For the first time in months, Togrul didn't awake screaming from horrible visions of land-krakens. Were he a bit more introspective, he'd wish he had.
The false prophet's orders had seemed simple enough: bring her more of the savage lizard auxiliaries. After spending months with none but the ill-mannered and ill-tempered beasts for company, he'd been glad when one of her lieutenants had met him in the outskirts of a forest with orders to lead them with her against the garrison of the local lord. It was a simple, savage battle: the militia's cavalry was no match for the fish-men and lizards whipped into a savage frenzy by Xi Mi. But as the Atlantians began to roast the fallen horses, and their less-civilized allies gorged themselves on their raw flesh, something strange happened.
From the forest beyond the clearing-cum-abattoir, Togrul heard the faintest echoes of song. He strained to hear it, and as it grew louder, he was struck dumb by its beauty. Never had he heard such a sound, and he doubted he ever would again. The savages around him paid no heed to it, until their hulking leader issued a loud croak that made Togrul start. Eyes raising from their bloody feast, the Atlantians' gazes found the patch of wood indicated by their leader's pointed claw.
The song grew clearer, and as the Atlantians shifted uneasily, the brush shifted and moved. A radiant, singing golden shape emerged from the forest, and Togrul's heart stopped. The aesthetically perfect figure shifted and danced in time to the song, and Togrul wept. He was not worthy to stand before a being of such perfection. Truly, this wondrous creature was an incarnation of a true god, unlike the monster he was forced to follow. As the merman fell to his knees, the song rose in pitch and tempo, and the divine being seemed to radiate health. A magnificently warm breeze danced across the glade, and the splendid golden aura seemed to shine even brighter. The soil beneath the dancing vision shifted and smoothed itself, and its gleaming aegis shone brighter still. The music grew louder, and hearing nothing else, Togrul timidly parted his lips to add his unworthy voice to the song.
From behind him, rolling like thunder, a discordant Word crashed through the melody.
The divine being faltered and missed a step, then renewed the song. The glow of health grew brighter, and the music soared once more toward the heights once more.
Again, the crashing Word cut through the song.
The golden figure missed another step. It regained its balance, raised its gracefully curved sword, and parted its lips to let the sweet melody ring forth anew. But by then, it was too late.
In a wave, the brutish Atlantians who had surged forward at the first sight of the glowing being reached it. As fangs flashed and spears thrust, the golden aura mixed with red, then abruptly flickered away. The wondrous song faded without an echo. Where a moment earlier perfection of form and grace had stood was only a writhing mass of scaly green savages.
In his dream and in his blanket, Togrul silently wept.