Chapter II

Wraith

The sandy bottom of the laneway had been littered with footprints of various sizes — a set of smallish hoofprints, as well. The most recent signs were of many leaving the place. Survivors? I went their way, thinking it likely that they might know in which direction lay civilization. I also meant to learn whether or not they intended my release.

So, for two days, I did walk the Realm alone, searching for some sign of useful life. So barren. . . . Where was everyone and everything? I tired of these dry, dusty dunes and dead trees. Even the sky was empty — clear but empty. Was this or was this not a realm of dragons? This did not speak well of the Dungeon Master. It was, however, quite encouraging to my mind. But then again, a lifeless realm would hold little amusement for me.

Ah! Which to favor? A dying realm that reflected a weakening of its Dungeon Master (the fact that the Realm was still here at all was proof that there, at least, was one)? Or a thriving realm in which to merrily put my talents to work?

I sat on a petrified stump between two sandy dunes, still contemplating my predicament.

It was not long before I caught sight of my unfortunate old merchant, with his horse and cart, and all such thoughts were forgotten. I smiled.

He could not yet see me. The distance was much too great for his aged eyes. But I could see him. I waited patiently, taking note of his styles of both clothing and transportation with mounting disappointment. He must have been in desperate straits to willingly venture across this wasteland with his wares.

Oh, how little this realm had changed! It appeared to remain much as I had left it! I began to see how much the people must need me! My return would be their bountiful blessing! I knew I must be the catalyst! If this man were any example of how the Realm now stands, then I must bring the Realm into a new era — an event certainly long overdue! It was what I had always been meant to do. Perhaps the Dungeon Master's hold on the Realm was weakening the same as my prison had weakened enough to loose me. Perhaps my time had, at last, come.

I get ahead of myself. Too often. I would first need a costume befitting my chosen status of Savior of the Realm, I realized — for I was, as yet, unclothed.

You were wondering about that, weren't you?

Of course you were.

Taking a cue from my man's peasant dress, I fashioned a set of clothes that satisfied both current fashion and personal pride. I flared my hands before me, and upon my arms came the beginnings of a regal suit of black and royal purple, which I'd always favored, in the medieval style that this realm had apparently not yet passed.

Well, perhaps the cape was a bit much. I removed it with a flourish, throwing up a thick cloud of dust. A wind happened through and carried the cloud into the face of my fated one. I heard a sneeze and peered around to see the most amusing sequence of events.

The old man sneezed again. Such a sneeze was it that he jerked the reigns to one side. The horse's neck went back, its front legs crossed, and then down the exhausted beast went. The driver was thrown from his seat, his neck breaking upon impact, and he was then trodden on by the horse as it struggled to right itself.

My doing, of course. Not one of my better designs, alas, but sufficient for my purpose.

Now I knew I must be quick, and my timing precise. As thankful as he should be to be release from his banal existence, I couldn't let him slip away just yet.

It took an effort of concentration, but I was able to trap the soul within the shell. Now to wait. Yes, there it was already. The fish was striking at the bait, as it were.

And then from behind me: "Lokiah, release this soul." Death was possessed of a voice of such refined, and even seductive, raspiness.

"Not until you return what is rightfully mine," said I as I faced him.

"It was agreed. Upon your defeat, I reclaimed the Wraith."

"But I am not defeated, as my very presence plainly proves."

He pointed a bony finger at me. "You were banished."

"Ah, but I was banished because I could not be defeated!"

I chuckled inwardly at my own clever argument as he stood as still as stone under that cloak. The maddening fact that he had no face denied me the pleasure of observing what would surely have been a very confounded and most amusing expression.

Yet, a second later, my patience was wearing thin — due to the fact that my hold on my bargaining piece was as well.

"Are we to stand here until the Realm turns to dust? I know how important is the order of your great list, and I tell you you will not have this soul until I have what is mine."

Finally, with a brusque flick of his bony wrist, a milky whiteness took shape between us. Immediately I gripped the air to hold a chain, on the other end of which was my prize.

In the same instant, as if by my will, I lost my hold on the poor soul. Death took his ward and was gone. There were only the two of us then, and quite a pair were Wraith and I.

"Wraith, my old friend, in an age long passed, you did serve me well. Will you serve Lokiah, Bringer of Chaos, once more?"

"I am given choice?"

I laughed. "Let us pretend so." But I knew my old companion; he would not disappoint.

"It has been a long time. You may indeed have need of me — if only to keep you from blundering in this new age."

"New age indeed," I couldn't help but mutter in derision.

"Yes, I serve Lokiah once more."

"Good!" How I had missed that haunting, whispery voice! I released him of his bonds. "Come, then, Wraith! Let us bestir ourselves!"