Chapter Forty - A Visitor
Dreamer was just minding her business one day--she was practising drawing with Pam, who was infuriatingly better than her--when she felt someone coming close.
Not in the cafe. There was just the usual slow trickle of clients in and out. Locals that knew that Abigail made the very best coffee and cakes with her fancy machines that made those things for her.
No, the person approaching was far, far outside of the planet, in the empty void of the space between spaces.
She split her attention between drawing within the lines with her wax crayons and inspecting the thing ripping its way through several dimensions on its way closer.
“Oh,” she said as she made out the form of the thing.
It was quite small, all things considered. A lot of not much, packed in tight. It cut through the void like the point of a knife being stabbed into jello (which reminded her, she hadn’t eaten in entire minutes) and raced ever closer.
It wasn’t just a thing though. Things tended to flip and flop about on the other side all the time. Lost items, bits of mortal civilisations that had tried interesting ideas to interesting effect, the long rotted corpses of great beings. Sure, there were usually millenia between the things, but there were lots of them there to bump into.
This thing was more than just a chunk of matter hurtling through nothing. It had purpose. That alone set it apart from a lot of other things.
Dreamer had met a few things like herself. Some had even been stronger than her. What they lacked was a purpose, a thing which they did above all else, and that made them weak, even if they were stronger.
The thing coming closer was still galaxies away, but that wouldn’t last. It would be here soon, dragged ever closer by the purpose that powered it.
She reached out to it.
Before, all of a few months ago, her initial reaction would be to bat the thing aside, or maybe bring it in close for a nibble. Now... now Dreamer was a changed girl.
She hadn’t even been a girl a while ago, so it was a pretty big deal.
“I’ll be back,” Dreamer said as she stood up. She walked over to the counter, squeezed past a client, then grabbed the edge of the counter and pulled her head up so she could see Abigail on the other side.
“Hey Dreamer,” Abigail said. “Did you want a snack?”
Dreamer considered it.
Did she want a snack?
“Yes,” Dreamer said. She did want a snack. “Also, someone’s coming.”
“Okay,” Abigail said. “I’ll take care of these clients and then bring you your snack, okay? Will this person want a snack too?”
Dreamer thought for a moment, then nodded. Probably. Crossing worlds was hungry business.
Now that she’d told Abigail that someone was coming, she returned to her desk and resumed her colouring work. The little two-dimensional Abigail she was drawing didn’t look right. Abigail’s skin wasn’t the right shade, she didn’t have a dress of the same green as the crayons Dreamer had. And all of Abigail’s self was within the lines of her body.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
But Dreamer was clever, and little bits sticking out could easily be turned into combat tentacles.
Speaking of tentacles, she had a few billion of those (Daphne had taught her bigger numbers, which was proving useful when she had to describe how many of something she was doing to someone) spear out across the universe to intercept the thing moving in close.
They didn’t grab it, but shifted their trajectory so that they surrounded it on all sides and kept a close eye on it.
“Hello!” Dreamer said to the thing.
It slowed down.
The thing hesitated, then finally it came to a stop somewhere between Abigail’s world and nowhere in particular. “Hello,” it sent back to her.
Not quite. It wasn’t the word, but more the idea of a greeting. In either case, Dreamer understood what it was trying to say.
“So, what are you doing around here?” Dreamer asked.
“Who are you?” was its reply.
A little bit rude. Abigail had taught her everything she needed to know, and a bunch more, about how to greet people and say hi and be polite. Saying your name was part of that, but usually you said it--or an appropriate nickname--before you asked someone for their name.
Dreamer screeched her name at the thing, which wobbled a bit at the onslaught of information. “But you can call me Dreamer,” she said.
“I am--” and the thing sliced at Dreamer. For a moment she though it was an attack, but no, it just had a weird name. “But you can call me Death.”
“Hi Death.” Dreamer waved some tentacles at it. “What are you doing around here?”
“I’m here to reap the souls of those who have passed,” it said. “Specifically, those from this place.” It sliced a bunch of information at her, which she realized pointed right towards her new home.
“No, I have people I like there. Go do that kind of stuff somewhere else.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Death said.
“I could just eat you,” Dreamer said.
Death considered this. “I still need to visit. Maybe we can come to some sort of compromise.”
“Do you like tea?”
“What?
Dreamer thought for a moment. “Oh, you like coffee better?”
“Are you trying to bribe me with tea and coffee?”
“No, I’m being a good host,” Dreamer said. Was it really so complicated? “If you behave like a good guest, then we can talk over tea and pastries. Pastries are good. They’re like bread, but better.”
“Very well, what is the dress-code for this event?”
Dreamer grinned as she started adding the finishing touches to her drawing. It was looking pretty nice, all things considered. She’d be done just before her guest arrived.
She never had a guest before. She hoped it would be a lot of fun.
And if it wasn’t, more snacks for her!
***