What is real? For what seems to be uncountable days we have been trapped in the dreams of the man Zanath. Is he a man? Living out our greatest fears. Watching our friends scream in the pain of watching their own pasts come back in the most devious ways. Can I blame him? He created this place, the Whispering Vault. I watch as he breathes life back into the broken form of Marrol, fallen as she watched her home fall to the Illythid, the mind flayers. But it wasn’t real, was it? I wonder. I watched Hoargoth fall prey to his own illusion as Marrol did, as Varian did, as Alawan did, as Dean did, as Jerick did, as I did. Elana lies on the floor of this place, unmoving. I can see her eyes flailing, searching for something, trapped beneath their cover. Could it be that she is trapped inside, searching for a way out? Or maybe it isn’t Elana at all who is looking to get out. I wonder. I can’t so easily discount all I’ve seen, I mustn’t believe it wasn’t real. It had to have been. I saw it. I felt it. I heard it. It must have been real, somehow. Perhaps it wasn’t so much something that happened, as it is something that needed to or still needs to happen.
We leave this place, in an instant we are in Marrol’s home. The battle rages on. The Zanathae have begun their final battle with the Illythid. We have brought their savior with us. The man they shunned and ran from their home, his home; we have returned with their god. The scene looks to be as it was in the “dream,” the Illythid float above the city massacring the populace, below some sort of dwarf battle against the Zanathae. This time, however, Marrol doesn’t die. There is no time to die. Zanath brings his hands up, closes his eyes, and the Illythid are no more. Just like that. It’s amazing to watch. To see the power of a god unleashed. To see the purest form of will. The gore of this battle lie strewn about, as quickly as he arrived Zanath is gone; perhaps to eliminate the rest of Illythid, perhaps back to his prison, who knows?
The wizards of this place hand a scroll of powerful magic over to Dean. They tell us that it contains the power to send us back home. Home? We say our good-byes. We are thanked for our help. Did we really do anything? Did anything really happen? Is this still a dream? What is real?
Dean studies the scroll for a moment, a look of understanding passes over his eyes. I feel the rush of air. As if we’re being thrown. Sunlight. Warmth. Are we back? Is this Selador? We hurry toward what looks to be a town. The buildings are all, tiny. The people are all very short. What is this place? This isn’t home. I don’t think this is the dream. I know this isn’t Selador.
With out a word I leave my friends. In search of the quiet of the forest. I need to think. Straighten everything out. Why must this all be so hard? I hope Elana is alright. I hope everyone else is coping with what we’ve seen and lost better than I. My mind feels jumbled. I feel as if I’ve lost something. What seemed so large before seems small and insignificant. I seem insignificant.
As I leave this village full of jabbering short men and women (I wish I could understand them) I see elves. Why would the elves be here? Could it be that we’ve arrived here for some greater purpose than we can understand? I can feel the walls growing around me. My psyche closing off to the onslaught of input. I mustn’t let it happen, I need to find the calm within me, I must find my reason.
Thoughts of Hiram come to me. He was always so sure and knew what to do. Could it be that he suffered from the same thoughts of inadequacy as I’m feeling now and always do. What would he do? The answer comes, but it’s not easy. The road is never easy, that’s what he would say. I must live up to the expectations that have been drawn of me, for me. If I am to become a leader I must act and look the part of a leader. I need to accept the world as I see it and find it and work from there. I question things too much, leaving too much room for interpretation. I must stop acting selfishly. I question that we bicker too much between us. Perhaps I should mediate and allow everyone a say, allow everyone to do what the do best. That is the role of a good leader, to bring out the best in those around him, correct? I’ve accepted that I’m a leader, now I must become a leader. I must trust that this is the real world. That we have done our part for the Zanathae, now we must do our part for the world. Geas needs us. Tomorrow we begin our journey anew. We must do what we can. I must do what I can. |
