I immediately approached the expedition commander and told him my men should have informed him there was no genuine threat to Drawnbrass. The commander said my men did indeed inform him of the specifics of the situation, but that nothing in our objective changed. Our orders were to locate the criminals plaguing Drawnbrass, and that was what we were going to do.

Despite my protests, the commander began instructing the other units to flank the cluster of buildings and attack on his command. Again I objected to what would be nothing but a slaughter of simple people who were only trying to survive. The commander had orders to locate and neutralize the threat, and I had my orders to obey the expedition commander.

I provided the commander with the intelligence we gathered and even went so far as to lead him and his unit to the hamlet. Once there I informed him my unit’s part of the mission was over. We located the thieves, and the specialized skills of my unit would not be necessary for the final part of the mission. Needless to say the expedition commander was not happy about this, but as commander of the elite unit I was well within my power to make such a judgement.

At the expedition commander’s signal, the other five units converged on the small congregation of homes. This was not the glorious conquest I was always told was the goal and pride of the army of Argon. This was the senseless slaughter of helpless people. The people of the hamlet had absolutely no chance against the armored soldiers of Argon, and the slaughter was over in less than ten minutes.

When the unit commander finally came out of the barn, he was leading a group of men carrying two poles with a tapestry stretched between them. This was the usual method we used for transporting items, but there were no items of value inside that barn for us to take. The group got closer, and I could see they took all of the wooden idols inside the makeshift temple. The only time the armies of Argon took items of religious value was when they were adorned with gold and jewels.

Wooden idols held no value to us, so I did not understand why we were taking them. The expedition commander was already very upset my unit did not take part in the slaughter of those hungry farmers, so I did not press him on the issue. I wished I did, but despite my strong feelings against his actions, I kept my mouth closed.

I was happy when we reached the watch towers jutting out of the mountains on either side of the road and heard that so familiar sound of the horns informing the gate we were returning from our mission. When the expedition commander had the items pilfered from the farmers covered with blankets, it made me wonder what those soldiers were actually carrying all this time.

Were they really bringing nothing but gold and riches, or did some of them also return with worthless wooden artifacts? Was that why they always returned with everything covered?

The items were taken to the sorting center despite the fact none of them contained anything of value to Argon. It was almost as if the expedition commander was trying to hide what he did outside of Drawnbrass. I could not help but wonder how often this same scenario played out right in front of everyone.

Was this really the army I was so anxious to join?

It made me feel ill to think that I idolized these soldiers all this time thinking they were fighting in battles to rid the world of evil. Now it seemed our armies were the evil that plagued the surrounding lands. Believing in what Argon stood for was easy while I lived virtually my entire life behind its protective walls. After seeing the world outside of my home city, I began to have serious doubts in the city’s leadership.

There was no reason for us to take and destroy those wooden idols. It was not bad enough that we went in and slaughtered those helpless people, we had to destroy the idols of their gods as well. The only reason I could see for doing this was to eradicate the memory of their gods from history. We had no right to perform such a blasphemous act. The gods were there, and it was not up to the soldiers of Argon to decide which ones were to be forgotten.

If I thought it would accomplish anything, I would go to the high commander with my report. I did not think he would listen either. In fact, I was quite sure he would not hesitate to have me killed if he thought I was going to expose to the citizens what the army was really doing. I found it impossible to believe that atrocities such as occurred on my first expedition could go unnoticed by the one man in charge of the entire army of Argon.

Never feeling so conflicted in my life, I went to one of the altars on the shore of the crystal lake in the center of Argon. Asking the Spirit of the Lake for guidance was the only thing I could think of to do. I never actually prayed to the Spirit of the Lake before, so I was not sure if it would listen to my words or not. Either way, I had to try. I could not continue to stand by as innocent people were being slaughtered and their gods systematically erased from the memory of mankind. I could not betray my city either. No matter how much I disagreed with the officials, I swore an oath to stand and defend the city and its allies.

Stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place, I hoped the Spirit of the Lake could provide clarity. On my way I observed a team carrying a covered load out of the sorting facility, and I was sure it was no doubt the wooden idols the expedition commander had the soldiers steal, no doubt on their way to be burned. I was absolutely appalled that they were going to destroy what may be the only representations of those gods, cursing those gods to be lost to the obscurity of man’s past.

I reached the lake and found an altar that did not yet have anyone praying at its base. I got on my knees and bowed my head. I never did this before, so I was not sure how to do it. After considering it for a few minutes, I simply began to talk. I told the Spirit of the Lake what happened and how it made me feel. Regularly checking to see there was no one close or approaching me, I continued with my prayer. I asked the Spirit of the Lake to give me guidance on how I should handle the situation.

I waited once I ran out of things to say, unsure of what was supposed to happen next. I continued to wait, and nothing happened. The gods were notoriously unreliable in terms of listening to the prayers of their followers, so I had no reason to believe the Spirit of the Lake would be any different.

Finally returning to my quarters, I removed my armor and hung it on the stand in the corner. That glorious, impenetrable armor that was a recognized symbol of the city of Argon, and what did it protect. It made trained soldiers invulnerable against the rakes and pitchforks of starving peasants. Making a half-successful attempt to put those thoughts out of my mind, I laid in my small bed and tried to get some sleep.

I was plagued with nightmares all through the night. I stood on the shore of the lake watching boat after boat filled with the ashes of burned idols. They carried the ashes to the far side of the lake and dumped the ashes into the water. Ghostly spectres swirled around each ship until the ashes were deposited into the water. At this point, the ethereal forms themselves sank into the water.

I do not know how, probably because it was a dream, I could feel the Spirit of the Lake grow angrier each time the souls of the idols absorbed into it.

As I stood on the shore and observed the surreal scene playing out in front of me, I watched the last of the boats unloading the spirits of those needlessly destroyed idols. The boats were not returning to shore, but rather sailing up the hill and into the sky. Suddenly the water began to heave as if something underneath was trying to break free. The surface began to boil as a giant, oozing black mass rose from the center of the lake.

The darkness began to spread across the water and up the shores on all sides. It continued to creep up the hills until it reached the walls of the city. Engulfing everything in its path as it made its advance, for some reason the black sludge left me untouched.

I could hear the people of the city screaming as the dark slime enveloped their bodies melting them away almost instantly. Horns sounded from all directions warning the population of the deadly threat, and people fled to the massive doors. They were too late, and the flowing darkness consumed them all.

As appalled by the whole thing as I was, I continued to stand there doing nothing. Once the flowing ooze reached the height of the city walls, it stopped its advance and began to retreat back into the once crystal-clear waters of the lake. When the water once again settled to be smooth as glass, I awoke from the terrifying dream.

My first reaction was to jump up and run to the small window in my quarters, lean out and take a good look at the lake. A shudder passed through my body as I saw a crew loading ashes into a boat. It was only one boat, and not a whole string of them as in my dream, but it still brought that strange image clearly back to mind. I wanted to run down to the pier and tell the men to stop, but I know that would only make me appear crazy.

It was only a dream, but was it really?

Never in my life have I had a dream so extremely vivid that I could remember in full after waking. I did not think it could be a coincidence that I went down to the lake to pray only hours before having such a disturbing dream. Not one time in my life did I ever go down to the lake to pray, and the one time I did I seem to have had some prophetic vision. Nearly in a panic, I tried to figure out what I should do. I could think of nothing.

I knew I could not get anyone to listen to me if I tried to explain my dream to them. If someone came to me and tried to get me to leave the city because they had a bad dream, I would probably have them put somewhere they could be safe from themselves. That would probably be the same reaction if I ran through the streets yelling for people to flee the city because the Spirit of the Lake was angry.

Being the commander of an elite fighting unit, I was aware of secret tunnels exiting the city of which most others were unaware. I knew of many tunnels, but only a few people in the city knew of all of them. I did not want to abandon my city, but there must be some reason the black oozing mass did not wrap around me and melt me as it did the others.

Could the Spirit of the Lake be giving me a chance to flee an impending doom? Why did it choose me to warn out of all the people in the city?

Surely there had to be people more worthy of survival than me. If I fled the city, and my dream turned out to be nothing more than a dream, I could be brought up on charges of treason and desertion. If my dream was indeed a warning from the Spirit of the Lake, then I believed staying here would mean my death along with everyone else.

Anxiety caused my hands to tremble the longer I took to make up my mind. My mind and my heart were both telling me to listen to the dream the Spirit of the Lake sent me. The gods may not list to everyone’s prayers all the time, but maybe our god listened to me this time. Finally, I could take it no longer and I got myself dressed in my gleaming armor. Taking my bardiche from where it hung on the wall, I headed for one of the nearby hidden tunnels.

Being careful not be seen, I slipped through a narrow alleyway and into a small cubby. There located on the ground was a switch disguised as a crack in one of the foundation stones. Pulling the lever, the back wall of the cubby opened up to reveal a tunnel hidden between the tenements. Taking one last look around, I slipped into the hidden passage and shut the door behind me.

I followed the corridor as it winded through the adjoined buildings until it finally joined with a natural cavern in the stone of the mountain. That was where I was when I heard the screaming begin. Horns blew throughout the city, drowning out the cries of the people as they tried to flee the fury of the lake. Knowing there was nothing I could do to help anyone, I increased my pace and got away from the city as fast as I could. The screams of the doomed souls inside the city echoed through my head over and over even after I exited the tunnel and could no longer hear them.

I was not sure if I could not hear them because of the city’s walls, or if I could not hear anyone because they were all dead, as in my dream. I wondered when I could go back in, if I could ever go back into the city of Argon. After leaving everyone behind, I did not know if I had any right to reenter the city.

As I stood there in a state of shock, I watched as a small flock of birds flew over the pristine granite city walls. They made it perhaps fifty feet past the wall when they suddenly began to fall right out of the sky. It was like the air of Argon became poisonous. Not even birds flying over the city could survive.

In its wrath, the Spirit of the Lake made the very air of Argon toxic to life. I knew at this point I would not be able to reenter the city any time soon, if I was ever able to reenter. The reality of the situation still had not caught up with me as it all seemed so impossible. Argon, the city that remained a shining beacon in the mountains for centuries, was wiped out in less than twenty minutes.

I do not know why the Spirit of the Lake spared my life. Perhaps it was because I questioned the acts and motives of the city’s rulership. Perhaps it was because I refused to allow my unit to be a part of the slaughter of those poor people past Drawnbrass. Whatever its reason was for warning me, the Spirit of the Lake left me as the sole survivor of the once majestic city of Argon. With all of its riches now guarded by air that even kills birds soaring above the city, no one would ever again look upon that majestic city surrounding that crystal lake in the mountains.

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