Dreams of Imahken

The keeper takes note of every sound.

 From atop the mountain, Ciun idly listened into the senseless babble of Illus's lost mind. He was alone in the shed with the poems, as he had been for the past two days. When day turned to night, the fox came to boast of his victory.

He called up the mountain from the outcropping where once there had been a poem. "There will be no more for you, sorceress. Your consort has been overcome by duress."

Nothing from Ciun in response.

This roused the fox further. "It may be rude of me to ask, but is there hopelessness behind your mask? Oh, what is another broken mind, of yet another man who pined? In words his wrath shines through, or maybe it's all a shattered spew." The fox cackled low to itself.

Again, Ciun had nothing to say.

The fox was growing keener to her sullen disposition. "Do not feign shame and guilt, when a crumbling tower was all you built. You have no room to show such grief, after every other life of whom twere the thief."

The mask turned toward the fox, still silent.

It cackled, eyes not cheery, but beyond hateful. "I know you see, it's not by me."

She rose to her feet.

The fox grimaced at her. "My honest face you may yet banish, but your evils shall never vanish. This prison is your condemnation. Hold that thought in your lonely contemplation."

A shimmering specter of Enae appeared where the fox stood, translucent azure cuffs chained to the mask on her face. "Sister, I beg of you to be free. Did you ever care about me?"

Ciun walked away, disappearing to where the fox could not see her. "See me not, ears yet spot. Ears plugged and eye blind, you he will not find. Offer your mask here, you have none to fear. What power is worth the peace? Can this game not finally cease? Toiled have I so long, you think I will do you wrong. I am not the evil of this game, for you I cannot say the same."

The fox awaited a response, but nothing came.

"It's my honest hope you will leave him alone, your misled man whose truth you will never let be shown." The fox released his specter of Illus babbling in the shed. "How he longs to be saved, from the catacombs you braved."

The mask locked onto the fox and Ciun took off without a beat, disappearing from the fox's sight faster than it could track.

The fox cackled and whispered on the wind to Ciun. "Days have passed, only a miracle could last."

Dull white noise and dripping water surrounded Illus in his tomb.

His mind had drifted, perhaps to comfort him, or perhaps because he was dying. But he wondered where he had gone? How he had gotten so lost? He wasn't sure when he lost sight of himself. Had he? Or had this been a grave misplay in his attempt?

He found home in his mind, but nobody was there. Nobody was around. Nothing was there. It was just as dark and empty as the catacombs.

And he finally escaped his trance, the delusions he had been enraptured in. He struggled to lift his arm, to knock bones from the shelves around him as his head spun.

He tossed his arm around the floor weakly until eventually it hung in the air.

"That's funny," Illus's voice popped and croaked, barely audible, "it feels like I'm floating."

Weightless, sensation leaving his body, he seemed to levitate without reason. Cool metal scraped his chapped lips and water streamed down his parched throat.