NaNorWriMo 2009: The Oneironauts

The Oneironauts

Chapter 1



         “I tell you, if wizards don’t begin moderating their magic use, global warming will ruin us all,” said the stout greasy man on the stage. His face was wrinkled like gnarled tree roots. White hair fell to his shoulders and over one hollow eye.

         “Ah, shut up!” bellowed an old steel worker. Various other growls of dissent filled the room. A clay mug flew through the air, spinning top over bottom, the last few foamy drops of ale sprinkling the face of a raucous coal miner, who rattled the table with his fist, roaring with laughter. The mug crashed into the wall behind the white-haired man.

         “I’ve done research!” he said, “For ten years! I have proof!”

         “And what the blarney hell does that have to do with us? Go whine to the wizards. You’re on the wrong side of town old fart!”

         “Bloody shut up already,” muttered a man sitting in the far back of the tavern. The candle light barely pulled his figure out of the shadow. He spoke only to himself, as he sat alone with downcast eyes. He pulled a vile of swirling green liquid out of his draping brown cloak. He carefully unscrewed the cap, and turned it to let the smallest drop fall into his drink. He looked up to see if anyone was watching. He didn’t expect anyone, as he was merely a shadow in that dim lit corner of the room, but sure enough he met the eyes of a most unusual figure.

         A woman had just entered the shop, scantily clad in thick, fur armor. She carried a large sword slung over her back, and a mysterious air. Upon her entrance several drunken men in the room roared in approval, calling for the young ma’am to join them at their sport. But she ignored the calls, fully oblivious. Her eyes met with the man’s in the back corner, who hastily stowed his green vial back in his pocket, praying that she hadn’t seen it. To his dismay, the beautiful woman walked straight in his direction, with a wry smile.

         As she approached the table the other men in the room watched on, still yelling profanities, frustrated that some antisocial drunk would win the presence of the half-dressed beauty. They soon fell back to their insobriety. Upon reaching the table the woman said, “You are not stealthy man. You must share.” Her accent was rich and provoking, something that the man was only vaguely familiar with.

         “Share what?” he said. His face still turned down and cast in shadow.

         “Don’t be a fool,” she said, “I get drink.” The woman turned around, “Servant!” she shrieked into the room, her voice a powerful, clean, feminine arrow through the foggy rumble of the tavern. A bar made immediately hustled to the table. The young girl in the dirty dress eyed the exotic beauty with awe, uncertain what to think.

         “Yes, what can I get for you, ma’am?”

         “Get me beer. Quickly.” The girl took one quick glance at the shadowy man before hurrying away. The woman removed her pack and sword to lean them against the table. “What is your profession, old man?”

         “I’m not an old man,” he grumbled.

         “Then move in light. I cannot see you.”

         “No.”

         “Here, I help, old man.” She pushed her chair back, moved her things and then yanked the table forward with a splintery screech. The man snatched his drink to stop it from spilling, taking a jealous sip from it and still refusing to move. He now sat isolated in the dark corner. The table a good three feet away from him. “Come now,” she said.

         “No. I came here to get drunk alone. Leave me. I don’t want your company, nor do I have anything to share.”

         “Tsk, tsk, old man. You want the guard to know that you are selfish man? Maybe they make you share.”

         “Don’t threaten me woman. You don’t even know how old I am, let alone a name to give the guard. I’m not moving. You are giving my table back and leaving me be.” He drank again from his cup. He made a “blurr” sound as he shook his head, consuming the bitter substance.

         “I wait,” she said, then continued to sit staring straight ahead at the shadowy man who refused to move. He didn’t so much as look at her once, instead focused entirely on his drink. The candlelight flickered on the woman’s smooth skin. She was tall and slender, dirty blonde hair fell to just beneath her neck. Her face was tall and strong. It had a proud, stern beauty to it. Her presence was a shocking contrast to the dingy bar. The folk here were round and soft. Their pride was not for strength or beauty, but instead for stink and boldness, a rationale to be the animals they were.

         The maid arrived with the drink.

         “You take too long,” said the foreigner.

         “S-Sorry ma’am,” said the maid

         “You tell me now. Who is he?” The woman pointed at the man sitting table-less in the corner.

         “Th-that is Nivek ma’am. He’s owns a potion shop.”

         “Does he come here often?”

         “Every day, ma’am.”

         “Does anyone like him?”

         “Umm,” she leaned in closer, “No, not really ma’am, he’s a drunk.”

         “Ha!” said the woman. “That is all.”

         The girl again scurried away.

         “See, old man. I do not need to see your face. Come here and share. Now.”

         Grumbling the man rose to his feet, he took two drunken steps towards the woman, then fell forward, slamming his mug and fist on the table. His face shown clear now. He was a handsome man in his twenties, with thick, curling black hair. His expression, however, was twisted in a detestable scowl, and the creases in his face were lined with dirt. “Woman,” he slurred, “You are a low creature yourself. I doubt you even have the stomach for this stuff.” He rose straight, leaving his mug on the table, eyeing her sideways. “What is your name?”

         “Lorelai, I come just today from Aissur.”

         “Aissur…” Nivek mumbled as he turned around to retrieve his chair. He slammed it noisily down by the table and sat again. “Why are you here?”

         “I tell you later. Give me the razcha.”

         “Not so loud,” hissed Nivek. He reached deep into his cloak and retrieved the swirling green liquid. He held it concealed in his fist, leaning across the table. “Now, take only a single drop of this stuff. You won’t be walking for a full hour.”

         “I know razcha,” she said, snatching it from him. She opened the vile and tilted it ever-so-slightly, such that a single drop fell into the mug. She closed it and returned his property. Nivek again eyed the room suspiciously as he returned the vial to his cloak. This time he was safe.

         Lorelai took a swig from her mug with a grimace. “Just what I needed.”

         “Hah. The only way someone needs razcha, is if they feel like they need to die. What are you running from in Aissur?”

         “I do not run from anything.”

         “Liar. What attractive foreign woman with a sword walks into Garb’s tavern at eight at night that ain’t running from something?

         “I was looking for a drink.”

         “Well, anyone who takes razcha must be tryin’ to forget something. Cuz, this shit ain’t helping your memory any. Ha ha!” The deep lines in Nivek’s face made him expressive, and his wicked grin now was as frightening as they come. His eyes shown glossy insanity.

         “Then what do you try to forget, Nivek?”

         He leaned back in his chair no longer smiling. “I don’t remember.” Then he spit on the ground.

         “Here here old man! What are you running from?”

         He leaned forward again, the corners of his mouth turned far down. “I’ll tell you what I’m forgetting missy.” He threw his arms open wide to the room. “This! This is the garbage I want to forget!” He pulled back his arms and leaned in especially close. “But I’ll tell you, there’s no way out! I own a potion shop. All I know are potions. I can barely get by! No one here likes me, and I sure as hell don’t like them. I’d move on, I would! I’d get out of this shithole part of town. But I can’t! There’s no way out. I don’t have any money. No friends. No bloody social mobility round here. Bourn a poor potions master, I’ll sure as hell die one. But in the mean time!” He sat back with his wicked grin again. “In the mean time I’m going to forget the whole bloody mess, and dream I’m a wealthy merchant in Alcatant! Hah!” And Nivek finished his spiked beer in one massive swallow, still grinning.

         “You think you have problems, old man!” said Lorelai, slamming her mug on the table. “I just come from Aissur. My home for twenty year. And what they do? They run me out! They run me out the bastards! I serve my country. I fight for them. I am good warrior. Kill many demons. But that means nothing to their prejudice scum.”

         “So?”

         “So what, asshole! I am pissed. I have no home.”

         “Why,” he drew out the word, “did they run you out? Hm? You kill someone? You steal something? Sleep with married men?”

         “No!”

         “Then what?”

         “I…” She paused, her powerful face looking down into her beer. “I sleep with king’s daughter.”

         Silence from both parties. Nivek’s face twisted into a question mark.

         “Sooo…” he said, drawing the word out long again.

         “So I am lesbian! Stop staring like that! Stop now!”

         “And you slept with the princess?”

         “Yes.”

         “Bah,” Nivek started, his chest moving up and down, “Bah, ha! Ha haha ha!” Nivek was soon rolling with laughter. Tears made lines on his dirty face.

         “Stop! Stop it now! I am not funny. I am serious. Do you hate me too? Bastard! Stop laughing!”

         “Sorry, sorry,” he said between heaves. “It’s just too much.” His laughing slowed down to a stop. Lorelai sat seething with anger. Nivek finally looked at her seriously enough to realize that he may be in some danger. The woman was fierce looking, and furious. At any moment her boiling blood could bring her to take up her sword and slash him in two. He tried to explain. “I’m sorry, so sorry, really I am. I don’t have any problem with it, it’s just, the last thing I would have expected. You wear armor that covers only half your skin. Most of the men in here probably think your some kind of stripper. They all want you. And then you slept with the king’s daughter. What! That the princess was a lesbian too, it’s too much! Think how surprised the king must have been! That just hardly makes sense. The whole situation is just so… so ironic.”

         Lorelai now looked slightly less angry, but still unhappy.

         “We were in love,” she said.

         “I don’t doubt it.”

         “You don’t have problem with that? It does not offend you?”

         “No. Although, Just remember that I hate everyone. Including myself and you. So you shouldn’t be offended when I say that I don’t like you. Just for no particular reason at all.”

         “I am not offended.”

         “Good,” said Nivek. “We understand each other.”

         “Yes, we understand.”

         They each sat back now, somewhat content at the result of their conversation. Lorelai continued to swallow her drink with a grimace. Nivek stared at the bottom of his empty pottery, deciding whether or not to yell for the bar maid.

         With no warning the door to the tavern was thrown open and a colorfully adorned man with a large hat addressed the room.

         “To all you good men of Zeraia. I bring a message from the distant city of Alcatant. It has been my duty to travel from tavern to tavern across the country to inform all, of our city’s plight. A vicious dragon has set out to plague our people. It burns our farms, crops, and factories. The city is helpless to stop it. Our bravest men and wizards have failed, as the beast is impervious to magic. I ask you all to spread the word; that we are in need of a hero. Whoever can free Alcatant of this horrible demon will be rewarded with wealth and respect. A royal title even. So please, spread the word. And to any who wish to aid us, make haste. Thank you, men, and farewell.”

         The man in the funny clothes then disappeared back outside. He left behind him a room of puzzled silence.

         “Do dragon’s even exist?” Whispered one man.

         “I thought they were just a myth.”

         And the muttering continued, growing steadily back to the raucous hustle and bustle that was a Friday evening at Garb’s tavern.

         The potions master and the Aissuran warrior sat drinking at their table. Nivek stared at the ceiling, having nothing to say, and sniffed the sweaty, alcohol filled air. He had ordered a new drink, and took a healthy swallow.

         “I will do it,” said Lorelai in her rich accent.

         Nivek, with his head still tilted to the ceiling, lowered his eyes to the woman. “Oh really?”

         “Yes. I have nothing to lose. I will fight the dragon.”

         “Hmph.”

         “And beside, there might be sexy princess for me to save. Haha!”

         Nivek eyed her dubiously. “You’re joking right?”

         “No. I do not joke. I go to Alcatant.”

         “But that’s past the Martician Mountains. That’s a month’s journey at least. And you know it’s garbage. Dragon’s don’t exist.”

         “I do not care. It is better than this shithole.”

         “Ha! Well you got that much right. But you still can’t travel without money. You need food. Supplies. And if you actually make it there you’ll probably just end up a beggar. Because there will be no dragon.”

         “What do you know, miserable old man? Go swallow your razcha whole. End your misery.”

         “How much money do you actually have?” Nivek scrunched his eyebrows inquisitively.

         “Twenty-four. Enough for two weeks food.”

         “I suppose that’s not half bad. You could always hunt for the rest. Ask cottagers for shelter.” Nivek began stroking his chin and staring at the ceiling. “You probably need a place to sleep tonight, rather than waste money on an Inn.”

         “That would be helpful, yes.”

         “Fine. Stay at may shop, as long as you don’t mind a little dirt. But…” He grinned. “You have to take me with you.”

         “Ha! Take you? No. Not worth the food. You are dirty potions master. I do not want you. You can not even make potions on journey without pots. Useless. I sleep in tavern.”

         “Wait! Wait!” Nivek still smiled. He leaned in close again. She scrunched her nose at his sour breath. “There is something I have not told you.”

         “What?”

         “I am an oneironaut.”

         “I have heard of that. You see the future?”

         “No. Not the future. I can see answers though. I can dream, and in my dreams I can find the solutions to difficult problems, or directions when lost. Not the future. But I can see things that can not normally be seen. If you bring along an oneironaut, if your quest is possible, it will be successful.”

         “How do I know you are not lying?”

         Nivek thought for a moment. “I will tell you exactly how much your sword and armor cost to buy.”

         “Fine. Do it.”

         “Patience. I can’t do it know. I must dream, so I must fall asleep. I will do it once we are back at my home.”

         “You better be as useful as you say you are. And you better not be drunk while traveling.”

         “That,” he said, “I cannot guarantee.”



         Outside the city of Zeraia glowed with quiet torchlight. Darkness brought the day’s motion to a muffled crawl. The most noise came from the bars and taverns, but beyond their doors a cool breeze swept away all pungent smells and sounds. Nivek led Lorelai back to his shop and the small abode tucked behind it. The entire space void the bed and a chair was coated in vials of every chemical and substance known to man. This alchemical medley gave the building an aroma so unusual that at first Lorelai did not even notice it was there, but after five minutes it was impossible not be aware of that alien odor.

         “You live like pig, old man.”

         Nivek grumbled as he pulled a long fur out of the bottom of a pile of pots. The jostling of the metal-ware filled the night with a tumult of unwelcome sound.

         “Here,” he said, thrusting the dust-heavy fur at Lorelai, “you can either sleep in my room here or up in the store front, where it’s colder.”

         She snatched it from him. “I sleep there,” she said with a high chin. But before walking to lay her bed she looked at Nivek, “How much did I pay for sword and armor?”

         “Fine. Give me ten minutes. Go set up your bed and wait. I’m going to fall asleep. Don’t steel anything.”

         “So many vials! How do I even know what is worth stealing?”

         “Quiet,” said Nivek. He settled into his own bed, muttering words as he drifted off into sleep. Almost immediately Nivek had entered into his lucid dream. His mouth still moved, though made no sound, and behind his lids his eyes fluttered side to side. In the other room the warrior woman beat the dust out of her bedding before laying it on the cold ground. She then sat down on it, adopting a vacant stare as her mind drifted to distant thoughts.

         Later, Nivek moaned as he stirred to his feet. He shuffled to the doorway of the store and knocked his fist against the wood. Lorelai broke from her own trance and looked up at Nivek, his head hanging, black locks draping over his face, eyes half closed, barely standing. He said with a voice heavily slurred, “Sword… a hundred gold. Espensive thing. The armor… not bought. Traded. Ten minotaur horns for each the chest-peace and the legs, five imp skulls for each the helm, gloves, and boots. Now I sleep for good. That beer…” Nivek turned around without waiting for a response. He dragged his feet off to his bed, grunting as he collapsed on his hay-stuffed mattress.

         “I don’t believe it,” said Lorelai. She lay down on her fur, staring at the ill-patched ceiling. Nivek began snoring in the other room. The wheels of a cart crunched over the dirt nearby. “If there is a dragon, we will certainly find it.”



Chapter 2



Ten o’clock the following morning Nivek and Lorelai stood at the gates of Zeraia, a long road before them. In the morning light they had walked the city shops and loaded on bread and dried meat. Nivek wore his large, heavy brown cloak. He was really a thin man, but in the bulk of his clothing it was impossible to tell. He loaded his personage with as many bottles and vials and flasks as he could manage. If it weren’t for his careful wrapping in cloth of each item, he would certainly have clinked and rattled with every step. During his lengthy process of stuffing himself that dawn, Lorelai had warned him that traveling would be difficult, and that he would certainly regret it. Nivek simply returned that she would be grateful for him when the time came. And the matter was left at that.

         Lorelai on the other hand stood ready with her less-then-covering set of armor. Her stomach was exposed, as was her lower legs and arms. Certainly, it was very attractive, but Nivek wondered greatly as to the armor’s effectiveness. Nivek also wondered who the woman was really trying to attract.

         “Oh I’d bang her,” said Lorelai.

         Nivek swung his head and blinked his eyes, “What?”

         “Her, ten o’clock. Very nice.” Nivek turned to her directions, and indeed there was what looked to be a royally dressed woman, flushed from running, frantically searching and asking passersby for information.

         “What?” He repeated. They both stared at the woman until she hurried off out of sight. Then Nivek turned back around, sighed, and said, “Are you ready? Do we have everything?”

         “Hm? Yes. I am ready.”

         They continued to stand with the road in front of them. Nivek stared out over the rolling hills. The road turned into a wooden bridge not far on, and just past that it crossed through three farm buildings. Beyond that the road disappeared into the majestic Martician Mountains, guarding the horizon like kneeling giants.

         “Start walking!” From out of nowhere there was a hooded man in a fine cloak pushing Nivek and Lorelai forward. Lorelai immediately lept forward and put a hand on her sword.

         “Back away!” She said.

         The man immediately did just that, removing his hood and clasping his hands together. His face was young and clean. The top of his head was covered in thick curly blond hair, held up by a round chin and a thin neck. “No! No! I didn’t mean… no, just please…”

         “Come Nivek! We go now.”

         Nivek threw his head back and forth between the two, stepping forward with every glance, until he was hiding behind Lorelai. She maintained an iron glare on the man, still and tense, arm arched up to pull the sword strapped on her back.

         “Wait! Before she finds me, I just want to walk with you. Let me walk with you! Please! Hurry!” His hands were clasped as if begging, but at the same time he was rubbing and grinding them with anxiety. He glanced behind him every five seconds, clearly in some kind of trouble.

         “I don’t like this,” said Lorelai. She lowered her sword arm, deciding this nervous man could be no threat.

         “Just – just, walk forward, and I’ll walk behind you. No big deal. But hurry!”

         Lorelai frowned. “I not turn my back to you.”

         The man started to panic, looking around for another party to tag along with. But no one else was on the road out of the city. “Please…”

         “Walk in front of me. Now.”

         His face lit up. “Yes! Bless you!” The young man threw up his hood and ran in front of her. Nivek, meanwhile, stood frowning. Lorelai then turned around and the pair began following the young man.

         He turned and said, “Follow closely please, like I’m one of you.”

         “I do as I like,” replied Lorelai.

         They marched forward. Dirt crunched under foot and the breeze threw dust in the air. The sun shine brightly, a fine day to start a quest. The young man slowed his step so he would move in close them and appear like one of the group, but Lorelai’s response was simply to shove him forward. This served quite the opposite to his purpose and caused the poor man to appear like some kind mistreated slave or servant.

         “Hey,” he whispered, “hey, could one of you two look behind us. Tell me, is there a woman about in a blue dress?”

         “No,” said Lorelai. She simply refused to look, but Nivek, curious, glanced behind.

         “Why, yes. Yes there is. She’s standing at the gate, looking out. Looking at us actually.”

         “Yak!” cried the man, giving a little jump. “Walk close to me! Don’t let her see me!”

         “Lorelai, it’s that same woman from before,” said Nivek, not much concerned with their new friend’s plight.

         “Really?” Lorelai looked behind her now, still walking forward. “Cute face that one. Need to get that dress off her. Show some figure. I bet her ass is great.”

         Nivek raised an eyebrow at the Aissuran and kept walking.

         “What did you just say? That’s my fiancée. Aren’t you a woman? Did she see me? Is she coming?”

         “Shut up little man,” Lorelai was taller than both Nivek and the stranger, “You see her naked?”

         “Are you serious!”

         “I could throw a smoke grenade if you’d like,” said Nivek.

         “What!” yelped the young man, “Are you two out of your minds?”

         “Christ, you whiny little bastard, just trying to help,” said Nivek, “And no, she’s staring at us, and this weirdo here is staring back, but I don’t think she’s gonna do anything. We’re getting too far away now anyway.”

         “Oh, please God, please, walk faster, walk faster,” said the young man.

         “No,” was Lorelai’s stolid reply.

         “Calm yourself,” said Nivek, “Look, there, there she goes. Back into town, dragging her heels a bit.”

         “Thank the lord!” said the man.

         The trio then marched onward in silence. Soon they were crossing the bridge that marked the boundary of Zeraia. They were in Gutaph country now, a land of wide fields and rolling hills, the occasional cottage and a massive amount of nothing. No one changed positions in their parade, the young man silently led the pack with no comment as to his somewhat unwelcome presence in their entourage. Lorelai seemed to have much discredited him now, deeming him no more threat than a simple house pet.

         Nivek, becoming rather board and uncomfortable with the situation, reached into the one of the many pockets of his cloak and retrieved a small vial of black liquid.

         “No,” said Lorelai, “You not get drunk after only ten minutes.”

         “Hey! I’ll do as I please. And no, I’m not getting drunk. This isn’t alcohol. Just something to lighten my step a bit.” And before any more protest could be made, he gave the vial a shake, uncorked it, sucked the black liquid off the cork, and then returned the cork to the vial to the cloak.

         “You are vile man.”

         “Hah! And what? You’re noble and elegant? An honorable warrior? You’re as raw as they come! You make ruder comments about women than I do.”

         “Don’t insult me, old man.”

         “I’m thirty-six.”

         “I don’t care.”

         It was then that the man breaking trail for them sneezed. It was a light, feathery sneeze. This drew the other two’s attention to him, after a long period of mutually accepted ignorance. Nivek was already well riled up by the obstinacy of his other companion.

         “And who in the bloody hell are you?” said the oneironaut.

         The man stumbled a bit and turned his head, sputtering “me?”

         “Yes, you! And take that damn hood off. There’s no one else on this road gives a horses ass who you are.”

         He tossed his hood back and began to walk sideways so he could face his prosecutors. “My name is Sir Eliot?”

         “Sir Eliot?” said Nivek.

        “I’m the kings nephew.”

         “You? Hah!” said Lorelai.

         “No,” said Nivek, “you know, I’m not even surprised. I’ve known all along that the nobility were just a bunch of snobbish, sniveling, glass puppets of people. Have any grit in ya boy? Huh? Huh?” Nivek pushed his scowl up inches away from Eliot’s whimper. The disgruntled potions master held his position for as longas he could, then shrank back to his place in the pack. “How far do you plan on forcing your peevish self upon us, Sir-Mighty-Lovely-Royal-Eliot?”

         “I…” He stopped and faced forward again, tracing the ground with his eyes. “Well, I…”

         “Spit up boy,” said Lorelai.

         “I was thinking, you understand, if it’s not a hindrance, or you think I’ll slow you down in any way, I don’t want to do that, but if it’s not too much trouble I’d like to go as far as you’re going, if you don’t mind.”

         Lorelai and Nivek burst into laughter and stopped walking.

         “Oh lord,” said Nivek, catching his breathe.

         “Puny prince boy,” said Lorelai, wiping her eyes.

         Eliot stood with his mouth half open, his eyes looked wounded, and he took a half-step backward, unsure if he should just leave now.

         “Ha, wah… well. Eliot, boy, you really think we have half the food or patience we would need to take you to,” he paused for effect, “Alcatant!” And He and Lorelai burst into another round of laughter.

         “But…” said Eliot, “But… hey, wait.”

         He could only sputter interjections until they had cooled again.

         “I want to go to Alcatant,” he said.

         “You want to go to Alcatant?” said Lorelai. “But are you not noble in Zeraia?”

         “Yes, I am. But I don’t want to be anymore. I’m running away.”

         “Running away? Stupid boy!” Lorelai went as far as to flick him in the forehead. “Do you not have sexy fiancée? Do you not have money and respect? Wait, no I change the last one. You probably had no respect! Hah hah! But seriously. You are mental idiot. You rather be like him?” Lorelai pointed at Nivek.

         “Yeah, I won’t even disagree with that one. You may be a little bitch, but why don’t you come down and live in the filth beneath your castle for a few days?” He snorted.

         “Well I’m not going back,” said Eliot, “I want a new life away from… them. And her.”

         “Well,” said Nivek, “I wish you luck, boy, I really do, but there’s no way in hell we’re gonna be pulling your dead weight all the way to Alcatant.”

         “Wait, wait. Before you make up your mind…” Eliot reached into his cloak and pulled out a jangling sack. “I have one platinum and thirty-eight gold pieces.”

         It took a moment for their eyes to grow wide enough to take it all in.

         “Welcome to the team, boy,” said Nivek.

         “Let me see it,” Lorelai snatched the bag from his hands and ran her hand though it.

         Eliot spoke to Nivek. “And you don’t need to lug me along. I’m not useless. I can hunt, and, perhaps most importantly, having royal teachers has its advantages, I can heal.”

         “Heal? You’re a doctor?”

         “Better. I can use healing magic.”

         “Really?” said Nivek.

         “If your puniness isn’t too annoying, this could work out very good,” said Lorelai.

         “Thank you! Thank you! I promise, I will be very helpful. I won’t hold you back.”

         “Whatever, boy. This is helpful,” Lorelai said of the sack of change as she tossed it back to him. “Come. Let’s go.”

         The oneironaut, the warrior, and the healer resumed their quest, this time in a line of three, shoulder to shoulder, Eliot sandwiched in the middle. The city fell away behind them, obscured more with every step. The three left behind their pasts. The poverty. The responsibility. In a leap of faith, both brave and desperate, the three heroes sought destiny in the unknown. In the unknown lies ones greatest fears, but also perhaps the means to ultimate happiness. When there was one city, there was another, and where there was misery, there was a dragon to slay. A dragon, fierce and reptilian, sleeping lightly at the gate of one’s dreams.

         “By the way, Eliot,” said Nivek, “I don’t suppose you know why we’re going to Alcatant?”

         “I won’t pry. Your business is your own.”

         “Hah, well, you’re too polite for your own good. Cuz you should probably know this, we’re going to slay a dragon.”

         “Hawah?” Splurted Eliot.

         “There’s a dragon wrecking the city, and there’s a reward to slay it. So we’re going to slay it.”

         “Dragons don’t exist,” said Eliot.

         “Apparently they do.”

         “But they don’t.”

         “Well then, we’re fucked. But I tell you, if I’m traveling hundreds of miles to kill something, dragon or not, I’m gonna goddam kill something when I get there. Maybe even myself too. Have the ultimate dream.”

         “Oh, great,” said Lorelai, “so I have to deal with drunk and suicidal.”

         “What is that accent you have, ma’am?”

         “My name is Lorelai, I am from Aissur.”

         “Aissur… very far away.”

         “Yes, very far.”

         He didn’t ask any further, but instead tried to catch Nivek’s eye.

         “Yeah, yeah, boy. My name is Nivek. I’m a child of your uncle’s beautiful city.” He then released a slippery fart. “I sell potions, and I read dreams.”

         “An oneironaut?”

         “Yes, exactly. You know what I do?”

         “Yeah, there’s an old man in the castle who does that. I never talked to him though. I hear he can control his dreams, and have whatever he wants.”

         Nivek began to grin. “That’s exactly right boy. When I close my eyes I have every beautiful woman in the world. When I close my eyes I have feasts that satisfy me without filling me, I can gorge on the finest delicacies. I can fly. I can torture those who spite me. I can do anything. So much so… that sometimes I think that this is the dream,” he said, sweeping the horizon with his hand. “But don’t get me wrong. It has it’s mystical uses as well. I can learn things, information that a man could never know without the aid of the dream world.”

         “Sounds wonderful.”

         “Until I wake up it is, until I wake up.” Nivek trailed off somberly.

         “So why do you want to kill a dragon?”

         “Nivek looked up. “Wheren’t you listening kid?” He pulled a black vile out of his cloak again. “Because I wake up.”





Chapter 3



That night the trio set camp at the base of a lonesome tree. The only tall plant in sight for miles in every direction. A storm rumbled behind them, just past the city, but fortunately it never drew close. The night was chill. It was becoming colder and colder every day. Winter fast approached. Lorelai projected that they would make through the mountains just two weeks before the first snow fall. It would be close. Small creatures of the field rustled in the dark, darting through the tall windswept grass. In the sky, sharp-eyed birds circled with intent.

         Nivek mumbled in his sleep, deep in his world of dreams. Lorelai lay in tense silence. She slept, yet to the casual eye she looked far from relaxed, her sword near at hand. Eliot slept like a baby, rather surprising for someone accustomed to the feather beds of the Zeraian castle.

         The following morning Lorelai and Eliot woke to find Eliot already gone.

         “Pockets. Check pockets,” said Lorelai.

         “Wuh?” Nivek had barely gained his senses, trying desperately to cling to the wonderful world of imagination that was melting away.

         “Check. He stole nothing. Do not worry.”

         “Worry?”Nivek sat up against the base of the tree. He looked up, watching the morning light filtered through its branches. “Nice tree.”

         “What?”

         Nivek didn’t answer.

         “Where is the boy? We need to go. I want his money.”

         “It’s too early to be greedy,” mumbled Nivek.

         “There. I see him.”

         “Where?”

         “There,” Lorelai pointed, “far away on field, walk this way.”

         “Ah, yes. I see him. Wonder what he was doing.”

         Sir Eliot shuffled back through the long grass, the sun still low in the sky on his right. He wasn’t wearing his cloak, it sat piled up beneath the tree, and it was now plain that he wore light blue clothing, finely embroidered by the castle seamstresses. He was a fine specimen with his golden hair. They may have called him a boy, but he was more or less in his early twenties. Well ready to be married, or one would think. A small bow and quiver of arrows was strapped to his back, so tiny that if in other context it could be mistaken for a child’s. Nonetheless, it had been well-concealed beneath his dark-blue cloak. It took several minutes of waiting, during which Lorelai began to fidget, taking a hunting knife and slicing bark off the tree. Nivek watched with irritation, but said nothing.

         Upon his return Eliot was smiling brightly. “Twenty-three,” he said, “I killed twenty-three this morning.”

         “What the hell did you kill twenty three of?” asked Nivek.

         “Plains Cats.”

         “What? That’s ridiculous? And where are they?”

         “I left em where I shot em.”

         “Lord, you didn’t even take some meat.”

         “Nah. Not worth the effort. I just do it for sport and practice.”

         “But why twenty-three?” Asked Lorelai. “That must have taken hours. You just woke up and spent hours killing the same animal the exact same way, for no real reason, again, and again, and again?”

         “Well, sounds terrible when you put it that way, but yes. I’m getting pretty good with this bow, want to see?”

         “No,” she said, “We go now.”

         “But wait, wait, one more thing.”

         “What? What is it?”

         “Well, when I was out there, I actually happened to run across a guy who was walking by in the night.

         “What?” said Lorelai, “Who? What was he doing?”

         “Well he said…”

         “You talk to him?”

         “Yes, as I was saying, he mentioned a dragon in Alcatant. The same one you two were talking about I think.”

         “What?” said Nivek, “Well I suppose it makes sense that we weren’t the only ones to answer the call. That funny clothed messenger said he visited all the taverns in the area.”

         “Yeah, but who leaves everything they have to kill a creature that obviously doesn’t exist,” said Eliot, who chuckled a little, but tightened his lips when he saw the hard eyes of his companions.

         “We have competition then,” said Lorelai.

         “Well crush em into the dirt!” said Nivek.

         “But,” said Eliot, “Remember he has a bit of a lead. He was traveling in the night.”

         “Well, if you so energetic for hunt all night, then maybe we should travel too,” said Lorelai.

         “Well I don’t know about that,” said Nivek, “But we should certainly get traveling now.”

         “Agreed,” said Lorelai.

         “Right then,” said Eliot, “I’ll get my things.”



The remainder of the morning passed peacefully. They walked past the fields of grass and on through fields of crops and grazing brahman. Talk was slow. The others quickly learned that Lorelai liked to keep things strictly business, unless it involved women. Then the situation often got out of hand. Nivek on the other hand was content with day dream and fiddling with the vials in his pockets. Every hour or so he would suck the black liquid off of the cork again. If it drugged him in anyway, it was too difficult to tell. And no one felt inclined to ask what exactly that black potion was. Lorelai assumed the worst. Eliot’s demeanor was quite the opposite of his companions. He seemed to be almost constantly cheery, throwing out comments like, “Holy cow!” remarking at all of the cattle on the fields, or “Head in the clouds Nivek?” or “God, I wish I was a horse. Or a cheetah. Or a bird. No, a giant bird.”

         He didn’t push it too much, but neither did he stop, because he decided that the lack of any rude jabs about shutting his mouth was somewhat encouragement.

         Eliot was just in the middle of saying, “Gee, you know what I’d be doing in the castle right…” when Lorelai silenced with “Shh!” and a finger to his lips. They all froze.

         “Look,” she said, “the man.”

         Indeed, in the yonder distance a shady individual garbed in black walked along at a casual pace in the direction of the mountains. He was to the right, well off the road that they traveled. He looked to be killing the brahman as he walked past them, slicing or stabbing them with a shiny blade.

         “Two question,” said Nivek in a hushed voice, “First, is that the man you talked to last night, Eliot?”

         “Yes, I believe so, although it’s hard to tell from here.”

         “And second, is he doing what I think he’s doing?”

         “Yes,” said Eliot, “I believe he’s training on those Brahman.”

         “So he is ruthless animal hater like you as well?” said Lorelai.

         “What do you mean? I don’t hate animals. I just like hunting and improving my skills. It’s like good exercise.”

         “You are monster. He is monster. Worse monster. Those cows belong to someone.”

         “By my beer,” said Nivek, “I’ve never seen such mindless ruthlessness in my life. Oh, wait I have. It’s your uncle-the-king’s decision to not burn down the black cess pool that is lower Zeraia, and instead leaving it to wallow in its own self perpetuating misery.”

         “For the last time Nivek, I was never close to the King to begin with and now I’ve even gone as far to run away myself. But that’s beside the point. What will we do about him?”

         “Watch him for now,” said Lorelai. She began walking again and the others followed suit.

         Five minutes later Eliot began talking again, “Hey, hey, have either of you ever heard of the mechanical duck that…” and again he was cut off. But this time not by Lorelai.

         An orange fell from the sky and knocked him on the head so hard that he stumbled back and forth like a top running out of spin, and then final tipping over and landing on his ass.

         “What? Woa, woa,” said the others as they attempted to stabilize him and sit him down. Neither had seen the curious incident, as they had been walking in front of him.

         “Oh no…” moaned Eliot, “oh no… too many of you. At least eight. Twelve? Too many, oh lord… orange… concussion… not good…”

         “What in the fiery pits of perdition happened to you?” said Nivek.

         “Bleeding?” said Eliot as he rose an impossible-to-follow arm up to point at what appeared to be the distant horizon to the left. This was of course meaningless, but it did get Lorelai looking around, and she spotted the busted orange lying in the road.

         She picked it up, examined the exploded side, sniffed it, and conjectured “fruit?” She then examined Eliot’s head to find it not matted with blood, but sticky pulp. She stood up and began wandering back and forth, staring up at the sky.

         “This is a fairly serious injury,” said Nivek, “Perhaps I have something for the pain here…” and he began perusing the contents of his clothing near his right hip.

         However, the act was futile, because Eliot shook his head from side to side to clear his vision, swayed back and forth with dizziness, and then placed both hands on his head and made a noise of tremendous effort, “eeeehhhhhhhaaaaahhhhhhhh!” And with that his wrists and fingers lighted up with a bluish glow like that of the moon. The blue light bled from his hands into the top of his head and it shown like a hot stone with hair on the top. With a sigh the light went out and Eliot collapsed onto his back.

         “Bloody hell, look at that.” Nivek hurried to Eliot’s side and checked to find him breathing. “Wake up, lad, can you hear me? What in the cesspit did you do to yourself? You gonna go into a comma or something?”

         Eliot just groaned and turned on his side. “Uhhh, please stop yelling.”

         “Ah cock, what do we do now?” Nivek looked over at Lorelai, who was still examining the orange and the sky. “What are you looking at! Help me figure out what to do with this guy!”

         “The fruit,” she said, “Where? Why? He was hit by fruit.” She tried to hand the orange to him but he declined.

         Then two random strangers walked by along the path, completely ignoring the man on the ground and the orange in the warrior woman’s hand. The couple, a man and woman, both wore robes and simply walked along, chatting quietly with one another. Nivek and Lorelai froze, and stared in awe at the mysterious arrival of these people, too uncertain to utter a word. Once the couple had passed by and trotted on down the road the oneironaut and the warrior looked in the other’s eyes and mouthed, “what?” Still unmoving, Nivek looked down at Eliot, now curled in the fetal position, back at Lorelai, he looked up at the sky, then he looked back at the strangers. Finally he straightened up and hustled to catch up to them, not quite able to run in his laden clothing.

         “Hey, you, excuse me, yes, hello?, look at me, listen, I need to know where you came from, and our friend is in trouble, and orange...”

         The male of the group then turned to Nivek and yelled some unfamiliar word that started with an “N” and they both started running away towards the distant mountains.

         “Bloody shitcakes!”

         Nivek walked back to the group. He tossed his hands in the air. “They just run off! Strangest, rudest thing I have ever witnessed. The asshats. Just yelled something and ran off.”

         “What did they yell?”

         “No bloody clue. New-something. You know what they meets? It Aissuran for something.”

         “Not that I know.”

         Eliot moaned and sat up. “What happened?”

         “Thank god, I thought we’d have to take your money and leave you for dead.”

         “What happened?”

         “Well we were kind of hoping that you could enlighten us on that matter, seeing as from where I’m standing it would seem that a bloody orange fell from the sky and smacked you on the head and gave you a concussion.”

         “That’s as much as I know,” said Eliot, rubbing his head.

         “Stand up,” commanded Lorelai.

         Nivek gave him a hand and yanked the healer to his feet. Eliot was able to stand but took several minutes with his hands on his knees to wait for the world to stop swimming.

         “Okay,” he said, “Allright, good, I’m good. All good. Bright and shiny. Spring as a plaines cat. One I haven’t killed yet. Oh yeah.” Eliot walked in a circle to test himself out.

         “Ready now?” said Lorelai.

         He stretched his arms over his head. “Yup. Let’s go.”

         They started walking, with Eliot in front, just in case.

         “Bloody oranges. Fallen from the sky. What the hell,” muttered Nivek. “What the hell.”

         “Really am glad I know how to heal concussions. Mighty glad.” Eliot seemed back to his peppy self again. “Yup. No orange be stopping me. No way. Sir Eliot is orange-proof. Green proof too! With tough skin against…”

         “Stop!” Lorelai yanked back on Eliot’s hood to halt the party. “Look,” she hissed, “more!”





Due to lame file size limitations, continue reading in part 2, found in my portfolio.