***

Daravoi ends up vomiting a few fried bugs, and my own ration is so greasy it gives me stomach ache, but giving him a chance to appreciate true, deep fried Vorokan cuisine still counts as a good deed. I’m sure of it.

We rent the cheapest room we could find, since we’ve no idea how long our money could last. For a handful of credits, we get two bunks in a hostel dorm full of drunk teenagers. They’re closed on both sides and stacked one atop the others, you basically have to crawl into your bed and hope you won’t die of claustrophobia.

From the bunk next to mine, Daravoi starts snoring seconds after laying on the mattress.

I should sleep just as easily – today I walked more than I ever did in the last nineteen years, and still feel the strange, bone-deep exhaustion of using too much magic. But I can’t.

I was in a strangely good mood, on the way back from the market, despite narrowly avoiding being handed to ThauCon at gunpoint. Before this week, I’d never even seen a gun, or a knife used as a weapon – those things happen in sims and comics. And now, in a few days, I’ve had both weapons pointed at me.

Shouldn’t I be more scared? I remember those moments - the gang threatening us, the bounty hunter holding the silver knife - with crystal clarity, and I remember I was scared, both times.

But indecision, more than fear, paralyzed me with the gang. This time, I Lied all too easily, even if I risked my life and Dara's. But I don’t even feel shaken. Is this some kind of weird reaction to shock?

Or am I brave? I’d never have guessed that. I never showed any particular qualities, but if I turned out to have any, I’d have guessed something like good at riverland interpretative dances or world champion at awkward staring. Definitely not bravery.

No, it can't be that. Maybe it’s something like… I really like this new life. The mystery, the uncertainty. Yeah, being stabbed sucks. But I was looking for a forbidden book. And for once in my life, I came out on top, without my siblings swooping in to save my ass.

Am I being an entitled rich kid with no sense of reality? Possibly. But I’ve seen the Else, I know reality isn’t as straightforward a concept as most people believe.

Maybe Ikejon the Unmaker knew there was a great risk, when she opened the doors of Selenopolis. But she didn’t care - not that she could die, nor that she could break the sky and ruin the world, because she was too curious to see what was on the other side.

I drift to sleep thinking about the Moon.

In my dream, it’s still there, a scythe of perfect blue against the dark sky. The crack is like a flower, blossoming in the vastness of space.

I’m standing on a shore of black sand, and in front of me is a vast blue ocean. It’s night, but the water glows from within, the same blue as the moon, the same blue as the Else.

I take off my shoes, the black sand is smooth and cold under my feet. I walk to the water…

“I’m not sure you should,” a voice says.

“It’s my dream,” I answer, “I’ll do whatever I feel like doing, thank you very much.”

“Are you often aware you are in a dream?” The person asks, amused.

I take a step forward, and let the water touch my feet. It isn’t cold, it isn’t even wet - it’s warm and exhilarating, and…

…and I never had lucid dreams. I tried to have them for ages, but it never worked. What is happening?

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

I turn to see who’s speaking. A young woman is sitting cross-legged next to me. She’s quite striking – black skin, blond braids, tall and imposing, dressed all in black. Her eyes glow with golden light, so strong I can’t see her pupils. She has glowing, golden tattoos on her face. They’re not normal tattoos - one says mage, but it’s beautifully drawn, not like those ugly marks ThauCon gives to the rogues they catch. The other, I’ve never seen, and it’s hard to read the ornate script - it might be… Telepath?

“Is this real?” I ask her. “Where… where are we?”

I should probably be scared. But what’s the point? This is a dream. And I’m safe, near the ocean.

“Real?” She laughs a cold, long laugh. Her hand reaches to pluck the moon from the sky, and she pins it to her earlobe.

“This is a dream,” she says, “one you usually don’t remember, I assume. But you’re dreaming of the Else, which is very real. Be careful. You wouldn’t want to dive in too deep. There are things inside the water.”

It sounds perfectly reasonable, so I nod, and move back to sit next to her

“Who are you? How are you here?” I ask, my eyes fixed on the bright blue waves.

“My name is Iketek,” she says, “and I’ve been looking for you for a while.”

She speaks slowly, in a way that makes me think of refined. She must be from Landfall, or at least must have she studied there.

“A lot of people are looking for me,” I say. “Well, mostly my moms. Maybe. And ThauCon, definitely.”

“ThauCon can't find their own ass using both hands,” the woman says.

The mild profanity is funny in her tone, she sounds as serious as a professor reading ancient poetry. “But you are remarkably easy to find,” she goes on. “You have substantial magical power, and not much subtlety.”

I frown. “Did you come to my dream to insult me?” It’s hard to remember the waking world, it’s like a faded memory, but I feel there’s something important I should consider. Something bad happened today.

Not that it would matter, if I just jumped into the blue water and swam.

“I’m here to make you an offer,” the woman says, “because I need a Liar, one new to the game. And you need a book.”

A book. The book of magic, the Art of the Veil.

“Wait, how do you know?” I ask.

She quirks her lips in a knowing smile.“As I said, this isn’t the first time we talk in your dreams,Today you’re more coherent than usual, though. Enjoy it while you can. Lucid dreaming is a side-effect of magic, at first. But soon, you’ll dream only of the Else.”

She sounds regretful.

“Can you give me the book?” I ask.

She considers my words. “If that’s really what you want, I know someone who can. And we can come to… an arrangement. But we should discuss this in the waking world.”

She glances at the sea, and sounds nervous. The glowing blue water is stirring, as if the wind was changing, but there’s no wind at all.

I try to remember what happened today, and the sand becomes colder under my feet. The cliffs along the sea look more and more like knives.

Today… there was a trap. Is this another one?

“How can I trust you?” I ask. “What if you want to sell us to ThauCon?”

She laughs.

“I am a mage. But it’s good that you’re suspicious. It might help you survive in this line of work. We shall meet in a public place, one where it’s easy to get lost in the crowd and escape, and I wouldn’t dare use my own powers too openly.”

“The University?” I suggest.

She cocks her head. “An unusual choice. But I would suggest a night club instead. My favorite one is called The Moonbreaker. It’s fitting.”

Taller and taller waves break against the shore. The not-water washes over my feet and ankles. It tingles on my skin, but where it touches my jeans, they turn to ash.

“The Moonbreaker? It… kind of sounds like a bad omen?”

“Superstition won’t serve you,” the woman says, still looking at the water. “Also, I should really go now. At what time shall we meet?”

“What’s happening?” I ask, nodding at the taller and taller waves.

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” she answers. “What time tomorrow?”

“Midnight? How will I find you?” I ask.

“Midnight is good. I’ll find you,” she says, curt. “Now for your own good, wake up.”

I catch a last glimpse of something vast emerging from the waves, water cascading down its sides, before I wake up with a jolt, accidentally kicking the metal partition between bunks and attracting sleepy complaints from all over the room.

After a moment, the complaining subsides, and everything is silent. The dream seems distant, unreal.

I don’t believe even for a second it was just a dream, though.