A/N: Finally. Exams and university applications took me a really long time to get the chapter going, but it's finally up!

Alex: You know what, you seem to be getting something right... ^.^

Jared: Thanks for the review! I would have to say that you're right - only so much could happen on a ship. (Too much water, 7.8!) Floret's also been described for the first time, but not necessarily the last. I've yet to talk about the castle and all the other districts... oh, and about Veil? You just typed out a mini-essay about a ghost NOT saying anything. Impressive!

Grey: Colours! Anchoring a character to a single colour might just help with helping the audience see them. Flesh them out, give them the slightest hint of a personality, etc. The half-marten half-otter joke was one of the few I landed over my two-year writing career, so yay, I suppose. Graha will be back. I refuse to kill her offpage, but I think it will be a while before we see her again. As for amateur attempts at foreshadowing... how do you know it isn't some red herring?

Thank you, Airan and Keldor for taking a long and detailed look at this chapter. The first draft wasn't good, but you two made it into something beautiful.


Chapter 4

Significant Figures


Little people? Who decides they're so unimportant? You? -Captain Adelaide Brooke, Doctor Who


It was only natural a storm should strike on the day Lorelei planned to return home.

While the winds were not enough to uproot houses from their foundations or force beasts to flee to higher ground, the torrent howling outside was enough to make even a hardened sailor hesitant to push off from the docks.

And so it was that Lorelei had nothing to do but watch the rainfall through her room's window. The inn she and her companions were staying in was by no means a palace, but it was fit enough for her. It had a warm room and a view, after all. Few inns had the latter. The lutrine princess ordered three rooms for her entourage - one for herself, another for Sigurd, and the last one for the weasels. When Sigurd requested that the elder weasel children move in with him, Lorelei didn't object. Four vermin in the same room would drive all of them mad.

There was a knock on the door, and the otter rushed to open it. It was Sigurd Streambattle, her stepson, soaking wet yet somehow smiling. Strong and brave, Sigurd was the spitting image of his father Erlend, sans the coldness and constant infidelity. If only he had another mother...

"Pardon me, but could I fetch the towels?" asked the otter. "The rain had gotten worse."

Lorelei winced. Sigurd's travelling clothes were throughly drenched, from chaperon to boots. She tossed him a towel, and he started to wipe himself dry.

"Why were you outside?" asked Lorelei, handing him another towel - clearly one wasn't enough. "Did you not see the clouds and the drizzle?" The sound of thunder punctuated her question.

"I went to buy some almond biscuits for the weaselpups," replied Sigurd. "And myself, of course. It was good of the bakers to remain open in this weather."

"And it was foolish of you to go out in this weather!" shouted Lorelei. "We're still travelling incognito, remember? Besides, who knows what sort of illness you could catch here! Would your mother let you wander out into the streets of Kaldos alone?"

Sigurd nodded awkwardly. "She would. Most of the time I go with Sigrun though."

Lorelei groaned, wondering how she ended up as the voice of reason."Look. If you fall ill, get captured, or die, I will be responsible. And if that happens, your parents would never let me hear the end of it! You're their heir to Kaldos, remember?"

"Father's still got Kiormund, remember? He's the whole reason you two are still married."

"And he's going to find some reason to kick him to the side, like he did with me all those seasons ago. Your little brother's going to be made Lord of Helskerland just to get him out of Erlend's fur."

"That sounds like Father." Sigurd shook his head. "How did you know that, by the way? We've been travelling for days, and we've gotten no news from Travrik."

"Ergonomics," replied Lorelei without batting an eye. "None of your business, really." She had to admit that she was quite surprised when her father, Emperor Kiordan, told her the news of her husband's plan in the Dreamscape. At this moment, both of them were likely travelling to Floret to deal with the whole 'Kiormund being gullible enough to be taken to Floret by a literal boatload of beasts he had never met' situation.

Sigurd knew none of this, of course, which was perfectly fine. It was best that he knew as little as possible - who could know what he'd say to his parents?

Lorelei pointed to Sigurd's fur, still dripping-wet. "You probably should get a bath drawn." The younger otter nodded and turned to open the door, but a cough from Lorelei stopped him.

"A word of advice, Sigurd. Sometimes you're far more important to other beasts than you are to yourself." Her lips curled into a bitter smirk. "Learning that took me most of my life."


The morning passed along uneventfully, with Lorelei - after having her own bath - deciding to have lunch with Sigurd and the weasels.

Szaila, being an island nation, was home to a wide selection of seafood, and her cooks had reason to be proud. Fisherbeasts braved the seas at dawn, hauling in fish and molluscs in nets almost about to burst. Some of the sea's treasures fell into the paws of traders from Tarelis and other Imperials (and possibly the odd Southswarder), and the rest filled the bellies of its beasts.

It was obvious that The Oystershell was to receive its share of the plunder, with an employee or two going to the fish-markets every daybreak to service their guests. Lorelei had been to the same inn twice, when she first travelled with her husband and when she last travelled with their son. Corrado didn't like travelling by sea, nor the briny taste of seafood, but his impression of Szaila was improved as soon as he laid eyes upon his bride-to-be.

In any case, Corrado had been more enthusiastic in speech and intimacy to Princess Eliska than Sigurd Streambattle had ever been with his Avelyn. Every time Kalla's pups mentioned her name Sigurd's whiskers would drop, and he would find some excuse to change the conversation.

Kalla herself was struggling too, but with a much more trivial matter. Every time Lorelei looked at her, she would stop slurping her bisque and stare at her like a ferret caught red-pawed stealing, pick up a spoon and attempt to use it. It was understandable - the weaselwife had likely never tasted anything as good in her whole life.

Meanwhile at another table, Sigurd was having a much easier time with the weaselpups. Nadarr, Gulka and Grekkin were all Kalla's, but it was hard to believe that the trio were sired by three different beasts given how similar they looked. Whether this arrangement was a Tarelian mandate or a weasel custom, Lorelei did not know, but she was not in a mood to find out.

"Do the spicy fin' again!" pleaded Grekkin, while Sigurd sipped his shrimp and hotroot soup.

"What do you mean by that?" asked Sigurd, tail suddenly jerking to his side.

"Don't yer remember, eh?" It was Gulka's turn to speak and she displayed a similar lack of tact. "Havin' too much 'otroot and 'oldin' yor breaff and makin' yor face turn red?"

"That only happened once!" the otter responded indignantly.

"And we want ter see it again!" Grekkin and Gulka said together, bright smiles displayed for all to see.

"Alright, alright." Sigurd breathed in deeply before his lips spread apart without warning, his eyes grew to be as big as apples, and his tongue stuck out, earning a laugh from the pups, even Nadarr, who had been silent so far.

"Pups will be pups, hm?" asked Kalla. Lorelei swiftly turned to face the weaselwife, who had just finished her meal. Her fur was a patchwork of brown and white as it had begun to shed uncomfortably, but somehow her brave face remained.

"Yes, I suppose." responded Lorelei. "They don't change much."

"Well, I fink they do. They go from pains in the tail ter blessings from Vulpuz wivin minutes!"

The otter nodded. "I think there's some sort of beauty to it, really." Memories of Corrado struggling to break free from her hugs and Kiormund saying that he never wished to see her again surged into her mind, and she pushed them asie, frowning. "Even if they'll probably hate you for the majority of their lives and all that."

"Well, right, I don't get a problem wiv that. Yer might just 'ave failed ter be a right good muvver." replied Kalla without batting an eye.

Over all her seasons, Lorelei had to deal with many beasts who treated her with flippancy and disrespect. Vatslav Highwind and Bertrada of Lorsa were two of the most prominent examples, but even they knew to only show their scorn behind her back and out of earshot. This vermin, on the other paw clearly did not know how to show a highborn otter the respect she deserved.

"You haven't reached the point when your pups can think for themselves and they start to detach themselves from you," snarled Lorelei. "When Grekkin shouts at you about a beast he loves, when Gulka fails to live up to your expectations, when Nadarr leaves your home never to return, you will know that a mother's pains will last until she is dead." The inn's service continued, with orders being relayed and the cooks working on them. Sigurd and the pups were still laughing and making weird faces. But all Lorelei heard was the swirling of broth as she twirled her spoon through her soup."I appreciate your honesty, but please do not speak of this again," she responded before going back to her meal. Seeing the otter's expression, Kalla decided to keep her mouth shut as well.

A few minutes later, a portly mouse exited the Oystershell's kitchens and strode from table to table, beaming a bright smile as he inquisitively asked each guest 'are you enjoying yourself? Was your fish cooked to your liking? May I bring you some more wine?' and other helpful questions. Eventually his eyes settled on their table with the playing weaselpups, before passing over to Sigurd, Kalla, and finally Lorelei, who seemed to garner some gleam in his eyes. "Hey, I think we've met before!"

Lorelei's spoon clattered on the floor as it fell from her paw and her shoulders stiffened as if the mouse's words were a frigid wind blowing on her naked back. The otter's eyes were wide and her breath was held captive in her throat as she glanced around her, hoping no one had heard the beast's outburst. The weaselpups hardly noticed anything wrong, but Sigurd's eyes were locked on hers. Doing her best to clear the expression from her face, she turned slowly and forced a semblance of a smile to her face. "Met before? Oh no, I'm sorry, I think you've mistaken me for another beast."

"I'm pretty sure we have! Not every Garlescan's got brown fur, and certainly, many are not so short. It has to be you!"

"Now wait a minute-"

"You're clearly Lorelei Skyward! I'm very glad you're back-"

"Enough." The otter shot the mouse a look that would make a flower wilt, forcing her back into her room.

Lorelei then turned to Sigurd. "We need to get away from here."


Sitting in her bed, Lorelei fitted her ring onto a claw. She needed to find her way out of this Seasons-forsaken island, talk to Hirsent, and explain to Sigurd and the weasels why she left them on Szaila, all in that order.

Hirsent had given her the Amplifier, and the otter craved the wolfess's counsel. It had been almost twenty-one seasons since she knew of Conjury, and around a month since they had last met in the flesh. It was rather hard to imagine that Hirsent had only lived for fewer than twenty seasons, but she knew far more than Lorelei, beyond what her father was willing to teach her. Kiordan Skyward was a better ruler than parent, and a better parent than teacher.

Lorelei growled as the ring glowed with Thaumaturgy, but still nothing happened. Apparently Hirsent was busy, but with what? Taking care of Lorelei's mother should not have occupied her at this hour. "Blasted wolf!"

There was a knock on the door of a heavy paw, and Lorelei braced herself for a question from Sigurd Streambattle.

"Come in," Lorelei turned to face Sigurd. "There's a change in plans. Now that everybeast knows where we are-"

"Yeah, I know. The Szailans know where we are and have every reason to nab us."

Lorelei swore under her breath. "Cursed Vashek. That guppy has us right where he wants us! We should leave when we can."

"But I thought King Vatslav was an Imperial prince!" said Sigurd, rubbing the back of his head. "Why do they want to hold us?"

"Yes, but he was neutral when we fought the Ilsadians. Princes are only neutral when they're afraid or they're plotting, and he's no coward."

"So now he's going to take us hostage or worse," said Sigurd. Lorelei nodded.

The otter rubbed her paws together, taking a long look at her ring. It could do much to help with their situation, but she would promised her father to keep her Conjury a secret. On the other paw, they were stranded in Szaila. Sigurd was anything but an outsider, and when was the last time her father followed his own orders, or even advice?

Lorelei sighed, focusing all her attention into her ring. Tapping into Conjury with an Amplifier was like rolling a barrel from one end of a castle to the other - it was simple but tedious, and was not to be rushed. Focusing her will onto the Dreamscape and slowly steering its power into the real world, Lorelei retained enough concentration to drag Sigurd over to her wardrobe. "Wait! What are you-" He could scarcely say another word before Lorelei shoved him into the cabinet, leaping in herself a moment later.

"What did you do?" asked Sigurd, turning his head to face her. "What is this place?"

With a snap of Lorelei's claws, the world lit up, sunlight piercing through glass windows and shining on endless cases of books. Volumes of tomes on medicine, engineering and history came to life like plants did, sprouting from their dark corners. The smell of ink filled the air, carefully diluted with the scent of paper. Its creator smiled to herself as she admired the peace and quiet - an ideal location for the slow and methodical pursuit of knowledge. Hirsent's library was as good an introduction of the Dreamscape as any.

"Welcome to the Dreamscape, Sigurd Streambattle." said Lorelei, half-expecting him to faint.

To Lorelei's surprise, Sigurd managed to stand still, though his mouth was indeed wide open. He then made the mistake of taking a look around the floor on which he stood on, or at least he tried to. It became apparent to him that the floor was nothing more than floating bits of tiling that continually shifted, rearranging itself to always be beneath his footpaws. He took a little step forward, and another slab of porcelain flew out from the void below him to be trodden upon by his footpaw.

That was when his mind took the liberty to break up into a few thousand pieces, each and every one flying off in a different direction. "I think I'm due a proper explanation," he said weakly, his legs finally giving way as he slumped down next to a bookcase.

Here we go again… "The Dreamscape is the manifestation of all dreams. It ties together all worlds, and every time you dream you end up here."

"All worlds?"

"All worlds."

"What exactly do you mean by that? Where are we? And how did you open a door into a dream?"

"All planes of reality, a figment of my imagination given form, and by attuning myself to Conjury and connecting the world of dreams to that of reality." Lorelei paused after seeing another dose of Sigurd's confusion. "I know this is a lot to take in, Sigurd. Hirsent or my father would give a better explanation - well, perhaps not the latter. Just make sure to keep your mouth shut about this."

"I'll try."

"Then all is well." Smiling, Lorelei made her way towards the library gates. "Now, I think we should head off."

"To where?"

"Ruggeru. Then Wossaham, and maybe Kaldos. We'll step through these portals I make and we'll be there like we're just stepping through a door. A month or two's journey by ship and footpaw covered within mere moments." The Conjurer's steps echoed throughout the Dreamscape, but when Lorelei turned her head, she saw Sigurd still in his original position, crossing his paws and refusing to move. "Are you staying here?"

"What about Kalla?" asked the otter. "What about her pups?"

"I don't know if I can hold a Pathway long enough for four beasts to pass through," said Lorelei. "I've previously only done two at a time at most. Besides, they don't really matter. They're just servants. What matters is that you're safe, I'm safe, and we're ready to head back home."

Sigurd hurried to Lorelei's side and grabbed her arm. "Do you know what the Szailans would do to them once they find out we're gone? They'll be asked where we went, and when they can't give an answer-"

"Do you know what they'll do to us?" asked Lorelei, shaking herself free.

"Your father would go back for them!"

"I am not my father. He's a sentimental fool too busy with his adventures to pay attention to his duties, his realm and his child."

"But he's not foolish enough to not know right or wrong." Sigurd crossed his arms. "Look. If you do not intend to take the weasels with us, then I'll simply have to stay with them."

"You're not going back without my permission, Sigurd." Lorelei snarled as she copied his gesture. "You can't open Pathways - you're not a Conjurer!"

"Well, I would simply have to tell every single beast I meet about this place then. I'm sure farmers and merchants would have some sort of use for the Dreamscape. If not, they'd just have to content themselves with gossiping about how you are some sort of demon who preys on little children by giving them nightmares. That should entertain them."

A few long seconds passed before Lorelei finally relented and stretched out a paw, bending reality with a flick of her wrist. A Pathway to Kalla's room opened, burning through the air. Lorelei could see the weaselwife standing there, motionless, unable or unwilling to comprehend that a portal to another dimension had sprung up in front of her.

"Kalla, get in here!"

"What?"

"No time to explain. Lorelei is some sort of wizard and there are dangerous beasts possibly coming here at this moment and we need to leave. Come with us now if you want to live."

The weaselwife hesitated for a few seconds before breaking into a brisk run and diving into the Dreamscape, her children swiftly following suit.

"What is this place?"

"It's the Dr-"

"A wardrobe," interrupted Lorelei. "A really big wardrobe."

Kalla knew better than to ask. Decades living under the claws of woodlanders had taught her not to ask the wrong questions. However, Grekkin did not. "It doesn't 'ave a look like a wardrobe ter me. More like a window ter somewhere."

"Well, if you're feeling clever, it's the connection between all worlds that you can access with you're dreaming if you're a Thaumaturge with an Amplifier, but being the uneducated brat you are, you probably wouldn't know."

At that same moment, a black mist started to coalesce around the corner of the library. One of the weaselpups pointed at it, and eventually all three of them slunk behind their mother. Fortunately, they had panicked for no reason. A second had scarcely passed when the very familiar face of Hirsent could clearly be seen through the dissipating fog.

The wolfess was in her usual white garb, her Amplifier staff strapped to her back. Her expression was one of annoyance, which swiftly turned into one of surprise when she saw Sigurd, which then transformed into one of downright shock at the sight of the weasels. Taking a deep breath, Hirsent turned to Lorelei. "What are they doing here?"

"It's a very long story that can be told another day." Lorelei shook her head. "Taking them here was our only option."

"I think you are hiding something, but your defence 'can be told another day', as you put it quite nicely." Hirsent walked to Kalla. "You're headed to Wossaham, aren't you?"

The weasel nodded. "We're plannin' ter-" The rest of her sentence was cut off with a gasp and a scream as the wolf opened a Pathway under her, causing her and her pups to plunge back into the world of the waking.

"Hirsent!"

"What?"

"You could've hurt them!"

"Before you ask, they're safe, unscathed, and most importantly, not in Tarelis." The wolfess winked. "I've pulled this off before."

"If you say so," said Lorelei. "I thought you were supposed to be awake?"

"Taking care of your mother turned out to be an exhausting task, so I slept in for the morning." Hirsent's ears folded. "I do not think she would mind." She then turned to Sigurd. "You must be Sigurd Streambattle. I've heard quite a few things about you. I am Hirsent, companion to Emperor Kiordan."

"It's good to make your acquaintance." Sigurd nodded, tail quivering. "Her Highness told me to ask you about the Dreamscape."

"The Dreamscape is the manifestation of all dreams. It ties together all worlds, and every time you dream you end up here."

"That was exactly what she said."

"I apologise. It's the standard introduction. Allow me to elaborate. As a beast dreams, their spirit enters the Dreamscape and their imagination becomes reality until they wake. As you two demonstrated, a waking beast could enter the Dreamscape too, but only with the assistance of Conjury or Sorcery, which are two concepts that would require an hour to explain."

"Er, thank you, Miss Hirsent." The otter scratched his head. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you mean by that, but I am willing to learn more from you."

A cough from Lorelei finally gathered the other two beasts' attention. "Well, I'm glad that's all sorted. We'd better be going to Ruggeru now." She grabbed Sigurd and opened a Pathway.

"Why the rush?" asked the wolfess. "And why were you so desperate to find me earlier?"

"Nothing important. Beasts might be trying to kill us as we speak, but I don't think there's anything else. Except for the fact that I have a lot of questions to ask, of course, but I suppose I could do so somewhere less awkward."

"Well, I'm happy to discuss anything with you, really. Though if you-" Hirsent was interrupted by the sound of the Pathway closing, leaving her all alone in the Dreamscape. She sighed, deciding to prepare for a session of dreamless sleep before Empress Marla needed anything from her again. "Ah, the boundless energy of youth…"