“Take it and eat,” the kitica prompted, nudging the fruit with its nose.

Soral took this chance to approach the tree and reached out for the glossy blue orb. The fruit was just as smooth to the touch as it looked, and when he gave it a light tug, it popped right off its stem, juice leaking from the hole it left in the center. It looked like the center had come out, just like a raspberry, but left behind was only a single long spike rather than the seed cluster he had expected.

“Don’t just stare,” the kitica reminded, “Eat it. You will like it.”

That was when the mouthwatering smell hit Soral’s nostrils. At first it smelled like cupcakes, but not just any cupcakes. It somehow had the same taste of victory packed inside that Soral had when he ate his first cupcake after escaping Griff. As he brought the fruit closer to his mouth to take a bite, the smell morphed into a similar but different one.

Unable to resist, Soral took a bite, the juices flowing into his mouth. It was the most incredible thing he had ever tasted, like the best version of his favorite things mixed together in a way that shouldn’t work, but did. The inside of the fruit had soft flesh brimming with clear juice. The flesh was also clear, only reflecting the color of the skin.

“This is amazing,” he told the kitica.

“If you would like something with a more steady flavor, try to think of something specific when you pick the next fruit,” the kitica advised.

Soral quickly finished the first fruit and reached for another, thinking of his wild meat and mushroom stew. It had been a while since he had that. This time, when he took a bite he could almost feel the hot broth warming his throat as he gulped down the juices. This taste was incredible, and while it felt just like that stew, it tasted better than any he had ever made.

After that he chose another fruit, and another, thinking of different things each time. They were all incomparably delicious. There was something else he hadn’t expected. After eating only four fruit total, Soral began to feel full. It was the first time he could ever recall feeling satisfied without a single trace of hunger.

“What is this fruit?” he finally asked the kitica.

The kitica had been watching him from the tree as he ate, seeming to wait for this question. “This is faerutil, a powerful fruit born from the magic of beings such as myself. The fruit carries the most delicious of flavors to every tongue, and is packed full of the nutrients every being needs.”

“Faerutil,” Soral repeated, “If such a thing exists, why doesn’t everyone eat it?”

“Look around my grove. You will find only one tree here. With all of my magic, I only have enough to sustain one tree,” the kitica explained, “You as well, would likely only be able to grow one.”

Soral remembered the incredible power he had felt earlier, and felt an incredible sense of disbelief. That much magic was only enough for one tree? That would make it impossible for any normal person to ever grow one, and anyone who had one would be hesitant to share such a treasure. He felt like he understood now.

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“It’s hard to believe something like this exists,” Soral commented, looking at the fruit dotting the tree like jewels.

The kitica followed his gaze for a moment. “You are not the first to think so. Some have even taken to calling it dream fruit, or the fruit of dreams.”

That name suited the fruit perfectly, seeing how much it resembled the dream realm. He almost said this, but thought better of it. “Can I really grow one?” he asked instead.

“You can,” the kitica confirmed, carefully collecting the spike from the first fruit and giving it to him, “This is its seed.”

Soral turned the odd seed over in his hands. It could pass for a wooden dart, perfectly cylindrical down to the pointed tip, rounding a bit at the part still attached to the stem. He carefully stowed the seed in his pocket.

Luckily, as he had eaten, his magic had stabilized. It was still at a level of power far beyond what he was used to, but all the pain was gone, and it even almost felt comforting. With all of the more pressing concerns out of the way, Soral finally began to wonder where he was and what had happened.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“Somewhere you have yet to exist,” the kitica answered, “In your desperation to reverse your pain, you have reversed time instead and traveled far into the past.”

“The past?” Soral repeated in amazement, “So if I went to places I know, they wouldn’t be there?”

“For most, certainly,” the kitica agreed.

Soral tried to think of a place that might be the same and remembered the castle ruins. It might not be crumbling yet, but it should still be there, right? But should he go? No, first he needed to finish what he came here for, and to do that he needed to know what it was.

“How were you going to help me?” he asked, assuming there would be more help. After all, when the kitica had given him food, it had said ‘first’ implying a second.

“The kitica are the last beings in reality with magic similar to your own,” it replied, “Until you can hear her voice again, I will guide you.”

“And then she will guide me?” Soral guessed, and the kitica nodded in response. He readied himself for whatever training the fox would throw at him.

Rather than the harsh training, the kitica guided him in a sort of meditation, something Soral was far from good at. He needed to remain calm, still, and turn his focus within. It turned out that focus was one thing that Soral majorly lacked. What could potentially have been a simple exercise took many times longer than it should have. Once he finally succeeded, Soral could feel his own magic, but he felt exhausted.

It was more than just the feeling he had, of something brimming within him. He could sense his magic in its entirety. He could feel bits it drifting into the surroundings and empowering the greenery of the grove. Every breath, every thought seemed to regenerate the magic he had released, and it fluctuated with the slightest change of his emotions.

‘You have awakened, my child,’ Insanity told him, now fully recognizable as a voice within his mind.

“I hear her,” Soral told the kitica.

‘Good. Then my job here is done,’ it replied. Its voice also clearly resounded in his mind.

He wasn’t sure how he could tell, but it was good to be able to tell the difference between thoughts and spoken word. It did raise another concern. Where they speaking into his mind or was he hearing their thoughts now?

‘Both,’ Insanity answered. It seemed she could listen in on his thoughts as well.

‘What do I do now?’ Soral thought back as a test.

‘You wished to see the old castle. It is a good place to go. There is one there who can help you find the way back to your time.’

‘Won’t you be upset if I go back?’ Soral asked.

‘I will be eagerly waiting for you there. Reach out for me once you return.’

She would still be there? Then again, Darz was exactly the same as he had been before. Hadn’t he also said he could explain things once Soral awakened. He tentatively tried to reach out.

‘No need to push,’ Darz’s voice assured him, ‘Just like mother, I will always be watching. We exist in a realm beyond reality, so we can wait for you forever.’

We. That meant Insanity must also live somewhere within the dream realm. It was a bit disappointing. Perhaps it was her warm voice or encouragement, but he wanted to meet her. Then again, he did visit the dream realm every time he slept.

Soral put those thoughts aside and decided to visit the castle as recommended. He wondered what kind of being he would be directed to this time. Maybe a unicorn? He heard unicorns went extinct a long time ago but perhaps he was far back enough to meet one.

He opened a portal with far more ease than he ever had before, and stepped out in front of the castle. It wasn’t in good shape, but it still had a shape, so it wasn’t quite as dilapidated as he remembered. It did look abandoned, though. Was he really supposed to meet someone there?

Then he saw it. A gray tower in pristine condition compared to the rest, with a spiral staircase winding around the outside to the balcony above.