The Dream in the Forge

One night, Casamir was victim to a deep sleep. A sleep that when he awoke from, he was still within a dream. Around him stood slithering metal vines. A corridor with darkness at the end lay ahead of him. The hit of a hammer against temperate metal showered his ears with unease. The sound echoed around him, and his body shook with violence only a god could instill into someone. 

The only thing he could do was move forward, for instinctively, he knew that if he turned he would die. His feet were almost silent against the ground, a ground which also contained moving parts. Parts in which his mind could not conceive, sliding pieces of sharp steel. Metal cart wheels moved large doors with odd materials, helping pull them open. 

Casamir regretted every glimpse he got into the rooms. The room he first glimpsed was filled with steam and a sweet scent. He could not see into the room but within he saw shadows. Shadows intertwined and made weird motions upon one another, they seemed to be Meliusse but Casamir had no knowledge. One of the shadows was larger than the other, the other looked more like a woman, yet the shapes constantly shifted. So Casamir had no true clue of what was within the steam. He tried to enter the room, but his regret was instant.

The steam entered his lungs bringing him to his knees. His body began to quiver and his skin shriveled. Every inch he'd given to the steam, took its toll. Trying to return to the corridor proved much harder than exiting it. Before he could lose his life, the metal vines grabbed him and tossed him into the corridor. His body hit the ground like an empty satchel and for many moments his body stayed that way. 

When it finally returned to its former state Casamir continued moving. As he moved he refused to look into any more rooms. His resolve slowly wore off, and as he continued he began to glimpse into the rooms. With great luck, his resolve didn't tear until he entered the large chamber. For what felt like hours, he'd been stuck in complete darkness, and then sparks flew around. 

A massive hammer, with a handle four times Casamir's height, was slamming into a piece of metal. With a closer look Casamir realised it was a bracelet. Then the bracelet was shattered into thousands of pieces, many of these pieces lodged themselves into his skin. Then with the surge of pain the pieces were gone. 

Another bracelet took its place, glowing red with the heat of great Drakan. It's heat pulsating to the room, sweat pouring down Casamir's face. Then it happened, the hammer didn't shatter the bracelet and so flew up into the sky. The piece was then engulfed in such flame Casamir had little chance to see the bracelet before it was burnt to ash. 

With the bracelet turned to ash, Casamir woke into the real world with a startle and he was spared no time. The soldiers who'd been previously kind souls, began searching for any reason to grab people. Casamir lacked any understanding of what had transpired and grabbed his things before running into the city.

The city was just as orderless as the board he'd been in. Peasants were being dragged from their families and children were being snatched. All the soldiers had faces of stern order. Their minds were not with them in their actions and Casamir understood that. He didn't stay in the city, opting to sneak his way to the top of the wall. 

There he looked upon the people, thousands being marched out of the city. Casamir at this moment had no clue the scale of what had just taken place. These people were like ants, droves of them headed from the city. Hundreds of soldiers guiding them, and holding the chains that bound them. Casamir did not enjoy the view and found a great amount of disgust in his heart for the lord who ruled the city. He'd never expected such an action and so anger took him. 

Note: To understand the scale of the change that took place in one night we must first understand the history of the South. The South as many people knew it, in fact, the entire world of Meliusarne, was not a place of superiority. Tomys the Preacher and his teachings were instinctive to many of the South. Tomys' death was that of a martyr, killed by a non-believer and hung up like a signpost. Not only did that thrust the South into believing that it was such an act of treachery Tomys' elder brother, Ricordros went to slaughter all non-believers. Indeed he was with such anger that he couldn't control himself, however like any good man he offered them repentance. So many chose to believe in Drakans and the mythical legends within the great religion, however never after Ricordros were there people suggesting that one must follow it. Almost all those who were avid believers or even common ones chose on their own.