The Sleeping King

Long since forgotten, tucked away in a tangle of trees, lies the remains of a once proud city-state's throne. Upon this throne sits a withered figure, arms crossed, sleeping. As they have now for hundreds of years.

An Arrogant Demand

The Sleeping King was an arrogant, impatient man. Once the king of a now forgotten city-state, somewhere near the site of Romm today. His time was precious, and if he wanted something, he wanted it then and there. One day, strange talk began in his court. His subjects discussed a strange being that spoke to them in their dreams— a god, they figured.

The king spoke, loudly, so that the conversing subjects could hear his voice over their own. "Speak. What is this god you speak of?" His words echoed and fell over the huddled group, startling them.
A woman broke from them, and addressed the king with her head held down. "We know not, for we cannot comprehend them. Yet we cannot sleep without seeing them in our dreams."
"And do you fear them?" Asked the king.
"We know not whether to fear or worship them."
"What is a god but a king's peer? Come, let me meet with them."
The woman shifted uncomfortably. "Forgive me, we did not choose to meet with them— they simply came to us."
A moment of tense silenced followed, as the king thoughtfully tapped his fingers on the side of his throne. "Then," he said triumphantly "I shall sleep! And they will come to me, as I have demanded."

— The Sleeping King

Determined to meet with this god, the king had his subjects leave him in peace. Without so much as a moment's wait, he fell into a deep sleep. He would never awaken from this slumber, and his subjects would never meet the dream-god again. His city-state fell into disarray shortly thereafter, yet no one dared touch the Sleeping King's body— as if compelled by an outside force to leave him be. And there he lies today, in his throne, sleeping, and dreaming.

In a World of Dreams

You know nothing. You were wrong. You know nothing. You were wrong. You know nothing. You were wrong. These words repeated through the arrogant king's mind and body as he dreamed, reverberating through every inch as horrid vibrations. The god spoken of by his subjects simply stared down at him, indifferent. A great being made of glass fractals, tied tightly to one another with threads of flesh. In front of this shimmering body floated a panoply of translucent, colorless eyes which never once blinked. Each time he looked upon the being, their form seemed as if to glitter and shift into something new.
He was wrong. He knew nothing.