Of Truth and Beasts

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... never close your eyes again ... not ever ... not until they all die....

Byûnduní—Deep-Root—halted in the dark of a chamber so tall and empty that he heard the frightened clench of his own massive hands. And why should there be light or sound in the temple of his people? The hall of the Bäynæ, the dwarven Eternals, was now a place filled only with false hopes. The people’s greatest ancestral spirits had abandoned them.

Suddenly, he heard the pounding behind him, though it seemed to hammer within his skull, until it took shape in a thunderous gale of breathy, tangled voices.

... they will kill you, if they can.... They will; you know this ...

He wanted to scream in rage at the chorus of overlapping whispers in his head. They had torn at him for so long, he could not tell if those words of warning were his or theirs. He could not remember when he had last closed his eyes, though he felt as if he were asleep. Not in a dream, but in an endless nightmare where silence had been slain.

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