The Fading Dream (Thorn of Breland) by Keith Baker

Author:Keith Baker [Baker, Keith]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Wizards of the Coast Publishing
Published: 2010-10-12T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

Shaelas Tiraleth, the Mournland

Barrakas 24, 999 YK

If Thorn was surprised by the stranger, the fey were shocked. Tira’s expression was hidden beneath her veil, but she seemed to be at a loss for words.

“I hope you’ll forgive me for letting myself in,” the man said. He was an eladrin—though his eyes were darker than his cousins’, and he was somewhat more muscular, but the fey features were unmistakable. He dropped to one knee. “Now that I am here, I present myself as a guest and formally ask for your hospitality, Lady Tira.”

“Who are you?” Tira said, her voice tight.

“You know who I am,” he said. “Shan Doresh, lord of the Dreaming Citadel.”

“The Dreaming Citadel was destroyed long ago.”

“What would you know of it?” The man rose to his feet. His voice was steady, but his dark eyes gleamed. “When the Cul’sir enslaved our kin, I came to this council and I called on your predecessors to gird themselves for war, to destroy those who would commit such atrocities. Instead they hid behind shadows and illusions, leaving my people to face the titans alone.”

“It is true,” Tira said. “When Shan Doresh came to the Council of the Silver Tree, my grandfather and the other lords and ladies refused to aid him, seeing only madness in his plan. But Shan Doresh was blinded by his dreams of glory and vengeance and led his people to their end. None of those who fought at his side were ever seen again, and the spire never returned to Thelanis. And so the question remains: Who are you to taunt us with this deception?”

“There is more to reality than even you know,” the man said. “When we stood alone against the Cul’sir horde, we struck fear into the heart of their emperor. He could not defeat us in battle. And so he used treachery. From the lowest eladrin to the mightiest ghaele, when we walk this realm, we are creatures of two worlds, poised between Thelanis and Eberron. The emperor and his wizards caught at that thread and unraveled it, twisting our connection to the Faerie Court and binding us to a new realm: Dal Quor, the Region of Dreams. We fell from this reality, and for an untold time, we existed only as dreams in mortal minds, rarely seen and quickly forgotten. Time in that place is different even than in fair Thelanis, and you cannot conceive of the lengths we went to find our way back to this world. In the end, something pulled us back, reestablished our connection to the material plane. I can only believe it was you, Lady Tira—that the mystical shock wave that flowed out of the Silver Tree reached us even in the dark shadows of dream.”

“So you truly claim to be—”

“It is no claim,” the man said. “I am Shan Doresh. I faced the emperor Cul’sir in battle. I bear the Stone of Dreams, given to me when Ourelon’s Gift was shattered in this chamber. I have spent an eternity in dreams, and now I have returned.

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