thoughts rolling sluggishly over in his head.
* * *
When Raettonus went to sleep it was very reluctantly, hours later. On the desk, the stone figures taunted him, so he snuffed out the fire in the brazier. The darkness didn’t help much; he could still feel them there. The gryphon, he felt, was watching him accusingly. The unicorn was pleading. The phoenix was…hateful. Hateful was the only word for it.
He slept, finally. His dream was very familiar to him. It was less a dream and more a memory, and he had dreamed it more times than he could count. He was in Slade’s room, on his bed, his head pressed close against his master’s chest. Raettonus’ hands and stomach were covered in blood, and it was soaking through the mattress all around him. By the window, the drapes flapped, and outside the rain fell. Raettonus’ face was wet from tears, but he wasn’t crying—for now. If he looked up and saw Slade’s face, he’d certainly start crying once again. He was so afraid and uncertain. He tried wrapping his arms around his master’s still form, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t comforting. Slowly, he withdrew his hands and gripped himself instead. As he closed his eyes a sob wracked Raettonus’ chest.
“There’s nothing sadder than a grown man crying,” said a smooth, familiar voice.
Raettonus felt his organs clench inside him and opened his eyes to find himself beside the reflective pool outside the temple on the bluff with the masked elf standing over him. Raettonus looked up at him slowly. The masked man only smiled back at him mildly, his eyes glowing in the moonlight like a cat’s. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” Raettonus mumbled. “Except stop putting those stupid statues in my room.”
“Oh, good,” said the elf. “So you did get my messages, then? I was worried. You’ve been hiding from me, Raettonus. That was some sort of spell you cast. Impressive, really. Bravo.”
“I know who you are,” said Raettonus. He stood up and was eye-level with the elf. “You’re Kimohr Raulinn.”
The corner of the elf’s mouth twitched upwards into a smirk. “It was the temple that gave it away, wasn’t it? Damn. I knew we should’ve met in a quaint little pastry shop instead of the temple,” he said. “But yes—Kimohr Raulinn the chaos god, son of the moon, at your service. I wondered when you didn’t know at first, but you were asleep so I didn’t hold it against you. No man’s brain works quite right when he is dreaming.”
“I want to know why you sent me that phoenix,” Raettonus demanded.
With a soft chuckle, Kimohr Raulinn sat down at the pool’s edge. Pulling his robes up to his knees, he submerged his bare feet in the water. “Sit with me a while. There’s no need to be confrontational,” he said. Reluctantly, Raettonus sat cross-legged beside him. “It was no easy task to find out what I should send to you. I mean, I knew about the heraldry animals from your world, and that you were very attached to the banner of your master, which had a gryphon on it. And I knew that Sir Rhodes had a unicorn on his, because when I looked in on him I saw it on his tunic, beneath his robe. I’m sure he misses being nobility, the way he still wears his coat of arms after all these years. Or maybe it’s his father he misses.”
Kimohr Raulinn turned his face upward, toward the partially clouded night sky. “But you—who were you? Not a gryphon,” he said. “I had to look into your world to find out, and it was no easy task.”
“It was a red phoenix on a field of pure white,” Raettonus muttered. “That was my family’s coat of arms.”
“And a very fitting one it is,” Kimohr Raulinn said. “I didn’t see it on anything you owned. I had to look into your world. Quite a feat, that, since my power as a god does not extend beyond my realm. It was made even harder, because the world you think you came from is not, in fact, the world you did come from. They’re
* * *
When Raettonus went to sleep it was very reluctantly, hours later. On the desk, the stone figures taunted him, so he snuffed out the fire in the brazier. The darkness didn’t help much; he could still feel them there. The gryphon, he felt, was watching him accusingly. The unicorn was pleading. The phoenix was…hateful. Hateful was the only word for it.
He slept, finally. His dream was very familiar to him. It was less a dream and more a memory, and he had dreamed it more times than he could count. He was in Slade’s room, on his bed, his head pressed close against his master’s chest. Raettonus’ hands and stomach were covered in blood, and it was soaking through the mattress all around him. By the window, the drapes flapped, and outside the rain fell. Raettonus’ face was wet from tears, but he wasn’t crying—for now. If he looked up and saw Slade’s face, he’d certainly start crying once again. He was so afraid and uncertain. He tried wrapping his arms around his master’s still form, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t comforting. Slowly, he withdrew his hands and gripped himself instead. As he closed his eyes a sob wracked Raettonus’ chest.
“There’s nothing sadder than a grown man crying,” said a smooth, familiar voice.
Raettonus felt his organs clench inside him and opened his eyes to find himself beside the reflective pool outside the temple on the bluff with the masked elf standing over him. Raettonus looked up at him slowly. The masked man only smiled back at him mildly, his eyes glowing in the moonlight like a cat’s. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” Raettonus mumbled. “Except stop putting those stupid statues in my room.”
“Oh, good,” said the elf. “So you did get my messages, then? I was worried. You’ve been hiding from me, Raettonus. That was some sort of spell you cast. Impressive, really. Bravo.”
“I know who you are,” said Raettonus. He stood up and was eye-level with the elf. “You’re Kimohr Raulinn.”
The corner of the elf’s mouth twitched upwards into a smirk. “It was the temple that gave it away, wasn’t it? Damn. I knew we should’ve met in a quaint little pastry shop instead of the temple,” he said. “But yes—Kimohr Raulinn the chaos god, son of the moon, at your service. I wondered when you didn’t know at first, but you were asleep so I didn’t hold it against you. No man’s brain works quite right when he is dreaming.”
“I want to know why you sent me that phoenix,” Raettonus demanded.
With a soft chuckle, Kimohr Raulinn sat down at the pool’s edge. Pulling his robes up to his knees, he submerged his bare feet in the water. “Sit with me a while. There’s no need to be confrontational,” he said. Reluctantly, Raettonus sat cross-legged beside him. “It was no easy task to find out what I should send to you. I mean, I knew about the heraldry animals from your world, and that you were very attached to the banner of your master, which had a gryphon on it. And I knew that Sir Rhodes had a unicorn on his, because when I looked in on him I saw it on his tunic, beneath his robe. I’m sure he misses being nobility, the way he still wears his coat of arms after all these years. Or maybe it’s his father he misses.”
Kimohr Raulinn turned his face upward, toward the partially clouded night sky. “But you—who were you? Not a gryphon,” he said. “I had to look into your world to find out, and it was no easy task.”
“It was a red phoenix on a field of pure white,” Raettonus muttered. “That was my family’s coat of arms.”
“And a very fitting one it is,” Kimohr Raulinn said. “I didn’t see it on anything you owned. I had to look into your world. Quite a feat, that, since my power as a god does not extend beyond my realm. It was made even harder, because the world you think you came from is not, in fact, the world you did come from. They’re
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