Book 3: Chapter 49: Blossoms in the Wind
Nurture your own strength and wisdom so that trust flows effortlessly from others to you. And when one has become powerful and wise, it will become easy to trust others.
- The Human Question by Gideon de Salavia 378 AC.
Chains of bone and bronze bound me to four stone pillars. I stood in a wide, dusty plain, beneath a gray sky, the sun a dull presence overhead. The wind blew through, stirring small tornadoes of dust that drew the eye. This place was filled with emptiness and parched with longing.
There was more here than mere Death made manifest. I had the sense that such a trite word could not fully capture the concepts that had taken shape around me.
I tried to move, but I was tightly bound. The limited movements I could manage felt slow and sluggish. Helplessness overtook me. "Put aside your burden, rest," a sweet, sultry voice whispered. "Surely it is better than suffering. Embrace the comfort of the end."
My will began to falter, swayed by the voice. Yes, it would be easy to finally give up and rest. This was a dream, after all, was it not?
Greenery started to grow around the base of the four pillars. Leafy invaders, tenacious and sudden, grasping vines that grew like snakes, tendrils of fresh life spreading across the ground to my armored feet.
Yes, even in my dreams, I wore armor. For me, it seemed to be the only protection against the madness of this strange place.