Chapter 14 – Dream girl
Edwynn blinked himself awake slowly. His sleep had been dreamless and his body no longer ached from exhaustion. Unfortunately his stomach had been empty for too long, and now his head ached. He breathed slowly, sat up, and surveyed his surroundings.
He was alone, but apparently this was a recent development. This room in the Lion's Pride Inn had two beds, and the one next to him had obviously been slept in. The accommodations were simple, with each bed having a small nightstand, and a single window showing the bright yellow sun. Brogan's cloak and oversized pants lay crumpled on the floor next to his knapsack.
'What the heck? Is he running around naked or something?' Edwynn thought to himself. He frowned down at the cloths he was wearing. His favorite linen shirt was torn and bloodstained, little more than a rag at this point. He had slept in his pants, which were caked in mud and grass stains. 'Man.' he pondered. 'How do real heroes keep their cloths clean all day?'
There was a soft knock at the door. Edwynn waited and said nothing. It didn't occur to him that whoever was knocking was asking permission to enter, because he had never had his own room before. His corner of the servant's quarters had only been separated from the others by a long drape of cloth. The knock came a second time, and then the handle turned and the door swung inwards.
"Hello?" came Myrista's soft voice.
"Hey there." Edwynn was suddenly very self conscious of his manner of dress.
Myrista entered slowly, carrying a leather bundle and a tray of food. "I brought you some breakfast, I thought you might be hungry."
"Thanks, I'm starving." The smell of herb roasted eggs and grilled wolf meat permeated the air. Edwynn practically ripped the plate from her grasp and began eating heartily. Myrista sat down across from him on the bed and began fidgeting with her skirt. The young priestess was no longer wearing her torn evening gown from the night before. She now had a simple linen dress suitable for any peasant village girl, and her hair was pulled back in a nondescript ponytail. It was possibly the most 'normal' that Edwynn had ever seen her.
"That's an interesting look for you." Edwynn muttered between bites. The girl seemed to pale somewhat and awkwardly thrust the bundle of leathers onto Edwynn's bed near his feet.
"The innkeeper gave me two gold crowns for the Star Ruby. That, and the promise of food and lodging for as long as we need it."
"I was there, remember." Edwynn coughed as he almost inhaled part of his egg. "I came in while Brogan and Mythril waited outside. That guy was pissed when we woke him up. Two young people demanding a room in the middle of the night, I bet he thought we were eloping or something."
"Edwynn, please!" Myrista went from pale to crimson. "Anyway, I got up early and went to the seamstress. She had some cloths that I thought might fit you. It's not much, but it's the least I can do to repay you for saving my life."
Edwynn placed his plate on the small nightstand and examined the bundle. It was a rough leather vest and a set of pants to match. Both were dyed black. 'These will blend into the shadows nicely´ he smiled inwardly, and wondered if Myrista had been thinking of that. "Hey thanks. These are great. And you know what? I think these might be the first set of cloths I've ever owned that weren't hand-me-downs." Edwynn tugged off his bloodstained rag of a shirt.
"Um… I should leave so you can change." Myrista started to get up.
"Don't worry about it. That wasn't really covering anything." Edwynn pulled on the leather vest. It was a little snug across the torso. "Where's Brogan?"
"He's trying to find Mythril."
"What? Where is she?"
As if on cue, the door opened and Brogan stepped inside. Edwynn gasped at seeing the warlock.
"You're cured!"
"Hardly." Brogan threw himself down on the bed next to Myrista. The black skin was gone. His blue eyes seemed somehow more vibrant now that he looked human again. Like Edwynn he was wearing new cloths. His were plain linen however, giving the impression that he was about to start the day behind the counter of a local shop. Only his bandaged left hand gave any clue of the previous night's events.
"What happened to your…" Edwynn made a feeble hand gesture towards his eyes.
"I discovered an incantation to repress the demon skin. It should last another half hour or so, which will give me time to get out of here and on the road to Stormwind."
"Wait, back up a second." Edwynn glanced out the window. It was only mid-morning but apparently he had missed a great deal. "Where's Mythril?"
"Gone. She stole the book and snuck away before we woke up." Brogan didn't seem surprised or even annoyed.
"What? Why would she do that? Where would she go?"
"I think she went to the Park. It's one of the neighborhoods in Stormwind." Myrista commented. "I've seen Night Elves there, when I used to go into the city with father."
"But why didn't she bring us?"
"Because she doesn't trust us." Brogan scowled. "That, and she probably thinks we'd slow her down, or that we can't survive what she's getting into. She doesn't care about us. She thinks we're just kids, and that we can just run back to Northshire like nothing happened."
There was silence for a moment. Then Myrista said "Actually, that sounds like a good idea."
"What?" Brogan and Edwynn said together.
"Think about it. Mythril was hunting for this mystical book. Now she's got it and is probably halfway to the capital by now. Why shouldn't we go home?"
"I don't know how well you remember last night, but there's not much home to go back to." Edwynn's comment made Myrista's lips press together.
"I remember last night very well, thank you. I don't plan on just standing by and letting a bunch of hoodlums destroy everything my family built. I'm a Crownguard. I'm going to do something about it."
"Like what? Buy a new manor with two gold crowns?" Edwynn sat up and looked her straight in the eye. "Myrista, there's nothing to go back to."
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
Brogan interrupted. "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I need to go after that book."
"Why?" Edwynn asked.
"You're smarter than you let most people think, Edwynn. You know why."
There was a pause for a couple of seconds. Then Edwynn sprang up from the bed, terrified eyes locked onto the warlock. Brogan didn't flinch, but Myrista gasped. "What's wrong?"
"The incantation! The spell to make you look human! Where did you learn it? Who taught it to you?"
"I AM human, Ed." Brogan growled, and spell or no spell, there seemed to be heat coming from his eyes.
"Brogan, what's he talking about?" Myrista started to withdraw from him on the bed. The blonde boy's expression fell as he saw her pull away.
"Last night I had a dream." Brogan began. "A very special dream…"
"Open your eyes, dear heart. It's time to get up."
Brogan's eyes fluttered open. It was late afternoon. He was lying in a field of grass, his head resting on a woman's leg. She was playing with his hair absent-mindedly. The air smelled fresh and pure. It reminded Brogan of…
"Dalaron!"
Brogan jumped to his feet. He was standing on a rocky slope overlooking the city of his birth. Dalaron, kingdom of magic. Home of the Kiran Tor, and wizards who commanded magics vast and powerful. The city walls and spires glistened in the late afternoon sun, seeming to shimmer as if seen through a pane of glass. The city was perfect, unspoiled. Just as he remembered it the day he left so many years ago.
"It is quite beautiful." Said the voice.
Edwynn turned. Behind him on the hill was a woman. He didn't recognize her, but she seemed to remind him of his mother. She sat with her legs folded under her, and until just a moment ago his head had been on her lap.
"What's going on? What am I doing here?"
"You are leaving." The woman pointed towards the city. From the south gate a train of wagons was slowly pulling away from the city. They were refugees fleeing from some unknown terror. To the north storm clouds crowded the horizon, a portent of dire things to come.
"You remember this day well, don't you?" The woman's voice was familiar.
"Prince Arthas is coming." Brogan recalled aloud. "He is leading his undead army to destroy the city. The Kiran Tor said that he would never breech the mystic barrier. But mom didn't believe them. She said Arthas had already destroyed the elves, who had taught us humans everything we knew about magic. She knew the city would fall. She's sending me to Southshore. From there we're going by boat to Stormwind."
"Your mother was wise. Arthas knew that any fortress's defenses could be breached, if you throw enough troops at it. And he had so many troops."
"I know your voice." Brogan ignored the vision of the city and focused on the woman. "You're the demon."
"Please, let us be civil." The woman stood. As she did, her form became fuzzy, her features indistinct. "My people are called the Eredar. Demon is such an unfriendly word. And we are going to be good friends, aren't we? Our…'relationship' will be much easier that way."
The hill began to change. Time began to pass at a hundred times its normal speed. The soft grasses bloomed and became overgrown with ferns and bushes. A thick, hot fog rolled in. Trees appeared and aged, growing tall and blocking out the sunlight. The thick canopy of leaves obscured the sky; making the air itself cast everything in a green radiance.
"Where am I?" Brogan asked.
"You know where you are." The ghostly woman answered. "You are in Goldshire, at the Lion's Pride Inn. You are sound asleep. And as such I was able to pull you here, into this realm."
"The Emerald Dream..." Brogan looked around to the lush growth around him.
"A wonderful and dangerous place. Ambition and memories can take a physical presence here. You should be cautious."
"Why have you brought me here? What do you want from me?"
"To educate you, in a manner of speaking. We do not have much time." With that the shadowy figure raised a hand and gestured. The trees in that direction creaked and swayed. The green air darkened and Brogan could make out shadowy forms moving about. He felt himself drawn towards them and, much like a real dream, he stepped into that direction almost against his will. Moving closer he saw the forest give way to a room. Ferns and grass became wooden flooring, and he found himself looking into his room at the inn. Edwynn snored loudly on a bed at the far side of the room, and he looked down at his own sleeping form on the nearby bed.
"By the Light, is that what I look like?"
The sleeping Brogan lay on his stomach, wearing only his oversized pants. His ink black skin seemed like a hole in the room's darkness. The sleeping boy's eyes twitched as he dreamed and occasional flutters of light escaped from beneath his lids.
"I'm a monster…" he muttered.
"I take offense to that." The woman answered. "I think you're beautiful. And as you know, the demon skin is hardier than human flesh, and regenerates quickly. It's also resistant to various magics. A useful tool for the future."
"I hate it!" he snarled. His sleeping form twitched. "I want to go back! Change me back!"
"The blood pact is permanent. It cannot be undone. However there are spells to suppress its changes."
"What are they? Tell me!"
"Not so fast. First you must do something for me…"
"No!" Brogan pointed at his wraithlike tormentor. "I was raised around wizards, and grew up on stories of your demonic tricks. Give something to get something. Nothing without it's price. Your demon lies are the reason I have this… affliction. Well I'm not going to fall deeper into your web. I don't care what you want; you're not going to get it."
The womanly shape folded her arms and gave the impression of a smile. "Good." She said. "I'm glad you're angry. I was beginning to think I overestimated your willpower."
"What do you want from me?"
"Protection." She said, and a light shown from the bedroom. The hallway door opened and Mythril entered the dream. She stepped to the edge of the bed and knelt there, next to Brogan and his knapsack.
"Time is short, dear heart." The demoness said.
"Why do you keep calling me that?"
"Because we are married, sort of." Brogan felt the cut on his left hand pulse with heat. On the bed his body twitched and moaned. The Night Elf froze and watched him.
"Listen to me Brogan." The dream woman said. "The Night Elves are prejudiced against my people, and with good reason. But they do not know what we know. You and I are bonded now, and nothing can ever change that. The elves' hatred of me will become a hatred of you. Do not trust them. They will try to imprison or kill you, just as they did with poor Illidan. You must bypass or overcome their tricks if we are to succeed."
"Succeed at what?"
"I have given you a great gift, young one, but it is you who must wield it. You can command incredible energies, and summon powerful entities. But you lack the skills to do so. You must learn to control your gifts, and quickly."
"What for?" Brogan asked. "Wealth? Power? What can you offer me that would be worth this living hell?"
The woman's form rippled like water. Suddenly Myrista was standing before him. Her white skin and black hair seemed to shine in the fog.
"Oh, thank the Light." The girl threw herself at him and clutched him tightly to her. She felt vividly real. The softness of her chest, her nails on his back, the smell of her hair, it was all so real.
"Oh Brogan, I was having the most incredible dream. You were there, and I was so scared. But you were brave and powerful. And I thought… oh, it's so shameful what I thought. But it doesn't matter…" Myrista pulled away slightly, her cheeks flushed with color. She gazed up at him. "You know, I don't remember you being so tall…"
"Stop it! It's not true!" Brogan pushed her away and she stumbled back against a tree.
"You're right." Myrista's lips moved, but the voice was the demon. The creature blinked once and its eyes turned solid black. "It's not true, but it can be. I can see into her dreams just as easily as yours. I know her heart's desires, even the ones that are buried too deep for her to admit. She's not a pure as everyone believes. But I think being tied up by those bandits awoke something deep inside her."
"Shut up!" Brogan covered his ears, but somehow that made the demon's laughter louder. Glancing to the room where his body lay dreaming he could see Mythril was lifting the codex from his knapsack. Carefully the druid placed the book in her own pack.
The voice resounded in Brogan's mind. "She means to take me to the Night Elves in Stormwind. They are fools. I can handle them easily enough. But you must listen to me, dear heart. You are not ready for the challenges that lie ahead. Not yet. Go to the Slaughtered Lamb, in Stormwind. There are people there who can give you the training you will need to survive."
"What about my friends?"
"They may yet prove useful. Especially your crafty schoolmate. He's more resourceful than he seems.
Mythril rose and headed towards the door. As she stepped into the hallway the sunlight in the forest began to dim. Brogan felt himself drawn towards his sleeping form. As he neared it, an incantation burned itself into his mind. He saw his body muttering the words. Black skin paled and thinned. Burning eyes dimmed and went out. Then everything was darkness.
"So you just cast the spell? You repeated the words the demon told you without even wondering what it would do?"
"Don't be an idiot, Ed. I've learned enough of the demon's language to have a rough idea of what a spell does."
Brogan had told the two of them most of his dream encounter. He carefully held back the part where Balba'yorn had transformed into Myrista, substituting instead a girl from the abbey who Brogan had no interest in. He had watched Myrista carefully at that part, but the priestess gave no signs of jealously.
"And no, before you ask." Brogan continued. "I don't trust her. She's a demon. She's already afflicted me, and by all accounts she is out to destroy the world. But we'd be dead in a shack in Northshire is it wasn't for her. That, and the vision of Mythril stealing the book. Now we're here. Mythril is gone. The book is gone. I think what she showed me was what happened."
"So I guess its Stormwind then." Edwynn said quietly.
Myrista mused to herself. "The Slaughtered Lamb… I've heard of it. I think my father used to go there."
"Well, we're wasting time." Brogan said. "I can feel the spell wearing off, like water dripping away after a bath. We should get out of here."
Packing took less than two minutes. They had no weapons and only one knapsack between them. Edwynn wolfed down the rest of his meal and the three of them descended to the inn's common room. There Myrista went to settle their bill and buy a lunch. With luck they could make Stormwind by dusk.
"So what about you?" Brogan asked.
"Huh?" Edwynn responded.
"You don't want to run home to Northshire? It wasn't your house that burned down. And no magic curse is making you chase after that damned book."
"Go back to being a servant in some rich lord's house, and have everyone tell me how lucky I am to have a job? No thanks. I'll take my freedom and the responsibility to make my own way over that old life any day. But Jorik always said 'Never make a move without a plan'. I guess I could…"
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Edwynn felt himself turned around and practically thrown backwards against the wall. The rogue looked up to see a big man with white hair glaring at him. An enormous warhammer occupied his right fist.
"So…" The man said in a deep baritone. "You're the one who burned down my house and ran off with my niece, eh?"