Ymiden 25, Arc 720
The son of Ziell woke to the sunlight caressing his face, a gentle warmth upon his skin, and the song of birds, somewhere outside his bedroom window. For a moment, he simply lay there, under the soft covers, wondering why there were birds in Viden, where there was only ice and snow, and then he opened his eyes abruptly, to a world that was not his own. The room that he was in was his bedroom, with the fireplace and the luxurious four-poster-bed, but the view from his window was different, a summer landscape, a lush, green park, trees and flowers, and a hint of a beach and the ocean in the distance.
He abruptly rose to his feet, took the dressing gown that was lying on a chair near his bed, black and silver, just like the dressing gown that he wore in the waking world (although he wasn’t sure if that was the correct term for the place where he usually was – was he not awake and lucid now?) and put it over the pair of pajamas that he was wearing before he opened the door, wondering what he would find in the hallway, or in the other rooms. Elias, his mortal cook, was at work in the kitchen, as always, but there was something different about him.
The Etzori had been a soldier once, and he had retired after he had been wounded in battle. He usually walked with a slight limp, but there was not a hint of that limp now. He nodded at him, momentarily a little unsure about what he should say to him or how he should treat him. Was this the real Elias, the Elias that was dreaming a dream about work, a landscape that was so unlike that which he had grown accustomed to and a leg that had never been injured? Were the two of them in this dream together, or was the mortal not real, but only something that his subconscious had decided to put into his dream?
Had this Elias been motivated by some sort of desire to help his servant?
“Master, I have made coffee for you”, Elias spoke, in the slight Etzori accent that he was used to and placed a cup of the steaming hot drink in front of him while he sat down. He looked at it. He had never drunk something in a dream before, at least not while he had been lucid. He remembered the potion that Llyr and he had made in his dream laboratory once. They had not dared to drink something that had been made with ingredients that did not really exist. Would the coffee be just like normal coffee, would it harm him, would he get sick if he drank it, or would it simply not provide him with any nourishment?
He decided to not take any chances. He did not want to offend this man that might or might not be the real Elias though, and thus he told him that he would drink the coffee in his study, that he had not been able to finish the essay that he had been working on the trial before and needed to take care of it immediately now (which was something that actually happened every now and then and that Elias was thus used to – he was a busy man ).
The son of Ziell woke to the sunlight caressing his face, a gentle warmth upon his skin, and the song of birds, somewhere outside his bedroom window. For a moment, he simply lay there, under the soft covers, wondering why there were birds in Viden, where there was only ice and snow, and then he opened his eyes abruptly, to a world that was not his own. The room that he was in was his bedroom, with the fireplace and the luxurious four-poster-bed, but the view from his window was different, a summer landscape, a lush, green park, trees and flowers, and a hint of a beach and the ocean in the distance.
He abruptly rose to his feet, took the dressing gown that was lying on a chair near his bed, black and silver, just like the dressing gown that he wore in the waking world (although he wasn’t sure if that was the correct term for the place where he usually was – was he not awake and lucid now?) and put it over the pair of pajamas that he was wearing before he opened the door, wondering what he would find in the hallway, or in the other rooms. Elias, his mortal cook, was at work in the kitchen, as always, but there was something different about him.
The Etzori had been a soldier once, and he had retired after he had been wounded in battle. He usually walked with a slight limp, but there was not a hint of that limp now. He nodded at him, momentarily a little unsure about what he should say to him or how he should treat him. Was this the real Elias, the Elias that was dreaming a dream about work, a landscape that was so unlike that which he had grown accustomed to and a leg that had never been injured? Were the two of them in this dream together, or was the mortal not real, but only something that his subconscious had decided to put into his dream?
Had this Elias been motivated by some sort of desire to help his servant?
“Master, I have made coffee for you”, Elias spoke, in the slight Etzori accent that he was used to and placed a cup of the steaming hot drink in front of him while he sat down. He looked at it. He had never drunk something in a dream before, at least not while he had been lucid. He remembered the potion that Llyr and he had made in his dream laboratory once. They had not dared to drink something that had been made with ingredients that did not really exist. Would the coffee be just like normal coffee, would it harm him, would he get sick if he drank it, or would it simply not provide him with any nourishment?
He decided to not take any chances. He did not want to offend this man that might or might not be the real Elias though, and thus he told him that he would drink the coffee in his study, that he had not been able to finish the essay that he had been working on the trial before and needed to take care of it immediately now (which was something that actually happened every now and then and that Elias was thus used to – he was a busy man ).
