Ensnared in a world of make believe, I wonder each day which side of myself is more real: the part which grips the hilt of my sword and raises it high above my head in bloody triumph or the ever waning part of me which remembers the feel of cement beneath my feet and the sound of sirens. What do I care which is real? The dream is before my eyes. I roar my battle cry, plunging into the thick of the fight. I thrill in the feel of my blade plunging through the body of my enemy. This is my dream, as dark and gory as it is. This is the picture behind my eyes. Sleeping until the alarm rings and I trudge up the stairs to begin a new day.
I settle my bag across my shoulders, ignoring my siblings as they viciously fight for control over the TV. They will still end up watching the same cartoon, no matter who wins. The remote is simply a badge of honor and victory. How is this life any different from the dream? I grab some toast, a staple food good for eating on the run, and head out the door. I will need my energy today for the quest that lies ahead of me. My faithful stead leans gently against the wood fence right where the paint has almost completely peeled off. She is a beautiful dark green with silver spokes and white-rimmed wheels. I call her Tia in front of everyone else, but to me, she is the wyvern Ka'lik who carries me to my prison then back to my sanctuary each day. She does not wish to take me to my prison, my daily torture, but I know I must go and she bends to my will each day.
I mount Ka'lik as she slowly flutters her wings to get a feel for the wind. I wait for a few moments to allow her to be sure, and then gently tap her sides with my bare feet. We are off, flying low to the ground but faster than any two footed mortal. Swiftly she carries me, the familiar joy welling within us and multiplying as we share in the experience of flight. The sky above is a clear, intense blue that fills my senses with the taste of color. Fall is coming fast now, the trees rapidly turning in preparation for winter. This will be my last ride with Ka'lik for soon she must hibernate. The cold of winter on this continent is not beneficial to her. This is why spring remains my favorite season for all that I enjoy the chill of autumn.
The parts of me withdraw from each other as Ka'lik and I near my prison. I pull back, signaling the need to slow down. She stops short of the open air stables where several other mounts wait. I slide off ka'lik's back and proceed to chain her to one of the posts. It is more of courtesy than anything else. I know the Ka'lik would wait for me but if she got bored, she might eat one of the other mounts, and that would not be beneficial for either of us. I scratch her head absentmindedly as I survey the others streaming into the rather imposing building. Ka'lik chirrs softly which makes me smile despite myself.
Promising to return as soon as inhumanly possible, I leave Ka'lik to enter the great doors and to start yet another day of torture.
"Hey, orcface, daydreaming already?"
I grin as I look up and see Hakim slipping with an almost inhuman ease through the crowd to greet me. He is human, though his appearance can be deceiving. He is a thief and blessed [or cursed, depending on your view of it] with immortality. We became good friends some centuries ago though strangers would be hard pressed to see that. I wave once, and then step forward to punch him lightly on the arm.
"Hakim, you actually got your lazy ass out of bed today."
"Yeah, well, good to see you too. Is it just me, or did you get uglier since last we met?"
"It's just you. After that last whack on the head, you should have expected some memory issues. When are you going to learn to duck?"
"When you learn not to attack your allies!"
"It's your own fault for trying to steal my share of the loot."
His smile was replaced with a grimace as the gong rang. We parted ways, shouting half-hearted insults while making plans to meet up later. First torture of the day began with passing on the pain. The specimen before me could easily have belonged to any of the goblinoid races. I raised the small blade above the specimen and shouted loudly before plunging the blade deep within the goblinoid's neck. It died quickly but my problems where just beginning. The Overlord's servant started in on me, saying I was to dissect the creature, not 'hack it up', to which I replied that I gave the creature an honorable death. The servant/slave grimaced and started to say something more then just shook his head and continued on. They learn, if very slowly.
My next torture involved complex problems that had several solutions and only one way of solving them. This I bore in silence. Next was a rest period. They locked divisions of twenty of us in different rooms to 'be advised'. Sometimes that involved friendly fistfights but not today. I watched a single cloud struggle across the sky until the gong reverberated throughout the room. My third torture was split into two parts. First, we would sit and listen to a re-instructor speak. When the gong rang, we had a short feeding period, and then we returned to the room to begin repetition. The re-instructor would speak a phrase of some human tongue then we would repeat. Slowly, the foreign language was beginning to make sense to me. Still, I had no use for human language. I could converse easily with Hakim in the human tongue I was already familiar and in my own language which he is mildly proficient in.
My final torture for the day was dull memorization of the history of a race I cared nothing for. Wars upon wars upon dates and deaths of men and women I would never meet. Not that I wanted to. Humans were very proud of their 'long' history. They could not even trace their bloodlines back before the turn of the world. I bore through, however, and left the building with a faint whisper of contentment in my heart and mind. Hakim waited on the steps with Rena, Grendel, and Hayes. Rena was Hakim's sometimes lover and a mix breed. All I know is she has some sort of elven blood to her though her heart is black as a moonless night. She specializes in battle magic and being proud. Grendel is a dragon-human mix and a handful when in a temper. Quick witted and resourceful, it is Grendel who ends up saving our asses from the fire when things go utterly pear-shaped. Hayes is the sort of guy you avoid even in bright daylight. He is a necromancer and damn powerful, too. He claims to stay with us because he finds us 'amusing'. As for my part in all this, I am what we call a 'tank'; a sort of nearly indestructible, close-arms fighter.
I mount Ka'lik as the others call out greetings. We all go our own ways and will meet at the place we have come to call our own. I tap Ka'lik lightly on her sides and she spurs forward. She is running across the ground to climb the hill before us. Near the top, sides heaving, she stretches her wings, and for a moment we are poised on the precipice – then we are falling, flying, swooping over the land as we race the shadows of the lingering sunlight. Sensations fill me up to the brim as I revel in the dying day and what is still left before me. My dreams, the world behind the world, and the life that is mine and more real than the reality which takes hold each day. We lose ourselves in the dead trees and rusted red leaves, the scent of the coming winter and the bright blue sky edged with the colors of the setting sun.
This is my world within a world, behind and between and soaking into every fiber of my being as Ka'lik draws in her wings and dives into the valley below us. I am free.