Silas' Dream 1

Silas found himself at a long banquet table. The table stretched on down the room until it faded from his field of vision, a combination of the sheer size of the table and the dim lighting of the room, alone kept aglow by the flickering of small candles on the walls. Adorned over the table was a fine silk tablecloth of royal purple, and on it lay foods he had only ever dreamed of eating. Finely cooked meat, sweet pastries, cooked vegetables, and fresh fruit covered every inch of the table in sight not set with a plate and silverware. After a moment of taking in all before him, he could hear the clatter of a fork hitting plate, the cutting of meat, followed by chewing. He looked to his right, and beside him sat a large man. It was a Sakhra, obvious by the man's size, one of the odd races common to the snowy North. Large and imposing, he was dressed in a fine black suite, tightly fit over his muscle filled frame. He kept his eyes down to his food as he chewed, straightening his impressive posture only to swallow, before he looked over and met Silas' stare.

"Are you not hungry? Help yourself."

Silas, not breaking his gaze from the figure, went to move his hand, only to realize it was chained to the arms of the chair he sat out.

"Men set themselves to work to achieve greatness. Yet no man has worked his way into being a king. It is given to you by birhtright. So too it is with greatness. You are born to be great, to stand above others in this world, or you are born to be ruled by those who are great." The sakhran man went to work eating another piece of the meat before continuing. "There is a destiny for those meant for greatness. You too hold this destiny, Silas. In the coming days, you may yet run into a follower of an old way, of the Red Hand. When you do, you must spare his life. You must allow him safe passage. Alone through his machinations is your destiny to play out, and for you to find your throne." As the hulking man finished his last sentence, one by one each candle lighting the dining hall began to blow out, until all that was left was total darkness, and the sound of chewing.

The young man awoke and sat up in bed, the morning sun burning gently through the shades of his window. Since that faithful hour, since the bargain was struck, dreams like this hadn't been uncommon, though this was the first time the man had spoken to him. What could it mean? He stood and began to gather his things, focusing on the journey he knew stood before him and his friends.