Salleek opens his eyes.
A bright white light surrounds you. You are naked, but have no fear. Your body floats, standing up, your feet are together, your toes pointed down. Your hands are by your side, but the palm of your hands are forward as if you are embracing the light. Welcoming it. There is no air, but you do not need to breathe.
You are surrounded by clouds that move almost like the ocean. They shift and change, not like the ones in the sky, but as if they are being slowly tossed and turned from side to side. The movement is relaxing, it reminds you of when you looked out into the ocean when you first woke up on the beach. Seeing the waves slowly move in and out, in and out.
You are still for a moment, simply letting yourself take in what you see and feel. It's oddly entrancing, in a way, just as it would be to watch the sun set over the ocean, causing the rippling water to glitter warmly. If it were possible, you would stay here forever, floating in this absolute peace. And yet, you knows, you cannot. There is more to this than the sensations and the sights. Slowly, as though beckoning something, or perhaps asking it to draw you forward, or perhaps just wanting to touch one of the clouds, you reach out your hand. You are not entirely certain what you trying to accomplish with this action, but you know it's not important, for one way or another, what needs to happen will.
As you move your hand upwards a large figure appears before you. It does not block the light, only becomes a part of it. It is tall, and like you it is floating. Before you is an unfathomable being you can only see clothed, and never exposed, to lay your eyes on it would blind you. You know this. The figure is clothed in a snuggly fitted priest's robe almost like the one you found at the Holy Beacon, but this is not armor, this is no common mortal cloth. It is a dark brown robe with light brown hem that flows almost like layer to its feet. Even though you feel no wind, you see the bottom of the robe moving softly like the clouds around you. The robe is tied at the waist tightly by a large black cloth covering, wrapping around the figures midriff. But there are no tied ends, the cloth just flows to the side and gracefully floats there about two arms lengths away like a boat attached to an anchor.
The robe of the figure has a large hood that comes up and over its head. The face of the hood is covered by a large helmet like shield, but this is part of the hood itself and does not touch the face beyond it, only conceals it from your eyes. The helmet drops down the nose bridge obscuring your view beyond it. The top of the helmet is pointed into a large triangle, like a dagger blade. The triangle almost seems to point into the burning halo behind the figure. Which unlike the halos in books, which sit on the head, this halo is behind the figures head and twice the size of any halo you have ever seen in books. The halo burns lightly, flames flickering around it like a controlled flame. It clutches against its chest with both hands a large book.
It is silent.
You study the figure before you, admiration and great respect in your eyes. This being is one of great power, you have no doubt, and only one possibility of its identity can come to your mind, though to speak in the presence of this being seems wrong, somehow, as though to do such would offend it. Despite this, you dare, for this figure has revealed itself to you, and so you speaks. "You are Lux," are the first, and perhaps only, words you speak. They are spoken as a fact, though a small worm of doubt creeps into your mind.
The clouds around you turn vicious as if an angry storm has hit the waves, they toss now, as if a hurricane has brought forth anger. They darken around. The figure does not move. The figure is silent.
The angry clouds around you have grown your worm of doubt into an accepted answer and as soon as you realize you have made a mistake, the room around you is calm. You internally yell at yourself for being such a fool. There had been statues at the Holy Beacon. If this were Lux, it would have been obvious. Now, you are quiet, carefully contemplating the possible courses of action you can take. Eventually, you speak up once more. "I have lost my way, so I ask that you forgive me for any actions and words of mine that may offend you. What being do I have the honor of being before?"
There are no words only the realization of the answers yourself.
While you have not known this being and you are sure you have never laid eyes upon it, it has known you and guided you, and you understand now that the guidance through your life was this being. For its presence to be shown to you, it must know you are in great need and knows your fears that you have lost your way. You feel a relaxing calm as you understand that you are not lost.
You turn your gaze towards the book that the figure holds. With more of an understanding of the being itself, your curiosity begins to concentrate on what the entity possessed in its grip. You could only ponder what secrets, what wonders and answers, the book could contain. You knew not if the book was truly for your eyes, but all the same it captivates you now.
You are ultimately disappointed as you come to a stunning realization: you will never the see book. Its language is so foreign to your mind that to even know it is an impossible feat. There is no reasoning as to why, only that it’s containment's you would not understand. It has no motivation, for a book can only contain knowledge and not create it. You realize the book is just that. A book. A book that must be used as a tool to be part of some greater purpose.
"What is your reason for showing yourself to me?" you ask. Though the question you ask could be answered in many vague ways, you suspected this entity would know that you wished for greater detail. It guides you, and no doubt this instance was an extension of that, but yet...what need had arisen that could warrant a being so wonderous to show itself to you?
The being is silent at first and then opens its arms wide towards you. You see now it wears gloves that are a lighter brown than the hem of its robes. You see no hem points on the gloves, it is as if they are crafted from a single fabric and molded to perfectly fit each hand . A book appears before you. It is closed and floating in front of you just like you are floating and the being is floating. It is a large black book and its pages are unevenly cut like books of the old. The being with its outstretched arms no longer holds a book. You reach out, hesitate, remembering how you had angered the being and its reaction when you assumed who it was… and then as if you were granted permission, you touch it.
You are slow and deliberate with your movements as you carefully take hold of the book and pulls it towards you. Now, in possession of it, you study the cover of the book closely, making note of every detail. You are still for several moments, enchanted by it, and then, cautiously, moves as though to open it. However, you do not, instead returning your gaze to the figure in front of you to ensure that you are still behaving as permitted.
The figures arms are now closed and once again it is holding the book against its chest. You still have the book. While they look the same, yours is not as large.
Noting that the figure does not seem to disapprove, you proceeds to open the book you hold and look inside.
As you open the book you wake up in your room in the Tavern.
You look around, confused by what you just experienced. Was it a dream?
As you stand up to dress and prepare yourself for the day, you see it. There at the foot of your bedroll is the book from your dream.