They had finished dining in silence. Or rather the stranger had. Artemis had eaten nothing. She had wished not to and kept to herself in silence. Her curiosity had not quite beaten her desire to forsake this place she did not comprehend, but it did keep at least her in this world with its strange natures. She had discovered some strange laws of this world and found it a difficult place to understand. It was hard to comprehend what happened here and how it worked, but Artie had worked out several of the rules herself.

It was the thought of the disapproving silence that suddenly brought a rush of music from a flute and a harp into the great vaulted chamber with its huge polished redstone columns. Startled, Artemis gazed towards the gentleman that sat on the other side of the white-lacquered table inlaid with gilded carvings on the sides of it. He laughed at the inquiring look from Artemis and then stopped.

“You’ve discovered a rule, I see,” the stranger said softly. He sounded amused. Partially eager, Artemis nodded in hope to discover more. “Here, you must control your thoughts. Things can be changed just from a thought. A pure wondering thought can change anything from your food to your looks to your surrounding to what you hold or have with you. Learn to control your thoughts and then you can learn other things of this world. The wardrobe and what was inside it is an example of controlling your thoughts. You wished for something similar to what you wear at the moment and found several choices of what you wished. If you had thought of something more detailed or something you wore in the real world, you might have discovered only one choice and only one for you wanted one specific dress. You could have done it without the wardrobe too. The wardrobe is only there to help you. That wardrobe allows you to concentrate on your thoughts more easily then when doing it straight from the mind. If you haven’t tried already, try thinking of a dress you’ve worn before at the moment try. Now picture yourself in it. There.”

Staring down at herself, Artemis gasped. Her dress was the very same green dress she wore the day before. She thought of a different outfit. After a quick moment, she discovered herself dressed in the very gown worn at the masquerade. She understood what he meant. With a brief picture of herself wearing a green dress, Artemis’ dress altered swiftly back to what she wore before.

The stranger nodded in delight. “You master quickly. That is a good sign. Let us hope you will not allow your thoughts to stray. Well, on to another rule you must learn. Remember this well. If you get hurt here you will find yourself with the same wound when you awake in your world.”

Without thought, Artemis promptly asked, “Is it possible to die here?”

“It is very possible. If you die here, you die in your world too,” the man nodded again, his bangs swaying across his face. A slight horror-stricken face struck Artie. Abruptly Artie swept it away, placing a calm one with no emotion that could be read from it. The man then continued with a thin, strong voice, “There is not much of a chance of that though and I must make sure you do not do that here. And yes, another thing! You must know that you must not stay here for a long duration, away from your body. You may eventually die doing so, so do not risk it, even if time here runs differently from your world. If you do, you may end up here in Del’Aran’rhiod for the rest of time until you die of some accident or murder here.”

“Del’Aran’rhiod?” questioned Artemis. “Is this what you call this place?”

“Yes, m’dear. I believe in our language it is called—”

Artemis cut him off before he could continue. She knew the answer. It was of the Old Speech. The language that made magic or rather allowed the power to enter through. “The Other World.”

“Fascinating,” exclaimed gentleman, “You’ve studied the Old Speech. Fascinating! I thought it was lost to the human race forever.”

Artemis pursed her lips for a moment but said nothing. Not many knew of magic anymore and even less had the ability to make it happen. It was an old talent that was coming to a close like the many other enchanting abilities that existed or once existed. Even fewer knew that the words spoken were of the language named the Old Speech, Alas Talad. Rekindling her thoughts, Artemis proposed to herself to ask some personal questions of this odd gentleman. So far she had not even learned his name.

“It’s Kadere. Kadere Natiel.”

The lady gave another startling look at the man. Why? I did not speak and yet he knows my every thought. He isn’t even able to talk back and yet…

“That, milady has something to do with me and the people of this place. It will be something you will learn soon enough, Artemis.” The man beamed at himself with acknowledgement to her astonishment.

“Sir, may I ask what you mean be soon enough? Am I to return here?” Artemis glanced up. She had never thought of returning to Del’Aran’rhiod.

“You must, of course,” stated Kadere as if it were a palpable fact. “You are one of the Dreamers Who Come with the Night. The Dreamers we have waited for. You must understand, Artemis that few can reach here. Some people stroke the surface of this world in their dreams but few are able to fully allow their essence to enter and even fewer can allow their essence and physical form for that is a forbidden, a Dark Art, and something that must not be tampered with. It is dangerous and only the Shadowed One and his followers do.”

“Shadowed One?” inquired Artie with her soft, curious voice. She wished to continue her long line of questions. The man with his deep emerald eyes, however, stopped her and the music with a raise of his left hand.

“The one who has many names, the creature who walks in the dark with his evil force, that is the man I talk of,” whispered Kadere ominously.

The dream faded away with a breeze that came with Kadere’s last words, settling deep in her mind. Artemis’ eyes fluttered open to awake into dreary black-darkness. She felt awkwardly uncomfortable. Her head rang with a dreadful headache and her lips were parched, hands and legs bound by rope that sliced through her wrist. She frowned at her physical self and desperately wished she was able to fall back to sleep. With plans of every kind weaving through her mind to escape her awful surrounding, Artie at long last drifted back into deep sleep and this time into her own unconscious dreamland. Her breath slowed, eyes closed, and body relaxed.

She dreamed.