Amon sorted through misty images and the ever-changing map of the world, noting the concentration on flows of iron and steel, reshaping copper and precious metals, a glimmering fall of sharp-pointed nails. Strange; what could this mean-?
Amon raised intangible brows, listening. That wasn’t a conscious call….
I think… the dreams are a way you ask me things, right? his king’s rukh whispered. Not that you can answer back, unless I remember this in the morning…. I think I have a plan. Maybe. At least it’s a chance to fight. I wish I knew what you think.
Maybe it’ll work. Maybe I’m just dreaming. But… wanted you to know… today was amazing.
Amon scowled, poking those glimmering bits of soul. Surely, they hadn’t tapped more than a fraction of his true power-
A shimmer of flames, warm without burning. Startlement, shock – and then the rueful giggle, as his king realized he was being used as a nice, warm rock to bask on. A wistful image of what-might-be, the hope of Aladdin with them, reaching out to touch snakes no ordinary mortal would poke on a dare.
Amon held his presence there, blinking in amazement. Mortal kings sought Djinn because they needed power. That was how dungeons worked.
Only from the way hope and flames and the flow of coins and silk were all woven together, this king thought wonder was as important as power.
And it is, Amon thought, recalling a world ages lost. Lord Ugo and Aladdin – they gave us all the hope to keep going. To hold our sanctuaries firm, and save as many of our people as we could, until Lord Ugo could open the path to a living world.
This is Aladdin’s chosen king.