And so I continued my journey through the land of dreams, and as I dreamt I saw a queen in the mountains. She held herself high and straight; in her voice was elegance, and force. A cunning diplomat, and a powerful sorceress. And as I travelled through her realm I heard her voice on the chill winds, summoning her people to her side, and beckoning the rest to follow her as well. She spoke of a time of glory long past, and a time coming soon when glory would be theirs again. She spoke of rebirth, and renewal. And I was for a moment entranced.
But then I continued to listen. She began to speak using words I did not understand. She spoke the names of strange creatures, strange places, and strange kingdoms, which I had never before heard, and she spoke of them as if I knew what significance they held. Her rhetoric was awash with this presumptuous foreign language, and I became lost.
And as I stumbled and fell, I saw from my place in the dirt another vision. I saw that the enigmatic names within her speech were wielded like a sword, meant to intimidate; like a wand, meant to ensorcell. I saw the weak-willed masses fall by that sword and follow her, as it swung over my head. And as I lay there in the dust, forgotten, as she gathered her people to her and turned to enter her palace, I saw that she was but a shell of a queen.
Her words could have meant something, if only they were more than just words; meant to inspire those who hear but do not listen. I wanted to believe her, follow her, worship her. She was beautiful, and graceful, and exotic, and I loved her. But there was nothing for me to love within that lithe dress and quiet feet that seemed to hover above the ground. She was only a dress, only words. Long words, heavy words, words meant to crush my spirit with their mere presence. But empty words all the same. And I hated her more than I loved her because of it.
And so I walked away from the kingdom in the mountains, and continued to dream.