A sound penetrates the nothingness of my non-existence, “Void, the Ceaseless Schism.”

I gaze around in the utter black. There’s nothing perceivable anywhere. I’m not suspended in anything, standing on anything, nor am I falling. I simply am. Somehow, even just being am is an affront to this darkness. My eyes droop heavily. Is this eternity? I think, I think I remember having a good life. I remember being scared in the end. I hope I was a good person. If there was anyone I left behind, I hope they’re okay.

An eerie external thought penetrates my mind with a sub-current of laughter, “You’ve left none behind.”

Oh, oh, I guess I was alone at the end, that’s okay then I guess. No one to mourn me is probably for the best. The world goes on, I’m not its center after all.

There’s laughter. What’s so funny? Who’s laughing?

That penetrative sound breaches my lack of non-existence once more, “Void, the Ceaseless Schism.”

Oh, sure, that makes sense. I guess. Pleasure to meet you? Maybe? I guess. I hope I’m not disturbing you.

Displeasure, laced with humor perforates my mindscape from everywhere and nowhere at once, “Oh but you are.”

Oh, oh shoot. Um, how do I stop? I’m just, just kind of existing, and thinking. I don’t know how to stop either of those.

The un-universe smiles as it commands me, “Simply wake up.”

I snort and cough, hacking up blood through a massive mound of sand and dust. There are arms dragging me out from beneath the pile of sand, but none are familiar. One pair of arms are blue and scaly though. That seems familiar somehow. I black out once more, my life force barely clinging to reality.

I’m unmade, and my unmaker remarks, “That didn’t last long.”

Hm? Oh, am I back? I’m sorry. There’s laughter again. I’m, I’m so tired. I. I can. I can barely, barely keep. Keep my eyes. Open. They close and I can’t open them. The back of my eyelids is okay though. Not much different than everything else.

My unmaker gently prods before commanding, “Yes, behind your eyes. Remember them. Eventually. Now. Wake up!”

Urgh, is that a mini luma tulipa in my face? It’s so bright. Wait. That’s not luma tulipa, that’s a cylinder with a lit wick. My eyes shoot wide. Is someone holding a lit stick of dynamite in my face?! I try to thrust my way into alertness and shoot up from my current position, but my limbs aren’t responding. Okay, whew, it’s only a candle. Oh my eyelids. They’re, they’re so heavy. There’s commotion. There’s a lot of fear. There’s a feminine warrior’s voice shouting angrily. She’s. She’s here for someone. I wonder who.

Something or someone pissed her off. I felt her slam her fist into a cavern wall. Everything shuddered. That’s terrifying strength. Wait. Someone. I know someone. A female warrior with terrifying strength? Yes. She rides a horse, and wins tournaments. We spend many a night together between segments. I think I know her name. I slowly blink my overly-swollen eyelids as my head lolls to the side, gazing towards the commotion.

That’s right, that reddish hair, thin on the sides, swept to one side at the top. I know her. I’m safe once more. She and the inn maiden will tend to my wounds. I must have made it back, barely in one piece. My eyes fall heavier and heavier yet again.

How long have I been dead? Did I ever really exist? Who was I? There are figments running rampant in my non-memories, loves, family, lives. It seems so far away, so unreal. Perhaps I never truly existed at all. It seemed like a nice dream though, while it lasted. I can’t recall any names or places, no specifics, but I remember being told I left no one behind. So I must have been alone in the end. Sad ending to a tragic tale that had been laced with hope for a time. I wonder if I’ll stop being am now that the dream is over.

The unmaker, the laughter, the Ceaseless Schism pierces the whole of the non-me, “Really? Just how broken have you been made to be?”

Hm? Oh. That’s right. I don’t exist. I’m not supposed to be am. Should stop thinking. Stop disturbing. There’s laughter from somewhere. I think it’s coming from Void. The Void? Hm, no, just Void.

Annoyance laces the unmaker’s laughter. Its non-presence bears down on my non-existence. The pressure is unbearable, despite having no form, no organs, no senses. Void, the Ceaseless Schism, with a sub-current of tenderness, affection, worry, commands me. They do not want this am for me. They want me to return to the dream, they order, “Leave. Do not make me say it again. Now. Wake up!”

Unable to properly form words momentarily, I ramble as I cough, “Koff, Sel, no, Tay, no, Ter, no, koff, Teuila? Te?”

Someone grabs my hand with both of theirs and nuzzles it as they shout, “Dink! Reggie! You, you look awful.”

Coughing phlegm, and likely blood, I joke, “I probably look better than I feel.”

She playfully taps me in the shoulder, likely afraid to even jokingly slug me at the moment. Just how messed up am I? I can’t see anything, my eyes are both swollen shut. I feel lumpy all over. I can sense the presence of bone fragments floating around near fractures in most of the bones on my body. Oof, including my cranium. Those feel dangerous. I guess I’ll really learn whether or not critterkin healing still works on Rayileklia soon enough. I might need to risk shapeshifting again, just to help set some of the fractures and bone fragments.

I hear a nervous voice, “See? See? The Dippy, Dippy, Dippy saved, I, Dippy that’s me, I saved the squishy one. They saved me back, we, we, we saved, both saved.”

Teuila shouts back, “You saved them with explosives you idiot!”

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The nervous voice sounds pouting, “Did, did, didn’t have much choice. Choices, weren’t, not many choices. Wanted to save squishy not-dwarf. Dippy wanted to save, so Dippy saved, I, me, Dippy, that’s me, I saved the squishy not-dwarf. Letting them die was, was, was not good, not good, not good enough. Zippy agrees.”

Teuila cries in frustration, “Grr, fine, I’m, I’m sorry. You’re right, Dippy. Thank you. Thank you for saving my Dink. I’m sorry for yelling at you. It was very brave. Does Miza have any magic left?”

Another voice, Miza apparently, answers, “Magics, magic, my magic, Miza’s magic, I, I’m Miza, my magic, it’s up, up, up, all used up, up, used up. Miza doesn’t want warrior woman to kill Miza’s clan. Miza’s clan, clan, my clan is good, good, we’re good kobolds. Didn’t know, didn’t know not dwarves. Dwarves gonna, gonna kill us.”

Teuila grumbles, “I know, I know already, you already said it. Just. I don’t know, does Scrap have anything? Even just some cloth? You blew up my backpack. That was some explosion, you had to have atomized my bag, I couldn’t find a trace of it. It was enchanted by Berry and everything.”

For some reason, that’s hilarious to me, but laughing causes my right ribs to dig into my lungs. I end up sputtering blood. Ugh, every freaking time. Woah, unconsciousness is, is a-calling again. But what am I supposed to do with those tossed salads and scrambled eggs? Have a long brain blue screen of death apparently. The words hit my brain like lyrics from a brain-biting song, the kind of catchy tune that cries to be remembered, recalled, ascribed fond memories to.

The presence of memories, of knowledge, it feels weighty somehow, like a pressure crushing my skull. It’s as if memories have mass, and I’m carrying far, far too many. The, the weight of all three worlds. Luni said that once. I had a sword, its density was ridiculous, it snapped my wrist to wield it. The Sword of Memories. Only now can I ascribe it this name. I know not why, for I am yet only part of my whole. I rattle my skull. Who the what now? Some fleeting thought fades. It seemed, something. What? Hm? What was I thinking about? Was it something important? Hm, must not have been. Oh, I’ve been having thoughts in-between moments, just after an unintentional laugh about an exploding bag. The laugh is too much oxygen, stealing my breath away, and I’m passing out once more.

I awaken later to a scaly voice shouting excitedly, “Found, found it, didn’t blow, didn’t blow it up! Big bag, couldn’t, couldn’t get it out, couldn’t move it. Tunnel, hole we didn’t dig, big hole opened up but entrance caved in, both with the boom. Opened and closed at once. Didn’t know it, didn’t dig it. Big bag in there, your bag, warrior woman Tay Oo Ee Lah’s bag. Less mad now, please yes?”

I can feel Teuila rolling her eyes as she explains, “I’ve told you, it’s not tay oo ee lah, it’s Teyhh hwheee lah. Y’know what, never mind, forget about it. I’m sorry for making a fuss over it. Thank you for trying so hard to get my name right. You’re all very sweet, and I’m not mad anymore. Thank you. Thank you for saving Reggie Dippy. We’ll deal with the dwarves like I said, and you’re free to join us as long as you want, for proof or whatever. Just, thank you. I’ll be back in a bit you three, watch over my Dink for me please? Keep Timbik away from Reggie, or I’ll break Timbik’s tail and horns.” Teuila yells out to the hallway, or tunnel perhaps, “I know you’re skulking out there Tim! Miza’s fine! Lay one finger on Reggie and I will break bones you didn’t know you had!” In an instant she returns to calmly asking, “Dippy, can you or Zippy show me this big hole? I’ll fish out my backpack. Even if I have to smash some rock to get at it.”

There’s a round of nervous meeping and gulping from the assembled individuals. I think someone mentioned that they were kobolds at some point? I’m not sure when. My brains feel like mush. Like, as if I’ve actually had someone take a potato masher to the inside of my skull and give my grey-matter a good thwacking. I’m pretty positive I have physical brain damage, and several concussions. I think there were, what was it, rock monsters? Golems or something. I remember my face meeting a wall, repeatedly, with a stony grip about my skull, and torso, both on separate occasions. The fact that a creature had enough time to shift its grip around on me for more pulverizing leverage just, ugh, it sucks. I felt so weak. Wait, brains? Just one brain, right? Ugh, that’s how mushy mine is.

Didn’t I have something like this once before? I barely blink when facing off against calamity-class creatures, but a bunch of rock coming at me causes me to falter. Oh, oh right, the Night of All Burn. Molten rock, sure, but yeah. Vesuviform, and a massive tidal wave of lava that had a mind of its own were two other times when rocks basically won against me. I guess I can add golems, and regular old rock walls to that list now too.

I’m insanely lucky that this Dippy person saved me. I guess that must be the little blue lizard fellow that I knocked over to cover during the explosion. Although, it also sounds like the kobold clan might have been behind the golems to begin with. I’m not sure how I feel about that. But if Teuila was able to gather that much information without killing all of them, and able to make peace with them, then obviously I’ll follow her lead. I prefer peace anyway. It sounds like she even signed us up for a side quest to help them out with some sort of dwarven problem. Our life really is like some sort of story from a videogame or something.

The voice that I believe belongs to Dippy responds to Teuila, “Yes, Zippy, Zippy is, can, is good, can help Tay Oo Ee Lah. Can show, show, show the hole, big hole, can show Tay Oo Ee Lah the big hole. Dippy, Dippy, I, me, I will, will, will stay with, with the squishy not-dwarf. Red Gee. Gonna, gonna stay, we both saved, saved each other, gonna, gonna stay with Red Gee the squishy not-dwarf. Can, can look after. Will look after. Tay Oo Ee Lah can trust Dippy, the Dippy, that’s me, I’m Dippy.”

I can sense Teuila smiling. She bends over and plants a pecked kiss on Dippy’s cranium as she says, “I know I can. I’ll never, ever doubt you. You saved the most important thing in all the worlds to me. Thank you Dippy. I’ll be right back. Hey Zippy, you understand us right? Dippy said you’d show me the hole, are you cool with that? I know you can’t speak and all, but you zip around when addressed and stuff. I’ve never seen such a cute little rock drake before, like some kind of faerie dragon. Yeah that’s you, you’re a cutie patootie Zippy, come on, let’s go. Back in a jiff.”

As Teuila scampers away, following some fast-flitting winged creature, Zippy apparently, I realize there are tears streaming down my cheeks. Dippy freaks out when noticing them, “The, the, squishy not-dwarf, Miza, Miza, Red Gee is, is, leaking, cries, tears. Is, is that normal? Is, are the Red Gee dying again? Are you dying Red Gee? Please don’t be, don’t, don’t be dying. We saved, both saved.”

Miza responds before I get a chance, “Dippy, the Dippy, you, I, Miza says, I say, you can calm down. The Red Gee is, is, is, healing. No more fear, wounds all closed.”

Dippy argues, “But, but, but, Miza, the healer, you, you said, you said the Red Gee needed fluids, needed all the fluids, bad, bad, badly. Dippy, I, the Dippy, that’s me, I, I gave blood, give blood, can give, will give more. Does the Red Gee need more fluids?”

Miza approaches, and gently spins Dippy about by the shoulders to face her. She then lightly headbutts Dippy as she rests her forehead on his, “Dippy has done enough for, for, for the squishy not-dwarf, for the Red Gee to survive. The Red Gee cries, touched by you, the bravest amongst us, and their love, the Tay Oo Ee Lah warrior woman. Even even, even Timbik, mate, my mate Timbik must honor you. You have pledged quest, scale, shell, blood and bond. You, Dippy, the, the Dippy, the bravest, are okay. So is the Red Gee.”

Dippy gulps, apparently uncomfortable having earned a new title, the bravest amongst his clan. What a sweet fellow. He lightly headbutts Miza once as he withdraws his forehead, and turns to face me once more. Dippy asks, “Red Gee, are you? Sorry, sorry didn’t, didn’t wait. Was worried, if you couldn’t talk, might be dying.”

I inhale a shuddered, sobbed breath, almost laughing, wishing I had strength in my limbs to wipe my tears. I answer, “Yes, yes Dippy, my new, brave friend, I am.”