It looks like my house. The lawn needs cutting like my front lawn. The cracks in the sidewalk and street are the same as what is in front of my house. But this isn’t my house. The sunlight had a blue tint to it. The scent of the flowers was a little too sharp for mere roses. And last time I looked, the bees making the rounds were not the size of baseballs.
I’m dreaming.
Okay.
I’m dreaming my house? No, I’m dreaming my territory. I’m just not all the way into the dream to see things more clearly. Symbols and metaphors it is then. Not a problem. I’ll just go ahead and rake up the leaves before cutting the grass.
At the first touch of rake to pile of leaves, a number of weasels dart from their hiding place and attempt to enter the open garage. Except the wards on the house itself repels them. They bounce off and skitter to hide in the bushes. I stand there with a raised eyebrow and humored smirk on my face. I know they can’t enter the house, but they are on my land. They weren’t running to hide from me, so I suppose they can wait until I get the rest of the leaves raked up. No sense giving chase where no chase is warranted.
I turn back to the piles when I hear a familiar rumble. I look up to see two lions striding arrogantly down my street. The few people that are outside see them, and flee inside their homes, screaming as they run. I watch them long enough to note their path is leading them directly to my house. I’ve dreamt lions on my street before. I didn’t put up with their shit then, and I’m not putting up with it now.
I want to bring out the heavy weapons, but I also remember the Lion Progenitor Spirit that judged me the first time. I don’t want to risk getting on that spirit’s bad side. These two are adolescents, this is probably their first hunt. They swagger with the cockiness of book learning, and lack the honed stealthy footfalls of experience.
Why would I associate these two lions with reading? What am I not seeing? No time to second-guess myself, time to make a ruckus. I take the large metal rake and bounce it off the concrete driveway. It makes a horrific scraping sound and sets my teeth on edge. I sudden realize I can not hear the weasels anymore, but I am very aware of where they are hiding on my property. I am also aware this is only because they want me to know where they are.
One lion looks at me immediately and stops. The build of the body tells me this is a young lioness. Her golden eyes take in the flimsy rake, my sturdy stance, and the expression on my face. I can tell she recognizes I am not just a homeowner making noise. The sound is a promise of retaliation to those that can hear. She hears me quite well. She scans my yard looking for something, but makes sure I can see that she keeps glancing back at me.
The other lion is nuzzling the young lioness. A male whose mane has just barely begun to grow in, he is too busy trying to convince the lioness that their quarry can wait for another time. Acting like an large spoiled house cat, he purrs and headbutts the lioness to distraction.
She swipes at him, and though they are both in lion form, I can hear her chastisement as surely as if two human teens were standing there. “Stop it. Gawd. Pay attention, this is serious shit.”
The male feigns wounding. “It’s only serious when the Masters are around. And they aren’t. Ain’t nothing here more terrible than us. Those shits won’t get far, they’re cornered. What say you and I take our time and…” He lays a paw on her back in obvious lust.
She turns and bites him viciously on the leg. “Stop it! Don’t you see who is in front of us! If that’s who I think it is, this is very fucking serious!”
The lion finally looks at me, and yawns. “It’s a human, that can see us, and has a twig to defend herself with. Want some lunch? Is this who they are hiding behind?” The lion nuzzles the lioness as he starts to come forward to confront me. I note his tail drags along her body, much to her annoyance.
I wait until I have his attention fully, and bring the rake against the driveway again. I remain in human form, but the utterance I make is anything but human. The lion stops and stares at me. “What is that?”
“A human. Like you said. Go ahead, test her. I see them, they are hiding in her territory. We’ll have to challenge her for rights to enter it, it’s clear she’s not going to just allow us to come in and get them.”
He backed up a few paces. “Can she hear us?”
“No, the glamour is covering everything here. She probably sees us as something threatening to her, though.”
“Change the glamour.”
“Can’t. Once she sees us, the appearance won’t change until she leaves.”
Okay, so they are not lions. And this is not my house. It’s my territory, that I am seeing as my house. So then I’m seeing them as lions because somehow, lions refer to what they really are. Then what the hell are the weasels!
He paces back and forth, remaining a few feet away from my property line. She remains standing in the middle of the street, watching me intently. The weasels are trapped, there is only one direction they can leave my property and the lions are waiting for them to make the attempt.
“You know her?”, the lion glances back at the lioness, exposing his neck clearly. If I had a spear instead of a rake, I could have easily impaled him. But I wanted them to make the first move. I want to make sure I am justified in defending myself.
“These lands… That smell… Yea. I’ve heard of her. I won’t say her name though. If she is who I think she is, just saying her name will break the glamour.” She takes a few steps closer and sees one of the Weasels. “There! I found one! You keep her busy, and I’ll snatch this little shit!”
The lion charges at me, but I ignore him and move to intercept the lioness. I wait until she has a paw on my property before quickly charging the rake. It shatters on contact with her, but her offense is rewarded with the shattering of a shoulder blade. The male jumps to attack me from the rear, but I dodge out of the way and he winds up jumping on the wounded lioness instead. I throw aside the splintered remains of the rake and call my runeblades to hand. It’s been a while since I wielded Isa and Kenaz in combat. It felt good to have them again. I didn’t notice my afro had changed to a head of sleek black feathers.
“SHIT! IT IS HER! Run away! Don’t try to take her on!” The lioness scrambles out from under her flailing companion and runs to the house down the street. Once out of projectile range she roars and opens a rip in the dream’s fabric. The rip closes behind her and she escapes. He turns in tight circles trying to orient himself. He didn’t pay attention when they were smugly approaching my property, and now without her to direct him, he was lost.
He was also still on my property.
I still had full right of defense.
I could have killed him. Instead, I waited until he had turned away from me, and punted him in his rump with such fierceness I felt his hip break. He wisely decided that remaining with me would be a bad idea and pulled himself away from the source of pain and into the street. He didn’t wait to be a safe distance away from me before escaping through his own rip.
I noted both lions, despite appearing as mere lions, were able to temporarily patch up their wounds to the point of being able to flee. There were some strong magics being thrown around here. I just didn’t know by who or why.
“Thank you for chasing off those two assassins!” One of the weasels came out from its hiding place and was pulling on my pant leg. “If I may, I would like to formally ask for asylum for myself and my fellows within your gates! We shall not be a drain on your resources, we promise!”
The presentation of the weasel would have been quite confusing if I didn’t remember the glamour was still in strong effect. I filed away the information the presentation gave away. “No. I harbor none within my gates. I am being intentionally misled about who the lions were, who you are, and why the drama came to my doorstep today. I can not prevent any from coming onto the lands surrounding my lair, as I do not claim them. I suggest you find someplace better to hide. I am sure they will be back now that they know who I am.”
“Ah. I understand. Yes, if you can not see us or them clearly, you run the risk of being manipulated for political gain to your detriment. You say these surrounding lands are not ruled? This works to our favor! Yes, we shall be able to hide ourselves until rescue arrives, and without placing you in the middle of this very unfortunate circumstance. You have assisted us greatly with your neutrality. We shall not forget your honesty.” The weasels gathered themselves and what little free resources they could take with them, and scurried around the fence to a neighboring yard.
I looked at the shattered remains of the rake and noted despite knowing where I was, I still could not see past the glamour. There is no telling where my fire is, then. I was safer to just go inside the lair and wait for this to expire.
I started towards the open garage door when a sudden dust devil overtook me. Dust and hot air swirled around me, blinding and choking me. As suddenly as it enveloped me, it had moved on down the street. I looked after it in wonder, noting that such air phenomena has only happened once at my house in the waking.
I did not notice I had broken out in a sweat. I continued into the house. I did notice I was hungry. And feverish. And strange desires danced in my blood. I heard myself laughing and was frightened. This wasn’t the chuckles of bad puns and strained humor. This was the onset of bloodlust.
The dust devil. It… Magics…
My cognitive thought was devoured by the waking dark instinct. I hungered. I wanted a fight. I wanted to hear the sound of flesh ripping, and the cries of something being wounded. In a distant corner of my mind, a glimmer was holding out against the undue influence. It wants me to attack the weasels. Because they are small and vulnerable. No. I will not. But I can’t hold back. But I know someone that can hold me back.
I ran into the lair, looking for Snake. I kept telling myself that I was seeking him out for help. I was almost out of control and he would be one of the few that could restrain me if I lost all cognition. That was the lie I was telling myself.
But I was in full bloodlust.
And I have a lot of resentment against my jailor.
The bloodlust wanted a fight, and I had a reason to indulge it.
The glamour ended where the lair began. I ran into the main chamber of the lair to see Berber Snake reading various papers while enjoying a nice cup of tea. He looked up to greet me. His face smoothed in alarm as he braced for my launched assault over the table. By the time I was within arms reach, Naga Snake was ready for my wild swings.
One hand grabbed my right forearm. One hand grabbed my left forearm. Together those two pinned me to the table, but I still attempted to kick and bite at him. The bulk of his tail took the brunt of the kicks, and soon folded them under the table. One hand grabbed me about the neck and forced my head to the table. The last hand checked my forehead and searched for obvious marks or wounds. The fight was effectively over in the blink of an eye. I was securely restrained.
“What the hell has gotten into you, Weaver? Are you seriously trying to attack me?” He smiled in wonder even as I struggling in vain against his grip. “You are. But you are not yourself.” He wiped dust off of my face and licked it. His mirth twisted into anger as he recognized the taste. “No. You are yourself, but without your mental restraints. Who dusted you, Weaver? Who cut your rage free? What dropped you into berserker mode?”
I continued to rage impotently against him. I could hear and understand his words, but I had no words of my own to answer him with. I only wanted the song of screaming. He sighed. “Okay. I’ll try to end this as gently as I can. If you can understand me, don’t panic.” He tightened his grip on my neck, choking me and restricting blood flow. I did understand him, but I panicked anyway. Finally my physical reserves exhausted and I passed out on the table.
When I woke, I found myself naked under the pelts and freshly washed. My neck, arms, and legs were sore and bruised. I coughed from the soreness in my throat. Snake’s naga face came into view. “Welcome back to the land of the thinking. Don’t make me drag the story out of you.”
“Lions. And weasels. And I had a possible idea about what the lions were, but now after that bullshit, I know for sure.”
“Weaver. All of it. Now.” His eyes started to change hue to the blood red of compulsion. I looked away before he could exert himself over my will. I told the entire event, and what I suspected the lions of being, and what I suspected was in the dust devil, and why I chose to attack him instead of going after the weasels like I was directed to.
“You chose well to attack me instead of the… weasels. You had enough of your wits in place to make yourself as vulnerable as possible to me, and not to call any of your weapons. You are correct about the true nature of the lions and the dust devil, and what was in the dust devil. I only needed to know why you were targeted.” He held a cup of honeyed and herbed tea in front of me. I sat up and took it without question. “Sip, don’t gulp.” He sighed. Two of his hands tightened into fists from severe anger.
I’ve never known Snake to be truly angry. Upset, pissed, annoyed, vengeful, and parental, yes. But raging? Snake doesn’t rage. He’s too cool to rage.
“Are you headed anywhere else tonight?” I shook my head. The berserker rage had consumed all of my energy. All I wanted to do was lay down, burrow under the pelts, and snore for a few years. “Good. Your part in this is done. I was assaulted as a direct result of their actions. My charge was placed in severe danger as a direct result of their actions. This will not be forgiven nor forgotten.”
“Snake?”
“If anyone asks you about what happened here, you are to tell them that the [Lord of the Waters] is investigating the matter. They dared to touch you without cause. It’s not like you went a-wandering through their lands again. They came to my… your front door and threw filthy magics on you! I will not tolerate their intrusion. I understand you have your role to play in the realms, but they knew who and what you are, and they knew who is with you. Your moment on this stage is done. My turn.”
The more Snake ranted, the more formal and stiff he became. Still remaining in his naga form, his body appeared to… mature. When he finished speaking, he turned to me and stunned me with his appearance. If it wasn’t for the glint of his eyes, I would not have recognized him.
I keep forgetting that Snake, while my guardian, companion, and friend, is still very much an ethereal lord of his own domain. He rules it from afar, choosing to remain with me despite all my difficulties.
The Naga Lord filled the space of the chamber, if not with his body, then with his presence. He was not wearing the artifacts of his office. He didn’t need to. Water requires no announcement to make itself known.
“Weaver.” He held a hand out to me. I noted the color of his skin and his scales as I took it. He pulled me close and embraced me with a gentility I did not expect this increased form to have. “You only know one part of this. I would that you know no further. The… weasels… did not accidentally find their way here. The moment they came into your realm, they had sanctuary from their pursuers regardless of your involvement. That is all you need to know. Boundaries were crossed, you were abused, and now I shall restore the currents to their proper flow.”
He released me. “Stay.”, he commanded.
I didn’t pout or feign emotional wounding. I just nodded and called my minions to myself. I told them I was not to be disturbed unless absolutely necessary and burrowed back under the pelts. As I did, I heard Snake leaving the lair. It wasn’t until he left that I realized he smelled like the ocean while he was here, but left the scent of a fresh water spring in his wake.