The Nightmare

Sustis Ahl Akim, Grand Sultan of the Seven Valleys, woke from a nightmare. Strange since he never slept. At least, not since he died. But there it was just the same. His mind swimming with fog of half remembered images of places long gone... of things lost... of things long dead. He forced himself upright. He had been working on some particular problem and had developed a headache. Out of habit he laid down. While being undead generally meant few common ailments it also meant few common cures. His aides claimed the headaches were figments of his imagination and he should banish such notions. But what did they know of living? Demons and Shades had no memory of life. Not like he did. No one had his memory.

And then it struck him. The entirety of the dream flooded back all at once for it wasn't a dream at all. It was a memory. She sat with him on a cool summer night so many years ago. Her hair was a tangle of radiant copper curls. Her eyes sparkled and, as usual, her casual style disarmed him. For all his wealth, power and station this common girl had bewitched him. For indeed she was a witch and that made her even more enticing. She smiled and his heart had leapt. He was safe he thought. Then the smile faded slowly. The woman he had loved slowly disappeared and before his eyes she changed.

"I'm leaving you." She said.

The thought was so completely shattering he sat unable to speak.

"I'm sorry. Goodbye, love." And she walked away.

He watched her walk around the magnificent fountains of the courtyard. Watched her silloutte in the archway. Then watched nothing at all. The water flowed endlessly. His heart broke. It ached down to the depths of his soul. She was gone. Though they would meet again occassionally under flags of truce, he never saw her again.

Alone now in his study he looked around the darkened room. His eyes saw all in the blackness. What a change being undead had made. He tried to summon up the feelings for her and could not. He had silenced them all years ago. That very night he had performed the ritual that could not be performed. When he plunged the knife in to his very heart the pain was nothing compared to the knife she had wielded. The magic surged through him and all pain stopped... all pain. She was nothing more than a memory now. An image. A voice. A shadow.

He drew the cover off his reflecting pool and lightly stirred the water. In an instant it responded to his will and revealed what he desired. She was at one of her kettles. Her copper curls had not diminished after nearly 20 years. He watched the movement of her hands. The way she rested them on her hip while she focused on a book near the kettle. Her nose squinching to keep her reading glasses in position. She was beautiful. The same as she ever was. He imagined that if he spoke she would smile and turn to him and he would see her again as she was. But all that remained was the shadow and he did not speak and she did not turn... and any smile she may have shown would not be for him.

He felt nothing. But still he watched all night until she rested her curls on her modest bed. And then he still watched some more until the pool flickered out spent until he could recharge it. Sustis Ahl Akim, Grand Sultan of the Seven Valleys covered his reflecting pool and stepped out in to the night to seek some young copper haired girl to feed his unlife. Maybe that would cure headaches he thought.