Eight 5.9: Prelude to Foolishness

Yuki set the scene: the two of us were in Ikfael’s shrine. The space was festooned with garlands, and to one side was a table laden with a punch bowl and a tray of cupcakes in a mixture of flavors. A large banner had been tacked to the wall above the table. It read, “Welcome Fala!”

There were no limits to what we could do in my dreams, so I chose to wear an outfit usually reserved for special occasions—a pair of striped trousers, a shirt in the colors of a sunset, and a leather vest beaded in animal patterns. Bihei and the kids had collaborated on each of the pieces.

Yuki flitted around me like an over-excited fairy, their little wings fluttering. For some reason, they’d picked farmer’s overalls and a straw hat for tonight.

I went to try the punch, which was sweet and tart. The cupcake I picked was chocolate with vanilla frosting and a dollop of strawberry jam in the center. I couldn’t help chuckling; Fala was going to flip when she tried one of these. My old world certainly knew how to use sugar.

“How’s it going?” I asked.

“We’re being extra, extra careful,” Yuki replied, “so it’ll be another hour… probably. Do you want to go somewhere else to practice while you wait?”

“No, I’ll stick around and do some work.” With a gesture, I vanished and reappeared inside my “Operations Room.” It was where I kept the information necessary for short- and medium-term planning.

Back in the real world, it was the room in the shrine for pilgrims staying overnight. Here, though, it was a desk stacked with papers, journals, and maps. A bookcase stood to one side and on the other was my personal spell library.

I dug out the map of Maltra that Silasenei had provided and then started rooting around for the information I’d collected over the years about places along the way. To the northwest of Voorhei, at the farthest boundary of the Albeityel region, was an outpost called Bashtotwei. It was supposedly a waystation for people traveling between Maltra and the Three-City Alliance, as well as a homebase for those hunting in the deep wilderness—the no man’s land between nations. On the other side of the wilderness was Bashtencru, an outpost filling a similar role for the Maltrans.

Hmm… Silasenei’s estimate is that travel from Bashtencru to Oostha Hakei should take about thirty days in good weather and another two days to get from the capital to Gorwenta. The Eagle Fortress is supposed to be above the town.

Gorwenta’s main industry is… let’s see… hunting to decrease the pressure of monsters heading deeper into the empire and… where is that… oh, here it is… silver mining. The mine entrance is below the fortress.

I nibbled on the end of my pen as I thought about the placements of the town and mine. The Eagle Fortress clearly served a purpose other than protecting the people or industries nearby. Well, we knew that already, but it was interesting to think about how it played out. And maybe there was a route into the fortress through the rock under it? The fortification was likely warded against intrusion by the element-touched, but it was an option worth investigating.

What else? The packet from Silasenei is more thorough than I would’ve expected. There were standardized weights for currency, so as long as the coins we carried weren’t shaved or clipped, we’d have no problems using or exchanging them. And here’s a list of prices we should expect to get for the spices we’re supposed to be selling. Holy hells, a whole antaak for a single das of cinnamon. That’s like… what? Six ounces?

I sat back and wondered if there was a way to grown cinnamon trees in Voorhei. That would be a hell of a business… which I wouldn’t be able to personally manage, because I couldn’t stay in the village. Get your head out of the clouds, Ollie.

###

Yuki signaled they were ready to bring Fala into the dream, so I put away the papers and organized the desk before joining them. Maybe tidying up wasn’t strictly necessary, but my mind felt more ordered whenever I did so.

Out in the main room, Yuki buzzed through the air in their excitement, summoning even more decorations—flowers, giant balloons, and… Dear gods, it’s a giant chocolate cake in the shape of a kalihchi bear.

“Really?” I asked.

“She’ll have so much fun cutting it open,” they said. “Besides, nothing chocolate can ever be wrong.”

“You know there are people who don’t like the taste, right?” I walked around the cake to admire how life-like it was. “Some people prefer sour or salty things.”

“Those flavors are good too,” Yuki said, “but we have a theory about people who dislike chocolate… they don’t really exist. Those memories of yours must’ve been implanted by aliens.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Yuki paused to hover in front of me. With a straight face they said, “When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”

“I’m pretty sure Sherlock Holmes would’ve considered you impossible.”

They snorted. “Probably.” Then they grabbed a hold of my collar to pull me behind the cake. “Quick, let’s hide. We can jump out and surprise her.”

“You know this may not be…” I paused and instead said, “On second thought, sure, let’s roll with this. I can’t wait to see what happens when we surprise our Fala.”

“Right? It’ll be so much fun!” For a moment, they stilled, even the wings on their back, and a sense of intense concentration emanated from their fairy-like body. “Here we go. Fala’s entry into the dream in T minus ten seconds.” The playfulness returned, and Yuki circled my head with every second counted. They stopped again at “Three” and clasped their hands together at “Two.” “One.”

Fala popped into reality. She took one look at the kalihchi bear and raised a massive earth spear through its center—with such force that it split the cake into a dozen pieces and sent them flying. Yuki, me, the garlands, the punch bowl, and even the walls were all splattered.

Oh, and because the balloons were unknown to her, she sent her obsidian knife through them for good measure. They burst in a series of pop-pop-pops.

Covered in chocolate, I fell over laughing.

Fala slowly got up from her defensive crouch and looked around, finally seeing the sign tacked to the wall. “Oh.”

The table collapsed, spilling the punch onto the floor—a red pool dotted with pieces of chocolate cake. I had to hold my belly; it hurt so much.

Then my beloved began to snicker, and Yuki too, their little body shaking in mirth.

It was the best welcome party ever.

###

That first night—once we’d finished gorging ourselves on cake—we focused on testing Fala’s integration into the dream. How real did the experience seem? Were her senses stable? Could she control the space around her—manipulating it as she willed?

The answers to those questions were fascinating. The dream was as stable as Yuki and I wanted it to be. As long as we didn’t do or create anything too wacky, it seemed like normal life. There was a dulling of the senses, but everything seemed real otherwise.

Interestingly, Fala had access to her authority, talents, and magic. She could not, however, control the space around her like Yuki and I could. Nor could she resist us kicking her out if we wanted. Of course, we let her back in once we tested that possibility.

We needed to be thorough, because of the potential my dreams represented. Not only could they dramatically increase the amount and quality of Fala’s training time, but they could also be used to keep in touch with my family and friends. Not that they would regularly inhabit my dreams, but we could arrange to meet for visits. It was a solution for staying in touch in a way more meaningful than calling on the Yuki phone.

Dream Worker required a more substantive connection to the hidden mind, yet knowing my family, they’d readily agree. The only hesitation would be if severing the connection did any lasting damage, in case my family ever asked for that option. The plan was for Fala and Yuki to try it in a couple of days.

###

The next morning, I woke up to a face full of Snow. The blynx had missed last night’s festivities in order to check in on all the village’s kittens—going from longhouse to longhouse to make sure none of the children were sick or had gone missing.

Now, her weight was on my chest, and I noted with amusement that she’d acquired three flower crowns and two flower necklaces over the course of her evening tour.

‘Good-back-home,’ she sent.

I agreed with a smile and scratched vigorously behind her ears.

‘Good-good,’ she sent, leaning into my fingers. ‘Going stinky place; help kittens.’

Okay, then let them know I’m awake and getting ready to go, I thought.

Snow growled then, her mood turning, but the reality was that she was too recognizable. Anyone seeing us together would immediately suspect me of being Eight.

I know, I know. My scratches grew stronger. But’s what I have to do.

The blynx didn’t like it, but she understood. Every hunt included elements of danger.

After she left, Fala and the Deer God emerged from their respective elements to eat. Being one with stone or with the herd slowed down biological processes but didn’t stop them completely. The two of them still needed to take care of their bodies’ needs, and they steadily worked their way through a pot of porridge.

I rather enjoyed seeing the Deer God enjoying tomato relish as much as I did. From the side eye he cast my way, though, he might’ve found my amusement annoying. The old man was still coming to grips with the demands of a physical body.

Outside, I heard the villagers out and about, getting on with their days, their voices bright as they walked past. The number one topic of conversation, of course, was the return of the hunters from Old Baxteiyel. Some of the stories about what had happened there had already spread, and the words were colored by admiration, fear, envy, and glee.

More than one person directed their attention to my family’s longhouse and whispered in passing about the disappearances of Eight and Ikfael. They wondered at why our fates were being kept secret.

“We’ll stop by the Glen on our way, right?” Fala signed.

I nodded. “We’ll square things with Heletia, then continue to Malta. Maybe we can even exchange for some guidance or help. She’s got to be feeling grateful after what we’ve done for her.”

Fala shuddered, which triggered the same response in me too. We’d both experienced enough of Amleila’s silverlight to know how horrible the last millennium of slavery had been for both of Heletia’s beloveds. Even the Deer God ducked his head in remembrance.

“I just need to say goodbye, then we can leave.”

“Okay, okay,” Fala signed.

‘The family is on the way,’ Yuki said, ‘but they’ve been pestered by people all morning with questions, so they’ll likely be a while in getting here.’

“How long?” Fala asked.

‘You have time to finish eating,’ Yuki replied.

It turned out to be almost an hour later before my family arrived back home. By then, Fala and the Deer God had eaten their fill and used the portion of the longhouse devoted to the family’s animals to relieve themselves.

I also used the time to pack my stuff. There was a decent chance I wouldn’t be back for months, so anything I couldn’t do without for that long, I stuck in the Hoarder’s Pocket. Now that it was empty of furnishings, we had the space available.

The land told me when my family was nearby. Several of the neighbors were with them, and I thought I might need to camouflage, but Aluk held them off at the gate, just chatting, while the others ducked inside.

Bihei, Aluali, Billisha—all three stopped in their tracks when they saw me ready to go. A moment of silent communication passed between them, and then they closed in for hugs and well wishes. Their smiles came out, at odds with the worry spiraling through the spirits, but I went along with it. I did the exact same thing, after all.

Mumu and the others will protect them, I told myself.

‘And we’ll be here too,’ Yuki said.

For today, the extension they shared between them was in Bihei. Another two sprouted from hands, which I offered to Aluali and Billisha. One I’d been holding for dealing with enemies, and the other was the extra that Yuki had been growing; it was finally ready.

“We can’t,” Billisha said.

“You might need them,” Aluali added.

I pressed my hands forward. “I won’t be able to rest if you don’t take these. The worry will eat at my concentration.”

“That’s not true, and you know it,” Billisha protested.

Aluali nodded seriously. “No one is more focused than you when you’re hunting.”

“Then do it for Yuki’s sake,” I said. “They’ll be lonely without all three of you to chat with.”

Billisha looked at me in disbelief, then sighed in exasperation. “Oh, you’re just so…”

“The word you’re looking for is incorrigible,” I said.

“Yes, that’s it—incorrigible.” For all her protests, though, she still took the offered extension, letting Yuki enter into her meridians.

Aluali did the same and asked, “You said last night that it’ll take only thirteen days to grow a new one?”

‘That’s right,’ Yuki answered. ‘One of the benefits of our new path.’

“And we might have a surprise for you,” I said. “I don’t want to say more, though, until we know for sure it’ll work.”

“You’re not going to try to tame another javelina are you?” Billisha teased.

“A man makes a mistake once…” I fake-complained.

That won a smile from the kids; this was well-worn terrain.

Not Bihei, however. She’d been quiet up to that point, but now she came forward to put her hand on my arm. “In all truth, you’ll try not to do anything foolish?”

“And truthfully, you know I can’t make that promise.” I looked between the three of them, the feeling of me departing settling among us. “But I’ll do my best to be wise about when to be foolish.”

Aluali shook his head. “What does that even mean?”

“Wait until you’re older and have children. You’ll understand then.”

Bihei gave me a subtle nod. She’d understood.

Parents played all kinds of silly games with their children—a fun kind of foolishness. Parents would also risk their lives under impossible odds to keep their children safe, which was a different kind of foolishness.

The concept I’d just expressed was abstract and complex, but Snow got it too. She butted my knee and yowled in response.

And on that note, I knew the time had truly come to leave. There was a task calling to me. Perhaps it might even be an adventure, as grim as it was.

“Wish Aluk farewell for me,” I said, “and I’ll see you all hopefully soon.”

The family closed in for one last hug. Then I camouflaged and slipped out the door and past the nosy neighbors.