When I'd regained consciousness, my headache had largely subsided. Neither was I surrounded by twisting trees or ashen earth, instead, the domed roof of a perfectly circular room curved overhead.

A faint, orange incandescence of curious origin filled the room and revealed two figures sitting on worn cushions.

One of them was the shape from the clearing. Despite an unnerving shimmering presence that surrounded the outline of his body, in the light, he looked like any one of those quiet older men. The type whose age you can never quite be sure of. They might run a quaint little inn at the edge of a quaint little town in the heart of a quaint little province.

The other figure appeared to be a young woman. Or a girl. I couldn't quite make out the details of her face behind the cloud-like puffs of wool filling her hood. Similarly oversized sleeves obscured her hands, despite the relative warmth of the indoors.

In front of her, sunken into the loose dirt of a soot-filled central hearth long since lit, was a massive and elegant pair of shears, unlike any I'd seen before. Some metalworking genius must have forged them, the bows alone were more complex than a master artisan's magnum opus. They leaned towards the girl, as if attracted to her by some mysterious force. Taller than her even at their slanted angle. How do you even lift those things?

"So, what else ya got?" she asked, staring right at me. The man, with his long legs folded intricately amongst one another, flourished his hand. Even though he hadn't touched her, the girl recoiled. "Ow! What's your problem? I didn't even—"

"You know very well what you've done, Keeper." The figure sighed and leaned heavily on his arm, straining to stand.

After a couple of awkwardly failed attempts, he muttered the word "Organize." An inexplicable wavering in the air surrounded him, like confused ripples through a pond or the horizon in the heat of a high sun. Then, the sleeping room stirred awake. A strong breeze tussled my hair and forced my eyes to squint. When I opened them, the man was standing tall.

"You could at least warn me!" Keeper chided. The hood had fallen off her head, revealing an innocent face, like that of a royal city girl, not at all what I'd expected. She pulled the hood back over her dark hair.

"At the very least, you would do well to recount us the final details of your journey here," the man said.

I stood to his height, though I still had to look up to meet his eye, and a dull flame in my gut decided it was time to speak. "Do you think it amusing to demand details of me? Why not tell me where I am? How far out from Trufflemill have you taken me? What time is it? I have a caravan to catch at sunrise—"

"Rest assured. I will satisfy the questions that your recollection cannot. You'd be surprised at the answers sleeping within you." The man gave a grim grin.

I was not entirely convinced, but reluctantly, I tried to remember.

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In a mostly barren void, two beings argued in front of me.

"It's just another troublemaker."

"I'm telling you, this one is different! How about this Dream Eater fellow? Most feared being in its realm, an unparalleled beast of ravenous ferocity, the one who devours any that dare plant their feet along its path."

"Too kitschy."

"Oh, come off it! We've gotten replacement requests from this one for aeons!"

"Eons."

"Shut up, would you? Why don't you ever like my ideas? It always has to be Steven's idea! Always Steven's!"

"Uhm, hello?" I interjected.

Both of the bright, glowing blobs turned in my direction. Their eyes shone even brighter, forcing me to look away as if I'd stared directly into four suns. They sat on metallic barstools placed at opposite ends of a wide rectangular counter made of glossy stone.

"See? Troublemaker," Steven said.

"But that's exactly what we want! If you let me have this one, I promise I'll give you the next one."

Steven paused for a moment, his foot started to tap against the floor. "We should really just let him die."

"Die?" I asked with a concerned wobble to the word. "What's going on? What's happening to me?"

Both blobs faced me again. "Heaven almighty. Harry, the boy can hear us."

Harry gave off a delighted bellow of a laugh. "I knew this one was special! Steven, listen. I'll give you the next ten. Give him another chance, would you?"

The realization that my very own life was the topic of debate sent a chill down my spine. As if my worth as a human being were of no more importance than idle tavern gossip or streetside pleasantries. Without thinking, I blurted out, "Harry's right!"

Both blobs gasped, their vague suggestions of hands came to cover the spot where a mouth would've been. Steven shook his head gently. "Have you ever heard one give an opinion?"

"No, but I'm right jealous of the muppet who thought it up."

Steven suddenly leaned his forehead against both hands. "I'm gonna need more than ten."

"I'll give you the next fifteen, easy," Harry said.

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"I'm worth more than fifteen," I added.

Both of them paused simultaneously, long enough for the creep of doubt to settle in. Then, they burst out laughing. "Who the hell is this kid?"

"I'll do twenty-five if you'll take it," Harry said.

Steven nodded, reaching his hand over to shake. Harry roughly slapped Steven's palm and a high-pitched pang sounded out into the white void. A low rumble grew as the humanoid blobs shook hands.

"Right, what's his name?" Harry asked.

Steven looked into the sky. "Ferrowill. It'll be Dream Eater soon enough though."

"Oh, I quite like that. Well then Ferrowill, don't go and disappoint me now." The low rumble built louder, and soon Harry was yelling. "You're getting a second chance here! Make the best of it! And have fun this time, will you? Everyone likes fun!"

My entire being was shaking by this point, thrown around so roughly that I lost sight of the two figures. And then, through the blinding white of the void, I passed out.

Much later, I awoke in a forest, surrounded only by the thick twisting of unfamiliar oak trees.

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"Haven't heard of those two before. Keeper?"

"Nope."

The long-legged man nodded once and scratched the light gray stubble on his chin. "Add them to the books."

Keeper quietly slipped behind me, the one section of wall I hadn't gotten a look at while recounting my memories. There, a beautifully woodworked bookshelf followed the curve of the room. The intricate designs suggested vines, branches and meandering rivers all at once. When taken at a glance, the repeating pattern feigned motion, likely an illusion of the eye.

The girl blocked my view, stretching for a book on the top shelf.

"Those two… things. What were they?" I asked.

"Gods. Or something of the sort. What's more important is they've given you a second chance. So, we've plenty of things to get sorted before I'm out of time." He said the last part so casually I assumed it wasn't serious.

"A second chance… Is that why I'm here?"

The man brought a finger to the air. He looked to Keeper, who had returned to her spot with a book on her lap and a quill in her fingers. She only shrugged.

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter, I have a caravan to catch," I said. "Which way to town?"

Keeper let out a simple giggle.

The man shot her a dangerous glare and I could swear the faint orange glow of the room had shifted red for a moment. Speaking of, where's the light even coming from?

He slowly returned to me with a painfully obvious fake smile. The kind meant for oneself more than others. "The town is gone. More accurately, you are gone."

"I'm what?" I asked.

"Dead," Keeper called out, still giggling as she scribbled a few notes into the thick tome sitting on her lap.

Dead? My gaze lingered on her penmanship. The large sleeves barely slowed her movement. Every couple of strokes she would lift the quill into the air and flick it gently, then return it to the page. The sound of the brittle nib scraping against the paper kept the silence at bay. Occasionally, Keeper would bring the quill to the inkwell at her side, careful not to tip it with her sleeve. Her expertise was unmistakable. Briefly, I entertained the idea that she'd filled each of the books on the shelf by herself. Dead…

"You're not exactly dead," the man finally spoke. He had turned around, now facing the window. "You're here."

"…Where's here?" My breathing stopped, terrified of the answer.

"The Realm of Dreams, a world so inexplicably tied to your own that you may as well have never left," he said with an air of melancholy. "Specifically, you're sitting in Keeper's home."

"So basically," Keeper added, "you're dead."

"That's impossible," I said, grasping at logical straws in the back of my mind. "The fall—it… it wouldn't have killed me from that height."

"Ah yes, a pity you broke my chest," he said. "Keeper, would you get Maker to craft me another? He still owes me a favor."

"I don't understand…" Dead? I can't be dead. I still need to find the treasure, I need to prove I wasn't a waste of time, I need to—

"And I don't quite care," the man said, adding a threatening quality to his words. "You owe me a favor and we've had enough of a delay as it is." The air in the room stirred. "Keeper, write this down."

Without complaint, the girl flipped to the middle of her book and ripped a page cleanly from its binding.

He cleared his throat. "There comes a time in our lives when we must confront great challenges, take great risks, and perform great feats. We must all accept when our time comes and we must all take up the mantle of responsibility. Some countless millennia ago, it came to be my time. Now it is yours. You have been chosen by The Outer Beings as my successor. In time, you will not only take up my duties, but my very essence. In time, you will have walked all of my steps and more. In time, you will live on as me, and I will live on as you."

The room began to shake. "Young Ferrowill. I am known by many names. The One Who Lives in Darkness, The Unseen, The Unyielding…" A book from the shelf behind me fell to the floor. I dared not glance away from the man speaking to me, but in the corner of my eye, Keeper had retreated to the wall. "The Devourer of All Things, The Million Eyes, The Amalgam."

The faint shimmer surrounding him intensified. A sheet of reality slowly peeled away. "But those are merely what others call me. I am none of those things. And for one to become me, one must understand what I truly am. I am Fear. I am Death. I am Hunger."

A wild gust of wind rushed against my ears. Dust, loose papers, and entire books spun into the center of the room. The shape of the man standing before me gradually morphed into something else. Matted fur filled the spot where his body had once been, and the unnatural shimmer no longer concealed the hundreds of long, spindly arms coming off his body. They were carefully organized into spirals of open palms. At the center of each hand: the closed slit of an eye. His head no longer rested where it once had, now, above me, the jagged jaws of a vicious creature huffed hot, rancid breaths against my face. I stared at the thing for longer than any being had stared at it before, living or dead. Darkness filled the room, I could only see the creature's dripping fangs and its innumerable unblinking eyes.

"I." The thing grinned. "I am The Dream Eater. You, Young Ferrowill, you are my successor. You are the one who will consume The Nine Ancients of our Realm. Only then will you find me waiting in The Everdark."

Keeper let out a horrified screech, "No!" It grabbed my attention enough for my eyes to catch the large creature's fangs snapping down sharply at her face. The noise boomed so loud that I crumpled to my knees.

"Silence," the creature spoke, and Keeper went stiff. The beast's sharp teeth peeked through its growl, and it turned to face me once again. "I grant you my power. In fleeting contract, show me your worth. The Hearts Of Long Dead Past Reside In Stone. Eat Now And Learn The Path To Seize Thy Throne."

A violent heat engulfed my body until I could no longer keep my eyes open.

Much later, the creature was gone, and Keeper sat by my side, reading.