16th Ashan, 721
night
night
It had been a long two days' walk, but they had arrived in the Sweetwine Woods. Wren was walking beside Hart, a length of red string tied to his wrist and dark glasses perched on his head.
They'd been walking through the woods for half the day, but it was just now that Kirei's house came into view. Hart realized as he saw the house that, like Wren, the house had a length of red string. The string went from the house to Hart, and he realized that it was tied to his wrist. The string was taut, and they walked to the house. They walked and walked, but the string remained taut, and the house remained distant.
"Wren, we're going to run to the house," Hart said.
"Karshe?" he said, and the stag was on Hart's other side. Hart lifted Wren up and placed him on Karshe's back. Wren put his arms around her neck, the dark glasses having fallen over his eyes.
They ran to the house.
Karshe and Wren bounded forward, running through the woods. Hart ran, but he didn't run forward. The house remained distant. Karshe and Wren and the house were getting more and more distant from him.
He was going backwards.
"No," he said, but the house that had, moments before, come into view was out of view once more. Karshe and Wren bounded away from him; there was a great white light, and in the light Hart saw a man with many wings, and with no wings. When the white light dimmed, Karshe and Wren were gone. Hart ran, but he was going backwards; the trees went by him on either side, quickly, and then more quickly. The string around his wrist became so taut it hurt, and then it snapped and he realized he had run. He had run.
He had run away, and he wasn't able to stop running.
"No," Hart breathed.
The trees went by Hart more and more quickly. They blurred into one another, and Hart saw that they weren't trees at all. They were walls. The walls were made of vegetation, and they went up to the sky. They weren't blurring by him;
he was in the Maze.
Breathing quickly, Hart said, "Karshe?" Wren and Karshe had gone into the white light, but the stag should have been in the Maze. Wren should have been in the Maze; Anthropos Apteros was at the center. But they were gone.
Hart looked to the sides. He'd gotten to the center of the Maze before. But he didn't remember; had he gone left or right?
He didn't know what to do, and then the Maze turned upside down.
Hart was standing in the Maze; then he was falling down into the sky. He wanted to grab something, he didn't want to Fall, but the walls of the Maze fell by him too quickly. He fell away from the Maze, and the sky was a mirror, and he shattered it. The mirror shattered, and it was like Hart shattered. He saw himself in every shard of mirror, and in every mirror he was different, he was not himself, and he was himself fully.
The mirrors were all him.
Hart shattered and fell down, down, down to the turning of the world. Below him he saw all of civilization, all of everything, the cities and the people in the cities, and the dreamscapes of the people like countless glittering stars. Civilizations rose and fell, and fell, and fell, and Hart was falling with them. The buildings crumbled, but there were always more buildings, building taller and taller, and then crumbling down. Dreamscapes glittered into existence and dimmed into nothing. The people lived and died and the world turned and turned.
And Hart was a part of it.
Hart was in a city, and the city was building up around him. How tall would the buildings get before they crumbled? He didn't know. He walked the streets and saw a small girl running. The girl had red hair and she was so small, no more than two years old. Ru. But though she was small, she ran freely. At any moment the buildings would crumble, and her world would turn to nothing. At any moment, her civilization would fall. Hart didn't know how she ran so
freely. When Hart ran, it was backwards.
Shards of mirror littered the streets, and Hart wanted to tell the small girl to stop running. He was afraid the mirrors would hurt her, that they would hurt her feet, but they didn't.
They didn't because the mirrors weren't littering the streets; they were in Hart's hands. Looking down at them, at all of him, Hart saw that one of the mirrors was red. He turned the mirror in his hands.
The mirror wasn't him, and there was writing on its back.
They'd been walking through the woods for half the day, but it was just now that Kirei's house came into view. Hart realized as he saw the house that, like Wren, the house had a length of red string. The string went from the house to Hart, and he realized that it was tied to his wrist. The string was taut, and they walked to the house. They walked and walked, but the string remained taut, and the house remained distant.
"Wren, we're going to run to the house," Hart said.
"Karshe?" he said, and the stag was on Hart's other side. Hart lifted Wren up and placed him on Karshe's back. Wren put his arms around her neck, the dark glasses having fallen over his eyes.
They ran to the house.
Karshe and Wren bounded forward, running through the woods. Hart ran, but he didn't run forward. The house remained distant. Karshe and Wren and the house were getting more and more distant from him.
He was going backwards.
"No," he said, but the house that had, moments before, come into view was out of view once more. Karshe and Wren bounded away from him; there was a great white light, and in the light Hart saw a man with many wings, and with no wings. When the white light dimmed, Karshe and Wren were gone. Hart ran, but he was going backwards; the trees went by him on either side, quickly, and then more quickly. The string around his wrist became so taut it hurt, and then it snapped and he realized he had run. He had run.
He had run away, and he wasn't able to stop running.
"No," Hart breathed.
The trees went by Hart more and more quickly. They blurred into one another, and Hart saw that they weren't trees at all. They were walls. The walls were made of vegetation, and they went up to the sky. They weren't blurring by him;
he was in the Maze.
Breathing quickly, Hart said, "Karshe?" Wren and Karshe had gone into the white light, but the stag should have been in the Maze. Wren should have been in the Maze; Anthropos Apteros was at the center. But they were gone.
Hart looked to the sides. He'd gotten to the center of the Maze before. But he didn't remember; had he gone left or right?
He didn't know what to do, and then the Maze turned upside down.
Hart was standing in the Maze; then he was falling down into the sky. He wanted to grab something, he didn't want to Fall, but the walls of the Maze fell by him too quickly. He fell away from the Maze, and the sky was a mirror, and he shattered it. The mirror shattered, and it was like Hart shattered. He saw himself in every shard of mirror, and in every mirror he was different, he was not himself, and he was himself fully.
The mirrors were all him.
Hart shattered and fell down, down, down to the turning of the world. Below him he saw all of civilization, all of everything, the cities and the people in the cities, and the dreamscapes of the people like countless glittering stars. Civilizations rose and fell, and fell, and fell, and Hart was falling with them. The buildings crumbled, but there were always more buildings, building taller and taller, and then crumbling down. Dreamscapes glittered into existence and dimmed into nothing. The people lived and died and the world turned and turned.
And Hart was a part of it.
Hart was in a city, and the city was building up around him. How tall would the buildings get before they crumbled? He didn't know. He walked the streets and saw a small girl running. The girl had red hair and she was so small, no more than two years old. Ru. But though she was small, she ran freely. At any moment the buildings would crumble, and her world would turn to nothing. At any moment, her civilization would fall. Hart didn't know how she ran so
freely. When Hart ran, it was backwards.
Shards of mirror littered the streets, and Hart wanted to tell the small girl to stop running. He was afraid the mirrors would hurt her, that they would hurt her feet, but they didn't.
They didn't because the mirrors weren't littering the streets; they were in Hart's hands. Looking down at them, at all of him, Hart saw that one of the mirrors was red. He turned the mirror in his hands.
The mirror wasn't him, and there was writing on its back.
I will exchange her for you. Come alone, to the place you dreamed of.
I watch you all. Every plan, every conversation.
If you try to double cross me, we will simply never meet.
I watch you all. Every plan, every conversation.
If you try to double cross me, we will simply never meet.
The writing wasn't him, and Hart realized abruptly that he was in a dream.
16th Ashan, 721
night
night
The moment Hart realized he was in a dream,
But the writing was there, red against the dark, and it wasn't him.
"Karshe," Hart said, and the stag was beside him. Karshe looked at the writing and said, "What does it mean?"
"I don't know," Hart said. "It's not my writing. Someone is manipulating my dreamscape." His gaze didn't move from the words. "Someone is manipulating me."
"But why?" a young girl said from his other side. Tamsen looked like a young girl, about Wren's age, though she wasn't. She was an emeyan. She looked like Wren, though her features were sharper, more like a biqaj's, and her teeth were sharp like a fish's.
"Tamsen, do you know anything about this?" Hart asked.
The emeyan tilted her head at the writing. "Well, I don't read," she said. She glanced around the dark dreamscape. "But I don't think your dreamscape is safe."
"It doesn't feel safe," Karshe said. One of her front hooves pawed the ground worriedly as she looked up at the writing. "What does it say?"
" 'I will exchange her for you,' " Hart read. He read the words slowly, memorizing them. He'd need to remember them in the waking world. " 'Come alone, to the place you dreamed of. I watch you all. Every plan, every conversation. If you try to double cross me, we will simply never meet.' "
" 'Every conversation,' " Karshe said, and glanced around the dreamscape.
"They stole Ru," Tamsen said though sharp, smiling teeth.
"We don't know that," Hart murmured.
"Why would they say they stole her if they didn't?"
"I don't know," Hart said. "I need to confirm the information." His gaze didn't move from the writing, but tears fell down his face. He brushed them away, speaking to Karshe. "Is there anything you're able to do, to confirm?"
"I'll do my best," Karshe said.
"Tamsen," Hart said, speaking to the emeyan girl. Her mouth seemed to have grown bigger. She had more teeth, two, three rows of them now, all sharp. Spines like those of a pufferfish poked from her hair. "Look at the writing, and at my dreamscape," Hart said. "
Wings like fins grew on the emeyan's back, and she went up to look at the words.
"Ru," Hart said, and Karshe pressed her nose gently to his cheek. "Ru."
the dream fell away
. Behind the dream there was nothing, nothing but his dreamscape, and the dreamscape was empty. Hart was standing in a dark space, alone. But the writing was there, red against the dark, and it wasn't him.
"Karshe," Hart said, and the stag was beside him. Karshe looked at the writing and said, "What does it mean?"
"I don't know," Hart said. "It's not my writing. Someone is manipulating my dreamscape." His gaze didn't move from the words. "Someone is manipulating me."
"But why?" a young girl said from his other side. Tamsen looked like a young girl, about Wren's age, though she wasn't. She was an emeyan. She looked like Wren, though her features were sharper, more like a biqaj's, and her teeth were sharp like a fish's.
"Tamsen, do you know anything about this?" Hart asked.
The emeyan tilted her head at the writing. "Well, I don't read," she said. She glanced around the dark dreamscape. "But I don't think your dreamscape is safe."
"It doesn't feel safe," Karshe said. One of her front hooves pawed the ground worriedly as she looked up at the writing. "What does it say?"
" 'I will exchange her for you,' " Hart read. He read the words slowly, memorizing them. He'd need to remember them in the waking world. " 'Come alone, to the place you dreamed of. I watch you all. Every plan, every conversation. If you try to double cross me, we will simply never meet.' "
" 'Every conversation,' " Karshe said, and glanced around the dreamscape.
"They stole Ru," Tamsen said though sharp, smiling teeth.
"We don't know that," Hart murmured.
"Why would they say they stole her if they didn't?"
"I don't know," Hart said. "I need to confirm the information." His gaze didn't move from the writing, but tears fell down his face. He brushed them away, speaking to Karshe. "Is there anything you're able to do, to confirm?"
"I'll do my best," Karshe said.
"Tamsen," Hart said, speaking to the emeyan girl. Her mouth seemed to have grown bigger. She had more teeth, two, three rows of them now, all sharp. Spines like those of a pufferfish poked from her hair. "Look at the writing, and at my dreamscape," Hart said. "
I'll look too
, when I'm done memorizing the words. Did they leave anything else behind? How are they manipulating my dreamscape?"Wings like fins grew on the emeyan's back, and she went up to look at the words.
"Ru," Hart said, and Karshe pressed her nose gently to his cheek. "Ru."
Notes: Karshe is a talking stag. She is Hart's companion in the waking world and the dreaming world.
Tamsen is an emeyan. The emeyans writeup is here.
Tamsen is an emeyan. The emeyans writeup is here.
