Staff of Shigmar: Chapter 12, Part 1

30 May 2026

Greetings to all! T0day, the wife and I celebrate 4o years of marriage! We return with another installment in the second book of our epic fantasy, Staff of Shigmar, rejoining Klaybear and company in Shigmar’s Tomb. They have survived the fire realm miraculously, beginning to take stock of their situation before moving on. . . . (23 March 2015) We remind all readers that this book, Staff of Shigmar, as also the first book, is free for download from Smashwords! Glossary links: Book 2, Book 1

Chapter 12, Part 1

The symbology of dreams is tricky and ever changing; attaching meaning to the symbols and figures problematic. Many try interpreting their dreams, but dreams in my experience are best forgotten on waking. . . .

from Lectures of the Headmasters, ‘Shigmar’ Volume
Lecture by Headmaster Shigmar

A gentle sound of water falling filled Klaybear’s ears, waking him. He inhaled deeply, smelling water, sage, and pomegranates; opening his eyes, he found himself sitting in the shade of a date palm, an empty gourd by his left arm. Looking around, he saw more palm trees and a clear pool with a small waterfall, but the space beyond the trees was indistinct and hazy. As he stood up, he heard the sound of someone crying, but the sound was hollow and echoed strangely, as if the person were inside a tunnel, crying into a blanket. He moved slowly around the stony outcropping, from which the water issued, and saw a figure kneeling, a figure who had long, honey-flecked brown hair he recognized as belonging to his wife. He rushed forward and saw that she was weeping over a larger than normal white rabbit wearing a frilly pink apron. He saw Rokwolf standing behind her, holding his bow with an arrow nocked; he was speaking to Klare, but Klaybear could not hear the words. The feathers on the arrow were smoking flames. Klaybear reached out to touch his wife, but she blurred and vanished in a cloud of mist, and his surroundings swirled and were replaced by a battlefield, covered with smoking debris and twisted bodies. On a rise that was suddenly in front of him, he saw Delgart, standing over the broken body of Marilee, facing a megatri whose red skin smoldered and smoked, flames erupting from the ends of his hair and beard. With one huge hand, the megatri grabbed Delgart and crushed him soundlessly, tossing the remains onto Marilee’s lifeless form; a broken crown rolled to a stop between their heads. The megatri threw back its head and howled in triumph, but the sound was muffled and indistinct.

His surroundings swirled and blurred and were replaced by a seashore, waves rolling in, but the sky was wrong, like the sea was inside a hollow sphere. A body floated in the surf, and he walked over the sand, approaching the body bobbing in the waves; it was clad in gold with a white surcoat. Waves crashed into him, but he did not feel wet; he grabbed a handful of the surcoat and dragged the body onto the beach, turning it over. He gasped, seeing the bloated face of Blakstar. Staggering back, he tripped and fell through the ground, his surroundings swirling past and becoming a hilltop overlooking Shigmar. A battle raged before the gates. He watched helplessly as a huge iron battering ram, wielded by megatrem and krugle, crashed through the gates, destroying them. Hordes of ghelem and purem ran into the city; the creatures wielding the battering ram held it up in triumph, and Klaybear saw the iron head of the ram, bearing his own face and grimacing in pain, with the symbol of Gar flashing red on his iron forehead. He felt his staff pulsing in his hand, and, raising it, he spoke words that sounded like mumbling in his ears. Light flashed and a wave of destruction moved out from his staff in a circle; the once green valley became a desert, the walls toppled, the buildings crumbled, and everyone in the path of the wave, friend and foe alike, turned into dust. He stood on the hilltop, the only spot of green, living vegetation surrounded by an empty desert, and Klare lay before his feet, very pregnant, her eyes open, but unseeing, and dead. He fell to his knees trying to scream, but no sound issued, and he felt as if he were choking. . . .

Klaybear sat up, gasping for breath; he was lying on one of the beds in the room of Shigmar’s tomb with the archway. He looked around and saw Thal, Blakstar, and Tevvy sleeping on the other beds. He swung his legs off his bed and sat up, rubbing his eyes and trying to clear his mind of the images he had dreamed. In spite of the troubled nature of the dreams that had awakened him, he felt well-rested. He searched his memory but could not remember how he had gotten out of the realm of fire and into this bed; he remembered giving the last drop of water they had to the dying wethi; he remembered the wethi dying, but everything that followed was a blank until he dreamed of waking in the desert oasis. The images troubled him; he knew he had seen Klare crying, but over a dead rabbit? He knew that she hated rabbits, as her family had raised them for food, so he could not imagine her crying over a rabbit, which must mean that the rabbit symbolized something else, but what it could be, he could not decide. Then he recalled what they had found when they reached Kalbant, and he wondered if that part of the dream meant that her mother had died. But then her father and brothers were dead, so maybe, by some strange series of connections created in dreams, it meant that she was mourning over her father, or her brothers. What did Rokwolf have to do with it, and why was he standing with his bow ready? Maybe they were in danger. He stretched and stood up, but was prevented from further reflections by the sound of someone yawning. He turned and saw Tevvy sitting up in his bed.

“I just had the most wonderful dream,” Tevvy said as he sat up, seeing Klaybear standing nearby.

“Did you?” Klaybear said.

“I found myself in a beautiful, golden city, floating on the clouds,” Tevvy said, “and all of you were there, with Klare, Marilee, Delgart, and Rokwolf, and all of your masters, with two others, who I did not recognize, one standing next to Blakstar, blonde and beautiful, and one standing next to Thal, her hair was dark, and she was just as tall. We were standing in a courtyard surrounded by shining white pillars, with a fountain at the center. I listened to the music of the water, and the music of many voices; there was another pair there, they must have been the king and queen, but both seemed to me to be more royal and dignified than anyone I have ever seen. I think they were old, but both looked as young as we are, with bright golden hair and kindly faces, and his eyes were blue, like the sky and as deep. They gave me a drink from the fountain, dipping a golden cup; it was the sweetest water I’ve ever tasted.” He paused, his eyes distant. “I turned and saw,” his face flushed, “a friend, who rushed forward and, uh,” he hesitated, “greeted me. I woke up then, but I can still hear the sound of the fountain and the chorus.”

Klaybear smiled, but said nothing. He moved next to Blakstar, gently touching his shoulder. The kortexi’s eyes opened and he sat up, looking around.

“How?” Blakstar asked, puzzled.

“I do not know,” Klaybear replied.

Blakstar’s brow wrinkled. “I remember falling onto the burning stone,” he said, slowly, “and then, I remember feeling arms, strong but gentle arms, lifting me from the stone; their touch was cool, and calming.”

“And then?” Tevvy asked.

“And then,” Blakstar went on, “I felt a touch on my shoulder, and I woke up, here.”

“No dreams?” Tevvy asked.

“None,” the kortexi replied.

“Too bad,” Tevvy said. “I had the most wonderful dream,” and he began to relate again what he had seen.

Klaybear went to and touched Thal’s shoulder, waking him. The maghi sat up slowly, looking around and sighing. His eyes looked slightly puffy.

“Are you all right?” Klaybear asked softly.

Thal nodded once.

“Did you sleep well?” Klaybear asked.

Thal shrugged.

“Did you dream?”

Shrug. Thal turned his attention to Tevvy, who just finished relating his dream.

“She was blonde, you said,” Blakstar said, “the one next to me. Did you see her face?” he asked, sounding eager.

“Yes, but . . . ,” Tevvy began, but the kortexi interrupted.

“What did she look like?” Blakstar asked eagerly.

“Like the queen at the fountain,” Tevvy replied, “fair, beautiful, but her eyes were gray, rather than blue.”

Blakstar looked disappointed by his description. “Can’t you give me more details?”

Tevvy shrugged. “No, wetham all look the same to me.”

Blakstar saw that Thal was up, and turned to him. “He saw a girl next to you, too.”

Thal looked puzzled.

“In his dream,” Blakstar added, looking at the awemi. “Tell him about her.”

Tevvy frowned. “She was tall and thin, like you, with dark hair, and her eyes were deep, deep brown.”

Thal flushed. “You dreamed this?” he asked.

Tevvy nodded.

“Strange,” Thal whispered to himself, his eyes going distant.

Tevvy looked at Klaybear. “So how did we get back here?”

The kailu shrugged. “No idea,” he replied. “Last thing I remember was passing out after the wethi took his last drink. Then I dreamed I was in a desert oasis,” and he started to relate to them what he had seen, but when he mentioned Klare, kneeling on the ground and crying, his voice choked, and the image of Klare crying became Klare pregnant became Klare dead on the hilltop, wave of destruction destroying friend and foe and land and walls and homes and animals and Klare dead howling laughter crashing walls screaming livestock faces flying at him, faces filled with pain and anger, the faces of purem and kailum and farmers and ghelem and wetham and children, all flying at him, all contorted with anger and pain, all rising from the wave of destruction moving outward from the staff clenched in his sweating hands, shouting accusations as each was absorbed by the staff held in his hand. He screamed. . . .

. . . and heard his own voice, echoing in the small chamber. Blakstar, Tevvy, and Thal kneeling on the floor around him, faces concerned.

“What happened?” Tevvy asked. “You mentioned Klare kneeling on the sand, crying, and then you swayed and fell to the floor.”

“Klare?” Klaybear said, blankly, and his eyes lost their focus, his body went limp. . . .

Come back next week, on Tuesday, for another installment of our tale and see how Thal reacts to Klaybear’s apparent fit. For those who wish to read on, get a full ebook copy from Smashwords for free! If you prefer print, purchase your copy from the link provided. Good reading!