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Ghar Dak slept after the long hunt and for the first time he dreamed. In his mind he ran along paths he knew well in his waking life but something was different. He wasn’t pursuing the creatures his tribe usually hunted in the jungle, no, it was as if he was the beast and in his head he sprinted more swiftly than any Tarosian ever ran.
Ghar’s “beast” self came to a river full of shimmering water and a bay where it was still and he looked in to see his reflection to determine what sort of creature he’d become. The face staring back at him was not an animal but not one he knew either. It was a Tarosian face, older and worn, perhaps from seeing more years of Taros’ unforgiving storms and heat. The image rippled with the slow moving current and then spoke directly to Ghar’s swimming mind.
“Drink deep of the waters of this river Ghar Dak, forever let it flow into you when you thirst for knowledge and flow from you to share with those who need to be quenched. Its name is Truth, it flows from the vast ocean that is The All and it is only halted by the death of spirit. You are the first dreamer Ghar Dak, you among your race that is among the oldest of them all.”
“You will become aware that there is more than what you think you are and you will share this power or hold it to your self, the choice is yours. Use it to enlighten or use it to destroy, for from this point on you are in your own way as powerful as Chaos or Order and perhaps The All itself. You will not know all the secrets I’ve shared when again you join your waking life, but you will remember a whisper of them, enough to spark the passion in your race; the passion that will decide your destiny and therefore the fate of all things.”
“Sleep in peace and dream well traveler; you are first blessed by almighty Chaos. Take this gift, this river of truth and the fire of passion and let it flow and let it burn and be authors of your own fate and write the history of the multiverse. The Wheel keeps turning. Make for yourself and your kind a significant existence with this gift you are given.” The face in the water rippled away and only Ghar Dak’s face remained.
No longer was he the beast that was running, it was his familiar visage that stared back and in his dream, the first dream, he knelt and drank. In his mind the water was cool and almost luminescent in his cupped hands, the taste was refreshing but slightly bitter. As he drank he felt raindrops on his back and heard the crack of the great thunder in the distance and in the real world Ghar Dak awoke to a storm.
He emerged from the cave and the hard drops pelted his face yet he made no effort to retreat back to shelter. For the first time he felt the rain as something more than an annoyance, the sound of the thunder, the flash of the lightning, the water hitting him moved something in him. It was then that Ghar Dak closed his six eyes, felt the storm stir his soul and he created God.
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