I sat in the hand of the Skeleton King as he carried me away from the castle. He oscillated between jovial and dejected. I suppose mood swings are to be expected when one has been dead long enough to become a monarch.

“What were you doing in there?” The king asked. “An entity haunts those halls, consuming all the unfortunate souls it can find.”

“I don’t know. This is all a dream to me. I’m not even sure if you’re real.”

“Oh I’m real, mate. You can count on that.” The giant skeleton stroked his ivory chin with his other hand. “A dream, you say… perhaps I should take you to the hill folk. They’ll know how to make sense of this.”

I’d never heard of these people and, seeing as it was a dream, thought it best to see the strange journey through. “All right, to the hill folk.” I pointed onward, not knowing where the hill folk were, and the giant skeleton strode across a gently rolling hill-country as the sun rose ahead of us.