What Frein Really Knows
“If I can find this god, I can be Worldborn. Then maybe, I can be a god and alter my Destiny…”
With every word leaving his lips, Frein felt more and more as though he was deceiving himself. Thoughts of a fool in denial.
“This is why I’m not looking for hope,” he said and desperately pushed away the thought of changing his fate.
“What do you mean?” Elizzel asked, continuously fulfilling her role as his soundboard. He appreciated her efforts, but she sounded increasingly more convincing with every echoing question she asked.
“We can’t tell anybody this, especially not Katherine.”
“Why not?”
“It’s going to distract us.” Frein commanded a blank canvas to paint the entire brainstorming session and their findings so far. “We can look into this on the side, or when we have the time. Clarifying my entire purpose on this world takes priority.”
“If you become Worldborn, that becomes as easy as looking,” Elizzel said, casually waving a hand. “And if you manage to become a god, you won’t die in one year!”
Frein ignored her last sentence. “Rindea did say I can only find it when I can see Destiny. But I was able to do it without being a Worldborn. Only five seconds ahead, but that’s still something to consider. So, maybe both directions lead to the same destination, but looking for a god feels a lot harder than deciphering clues… Unless, you’re that god, or you know where it is?”
“You’re just throwing guesses and praying something sticks at this point.”
Frein shrugged. “Well, that’s the end of that. At the very least, I know where we’re going next.”
“Alphazzel.”
He nodded this time. “If this leads to more clues, we can probably have a clearer vision of what’s up ahead. I’m still hoping it leads to me saving Brymeia, but that pretty much invalidates Schrodie’s cryptic message, unless saving this world makes it so that it ends up affecting other worlds in some form or another.”
“This is so confusing…”
“It is what it is. Nothing much to do on this prospect other than finding more clues from the faunel of History and Disasters—or his handwritten books—as well as get better at looking at Destiny.”
Elizzel seemed bored with how anti-climatic their conclusion was. She tossed around and inspected a pile of paintings, which immediately sparked her curiosity.
“What’s this for?” she asked.
“That’s from Monarch Denis’ declaration. Not sure if you’re up-to-date, but he technically announced some sort of competition for the next ruler of Irista Nation.”
“It won’t be Kristel Irista?”
Frein summoned the frame depicting the rules of the competition. “Nope. Apparently, whoever gets the majority vote from the public gets to win. It’s like an election, back where I came from, except the people here cast their votes whenever they want until the Monarch dies or something.”
“That’s sketchy,” the faunel said, releasing a painting back to the pile.
Frein appreciated how the two of them were of the same wavelength for this topic. “Exactly. I bet there are rules, but the entire premise doesn’t really hold water, especially when Monarch Denis sent his rightful successor to a faraway province right after his declaration.”
“It’s like he doesn’t want her to win.”
“Well, that’s the most obvious conclusion, if you think about it.” When Elizzel just looked at him with a puzzled stare, Frein continued. “If I were to raise my expectations of Monarch Denis, I’d say he’s doing something genius.”
He felt the faunel’s patience fade in an instant and resorted to tug at their Tether to find a clear answer.
“Oh…” she said with a resounding awe.
“You should appreciate subtlety sometimes.”
“I have no patience for that.”
“Well, in any case, don’t go telling anyone that. I have no proof, and we shouldn’t go around giving people false hope, especially if they don’t want it.”
“If you say so.” Elizzel approached with enthused steps. “What else are you thinking about? Don’t you want to integrate with the materials? If you still have the hilt from Nakiri, we can use it as the base.”
“Oh, I’m actually asleep, so this is pretty much the only thing I can do for now,” Frein replied nonchalantly.
The faunel’s face immediately contorted to one of concern. “How long have you been dreaming? We can’t stay this long, or we might end up on her radar.”
“Her, you mean—”
“Norazzel, the faunel of Dreams and—”
“Memories. I know, calm down, Eli. Remember when I asked if all faunels are good?”
“What?”
Frein enjoyed Elizzel’s perplexed face a little more before proceeding to a curtain near the far edge of his Mind Palace. He raised it to reveal a window.
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Outside was a hazy mess of prismatic clouds and translucent grasslands all within the same level. A distant, orange sun kept the atmosphere in perpetual sunset. There were a few tall trees with leaves of wildly varying pastel colors, and a cartoonish river connecting to a waterfall to nowhere.
In front of the window was a pile of gigantic wolves. They huddled together for warmth and each canine was larger than the trees. All dozen of them were asleep.
“Norazzel…” Elizzel breathed with awe. “How?”
“Last night,” Frein explained. “They were exhausted—”
“But she should be hunting down anyone who’s lucid.” Elizzel fought the desire to run out of the Mind Palace. She wanted to hug the dream wolves. The emotion was so powerful that Frein could feel it through their Tether without even trying.
So, he led her outside.
“‘You’re my only safe haven,’ she said,” Frein explained as they walked the winding path towards Norazzel. “So, I allowed them to rest in my dreams. She taught me how to work the Mind Palace in exchange.”
“There’s so few,” Elizzel whispered. “Where’s the rest of them?”
“Probably stalking other dreams, I assume.”
As if on cue, another dream wolf manifested beside them. Elizzel met the newcomer with open arms. The wolf, a creature whose eyes were as large as the faunel of Freedom herself, snuggled up in response.
“Norazzel!” Elizzel exclaimed. “How are you? I missed you so much!”
“Better now thanks to Frein,” the wolf responded. “I missed you too, Elizzel. How are your memories?”
The faunel of Freedom and Consequences shook her head.
“I see. That is a shame, but we all have our commitments.” Norazzel, the faunel of Dreams and Memories, turned to Frein. “Greetings, Visitor. I thank you for allowing my selves this precious respite.”
“It’s no trouble. You can still sleep here even when I’m awake, right?”
“Yes. Now that we’ve made contact, my path to your Dream is established.”
“That’s good to know. So, how many of you are there?” Frein asked, unable to control his curiosity.
Norazzel sighed. “It’s difficult to tell, Visitor. I am many and few at the same time, but never a single entity.”
“What is it that you really do? Sorry. I’m sure you want to sleep right away, I apologize for being blunt.”
The faunel of Dreams sighed deeper. “It’s no trouble. My original task is to monitor the Realm of Dreams. My Destiny is tied to Brymeia, which allows me to traverse her Dream Realm. Back during the time before the Divine Severing, I guided dreamwalkers into The Great Gathering, a place where people from different worlds can speak with each other. Some even use the Dream to speak with their dead.”
“I’m guessing that changed.”
“Yes. Now I’m cursed to defend the Realm of Dreams. Without the gods to provide protection, the Nightmare, the Void, bleeds into the Dream Realm with no rest. It wants full control of Brymeia, even through the Dream. All of me, connected through multitudes of infinite dreams brought upon by the mortals of this world, work tirelessly to fight against it.
“So much so, that other versions of myself drown and succumb into the madness of the Nightmare and lose sight of our purpose. Lost versions of me become feral and chase the closest lucid dream they could find, destroying it in the process. But with your help, Frein Nivan, we are able to rest and heal.”
A dream wolf proceeded to wake, bowed towards them, and disappeared into the Dream. Two wolves replaced it.
“Can you tell me anything about my role as the Visitor?” Frein wasn’t exactly hopeful, but at this point, it felt stupid not to ask.
“I know only the same as you do, Frein. You came here from another world, destined to perish after a year or so.”
“You’ve never met other Visitors in the Dream?”
“Only a few, but I only sleep. They do not bother me, I do not bother them. You’re the only one interested enough to look out your window.”
Frein wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he stored it as a clue anyway. “So, are you the real Norazzel?”
The wolf shook her head. “All of me are real. The Dream makes us real.”
“That’s sort of backwards.”
“Confusing, I know, but our task has very little to do with the Visitor.”
“Except that I somehow help you with it by letting you sleep…wait…” Something clicked. A piece fell in place so well he almost missed it. “Did you say different worlds?”
Elizzel caught his train of thought. “Schrodie’s riddle!”
“Go rest, Nora. We’ll get back to work. Thanks again.”
“No, thank you.” The dream wolf went with the others and promptly fell asleep. She was, indeed, exhausted.
“How is it connected?” Elizzel asked as the two of them briskly walked with a purpose.
“Not exactly sure yet,” Frein admitted. “But this already explains a lot.”
“Enlighten me.”
They both entered his Mind Palace, and Frein immediately commanded an empty canvas to store this crucial memory.
“Nora recovering from the Nightmare influence means I literally have it in me to deal with the Nightmare Lands. But the issue is studying this potential. Dreams are different from reality, even in this case. But the fact that it connects different worlds means Schrodie’s message leads to one more possible conclusion.”
“Which is?”
“You’re really committed to this soundboard job I gave you, huh?”
Elizzel punched him lightly. “Answer!”
“Okay, okay, jeez.” Frein replayed Schrodie’s Recollection one more time, as well as Norazzel’s after the canvas finished painting. Now, the collection involving the definition of a Visitor contained six large paintings and one small frame.
“I think, what I have to do is undo the Divine Severing.”
A great pause descended into the Mind Palace. Paintings halted, and the clattering of frames hushed into silence.
Elizzel looked at him. A trembling fear manifested through their Tether.
“I don’t think you’d want to do that,” she said.
The dream world resumed. The Mind Palace continued with its busy noise. Paintings flew about. And Elizzel collapsed on the ground.
Frein helped the faunel on her feet. “What was that?” he asked.
“It’s the Contradiction,” she answered, breath burdened by the lingering effect of whatever this Contradiction was. “That wasn’t me, I swear.”
Despite the foreboding message, Frein could only smile. He was waiting for this. It didn’t matter what form it took, so long as it didn’t harm anyone.
“This is it,” he said, urging Elizzel to her feet.
“This is what?”
“Remember when we asked, ‘What happens to me, the Visitor, after I die?’” He returned to the towering piles of paintings which represented each book in Brymeia that he had managed to read. Most of them he finished during his training, with only a few—half a tower’s worth—recent additions within his ten days in Brymeia.
“None of these say anything about it,” he continued, gesturing at all of them. “Not a single one. Do you know what’s even more fascinating?”
Elizzel shook her head slowly.
“Not one of them mentioned the Visitor. And yet, almost everyone in Brymeia knows that a Visitor isn’t from this world and is destined to die after one year!”
The faunel’s lips parted in a dumbfounded fashion, and she continued shaking her head in confusion. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s the Divine Severing all over again!” Frein proclaimed. “Names of gods ripped away from historical records, but people collectively remember them as the Forgotten Deities! It’s the same for the Visitors!
“And now,” the Visitor pointed to the bewildered faunel with as much gusto as he could afford. This was his presentation of a lifetime. A revelation backed by all the evidences he had collected. “Even the Contradiction wants to stop me!”
Elizzel’s jaws dropped and her eyes widened. A trembling excitement ran through their Tether.
Frein relaxed, his smile affixed. He felt unnecessarily crazed, high upon the discovery of his conclusion. True, the truth out there might still be completely different from his analysis. But the more he reviewed what he knew, the more solid the conclusion was.
The Visitor’s eyes turned to his Exhibit as he commanded an empty canvas to store his final deductions.
“Let’s clean up,” he said, leaving the Mind Palace to return the paintings to their rightful places. Elizzel followed suit.
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