“You did well, my Knight.”

I guess I managed to fall asleep at some point after all, because once again, I found myself standing in a field with Metanior. She was just as tall, just as umbral, and just as naked as I remembered. 

“Hello, ma’am,” I said. 

I tried to bow respectfully, but She interrupted me with a gesture. 

“Save the genuflection for the church,” she ordered. “I came here to congratulate you on finding the best path forward.”

“Oh. Um, thank you,” I said, feeling awkward.

I don’t really handle praise too well, and it didn't help that I hadn't the faintest idea what she meant. 

The Goddess frowned down at me. 

“You really don’t remember. That’s supposed to be impossible. No one should be able to forget the things I tell them in dreams.” She said, worried. 

“Sorry, ma’am. Bit of brain damage from an old war wound,” I explained. “My short term memory isn’t the greatest.”

“That would explain why you scribble so much stuff down in your notebook,” the Goddess said. “Honestly, I can hardly tell which questions are for me and which ones are you just trying to keep your day in order.”

“Again, sorry. I really do need the thing, and I’m honestly a little worried that I won’t be able to find a replacement. I’ve yet to find anything like disposable paper products in this world,” I said. 

“You’ll find some in the cities,” She promised. “In the meantime, you’ll find a fresh one in your pack tomorrow. I’ve added it to your permanent inventory.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Now, what’s this about finding the best path forward?”

“Well, I did tell you to give Hani what she wanted. I didn’t just mean cunnilingus, you know,” She said. 

As it turns out, it’s entirely possible to blush with your whole body. I did my best to keep the conversation going, lest I actually die of embarrassment. 

“OH! I remember now,” I said. “So, taking her home for her daughter’s birthday is what she wanted from the beginning?”

“More than anything, but the Hadrash people place duty above all else. They’re so fanatical about it, some scholars seriously question whether they’re human, or a self perpetuating race of automata.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Metanior cut me off.

“I never said they were bright scholars. You know that’s not true, and I know that’s not true, but very few outsiders ever earn the love of a Hadrash warrior,” She continued. “Had you been one whit less thoughtful with Hani in the first day or so, you would have had her loyalty, and perhaps her body, but never her heart. Hadrash warriors have no compunctions about serving their masters sexually, should they find them desirable. The link created by physical intimacy is immensely useful for bodyguards, and Hadrash are considered exotic beauties by human standards. It’s an arrangement that both parties often find mutually beneficial.”

“Wait,” I said, frowning. “Are all Hadrash warriors women?” 

“Oh, yes. One of the progenitors of their people was a faery.”

I dredged my memory for pertinent facts about the faery race. Thank god I had a better memory for trivia than appointments. Honestly I had no idea how that worked, but it seemed like the part of my brain responsible for holding onto useless information worked overtime to compensate for the part that couldn’t remember my own birthday.

“Faery” was a loose term used to describe the inhabitants of the Huetah continent. They were beings of spirit and magic, only loosely connected to the physical world. Most of the rest of the world regarded them as harmless tricksters, often mischievous, but rarely malevolent. Some races of faery could create a physical body for themselves, and would on occasion seek out mates among the other races. 

Scions born from such unions were gifted with magical abilities that varied wildly based on the preferences of the faery in question and the environment they were born into. Those traits would breed true in their descendents for generation after generation, so long as they inhabited the lands that their progenitor was born into, but would fade away in a couple of generations if they lost their connection to the land. Those who left their lands for one reason or another would often return to give birth, in order to ensure their faery ancestor’s blessing was passed onto the child. 

“So, thanks to their faery blood, the Hadrash invert the normal gender roles,” I guessed. 

“A good guess, but not quite. Hadrash males are rare, comprising about one birth in ten, and they’re quite delicate and frail. Most never survive to adulthood. The desert is too harsh, and if times get tough, male children are euthanized as a matter of course. That may seem cruel, but for the Hadrash, it’s a kindness. The Hadrash see male children as treasures, but they’re hopelessly dependent on their caretakers. In a pinch, they can turn a group of girls as young as 5 out into the wild desert and expect them to look after themselves, but a boy child would broil in the sun by the end of the first day. So, the Hadrash often send their young warriors, usually between the ages of 18 and 24, out in the world to serve, and to get pregnant. Those not cut out to be warriors mate with members of other desert tribes, or whatever passing merchants they can ensnare.”

“That’s a hell of a way to go through life,” I said. 

“On that, we agree. It’s a hard life, but it suits them. It helps that few men of any race are prepared to turn down a Hadrashi woman in her prime when she’s horny and raring to go. I daresay that a good many of their number are the bastard daughters of high nobility, even royalty.”

“Why do I get the feeling that some bullshit mystic prophecy about the daughter of a king is going to make my life difficult at some point?” I asked. 

“Because you can tell your boot from a hole in the ground,” Metanior said with a tight-lipped smile. “Hani is, in fact, the daughter of a king, and there are several prophecies that could apply to her. Fortunately, she herself is blissfully unaware of her paternity, and I would appreciate it if you kept your mouth shut. I’ll handle the prophecies on my end.”

“Consider it forgotten,” I said. 

“With anyone else, I’d be worried,” the Goddess said wryly. “I should like to meet the warrior who wounded you so grievously to thank him. Having a Knight who can actually forget what he’s supposed to forget is a novel experience.”

I gave a harsh bark of laughter. 

“You’re about 18 years late to that party, ma’am. We caught the bastard and shot him when he tried to run,” I said. 

“Far be it from me to interfere with well earned vengeance,” the Goddess said. “Do you have any questions about the coming journey?”

I shook my head. 

“Nothing off the top of my head. I figure Hani knows what she’s doing, so I plan on relying on her as much as I can. Are there any questions I should be asking?”

That earned me another smile from the Goddess, this one approving. 

“Now that is a very wise question indeed. For the record, I can think of nothing pertinent, either. I don’t foresee any supernatural forces interfering with the trip, though I would recommend watching for bandits in the mountain passes. They’re positively infested these days,” she said. 

“I’ll make a note,” I promised. 

I reached for my notebook, only to remember that I was naked. And in a dream. 

“I’ll write it down for you,” the Goddess said, and the world faded to black.