Dream: Retriever

March 27th, 2022

The series will end. The series will end. The series will end. A final three movies to add what was thought of as a quadrilogy. I see the stone tablets etched with engravings of heroics fly in through fog. Now we come to the 5th movie. We start at the vampire’s castle. He has ordered the Retriever to his room. The ghoulish, disfigured ogre-like people with one side of their body bloated and bulky while the other side is scrawny and thin. Skin gray and lifeless, they garb a man in his 40s decked out in studded leather armor. His dark brown hair is tinted orange or red? His eyes are like steel, serious and unwavering. He shrugs off the massive arm of the ghoulish being and marches past the gargoyle guards that stand by the door to the vampire’s bedroom.

He doesn’t knock on the wooden door, the gargoyles cringe backwards, wondering if they are calculating if they have enough time to run away before their lord vampire’s wrath destroys them for failing to stop the human from intruding in without warning. The human lifts his eyes up from the ground to see the vampire, old, wrinkled, and frail, lying in his coffin-shaped bed. The human looks down in shame. He should have been more respectful and knocked. The vampire speaks, his voice still deep and powerful despite his condition. “Retriever, you should do well to honor me.” The vampire says, “For I have called you here that I may honor you.” The guilt rises even more abundantly in the human, and he kneels before the vampire. “My sincerest apologies, my lord.” The man says, head bowed.

“Retriever, you have proved yourself time and time again, destroying my enemies and retrieving powerful artifacts at my command.” The vampire says, “And I have rewarded you for your obedience. I’ve given you my daughter in marriage. I’ve granted you boons of deathly power.” The vampire sighs deeply, a sigh which slowly becomes a pained groan. “My long unlife has taken a heavy toll on me. I will soon become unfit to lead.” The vampire says to the human’s astonishment, “You will be the new lord vampire. But don’t get too eager, Retriever. I have many years before I become wholly decrepit.” The human isn’t sure how to take this news. On the one hand, it is a great blessing to become the lord vampire, in charge of an entire nation. But at the same time, it’s a great burden and responsibility.

“Before I can place upon you the mantle of undeath, you must cultivate the great powers you already have within yourself.” The lord vampire says, “I bequeath unto you an heirloom that has been passed down in my family for generations. Since I have no sons, I give it to you.” The lord vampire sits up in his bed stretches his hands out in front of him, his palms facing each other, his right hand is above the left. With a swift motion, he lowers his right hand and raises his left. A hatchet shimmers into existence between his hands, and he grasps the handle with his right hand below the left hand which is beside the head of the hatchet.

“This is my blessing, Retriever. You must feed it with the blood of your enemies.” The vampire lord says, “It will teach you to unlock your own powers.”  The human rises to his feet and takes the black hatchet, dark with coal. “As you command, I will prepare for greatness.” The human says. He takes his leave with his new weapon in his hand. With his left hand against the cold metal head, and his right hand holding the handle, he rises is right and above the left and lowers his left hand at the same time, causing the weapon to disappear. The human seeks powerful foes worthy to feed upon.

The 6th tablet awakens, engraved with battle. I am running through the mountainous tundra chased by beasts of gray thick-skinned like a rhinoceros or elephant, bowling ball-sized warts of reflective black metal spike erupting like warts from the faces of these thunderous chargers. I see a small cave opening on the ground in front of me. I might be able to squeeze through. I leap forward, head first, but I get stuck. It’s too tight of an opening. I feel a painful force and I hear a crash behind me as the cave goes dark and I am forced forwards through the opening. The hole behind me is blocked by a ravaging beast that weighs several tons. The beast throws a tantrum, slamming against the stony mountain face over and over again before it gives up and slowly lumbers away.

With the beast no longer blocking the opening, the sunlight comes in behind me to illuminate the cave. It’s not very big, perhaps the size of a single room in a house. There is a corner where I can’t see past and it appears to continue as a tunnel. But with no additional light sources, I know I won’t be able to see anything even if I investigate the tunnel that is around the corner. Despite knowing this, I slowly walk forward to investigate anyway. I turn the corner and it is certainly dark, but I think I can barely make out the bulbous form of some spherical shape. It’s slightly vibrating, and a faint hum in the air around it sparks my curiosity. I reach out with my hand and press the palm of my hand against the smooth metallic shape. It begins to vibrate more aggressively, and the surface quickly grows hot. I reactively pull my hand back in pain as the bulbous sphere begins to glow yellowish-orange like molten metal. Bubbles of darker orange liquid rise and fall in the sphere like a lava lamp. And the sphere itself begins to rise into the air.

Hovering in the tunnel, and illuminating the cave, the metallic sphere of molten metal slowly comes closer to me. I panic. I do the only thing I know how to do: fight. Right hand over left, then switch the hand. A hatchet shimmers into my hand. I strike the bulbous orb and some of the hot liquid spills out… and lands on me. I feel it burning through my skin, down into my bones and muscles, but I focus and can’t even feel the pain anymore. I attack even more aggressively. But as I am hurting the strange object, I am receiving more harm than I am dealing. I can tell that I can’t continue this or I will die. So I step back. Even as I back away, the object floats towards me, as though linked to me in some way. I am frightened. What can I do against something like this? I don’t understand what it is or why it’s moving towards me!

I focus, and am struck by sudden insight. I grimace in some awkward attempt at a confident smile. I pull my right arm backwards over my shoulder then swing it forward, releasing the heirloom hatchet from my grip. It spins towards the orb and sinks through it, falling out beneath it with more of than glowing hot liquid spilling out after it. I summon the hatchet to my hand again, and throw it a second time. The bulbous sphere is looking more and more deflated, but it continues to approach me. I summon and throw, summon and throw. I’m so weak and injured that I fear I won’t survive if anymore of that molten metal spills on me again.

I stop backpedaling as I bump into the stone wall behind me. I look to my right and see the opening to the cave. Maybe I don’t have to fight this thing. I rush towards the opening and squeeze. But it is quite tight. I get stuck. I won’t make it out! I feel the heat like a fiery furnace as it approaches from behind. But then the heat just stays the same. It doesn’t get hotter. It doesn’t seem to be getting any closer. I wiggle and writhe for several minutes. I even summon my hatchet and chip away at the rocky surface. Eventually, I do get out. When I do so, I look behind me and the metal orb follows, melting the stone wall, leaving a smooth tunnel behind it. I realize that this sphere is what made this cave. That’s why the opening was so small. But why is it following me? And why does it not get so close as to harm me? I thought for sure it was out to kill me, but it seems I have misjudged the situation.

I apologize to the sphere. “I’m sorry, for harming you. You startled me.” I say, as I bow my head with an arm against my chest to show my deep respect. It doesn’t respond. I look back up at the somewhat deflated sphere only half-full of bubbling hot glowing yellowish-orange liquid. “Um, well. I’ll just be on my way.” I say awkwardly. The sphere doesn’t respond. I begin to walk away, but I can still feel its heat, it’s following me. I try to ignore it. As long as it doesn’t mean to harm me, it doesn’t matter that it comes with me.

I continue walking, glad that the strange thunderous charger with warts of black metal spikes is gone. As I walk up this stony mountain, I hear a voice call out to me. I turn my head about, searching for the voice. “Up here!” It calls. I look up to see the head of a man poking up over a ledge. I immediately reach for my crossbow. “Woah, woah, woah!” The man says, “Put down the weapon, okay? I didn’t mean to sca-” I pull the trigger and the crossbow bolt slams directly in that man’s head. He goes limp and body falls off the ledge and slides down the side of the mountain.

I lower my crossbow down to my side and summon my heirloom hatchet. “Feed.” I command it, and I toss it gently into the air where it hovers and begins to spin. It spins faster and faster. Soon, a trail of blood, slithering through the air like a snake rises from below where the body is still sliding down the mountain. The blood slithers to the spinning hatchet where it spins the blood like a centrifuge as it sinks into the metal of the hatchet, forming red veins of ore in the metal. As it licks up the last of the blood, the spin slows until it comes to a stop in the air. I take the hatchet, glance at the increasingly red hue in the metal, and make the heirloom disappear.

I continue through the mountainous tundra until I come to a forest. Molten orb sears through trees, causing them to topple behind me. It turns out that this sphere is actually quite useful. It does as I direct, and chopping down those trees leaves a trail that I may find my way back again. As the sphere feeds, it slowly fills with more glowing liquid, inflating again. I’m glad it is healing. I feel bad for harming it. Eventually, the trees thin out as I reach the forest edge. The large plain peters out at a drop off. We’re on the top of a cliff and there is a tall tower at the edge of the cliff. It’s a windmill. There are several other people here. Fighting. They wear incredible gear and display amazing powers. I wish I could regale the impressive sight in detail. But sadly, that is impossible. It is clear from what I see of them that each and every one of these individuals is unique and incredibly gifted. Some fly on angelic wings, some ride glorious steeds that seem to all be anything but horses. Pretty much everyone is wearing extravagant, over the top armor.

Most everything they have seems overly decorative and many have magical baubles and trinkets floating the air around them, following them around. I am about to laugh derisively at these people having these useless objects floating around them, but then I remember that I too have something floating beside me. The sphere of molten metal radiates heat and light. Many of these people are not fighting, but rather, they are conversing with others. I find this strange. The fact that they don’t kill each other on-sight means that they must be partners of the same faction. But no one else works with me and my vampire lord. I hadn’t considered that other lords would send down teams of their servants together to obtain their desires. It does seem reasonable now that I think about it, since a group of people would have more power than a single individual.

Yet, I have always worked alone, and I have always flourished. These teams of enemies will meet their end. I have fully healed since my skirmish with the sphere, so I am confident in my ability to defeat each and everyone of these warriors. I lift my crossbow and peer through the sights. I aim for the head of one of the many warriors gathered in crowds talking with each other. The bolt flies through the air and strikes the warrior in the head. The woman turns around. She’s got curly black hair that goes down a foot past her shoulders. A length of hair lies over the front of her dark purple armor on either side of her face. At first her face displays confusion, but as I launch another bolt towards her, she grimaces with rage. She thrusts her gauntleted right hand forward, fingers hand open, palm facing the bolt. The bolt stops in mid air, and she whips her hand sideways, causing the crossbow bolt to fling into the ground a little to the side.

I seem to have underestimated my opponents. No matter, I shall still be victorious. Projectiles will not be effective against this warrior, so I summon my hatchet and run towards her. The other people glance towards the conflict but pay it no heed. The people the woman was talking to, however, are furious. They join her to slay me. I grin. The hatchet in my hand eggs me on. Forward! Forward! Fight! Fight! The curly-haired woman in purple metal armor stretches her hand out towards me. Fingers out but slowly moving together to make her hand flat and straight like a wall. Translucent blades appear in the air around her. She makes a cutting motion with her arm, as though it were a blade and she was chopping some invisible enemy just in front of her. The translucent blades floating in the air swoop towards me.

I jump to the right, towards her allies and slam my hatchet into the space beneath the pauldron of a knightly paladin whose appearance is hidden under their helmet with the face plate down. They raise their shield to brace for my assault as their sword points forwards to stop my assault. But I ignore the blade and run straight into it, my hatchet cuts deep into its shoulder, causing the knightly paladin to stumble to the ground, their sword slides out of my stomach, bringing guts and blood along with it. I can’t even feel the pain. I leave my hatchet embedded into the shoulder of the fallen paladin trying to struggle to their feet. “Feed!” I command. The hatchet begins to spin, slashing further and further into the shoulder closer and closer to the neck. The paladin slumps back to the ground as its blood spins into the hatchet like a centrifuge. I raise my crossbow as my enemies stare at their fallen comrade in shock and horror.

I take my shot, barely even aiming. I don’t have much time before she gets a grip of her senses. The bolt strikes the woman in the neck. She really should have worn a helmet. She clutches her head and her allies snap out of their stupor, moving to form a wall in front of her. They’re blocking my aim, I can’t shoot her while they’re in the way. And she’ll soon recover enough to push away my projectiles. Oh well, I guess my hatchet will have to wait until the battle is over before it feeds.

I summon my blade. It appears before me, still spinning, blood trailing towards it from the fallen paladin. I examine my enemies. They’re terrified of what happened, but they’re not scared for their lives. They don’t see me as too much of a threat. I find it amusing. They think they can defeat me. The last of the blood licks up into the spinning heirloom and I snatch it out of the air. As I clutch the hatchet, the blood it has collected slowly seeps down into the wound where I was pierced in the stomach. My stomach closes and heals, leaving no sign of injury.

I slowly walk towards the group. I stare them in the eyes. They all look very powerful and accomplished. There is one with a wooden staff with a yellow crystal floating above the carved wooden head of the stick. Another one wields a massive warhammer and scowls at me. One lacks armor, wearing only a cloak and some daggers. He will be easy to kill. He has no protection. There are several more, but I don’t pay attention because my hunger drives me forward. Staring me down, with a warhammer in his hands, that warrior looks quite powerful. I can already feel the euphoria rising as I break into a sprint. Shurikens sever my tendons and arrows tear through my shoulders, and the spiked mace is definitely shattering my ribs. But the warrior with the warhammer bringing his hammer down towards my head holds my absolute attention. I raise the hatchet, blocking the pole of the hammer with the crooked edge of the axehead. I move to the left, earning quite a few more blades impaling my torso and lower my hatchet, letting the warhammer come crashing down.

I reach for his neck with my left hand, and jump up onto the head of the hammer. His bulging eyes betray fear as I squeeze his neck and swing my right arm in a circle, driving his allies back. My fingers grow sharp like claws, and his neck draws blood. The red liquid slithers towards the hatchet that is held fast in my circling arm. My wounds heal, sealing the arrows penetrating my skin to be forever stuck in my body. I whip my body around to face the remaining enemies. There are only around ten of them left. Ten in combat with me, not counting the hundreds crowded on this clifftop. Again, they are shocked at my quick take-down of their ally and my reckless abandon, paying no heed to pain or their attacks.

But I’ve broken through their line of defense now. I turn back towards the woman that has purple armor and curly hair and launch my hatchet at her. She holds her left hand against her bleeding head, but she raises her right hand and moves it sideways. The hatchet also moves sideways, and spins right past her. The woman looks exhausted as the hatchet spins past her. But the hatchet is still spinning, it's still hungry, and it can taste the blood in the air. The woman is bleeding. She is dying. The hatchet circles back like a boomerang aiming right for the woman’s head. Her allies start crying out and pointing behind her. The woman is confused, but she turns around just in time to scream as the black hatchet lands its blade right into her forehead. The woman crumples to the floor. I summon the hatchet to my hand and run towards her allies. This time, the allies aren’t paralyzed with shock and fear. Instead, they are angry.