Book 03, Chapter 19
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It was a vast ocean. Or was it a lake? Was it a river so wide that no other side could be seen? Perhaps the entire world was water.
The water. Was it brown? It looked brown. But it wasn’t murky. It didn’t look muddy. It glimmered with a deep low shine.
And what was this sky? It was endless, but felt so close. It shimmered like mercury, but also glowed as though lit from within. Was the sky filled with clouds? Were they even clouds? All along their surface they rippled with concentric circles. There was not a single break in the clouds for all the infinite distance that could be observed.
None of this was real. Drim knew that much. None of this was real because it couldn’t be real.
Drim felt the tepid water lick at his bare feet. He could see his eyes in the dull reflection in front of his toes. He turned swiftly to see her in front of him. She had her back turned, but he felt the exact same chill he had felt before. He could see her face though her back was turned in the way that only made sense in a dream.
It was her. But it couldn’t be. SHE couldn’t be.
“You’re not real,” was the first thing to come out of his mind and lips.
The metallic, gleaming corners of her mouth turned upward.
“Now is no time to discuss existence. I speak to you; accept my insistence. Actuality, no matter how.”
She gestured to a pair of ornate chairs that had materialized. Striding over with alien grace, she sat herself down with matching elegance. She turned her gaze back up to Drim. Her eyes were like a one way mirror, reflecting, yet obscuring.
Again she motioned to the chair in front of her.
“No,” Drim defied. “I’ve had enough of this stupid shit. Wake me up now. Or leave. I need my sleep and I’m not entertaining thi-”
An immense pain shot through his mouth. All of his teeth screeched in agony. His jaw crunched and twisted violently. Drim’s hand reached up to feel what was happening, but paused before reaching it. Then he saw his reflection in the stranger’s reflective face. To his horror, he was met with a solid wall of white bone. His teeth had fused together into a solid mass.
Drim refused to even wince. He refused to show any kind of vulnerability in front of this illusion. Instead he took a large stride backwards.
Then he found himself closer. Much closer.
He was now seated in the chair.
She turned her head slowly from where Drim was to where he sat now. Her smile remained, her gaze unwavering.
Drim tried to stand but could not. Looking down, he saw his limbs had effectively grown into the legs and sides of the chair.
“Excise your fallacy inane. This endless shore is my domain. Dreams be brief; we’ll be concise.”
Her gaze again soaked into Drim. The soft waves caressed his feet. This world had a soft hum to it that you couldn’t unhear after you first noticed it.
“Odd indeed, you would feign ignorance. You know who I am, from always since.”
Drim tugged at his restraints.
“I am your Witch Queen God.”
A muffled laugh came from Drim. He tapped his feet in amusement. Then ceased immediately and resumed glaring at her.
“Bow, praise, sing, and rejoice; soon, I’ll come to my begotten,” she continued, seemingly unbothered by Drim’s outburst. “But I need one to clean, for my home is rotten.”
“The Priestess is defined by wicked ambition. To depose her, to scour her stench, is your mission. Were I before her, she would disavow.”
A scoff came from Drim.
“You too would deny me, yet you crave no throne. To war against me, she’ll raze worlds down to stone.”
Drim found himself too focused on her eyes. They didn’t merely cut, or gouge through. They dissected.
“My great lives and great treasures would be lost. To betray me, she would pay any cost. A tactful approach is due.”
She didn’t blink. Not that she needed to. Her face was unnatural. Like a low-polygon render, but with striking detail in certain parts. The corners of her mouth, where her ears met her head, the edges of the eye. All were so defined. But her cheeks, her jaw, her forehead were cubic. Her hair, or what could be described as such, was as a ghostly veil. It flittered, like the particles in your eye that dart away from your focus. Her visage was like a blend of portraits from three different generations of artists.
But those eyes. Drim could swear she could see his thoughts. Perhaps so. But it all felt so impossible that it could only be trickery.
Drim didn’t feel fear though. His most primary feeling was annoyance over having a lousy dream.
“Heed now, thy aim needs to be duplicitous. Ingratiate, connive, and act felicitous.”
The top eyelids of Drim’s eyes lowered. He would just wait until he woke up.
“Great distance between me and you. But there is still this I can do.”
Startlingly, Drim’s chest heaved. He bucked and seized in his chair, grunts hidden behind his teeth. His shirt had vanished, but he wondered if it was ever there. His skin on his chest parted, as well as the muscles beneath. Out popped a tiny mechanical part, smaller than half a centimeter in diameter.
He didn’t immediately recognize it, but it wasn’t hard to figure out.
“So what? It’s still a dream,” Drim thought.
“Of her threat, you are freed,” she responded.
She paused, her smile fading.
“Victim of time we are, this dream is nearing its end. Consider my offer; take the hand I extend.”
Then she was gone. So too were the chairs. Drim stood on the edges of the endless shore. Beyond was too far, and behind was long gone. There was nothing. Nothing but Drim himself, the ground beneath him, the warm waves, the indifferent sky, and Her voice.
“So to draw your thirst, so I may prove no bluff. That she placed within, I have removed your cuff.”
Far behind came a soft whimper. Drim froze. He then heard it before him. And then to the sides. It grew in intensity and he instantly knew its owner. It cried to him in pain, begging for relief.
Again she spoke, piercing through the sobs that surrounded Drim.
“Know this: only through me can you save him.”
He awoke to the world of darkness. His world.
Feeling his chest, he could swear it felt imperceptibly lighter.
Suddenly he gripped his head as their voices echoed again. Her voice. And his.
Anlov Record 