Moonlight Confessions

From the desk of Aramil Runecaster, Cleric and Mage in the service of Falatha, the One True Hand of Valar:

Dearest Reader,

It brings me great joy and happiness that you have taken an interest in this humble scribe’s writings. This story, which I have prepared, is a journey into the sublime and the unconscious imagination. It is an experience that was brought to life from the dreams of this simple writer. The accounts presented in this document are true and without fault in their factual nature. I experienced them firsthand not more than a tenday ago in the hallowed walls of the House of Knowledge, the same walls in which this tale was written. If my creditability is in doubt, I refer you to Lord Gaeleon Silverfyre and Assistant Dean Daisy Powderpop of the Church and University of Qilar and the realm of Alrune. Both can vouch for my creditability and my ability to reveal only the truths in my writings. No falsehoods shall ever flow from my quill. Let Falatha strike my vision from me so that I may no longer see or scribe the written word if I ever break this oath of truthfulness. With such words said, I wish you a pleasant journey into the world of my imagination and recanting of the events that took place not more than ten nights ago. My hope lies in your pleasure of this.

With the blessings of the brother deities Falatha and Valar,

Aramil Runecaster
Scribe and Mage in the Service of Knowledge


The last tendrils of sunlight were beginning to fade as I began my nightly work at the Library of Qilar, the adeptly-named House of Knowledge. As a junior priest and scribe in the Order of Falatha, it was my duty to search over every piece of written work I could find in search of the Origin Text, a sacred document to us Falathaians. I shall not bore you with the details of such philosophy but I will merely state that it is very important for Falatha priests to search out and decipher the meaning of written knowledge. It is our fruit and wine. We are driven by a need to learn and preserve all that we observe in the form of the written word. A library is always home to at least one or two Falathaians.

The night was beginning much like any other night for me. I was planning on studying some ancient scrolls that Darren, a spellfilcher in the service of the Church of Qilar, had recently liberated from the tomb of some forgotten archmage. These scrolls contained scrapes of the ancient magocracy culture and were a window of insight into the lives of these long forgotten people. Even in mundane texts such as this, knowledge of everyday life is sometimes the most important knowledge of all.

The scrolls were fragile, as frail as morning dew upon uncut blades of grass yet just as beautiful. My mind was clearly going to be occupied with the knowledge I was bound to absorb from these masterfully written accounts on the society of mages. The ancient words seemed to flow together into a visual poem of everyday events. I could practically hear the sounds of the blacksmith crafting his goods, the melodic voice of the flower girl peddling her wares, the scratching of quills upon parchment from the scribes recording the insightful words of the preaching cleric of Qilar, and the slow rising chants of the Art being practiced. My mind’s eye was filled with the vision of a levitating city soaring above the lands that would one day be known as the Bleaklands. The city, although nameless, was built on an inverted mountaintop and brought forth into the air as if held by the hand of Qilar herself. The people lived their lives surrounded by mystical splendor and enriching knowledge. What an awe-inspiring place these lands must have been. But through the folly of one archmage, all of it was whipped away and a goddess was destroyed. My heart weeps for the lost of ancient Malir, but I am happy that at least some records of it are left for future generations to dream and think of the wonders of such a place.

When I read or engage in studious activities, I enjoy using the small sitting area that is set-aside in the west wing of the expansive library. It sits nestled in a quaint corner of the library and is crafted entirely out of white marble and darkwood. Finely crafted elven chairs and couches litter the room, providing comfort and relaxation to the visitors and scribes of the library. The room is encompassed by bay windows that overlook the edge of the University of Qilar and the city of Abi’Tur beyond. A full glimpse of the heavens and Saphyr herself can be seen from this sitting area, providing what some would call a romantic aspect to this otherwise mundane house of knowledge and learning.

I placed the ancient scrolls carefully down on the edge of my favorite couch and settled in for a long read. These writings were simply too fantastic to put aside. Deciphering old, forgotten languages is no easy task but it is well worth the effort to extract the knowledge hidden beneath the runes of that dead language. My thoughts were focused purely upon the hidden meaning of the runes and my surroundings seemed to melt away into obscurity. Some might say I lose touch with reality when I study such engrossing material. That was quite the case that evening. I was taken far away from my simple life as a scribe and was placed into the magically enriched world of the Malir. My journey was a short-lived one though as another was about to begin…

A soft touch upon my shoulder awoke me from my thoughts and returned me to the realms of reality and the mundane. I was startled and the scroll I was reading fell from my lap and landed upon the hardwood floor. I jumped from the couch and quickly reclaimed it, lest some damage befall it. The scroll was after all thousands of years old and very fragile! To have some disaster befall it simply because of my own lack of perception of my surroundings would indeed lead to some form of disciplinary action against my otherwise flawless record! It was at this time that my eyes adjusted to the silvery light that now filled the room, streaming down from the heavens above. Saphyr’s silvery rays played upon the books and furniture of the sitting room, illuminating everything in an aura of silver and white. Everything…including a lithe form of a cloaked woman who now sat perched where I had been just a moment ago.

Her royal blue cloak was pulled low around her face, hiding it from the silvery radiance that now illuminated the rest of her full, supple body. Her smooth alabaster legs were dangling from the edge of the couch, clad only in a pair of thin dancing slippers. Her moon kissed skin was adorned with silver moonstone jewelry and a mithril symbol of Saphyr rested between her moon-kissed bosoms. She stretched a bit and I could see that her form was barely covered save for a thin shift that was quite translucent in the moonlight. Needless to say, it left little to the imagination. I remained in a sitting position upon the hardwood floor, the ancient Malir scroll clutched to my chest protectively. My eyes glanced over her supple and flawless body, drinking in the details as if they were some form of long lost knowledge or the Origin Text itself. I quickly recovered my composure and stood abruptly, almost losing my balance in the process. My ink stained hands quickly moved to smooth my librarian robes and I adjusted my cap so that it no longer hung dangling from one pointed ear. I cleared my throat as I had not spoken in at least a few hours and turned my full attention to the mysterious woman who thought she could get away with disturbing my studies without proper intent!

“Miss! Please state your business and the reason you have intruded upon this house of knowledge when you know very well that it is closed to the general public at this time!” I said clearly with as much authority as I could muster.

Melodic laughter flowed from unseen lips as the cloaked woman stepped from the lounging couch and onto the hardwood floor. She was on even height with me and I came to the conclusion that she was definitely not elven, unlike myself. Elven women tend to be smaller than most and this woman was rather tall. I myself stand two hand spans above the five-foot mark and am considered quite tall for my kind. I stood awaiting an answer as she suddenly approached me, hands outstretched. I felt something come over me at that moment, what I cannot begin to describe accurately. I felt as though I was held helpless yet falling at the same time. This wraith-like beauty that was now advancing upon me held me helpless before her. I do not know whether it was some sort of spell or merely that her cowl had fallen from her face and I finally received a look at the beauty before me. Ebony tresses flowed unerringly down pale shoulders and reached down to the middle of her back. Pale sky blue eyes, filled with emotion and passion, glazed into my own storm gray eyes and stirred something within my soul that I had never experienced. Lust? Compassion for the flesh? Love at first sight? I could not label such an emotion nor can I ever.

Her cheeks were dimpled as she smiled invitingly and stepped closer to me, her small hands touching my face gently. Her tiny digits plucked the scholar’s cap from my head and tossed it daintily onto a nearby chair. Her eyes traveled down my robed form and her hands soon followed. Her fingers expertly undid the clasp of my cloak and a swirl of black and green cloth signaled its removal. The buttons upon my outer robe were halfway undone before I regained my usual sense of clear thought and grasped her small hands within my own as a way of preventing her from continuing with this very unusual situation.

“Uhm…err…Miss..? What is it you think you are doing?” I stammered as I locked my gaze with hers. I saw only laughter and passion in her deep orbs and before I knew what was happening her supple lips were upon my own.

Time seemed to slow down for me and the world faded away, much like it had before. Ancient Malir was not my destination though and I was going to a place in which no book or scroll can accurately portray or describe.

“My name is Odette and I am a servant of Saphyr, she who is surrounded by mysteries and dreams. She who offers fulfillment of unspoken desires and hidden dreams. I am her incarnate and the body in which she shall use to bring your hidden desires to life and give your dreams form. Love me as you would your dreams, treasure me as you would your desires, cherish me as you would your heart. Close your eyes and experience what it means to give your dreams and desires flesh…”

The silvery moonlight danced upon our intertwined forms as the rhythmic movement of our love making reverberated from our hearts. Compassion sprang forth from our souls as we shared kisses upon crimson tiers under the light of Saphyr, she who blessed such a union of the mysterious and mundane. The sounds of our joined breathing became the song of our conjoined spirits, giving wings to bond desires that now sought to escape into the air. A dream within a dream, we lay together not speaking a word or even daring to open our eyes for fear of losing ourselves to the mundane once again. I never wanted to leave this world within a dream for it was the only time I have ever experienced such compassion from another. The only place where I could become the master of my own desires and destiny. The only world I could ever find the one named Odette. Logic, something I had long since valued, faded away and was replaced by emotion. My fantasies were the only thing that mattered to Odette, the only thing of value in a world that deemed dreams to be the utmost form of beauty. I lost myself in her eyes and to that dream within a dream. I lost myself to Saphyr that night, who came to me in the form of a beautiful woman named Odette. I soon drifted further in the realm of dreams, thinking of how perfect this world was and how I never wished to leave. How perfect that ending would have been…

The morning sun soon broke through the hazy windows of the House of Knowledge, bringing forth warmth and chasing the darkness out of every corner. I awoke slowly, my naked form lying atop a pile of my own robes. Perspiration covered my body and my hair was matted to the left side of my face. I smoothed my hair away from my face and looked about in a daze. I was back in the Library of Qilar, albeit without my clothes on and alone. The mysterious woman of Saphyr was gone, no clear sign of her existence or passing. I was alone once again, left with the memories of dreams given true form and desires unbridled. A loud banging from down the hall signified the beginning of yet another day as Assistant Dean Powderpop pounded on the main doors, demanding to be let in. Sighing contently yet with a hint of disappointment hidden in my heart, I hastily dressed in rumpled robes and paused for only a moment to reclaim my discarded cap and place the Malir scrolls I was reading back upon their proper scroll shelf. I hurried to the end of the hallway and opened the doors, squinting at the sudden appearance of the sunlight that shone directly in from the east. The small gnomish woman, adorned in the robes of a professor and carrying a timid flat smile upon her plain features, regarded me with an inquisitive stare in her brown eyes.

“Mr. Runecaster, are you ill?” she asked quietly, ushering herself into the library.

“Uhm, no Professor. I was, uhm, merely organizing the scrolls in the backroom and it was quite physically taxing…” I stuttered and fell into step behind the hurrying gnome.

“Well…your shift is over so please feel free to wash up and do whatever it is you need to do.” she said and I quickly nodded my thanks and headed to the small room near the west wing I called home.

Thoughts of Odette swam in my mind and I wondered if I would ever see her again. “Who knows?” I thought. Was she perhaps just a figment of my own imagination or had Saphyr truly graced me with a dream given flesh? I wondered if I’d ever know. Classes were about to begin and I had much to accomplish today. A visiting Luskan mage was giving a lecture on magic theology that I did not want to miss…I could only hope my mind did not wander too far, back to the night before and the woman I had shared so much with…

~~

My dearest reader, I hope that this story has given you some interest in the workings of the unknown and particularly dreams themselves. I truly wonder if I was indeed visited by a servant of Saphyr and if she will ever visit me again. I am uncertain as to who Odette really is or what she is. After speaking with the local priest of Saphyr, Balthasar Bloodstone, I have come to believe that I may have experienced merely a dream that was given power by Saphyr. I truly believe that the Moon Maiden made herself manifest to me that evening for reasons that are beyond my comprehension. I do not question it, though, for it was an experience I shall always treasure and value. I can only hope that you, dear reader, have gained some small amount of insight and pleasure from reading my account of this enigmatic experience. Perhaps Odette or someone like her will visit your dreams and make them real. I can only hope that it does happen to you. Trust me, it is something you will never forget.

With much thanks and the blessings of Falatha,

Aramil Runecaster
A scribe who has felt the touch of dreams come true

~~

Please check out the other stories that feature Aramil Runecaster and his secret beloved, Olivia!

The Last Writings of Aramil Runecaster  (13+) The final writings of Aramil Runecaster and the judgment upon his soul... #815468 by Chris & Christina McCoy

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