The Tower of Dreams

I.

The Kalahari Plains were in truth no more than a vast, sun-scorched desert that lay between the ghoul haunted forest of Werewood to the west and the fertile river valleys of the Zanthar to the east. Here indeed was a place that Hathor, goddess spirit of nature, had long ago forsaken. Not a single living entity; bird, beast, or insect, made its home there. No one had ever been known to cross it's wide wastes and any who dared to enter therein had never returned. Since time unremembered, it had been a place where death reigned supreme.

But one day the impossible happened, and a lone figure entered into that silent tableau. A living being of any sort seemed a grave impossibility amidst the desolation of that endless plain, an impossibly small creature set against the backdrop of those limitless wastes, but this lone adventurer was naught but a teen aged girl, and for one so fragile to be found wandering alone in the barren and inhospitable regions of the Savage Lands seemed a joke that only the gods would enjoy telling.

Her name was Kore, and she was very young, having seen no more than sixteen summers, yet she was already a figure most obviously blossomed into ripe femininity. Her breasts were large and round, as was her hips and buttocks, and would have been the pleasure of many a lusty man. Her flesh was sun darkened and well muscled, for her youth had been a life lived in the forest. She carried a bag over her shoulders and a long gnarled walking staff in her right hand.

She had been driven to the wastes of the Kalahari by necessity, and the flames that consumed her former home took whatever clothes she once had. Fate had never been truly kind to her. Before the passing of her sixth year, her mother and father had treated her as no more than a laborer at best, and at worst, an extra mouth to feed and clothe. The wizard Azimuth had rescued her from a life of drudgery and despair, and she'd been grateful for the new life he offered her, as strange as that new life had been.

Perhaps it would have been better if the wizard had let her die, she thought, for she'd become a curse both to him and herself. In order to save her friend Melissandra from what she thought was a fate worse than death, she'd managed to summon up a demon using forbidden lore she'd gained from study of the darker aspects of Azimuth's magic in his library. But she had been betrayed by Melissandra, and only later did she realize that they both had been manipulated into consummating a dark and devious design long anticipated by the demon imp, Zhagmyr Khan.

She'd freed Melissandra, but only at the cost of becoming a thrall to the demon, who would completely possess her body after a period of one year. Azimuth had been slain by were beasts of the forest, and with him had perished all his magic works, including the invisible barriers he'd constructed to protect them in their forest haven. Now she had been forced to flee the devil haunted forests of Werewood for fear of her life and soul.

She had come upon a vast waterless waste. As was well evidenced by her cracked and swollen lips and darkly burnt flesh, she'd been ill-prepared for a journey across the Kalahari Desert, a sun-scorched abyss that stretched for many days march in all directions. Her hair, once golden and crimson like the fire of a sunset, had been dulled by the dust of the trail. Her jade eyes had grown bloodshot and weary. Her loose-fitting doe-skin shirt was torn and frayed from sleeping on the ground. Her leather breeches were in tatters. Only her moccasins, laced tightly below her calves seemed to have withstood the rigors of the trail.

She had come driven by a desperate need, fleeing blindly from the doom that pursued her, straight on towards the doom which awaited. All that she owned she carried in the pack on her back. The water bag that hung by her side was already empty. She was weaponless, bearing only the ebon hued walking staff.

For a moment she halted, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the glare of the sun. Naught met her gaze but the endless monotony of the barren plain. The desert swam to her vision. Her throat was parched and swollen from dehydration. She knew she couldn't go on much further. Her strength had abandoned her. The end was near.

She stumbled on impossibly, only to collapse within a few yards and fall sprawling into the bitter dust. She was unable to rise again.

She knew not how long she lay there. Vaguely, the knowledge that she was dying began to forge itself into her departing senses, but she was unable to force herself to rise. The world was slowly slipping away. What a waste, she thought. I could have done so much more......

A furtive sound alerted her weary senses. From over the top of a low dune, a sleek panther silently stalked. Half-heartedly, Kore began to chant a spell of protection, but she knew she didn't have the energy to complete it. The great cat's whiskered jaws drew back to reveal inch long needle-sharp fangs. Kore prepared for death. But instead of a snarl, she heard a whispered voice which seemed to emanate from within her mind.

"You are the one I was told to seek," said the voice, the voice of a woman. "Can you stand? I can lead you to a place where there is water."

It's all a dream, Kore told herself. Its all a dream and I've lost my mind. I'm dying in the desert. There is no great black cat talking to me. It's all a product of my fevered imagination.

"If you wish to further doubt the evidence of your own senses, then stay here, by all means, and die," said the pantheress. "But I've been sent here to rescue you, whether you would believe me or not. Do you have strength enough to go on? The oasis isn't far."

Kore mustered the last vestiges of her remaining energy and stood before the great cat.

"Lead on," she said.

The panther spun lithely and set a nimble pace across the empty desert sands. Kore somehow trudged along behind, placing one leaden foot before another in an agonizing ritual of torture which seemed as if it would never end. Then, miraculously, when she thought she could go on no further, green grass and golden flowers began to spring up before her wondering eyes, and there, like a miracle of the gods, was a thin crystalline ribbon of water sparkling merrily in the afternoon sun. Huge willows lined its shore, their shade providing a much needed haven from the fiery demon that shone above.

Kore cried out with joy and fell to her knees in the cool water, splashing it over her dust streaked face and arms. Then she brought the cool nectar to her lips and drank her fill. Sanity returned slowly to her eyes.

"Do you feel better now?"

The pantheress was watching her from beneath the sweeping branches of the willow.

"Yes," she replied. "I thank you for your timely rescue. But how did you know of my danger?"

"I was ordered to find you and lead you to this safe haven by the cat queen, Shiamat. I am called Taerlen. I am one of the few of all my people who speak the tongue of men, for I am the daughter of Shiamat. That was why she chose to send me."

"Its most strange," said Kore. "Why should the queen of cats concern herself with me?"

"Because of a friendship she once made with a wizard. He saved the queen's life and this was an opportunity to return his favor."

"Azimuth," Kore said.

"Aye. That was the name of the wizard. He is a friend to all the beasts of the land and water. He knew my mother in the elder days."

"He was my mentor. We lived together in Werewood. He was slain and our home destroyed after I summoned a demon in order to save my friend . But the demon tricked me and now I seek some means to free my soul from eternal bondage. If I do not do so within the space of one year, I will be possessed forever by this demon, whose name is Zhagmyr Khan."

"That is a tragic tale," Taerlen commented. "Yet what is it you seek in these desert lands? There is naught that dares to live here."

"A vision of my mentor, which came to me in my dreams, told me to make my way to the city of Nantarri, which lies to the east, and when I arrive, I am to take passage on a certain ship I'll find docked there. I know no more, but it may be the only way to free myself from eternal bondage to Zhagmyr Khan."

"There were once caravan routes which stopped at these oases often in the time of my ancestors," Taerlen said. "But there were more rains then and now the traders no longer pass across these desert sands. Water is extremely scarce in these accursed lands, especially now in the heat of summer. This is the garden of Shiamat, and once it spread for miles along this forgotten vale, full of flowers without number, verdant forests, birds and all manners of four footed beasts, but now this is all that remains, the last refuge of the living amidst an utter desolation."

"I am eternally grateful," Kore said, "Though I fear I've naught to repay you for your kindness."

"The earth is kind," replied Taerlen. "The goddess is kind, and she gives to all. My kindness to you is but a repayment to her."

The pantheress stared up at the sun, which was at last sinking swiftly towards the western horizon.

"Rest here for a time," she said. "The day is swiftly drawing to a close."

II.

The sun at last sank behind the western horizon. Night fell swiftly. There was no moon, but the stars were flung like fairy dust flung across a midnight field, a stream, a cloud of shimmering light coursing cross the ebony sky.

Kore quickly fell asleep in the cool shade of the trees. For the first time in many days, she had no nightmares.

Taerlen woke her many hours later.

"The moon rises," she said. "Shiamat comes."

Kore shook the sleep from her eyes and looked around dazedly.

"Shiamat, coming here?" she asked, startled. "But why? Why does the queen of cats concern herself with me?"

"Because though you don't remember me," I know you only too well!" spoke a new voice.

Across the desert sands came a wondrous procession of three great cats. The first was a snow white tigress with immense golden eyes. She was flanked on both sides by two great leopards who walked in perfect pace with her, though always keeping several steps behind.

"There was a tigress like you when I was very young," Kore whispered. "I remember we used to play with you, all three of us girls when you visited Azimuth. That was a long time ago."

The white tigress rose up on her hind legs, and with an impossible delicacy, hugged Kore with both of her forepaws. In a moment, it was no longer a tigress that embraced her, but a very tall and beauteous lady. Her lithe form was draped in a long robe of white silk, and her hair flowed white and shining across her shoulders and back. Her eyes were still golden and cat like.

"To me, it seems only moments have passed," Shiamat said, and she smiled.

"This is beyond all wonder!" Kore exclaimed. "Legends are now come to life!"

The Lady Shiamat smiled once more. A gentle look she bestowed upon her. "You are not much more than a child in years. What know you of ancient legends?"

"Only that which Akhmun taught me, and those things I read unbidden in his library," Kore explained. "I know something of the Elder Gods."

"They were never gods," sighed the Lady. "You speak of the Elohim, who were created to be servants of the twelve, created to make manifest order from the chaos that was the earth. Nay, they were never gods, though even now they desire to be thought of as such by mortal beings. The years of their lives span beyond human imagining, but their power is not infinite, nor is the length of their lives. Even those that call themselves gods and goddesses must someday die, and the Elohim most dearly fear to do so."

"I've heard Azimuth speak of these things," admitted Kore, "But I haven't heard of any gods dying in this world."

Lady Shiamat laughed, and in that laughter there was only joy, but no mockery. "Gods and goddesses die all the time," she said. "I was one of the twelve that set out the land beyond the seas of light. In gleaming ships of glass and gold, we crossed the abyss of time and space and came at last to this world. Of the twelve, only three of us now still live. The rest have gone on."

"I've heard the stories," whispered Kore in awe. "But that means that you have lived years beyond counting, perhaps even beyond comprehension....!"

The golden eyes sparkled. "I told you, to me that you are no more than a child."

"That I can believe, but what was it that brought you to seek me out amidst these endless wastes?," she asked. "And how did you know where to find me?"

"I had a dream of Azimuth," answered Shiamat. "His spirit spoke to me in a vision, and he told me that he was dead."

"I fear your vision was true, and that it was I who was the cause of his death." Kore admitted, and her eyes held a haunted look. "I saw his spirit too, and he told me what I must do.........to heal the hurt I have done to myself......"

"I know well the curse that you carry in your soul," admitted the Lady. "And though Azimuth told me to aid you here in the desert, I know not what his ultimate plan for you was, nor can I even venture a guess."

"He appeared to me as if in a vision," Kore explained. "And told me to take this ebony box to the sea where a ship awaits me at the port of Nantarri. The name of the ship is the Sea Demon."

"That is a craft of ill omen," Lady Shiamat sighed, frowning. "It is the ship that men sail upon when they wish to make a pact with those that rule over the powers of evil. For gifts ephemeral and material that they themselves will name, they make bargains with their souls. I cannot imagine Azimuth advising you to take passage on that ship!"

"But he did," argued Kore, "And that is what I intend to do."

"Let me see the ebony box," said Shiamat.

Kore took out the box from her pack and slowly unwrapped the white silk that she had covered it with.

"There is a spell of containment surrounding it," Kore explained. "Else it would devour the light, even the light from the sun, and all would turn to midnight until it was covered once again."

The Lady Shiamat frowned, peering into the unfathomable black void that comprised the box.

"This is an ancient object of power," said the Lady. "I've heard rumors of such talismans, but the rumors have always been evil. Azimuth gave you no clue, no key to it's workings?"

"No," Kore replied. "He told me only to not let it out of my possession, and that I should find a way to open it."

"These objects can be very dangerous," Shiamat advised. "No one knows what it might contain. I do not trust it."

"I'll heed your advice," Kore promised. "But I must now make my way to Nantarri as swiftly as possible."

"Taerlen will guide you to the edge of the desert safely," Shiamat assured her. "You must make your own way to Nantarri from there. I must go now. Though my heart is touched with dire forebodings of this path you've chosen, I wish you a sincere farewell. You are a true and honest spirit, and pray that you'll succeed in your quest."

"One last question before you depart, if I might be so bold," said Kore. "How long did you know Azimuth?"

The Lady Shiamat smiled, and the light that shone from her was like the sun breaking over a mountain, and then she laughed, and the light that shone from her was too much for Kore to look upon and she shielded her eyes until it had passed.

"I've known him for a very long time" she said, the light still shimmering in her golden eyes. "Since the beginning, you might say. For you see, he was one of the twelve original companions, just as was I. Alas, there were but seven of us left on the earth! Now we are only six!"

And then before Kore could ask any more questions, she was gone, vanished into the night. Kore thought she saw a steak of white flashing across the starlit sky, but it was too swift to be certain she'd seen anything at all.

"She did you great honor," Taerlen told her as she crept from between the boles of two ash trees. "Not often does she deem to share her wisdom with humans."

"How does she transform from a great cat to a woman?" asked Kore. "That is greater magic than any I've ever seen."

"She is the Queen of Cats," answered Taerlen, as if this should explain everything. "All of her line can transform at will, for there is not just one body, but two."

"I don't understand."

"At the beginning, each of the twelve chose an animal and a human form, and it is their choice in which of these shapes they wish to appear," Taerlen explained. "It was while in their beast shapes that they made manifest the many tribes of creatures that now populate this world."

"And does each of these twelve tribes of beasts still have a king or queen?"

"Yes," Taerlen replied. "Each tribe has passed down the crown and the gift to it's descendants, so that there is always a king or queen. But many are growing wilder every century, forgetting the ways of their forebears and descending once more to the bestial. Many have now forgotten how to converse in the language of men."

Kore looked into the great pantheress' copper hued eyes.

"I thank you, Taerlen, for all that you are doing for me," she said. "I hope that one day I can repay you in some way."

"I but do the will of my queen," Taerlen smiled. "But even if I had found you without knowing who you were, I would have tried to help you, for you seem of good heart."

"I hope your trust is not misplaced," said Kore. Then she went to the creek to fill her water bag and freshen her face. She rejoined Taerlen.

"If we continue to the east," said Taerlen, "We'll come eventually to the Forbidden Sands. No man or beast can survive there. We must skirt to the north around it to reach the oasis on the other side. From there, it's only a short journey to the Kalihara River, which you can follow all the way to the Atlantean Sea and the port of Nantarri."

"Why not cut across these Forbidden Sands?" Kore suggested, "And thus avoid the toil of so many unnecessary miles?"

"Because in that place lies the Valley of Ghosts, wherein stands the Dream Tower. It was there that Lemurian wizards of ancient days wove the terrible magic with which they drew forth those beings called the Elohim from beyond the stars. It was the action of those gods coming to this plane which created the Forbidden Sands in the first place. It's certain doom to go there!"

"Why do you speak of doom?" asked Kore. "What evil hangs over this Valley of Ghosts?"

"I cannot say, exactly," Taerlen replied. "It's always been taboo for any creature to enter that valley. No beast, bird, or lizard dwells anywhere near there. All creatures have shunned the place."

"But if there is a city, there may be food, or weapons," Kore pointed out. "I'll need these things to survive."

"Cities are the abodes of men, and are thus accursed," Taerlen replied. "If you go to the Valley of Ghosts, you must go alone."

Kore pondered these words for a time.

"You've been a good friend to me, Taerlen," she said at last. "And I know your advice is probably wise. But I cannot forgo the exploration of this unknown city. Call it human curiosity, if you will, but I will go to the Valley of Ghosts."

"I call it madness," answered Taerlen. "But I see your mind is set, and won't seek further to deter you. I'll lead you to the border of the valley, but I'll go no further."

Thousands of stars flamed high above, flickering like the eyes of demons. Only the mournful sigh of the desert wind disturbed the silence. The last remnants of the sun's dying fire stained the western horizon in colors of orange and deep crimson. To Kore, it all seemed like a dream. Even the great black cat which paced beside her was no more than a shadowy fantasy. Her eyes burned as crimson as the light of the stars above.

"Tell me more about Shiamat," said Kore.