...Norese is at a feast.
A feast consisting of creek water, mud, and soggy leaves. Coughing and spitting out this most unwelcome meal she hears a familiar voice. She hopes it is a dream. She hears it again.
Face first in mud is not proper etiquette for a queen, your highness. Cackles of laughter.
This is no dream.
She sighs.
She is alive.
She opens one eye. The one not encrusted in mud.
Its the dwarf Mekon: a twinkle in his eye, a gleam in his smile, and a finger in his ear.
Do you fancy mud, hmm?
Silence. Her eye speaks of sarcasm, but her facial expression speaks of pain.
Mud is a far cry from fudge and definitely not as tasty.
She closes her eye thinking he will grow bored and leave.
But, I am not sure if mud is more nutritious, hmm?
Hes not leaving soon enough.
I must look into this. Would mud be a dessert or an entree?
Cackles of more obnoxious laughter. But, Mekon loses interest in this one sided conversation. He moves on to more pressing concerns. An itch in his ear canal.
Norese groans.
Inspecting his finger just recently pulled from his ear, he sniffs, and raises an
eyebrow.
Trying to shift her weight, the pain in her leg and upper body lets out a roar. She groans again.
Mekon decides to taste his finger.
Her broken leg and ribs from the repeated collisions into the rivers rocks rule out any substantial movement. Cuts and bruises form a road map on her body.
Just as quickly as he loses it, Mekon refocuses his energy from his waxed finger to Noreses prone body. He unwraps his heavy purple cape and grips his deep cherry wood baton with the glass orb sitting on top. After removing his cape, folding it, and placing it carefully along the rivers edge he extends his arms towards the sky as he summons the Realms power. The sky, recovering from the storm, is majestic. Even in the middle of the night the sky is a deep, neon blue. As low-lying clouds pass rapidly through the windy night, the moonlight illuminates them like sparkling imperfect jewels. Norese begins to feel a pulse in the nape of her neck, thick in the mud. Its the orb that Fadimio, the enchanter, gave her. The orb throbs. She looks up and Mekon is in a trance, in all his glory. His eyes glazed over in all white and his arms still outstretched, he is a beacon of power.
Stillness.
All wind and noise has ceased.
Even the stream, Icimin, seems silent even though the water flows endlessly towards the sea.
Mekon, Keeper of the Realms questions, begins to mumble. Norese does not comprehend and her pain intensifies. More groans as she tries to close her eyes but cannot. The sky is even more magnificent as sparkling light, all shades of the rainbow, flash throughout the night sky. Mekons orb is a mix of color, swirling in rhythm to the nights colorful pulse. Norese is now convinced that his orb is controlling the night sky. Soon, it seems to control even more as her own orbs pulse quickens and the thick mud that encloses it now freely oozes.
Her orb is now visible, a violent mix of colors, swirling and intermixing repeatedly to construct new colors. She feels the throb of the orb increase, but the orb appears still, except for the fantastic display of light. Within moments, a warm sensation develops in her throat and starts to move through her body.
Her face.
Her chest.
Her waist.
Moving steadily like lava.
Until it flows throughout her entire body. Mekons appearance has not changed. And, neither has his chanting. Now, Norese can hear the words of his chanting, monotone and calm. Oddly, she hears it not through her own ears, but within the depth of her body as if the warm sensation flowing through her is his voice, his words. But, the words do not make sense. The meaning she does not know nor does she believe it to be any language she has heard before.
...falcome shizite tokeme fifinet a some...
Norese feels the pain from her injuries no longer and her mud tomb evaporates from her. The seemingly meaningless words are music. A healing tune, not unlike a lullaby.
...gojime voximenta himbambisin a some...
The colors from her orb ooze out and spread all around her like a pulsating wave. She is in a canopy of vibrant dye. The world is left far behind.
...a some yotomatake popilate zimbada...
Her body rises from the mud. Now, fully erect, she dwarfs Mekon, and seems stronger than ever. Even her clothes are completely dry and intact. Norese feels her face for the deep cuts from the river but they are no longer there, erased from existence. Her ribs and legs and the rest no longer an area of unbearable pain. The sea of colors begin to twist and swirl, collapsing into each other with great speed and extreme violence. Then, with a flourish of immense light and sound, the colors implode into a single speck and all is before her.
A crisp bright day of summer greens and blues. And, Mekon. Standing there with a gigantic smile of yellow buckteeth. Yes, I do fancy a good doctor, umm.
Once again,
birds sing and
trees gently sway and
the River Icimin calmly flows.
Silence? Hmmm, I expect more from you, my dear. Not even a thank you for the magnificent Mekon, Keeper of the Realms questions?
Silence. Shock.
Well, the last time we spoke you were quite talkative I recall. Confused, but talkative.
Norese shakes off her funk, Sorry, thank you, thank you for...saving me.
That is better. You are welcome, but what are you doing out here, in the middle of nowhere, and lying in a bed of mud, Queen Norese?
Stop calling me that. Norese steps forward with clenched fists as she towers over the diminutive Keeper.
Still, Mekon, obviously enjoying himself, responds, Touchy, but you are the Realms queen, my girl.
Stop it! Her face is blood red, but she gains composure quickly and sighs.
What? Queen? Mekon can hardly contain his infectious giggle. You are the Realms queen, my dear.
Not by choice!
Ha! Come, come, hmmm. This is your life, my queen.
Norese retorts, My life? I did not choose this life. I did not want to be your queen!
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