After a long night of tossing and turning, I was startled awake by some nagging feeling. I jutted up, quickly rising through the haze, and I found myself in a place that was not my own. A thick smoke hung in the air. It swirled about, as if it had a mind of its own, rising and falling in a turbulence of its own design. It was many things, and yet it also seemed to be nothing. When I grasped at it, its appearance fooled me. Its milky white thickness was false, in my hands it felt wispy and ethereal, as if it wasn’t there at all. It had a special scent about it, it was woody and floral, sweet, and spicy, even crisp and clean to an extent. As I inhaled I felt it permeate every follicle and every fiber of my being. My mind became cloudy, I grew dizzy and tired. My vision began to wane, and the room swayed like the ocean. I closed my eyes, waiting for the motion to cease and when my mind finally calmed I opened my eyes again to find that I was somewhere different but all the same.

               It reminded me of the huts used by the caravans, the same ones imported from the tribal peoples of the steppes. It was round and wide, accommodating for many people, and every available inch was covered with carpets, silks, furs, quilts, and any other textile you could imagine. In that tapestry I saw stunning prismatic images woven right into the fabric, threads of bright purple, silver, and gold, playing against the background they were set in, shining in the invisible light that illuminated the interior. Contrasting these textiles were furs of sable, tawny, black, white, even spotted. Some were of beasts I had never seen or heard of, and others were of beasts so common I would’ve thought them to be from my own flock.

I reached out to feel one of these furs and as I did so a terrible buzzing noise clouded my mind, and my ears began to ring. I dropped to my knees, my breath taken aback, hands clasped firmly to the side of my head. The sound was so cloying that I could barely contain myself. But almost as swiftly as it began did it dissipate and I opened my eyes. Below me was that cloudy haze and as I lifted my head up I found that my environment has changed again.

This time I was in a mansion, its walls of elaborate wood, wrought iron and plaster. Baubles and small knick-knacks adorned the walls, while the furniture was both whimsical and garish. Where once there was sable, tawny, and black there was now indigo, lilac, and mauve. Gold became silver and silver became gold, while brocade was clearly the flavor in this house. But all of that as nebulous to me. Everything was now melding together, the lines becoming blurred, and I heard a voice call out to me, “Here… here…” It was haunting and yet strangely inviting, I couldn’t help but follow it.

Down a hallway I walked, long and narrow, its claustrophobic grip almost distracting me from following the voice. Fortunately, as I reached the end of the hall I found it open up into a larger space, although I was still inhibited by one obstacle. It was a series of curtains, thin, gauze like but clearly made of fine silk, the kind produced only by spinners aged like wine. Through its thin threads I could see the room ahead of me was almost bare. But at its center there appeared to be what resembled a bed, large and round. On its cushions I could see bodies moving, as if a couple were making love, but upon narrowing my vision the image grew darker and more complex. It appeared now as a writhing mass of limbs and flesh, various body parts shuffling about, rubbing against and about what looked like a beast with several backs. I could not make out the individuals, if individuals there were in the first place, and everything seemed so wicked. I could hear moans, and whispers, and in that writhing mass, a single hand became clear, feminine, and lithe and it seemed to beckon me forth invitingly. My hands trembled and my knees shook, but still, something possessed me to reach my hand forward and tear the screen aside, stepping forward towards the debauchery before me.

But to my surprise, there were no bodies. No beast with ten backs, no orgy of sin, not even the sight of lovers deep in the throes of passion. I hesitated, trying to recall if I had blinked or closed my eyes again. For in front of me, reclined and without care, was a singularly striking young man of immense beauty.

He greeted me with a smile and beckoned me forward, “Come my friend. Come. I have been expecting you.” And he took a lit pipe from a small table bedside and toked upon it with the voracity of a man three times his age. As he blew a stream of smoke from his nostrils he patted the bed and called for me again. “Sit stranger, I have been expecting you, and I would rather not be alone any longer.” My eyes narrowed and I shifted back. If his intention was for me to sit next to him then he was sorely mistaken, I was not a practitioner of “boy love” and my loyalty to my wife would not be challenged otherwise. Instead, I shook my head and pointed down to where my feet were planted.

“Here seems appropriate enough for me thank you. Besides, I do not know you. In fact, if I may be so bold as to ask… whose house am I in?” At this he chuckled and took another drag on his pipe.

“Why, you are in my house of course.” And he placed a hand to his breast, “Do I not look the type to own a place as opulent as this?” At that remark I paused to wonder, and I deigned to look him over more intensely. His dress was remarkably clean, his kaftan was of the highest silks, only found in the markets of Din-Ili. His trousers and his shirt matched; his outfit coordinated well enough to rival that of any prince. It was as if the sea itself had become draped over his thin shoulders, and in that sea were the requisite animals. Thin interwoven embroidery of silver thread made the shapes of sea creatures. Fish, dolphin, sharks, mermaids, all were present on his body. And the longer I stared, the more they moved. The more they shifted and even swam before my very eyes. I became entranced, and I would have stayed so had he not struck his pipe against a brass dish.

I looked up as he was packing another bowl, his boyish face was clean, not marked by pock or pimple, and he was freshly shaven. Not a single hair grew upon his face. He reminded me of a painting I had seen long ago, some sort of dedication to the lover of the king. As he lit his pipe and toked, I realized that all the smoke I had been wading through emanated from his personage. As he exhaled a thick stream filled the room and it seemed to come up to my knees. His eyes shifted over, and he smiled surreptitiously. His tongue poked out from between his lips as he licked the tip of the pipe, and he began to speak again.  

“Are you sure you would not accept my invitation?”

As his honeyed words dripped into my ear, I felt an immediate sense of unease. Unease for, even though I understood those words to have come from him, it did not sound like him. It was a voice discordant in both tone and pitch. Both manly and feminine. It was seductive, blunt, enticing and disparaging all at once. It startled me so that I had to take a step back. And I realized that something was indeed wrong about this place.

“Where… am I? Truly?

And while I asked that question to myself, I could hear its voice in my head. “Why, you are in my parlor of course. Do not be afraid.” And the room began to spin again. I tried to take another step back and it called to me, “Do not be alarmed. Close your eyes, and do not open them until I say so, and all your fears will be gone.”

For the life of me, I could not accede to this demand and despite the pain in my head I stood resolute, eyes opened as I looked in horror at the being before me.

Before my very eyes it began to change. At first I could not make out its appearance, as the miasmatic cloud of smoke that now poured from the creature tried to obfuscate my view. But as I focused, I could make out that its camouflage was weak, and falling thin. It was an amalgam of things. It shifted between looking like the beasts of the sea, the land, and the air. I saw lions, and bears, the beaks of birds and an insect’s claw. I saw it truly writhe and wiggle its way into and out of forms, like a butterfly shedding out of its cocoon or a crab its shell. As it shifted my sight grew dim, and I could not keep my eyes open any longer. They shut upon themselves, and I became unable to open my eyes. Taking its chance to act, I heard the bed shake and the creature move towards me. I leapt back and fell to the floor, holding one arm out in protection and the other close to my chest in prayer.

“Please, gods above and below. Those who save and those who damn. Protect me from this demon!!”

And at once my prayers seemed to be answered. My head no longer buzzed terribly, and my nose was no longer filled with that cloying smoke. My arms and legs felt strong again and my mind felt sharp. I no longer heard the creature and only silence echoed in my ears.

But as the seconds grew I felt a new pair of eyes on me, and sultry voice slithered into my ears. “You may open your eyes child; I will not hurt you. Your prayers have been answered.”

Apprehensively I opened my eyes, and I looked only at the floor. But that same strength that caused me to look away now caused me to look up and the terrifying beast that had once occupied that bead now took on an even more frightful form.

On that bed now lay a woman, naked save for a kaftan of crimson and gold. In its embroidery were flowers, bees, and birds in flight. They were arranged in such a way to draw the eyes to the key points on her body. Her exposed hips and breasts, thighs, and neck. Every spot of skin on her front was on display, every hair, and every blemish. She was both lithe and voluptuous, her skin blushed milky white. As my eyes followed up her shoulders and on her face she appeared all the more beautiful. Her lips called to me, her nose crinkled playfully, and her eyes seduced me with a light unknown by any man ever before. I found myself taking a step forward, and she reached her hands forward in an inviting way. She smiled slyly and licked her lips. “Come to me my sweet, come partake in a dream so sweet.”

My clothes fell from my body, and my loins burned. I took another step forward and I thought upon my family. My wife, my children, my hearth and home… it all became worthless to me. Even my loyalty and my pride were paid to the jewel before me.

It was an unfortunate feeling when I realized I had begun to sweat profusely. My body began to shake, and my limbs grew heavy. My vision waned and she grew fuzzy. I saw her smile turn to frown and she curled into herself. I reached my hands out towards her but where she was once in front of me she was now a million miles away. A pit grew in my stomach, and everything became dark.

As my eyes closed I could hear her call out, “You are now leaving my domain, mortal. Back to where you are from, the waking world under the sun.”

My eyes opened and hanging over my head was my wife. She had held me in her lap, and she was patting my head dry. I could feel my linens under me, the thick cotton soaked through with what I had hoped was only sweat. She was singing sweetly, my tender wife, and once she realized I was truly awake she smiled.

“My love,” She said, “I feared greatly for you. It must’ve been a dream most foul. I had almost summoned a diviner, for a feared you caught in the grips of a great curse.” I gripped at my tunic and took a deep breath. I held my hand up and stroked her face. She was indeed pretty, my lovely young wife, and I lifted myself out of her lap. As I sat up she pulled my tunic from over my head and began to wash my back. She was speaking to me, but I heard none of it. Instead, my eyes were fixed to the family altar in the corner of the room. In it I thought I knew all the gods, their names and their faces, but now I realized my error. They were beyond my imagination. Their power, immense and terrifying. I almost lost myself in thought when my wife wrapped her arms around my chest and pressed her face against my back.

“I prayed to the gods every day for your love to find me. You should thank them, as I do.”

And at this I closed my eyes and whispered, “Yes my love… blessed are the gods indeed.”