She does not last more than thirty seconds before the dream ends. I know it is her will that gives out; her command that cuts the dreamscape. I see the very moment she surrenders: the way the light drains from her eyes.
The hate that sparks behind them, for me.
Well good, hate me. It's better than trying to play nice with me.
I prefer things to be more honest like that.
Before the dream ends, I look at Hui, whose mouth has come back in all the confusion. Perhaps Thraevirula lost control of everything — or perhaps there is no reason as to why Hui's mouth returned. There's no real logic to this place. There's just death and horror now.
Hui just stares at me. Eyes wide and reflecting the terrible scene behind me.
"Raiten…" she begins. "I…I'm sorry." Even though it's perhaps the hundredth time she's told me that, it feels different. There's more weight behind it this time — now that she witnesses the sheer breadth of beasts I've had to contend with over the past ten years; now that she hears the shrill screams of the plague witch, she finally seems to understand.
I feel like I've let it all out. And that feels good.
Surprising even myself for once, I do not respond with anger. Instead, I give her a nod.
"I know," I tell her. Then, hesitantly, I put a hand on her shoulder. "It's…"
Not your fault.
I can't even believe I'm about to say that.
But, before the words can come out…
Everything disappears.
…
I wake up to the orange glow of a firelight. A small campfire crackles in front of me. The forest chirps with sound: crickets and frogs, birds and the low growling of gators.
I turn on my back, feel the cot of wool twist, stare up at the sky. Stars peak out in the night.
Kiren snores besides me, curled up into his own cot. The mancer looks so innocent — so peaceful. I have to thank him later. Had he not given me Meteorfang, Crooked might've been my end.
The great Thunder Watcher, felled by a tree.
I scoff.
Then, I allow myself laugh, heartily, fully. I laugh so hard that I have to bite down on the wool to muffle myself.
I'm alive.
I survived.
"What's so funny kid?" a voice asks, breaking through the night. I sit up, startled, only to find Saegor sitting by the fire, stoking it with a stick. Zyla sleeps soundly by his log.
The one-eyed mancer doesn't look at me. He's lost in the flames.
"Nothing. Sorry if I woke you," I tell him.
He waves a hand. "It's fine. I've been awake. I'm glad you're alive at least—poor Kiren thought you died. But, I told him you're made of tougher shit than that." He grants me a look now. "How did it feel?"
"What? The illusion-trap?"
He shakes his head. "I had my own version of that kid, I know how that felt. No, I'm talking about you getting visited by the witch herself."
One of the fire-logs slips, sending a volley of sparks careening into the starry night-sky.
I squint at the warlock.
He just smiles. "Don't worry kid, I'm no traitor. I'm just curious, that's all."
"How do you know?"
"Well, I didn't know until now. When you just confirmed it."
"Alright, then how did you suspect?"
He shrugs. "I cast mental alarms on all of us after the illusion-trap. Not my best work, but it at least lets me know when someone tries invading one of our dreamscapes. And who else would have the power to do that besides the witch."
"Right." I shrug off the cot and carefully step over Kiren, taking a seat on the log opposite of Saegor. He's a wiry old man, but there's a quiet strength to his bones. A different sort of strength than Erot — its older, darker strength that lends itself to whispers and blackness.
"She mentioned you, you know?"
"I'm sure she did."
"Said you were a 'far worse person than' she could ever be. Why is that?"
He stokes the fire calmly for a moment, as if he didn't hear the question. Then, he shrugs.
"Don't know kid. Maybe she had a peak at my memories. Those affected my illusion-trap a lot."
"What was your node-monster?"
"I'd rather not say. Not that it matters — I escaped without killing it, through a backdoor. What was yours again? Trees?"
I grit my teeth at the thought of them. "Yes."
He looks as if he's about to laugh, then shakes his head. "I don't even blame you kid. This forest is getting to me too."
"Was it based on our fears?"
"Nah. I don't think so at least. Maybe partly… but, it was probably just whatever she felt like giving us." He cranes his head up, sitting back on the log now. "She's a right powerful mancer; more powerful than I thought. It takes a whole lot of skill to even conceive the trap that she set for us."
"Are you thinking that the other soldiers that Catolica sent got caught in them?" I ask, almost guessing.
"No, but now that you mention it, that could be possible. Or she might've just sent the plagued after them — who knows? Who cares? She can throw all she wants at us; we'll come for her anyway."
I raise an eyebrow. "She's not part of the mission." I say it as a reminder of his own mission more so than any feelings of loyalty or duty I have—like him, I'd gladly kill her.
"Well, she's part of my mission."
The way he says "my" is not possessive, like some long lost lover. Rather, it is… familial. I scratch my head. Maybe I'm reading too much into this. Should I even ask?
But I am tired all of a sudden.
"How long was I out in total?" I ask him.
"For the day. Don't worry, you haven't missed anything. Come first light, we'll continue onwards." He assesses my body now, his one eye focused on my leg. "You alright?"
"It should be healed enough I think."
He chuckles darkly. "Ah, what a terrible thing. Immortality, eh? I pity you Raiten."
I'm surprised he of all people understands. He seems the type to want immortality, not scorn it.
"I used to pity myself as well. But, then I figured that pity is pretty useless."
"I'll drink to that," he says, raising a skin of wine. He takes a long swig before handing it out to me. I refuse, and he shrugs before taking a longer swig and just going back to staring at the fire, as if our conversation never even occurred.
I fall asleep once more.
Thankfully, it is a dreamless rest.
[End of Volume I: Part I]