Chapter 7
Through Sleep
I know it seems far-fetched, even insulting to your intelligence, but there's a simple and highly satisfying explanation. -Yojimbo, Final Fantasy XIV
"Another day, another mission," moaned Margane, rubbing her eyes. She had woken up early in the morning, and had soon gone back to bed, only to be shaken awake by her dear Bodvar. After a brief muzzle-wash she put on her uniform and felt ready for anything, just as she should be.
"What did the Captain tell you to do again?" Bodvar asked, slowly fastening the buttons on his own clothes. "Go to find Daghild at the ninth hour?"
"Half an hour after that, actually." Margane patted her mate on the shoulder. The marteness got a few odd looks from her peers after getting close with another species, but her love life was not part of their business. Besides, the higher-ups would not mind as long as she performed well in her training sessions.
"I probably shouldn't have woken you this early then." The otter scratched the back of his head. "I'm up early just to review my work."
"Healer's exams again?"
Bodvar chuckled. "Yeah. It's not like I have other ones."
"I thought you signed up for something else, like masonry or smithing or something that didn't involve blood and gore."
"I can manage that. An otter who could manage to stay sane with you and Dennol around can manage anything!" Margane hissed playfully as Bodvar chuckled. "It's the ears again! Seasons above, I just love it when you do the ears thing."
"Well, I suppose it's not that hard when you're a marten." Margane folded her ears, then set them back straight. "You otters can't do that."
"I suppose not," said Bodvar. "Not on land, at least - ours can fold under water. Still, large ears cause more drag underneath water, as the flow of fluid cannot be deflected effectively by a non-streamlined head shape. Hence, small ears! That's what the textbooks say, anyway. Do you remember the last time you tried to swim?"
Margane's snout wrinkled. "I thought we agreed not to mention that."
"Oh, whatever. Time for me to leave! Have a good day, dear." Bodvar gave the marteness a little peck on the cheek before hastily gathering his notes together and running out of the doorway.
Margane shook her head. Bodvar was not usually given to hasty action, but failing his examinations once more was like a fate worse than death to him. The marteness picked up her pack, grabbed her canteen, and followed her mate out of the doorway, only to come face to face with an elderly otter. She was wearing her usual blue apron that she was so proud of, and her eyes were afire with vigour even this early in the morning. Dennol, who was at the table next to her, was not so active this early in the day.
"Morning, Margane," said Ma Ankarette, smiling once again. Margane returned the greeting. The otter had been tasked with taking care of Margane and her brother, yet even before then she had raised too many vermin to count, and the odd woodlander as well. Each and every one of her children went their own way once they came of age. All except for her biological son Bodvar, who decided to remain after Ankarette's husband Rutger passed, dragging Margane and Dennol with him. The former had been all too glad to stay, while the latter simply didn't know where to go next.
"Today's supposed to be a big day for both of you, right?" asked the otter.
"I have no idea, mother." Margane often wondered at how Dennol's frown contrasted with Ankarette's smile, and at how her younger brother managed to keep that expression plastered perpetually upon his face. Like Margane, he was in his blue uniform, but unlike her it was unkempt, with his collar crooked and buttons undone. "Captain Urza's quite vague about everything."
Margane suddenly felt the urge to tell Ankarette about the whole 'Taggerung' thing, but a swift glance from Dennol restrained her. The cantankerous old otter did not have to know about prophecies and destinies which could split the world in two. "Yes, she has an inexplicable obsession for complex plans and labyrinthine schemes."
"Well, I'm sure nothing bad can come out of this. The Captain would be more clear if that were the case."
Margane bit into her breakfast - one of Ankarette's signature apple turnovers. Were she less excited, she'd have appreciated the tangy blend of sweetness and sourness, the crunch of the pastry. However, her mind was too occupied at the moment for that.
"I don't think we have enough time for us to finish our meal, Margane," said Dennol. "It's almost time. Going from here to the Castle would take us a bit, right?"
"I suppose it will." Margane sensed Dennol's desire to leave as clearly as smoke from a fire. "We'll come back for supper!"
It was not long until the pair of martens stepped out from their cottage and marched out into the streets of Floret. The streets were starting to fill with the standard fare of merchants and peddlers, and guardsbeasts talked to each other where alleys met. The air was crisp with the morning breeze. Winter's claws had set into Southsward again, but Margane had been through worse. It would be a hard three months, but that was all nature could throw at her.
"I told Kiormund," said Dennol before he bit into what remained of his pastry.
"About what?'
The male took a few seconds to swallow his mouthful before responding. "Told him that the whole 'tying his paws and humiliating him on the streets' thing was your idea."
"You didn't have to do that, you know."
"I didn't have to, but I wanted to," replied Dennol, shooting his sister a sudden sharp smile.
Margane gritted her teeth. "He insulted Bodvar and I. Half-marten, half-otter pups? Typical lordling. They always think they can get away with anything, and this one deserves everything he gets."
Dennol's expression shifted into a glower. "He probably just doesn't understand you two - nobody does, least of all Ma Ankarette. Do you know how hard it is to keep her in the dark?" He turned to Margane, whose ears folded and face softened. "Besides, he's a good pup, with no blood on his paws, not yet, at least. Hellgates, even your precious Bodvar has killed more beasts than him. He deserves to know. He deserves better than our lot. Anybeast deserves better than a soldier."
Knowing she had once more driven her brother into a bad mood, Margane suddenly felt a desire to be somewhere else - anywhere else. She could be in Castle Floret with its majestic halls and its less-than-majestic beasts, where she could remind her brother of his tardiness. She could be in the market with the farmers battling with shouts and cries of who's stall to visit first, picking the best vegetables in anticipation of helping Bodvar prepare tonight's meal. She could be in the tavern she left Kiormund in, having a good time with what few friends she had. Getting drunk early in the morning was not a good idea, but anything would triumph over weathering one of Dennol's icy glares.
In any case, Castle Floret was where they were headed. The stairs leading up to the complex seemed endless from the base, and the great sandstone towers seemed to impale the cloud-filled skies. Margane quickly reminded herself that one of these towers housed Kiormund, and her expression quickly soured. He's young, naive and very unused to the world, and his mood is unlikely to be in the best of places after he realises he just gave himself up to us. Maybe I did treat him too harshly… Seasons Above, how in the world did I make Dennol sound like a reasonable beast?
"Stop! Who goes there?"
Realising that she had reached the top, Margane quickly stopped her musing and her pace ground to a halt. In turn, Dennol just crossed his arms as his glower changed focus from his sister to the hedgehog guarding the gate to Castle Floret. "Dennol and Margane," he said, "The Archivist asked for our presence, though I think we arrived early."
"I'm not so sure Lady Daghild regularly invites vermin here," said the hedgehog's companion, a rather plump squirrel. "Armybeasts like these two should be guarding the borders, not twiddling their thumbclaws asking for important beasts to teach them how to do sums."
"Still, we should probably ask her just in case," replied the hedgehog. "Remember what happened last time, when we kept the vixen at the door and Daghild shouted at us?"
The squirrel's tail suddenly bushed up, and Margane successfully suppressed a grin. "Oh, yes. Who knew it was possible to make molespeech menacing? I will go get her now."
Margane turned to Dennol, who didn't turn back. Evidently, he was lost in thought. He must be quite stressed - Dennol had never been a deep thinker.
Eventually, the squirrel came back out of the castle, accompanied by a middle-aged mole and a younger vixen. Daghild was in her usual white robes, and she had coaxed Urza into wearing something similar.
"Thank you, Hildibrand," said the Archivist. "You've learned well."
Hedgehog and squirrel both hastened the pair of martens across the gates, then immediately shut the gates behind them, leaving the quartet mostly undisturbed in the courtyard.
"Rab Streambattle will be returning today," explained Daghild, waving a paw in the air. "Not the Bellmaker's companion - Lamont's son, and his mother as well. It was supposed to be yesterday, but their homecoming has been delayed by a swollen river. Thus I can't be with you for long, and nor will Rikart."
"So you called us over here for nothing?" asked Dennol, devoid of both expression and respect. "You could have delayed or cancelled our meeting while you were busy with whatever you were planning to do."
"Oh no," replied the mole, waggling a claw as she often did. "Remember Oswin?"
Dennol nodded while Margane turned to Urza. "You told us about him on the Gale."
"Good. I'm sure he is quite anxious to meet you two." Daghild turned to the vixen. "Urza, take them up the Library Tower." She nodded, and proceeded to gesture the siblings towards her.
As Daghild scurried through a narrow doorway and vanished, Margane found herself staring at the walls of the castle. The sandstone walls were infested by portraits of squirrelkings through the centuries, and the beams of light filtering through windows of stained glass were more distracting than illuminating for the marten soldier.
Castles were simply maze-like bowels of stairways and corridors, and every now and then Margane's eyes would float towards one of those stairways, leading to the vixen shaking her tattooed head. "No, this one's headed to a set of guest rooms." "You really want to go up there and pay Kiormund a visit?" "For Vulpuz's sake, we need to be going up, not down!"
But eventually, all three vermin made it past the labyrinth and proceeded to make their way up a flight of stairs, led by Urza with Dennol occupying the rear, sandwiching Margane in between. The whole passage was narrow and dingy, as castle stairways tend to be, with only a few dimly lit candles and slender arrow-slits providing the slightest hint of illumination.
"Burr aye, Urza ol' mate," A mole in a yellow tunic appeared from up the tower and greeted the trio with a wave. "You'm birngen ze two zoldiers up?"
"Yes, Avonne," said Urza. "Enjoy your break today. You earned it after a hard year."
"Oo arr! Rearrangin' all ze books took me awhile, but oi'm glad all ze work's finished! Moi poor back… oh, it could be wurse, roight? Anyway, Zurr Oswin'z thurr, up in the tower."
"Thank you," replied the vixen as she made way for the mole, and the martens followed suit, Margane immediately and Dennol after a second or two.
After the door at the bottom shut, Urza sighed. "You two know Avonne?"
"No," said Margane while Dennol simply shook his head.
"Then you're both lucky," Urza said with a smirk as she pushed the door to the Archivist's Tower open.
"I'd say so." Both martens turned towards the owner of a voice they had never heard before - an otter who looked too young to be there at all. "I am Oswin, and I am so very glad to meet you two - or anyone other than another mole."
"Daghild brought us over to see you," said Dennol, crossing his arms. "I think so, at least. She painted her guest as some sort of nigh-omnipotent Thaumaturge that can cleave through reality itself, not some adolescent who's decided he owns the Library Tower."
"Consider your expectations subverted then, Dennol," said Oswin, shooting Urza a sharp glare. "I see you have failed to tell our guests who I happen to be."
The vixen lifted up three claws one after the other. "Conjurer from another world, teacher of Daghild and I, and perpetually ageless otter."
"Another world?" asked Margane.
"Oh yes, another world." Oswin sprung up from his seat. "If you gaze into the sky at night, with the stars catching your gaze, you would wonder if there could be life, beasts who think like us in the distant heavens. Beasts of steel, beasts of fur, beasts of neither, et cetera."
Margane's whiskers twitched. "Really?"
The otter laughed. "Not likely. There isn't even intelligent life in this world."
Dennol scowled. "Get to the point already, otter. Where exactly are you from?"
"Well," said Oswin, "the first thing you have to know is that 'getting to the point' is the only thing I can not do. The second thing you have to know is that the world you call the real one is but one of many 'real' ones, and each one brings forth its own beasts with their own histories, and I just happen to be one of them. The third, of course, is the matter of the Taggerung."
"We know about that already," interjected Margane, glancing back to where Urza stood and gritting her teeth when she realised the vixen had disappeared.
"Oh good. Saves me the trouble." Oswin took a few steps forward until he stood between the martens. Fumbling around his pockets, his paws found a little golden trinket. "I trust the fox had told you about the Dreamscape as well, right?"
"The world where dreams become reality?" asked Margane.
Dennol gave her a nudge. "It's the manifestation of all dreams which ties together all worlds. Were you paying attention?"
"I don't think I was. Daghild makes the simplest of concepts terrifyingly obtuse."
"Enough, you two," said Oswin. "I do not think you were told one could enter it awake as well - allow me to demonstrate!" He lifted up his trinket and every speck of light around the trio faded into shadows.
Margane suppressed a shiver as she turned his eyes to her unfazed brother. She wondered if he had been to the Dreamscape before, before reminding herself that Dennol's reaction to the Dreamscape wasn't too far from Dennol's reaction to everything else.
"Are all your dreams so unimaginative?" asked Dennol. "Just a black void and nothing more?"
Margane shot her brother a stare. "Dennol, don't be impolite. He knows more than us, especially here in the Dreamscape."
"She's right, you know," said Oswin, turning to Margane. "I can't say I'm a very imaginative otter, to be honest. But you get some credit for calling him out. Here." He tossed the trinket over to the marten, who caught it with her left paw. "I trust you know how to use this."
"Actually, I don't," replied Margane. Oswin's head tilted in Dennol's direction, but she swiftly shook his head.
The otter groaned. "Never heard of an Amplifier before?"
"No," the martens said in unison.
"Ah well. Amplifiers help us access the Dreamscape while we are awake, while also increasing our abilities within it."
"How do we use this… golden thing then?" asked Dennol.
"The first thing you have to know is that it's an astrolabe, not some random pendant my parents gave to me when I was little. The second thing to know is that if you focus through it, you can alter the Dreamscape to fit your perception of it."
Dennol crossed his arms again. "I still don't understand a word of what you're saying."
"Fine…" Oswin shook his head. "I'll get back to you later. Margane, what was your last good dream about?"
"Er, it's all too distant." The marteness rubbed her head. "There was that one time Bodvar took me to Crabspoint after the Great Vermin War back up in Mossflower."
Dennol's ears perked up. "That was the time where you almost drowned in knee-deep water."
"I was panicking! I didn't realise it was that shallow! My life flashed before my eyes and I was praying to Great Seasons about everything! You know, water clings to our fur all the time, and I had no idea what I was doing!" Margane opened her eyes to see Dennol's smirk, but she was rather surprised when she saw Oswin mirror it.
"Alright, alright. Clutch the astrolabe and imagine Crabspoint, but with less drowning. All the good food, good views, good company, et cetera."
Margane took a deep breath and imagined the mullet pie they had in their inn, with Bodvar by her side and her duties nowhere in sight. Then her mind drifted towards warm sands and blue skies, and when her feet felt the former, she opened her eyes to gaze upon the latter. Gulls flapped their wings above, and to the martens' right, waves encroached and receded. Crabspoint was exactly how Margane remembered it.
"Well done!" Oswin clapped his paws. "You're amazing at this! Getting it right the first time's not exactly a common thing, and I am very glad you-"
"What's all this to do with the Taggerung anyway?" asked Margane, realising too late that the otter did not take being interrupted well. "If you don't mind me asking?"
"The first thing you have to know, dear Margane, is that conditions and injuries carry on from the Dreamscape into the real world. If you somehow find yourself falling down a flight of stairs here, you probably would have a sore tail. If you're not dead, that is."
"You can die here?" asked Margane.
Oswin squinted in the same manner Bodvar did when Margane asked him if all otters never touched land. "Yes. The second thing you have to know is that you can enter the dreams of other beasts. Now put two and two together, and try your best to make four."
"We can go into the dreams of other beasts…" said Margane, rubbing her head, "and push them off flights of stairs?"
Dennol, no longer silent, chuckled. "I, for one, believe that there are better ways of killing other beasts than that. Pushing beasts off windows would be a much quicker way to end somebeast."
"Correct." Oswin sat down on the sand, the waters lapping up on his footpaws. "Whoever you want to have some accident, just go into their dreams and bump them off before they do anything stupid, like starting some unecessary war." His expression suddenly turned serious. "Of course, they could defend themselves in their dreams. Steel could spring into their arms the same way fire could spring out. Which is why you two are to learn from me every evening starting tomorrow. I will seek each of you out in your dreams." His head turned to Dennol as his astrolabe materialised in his paw. "Now it is your turn to show me your power. We're going to have a little talk afterwards. Margane, don't wake us up."
Before the marteness could ask what the otter meant, her eyes opened once more. Rubbing them, Margane yawned, and stood up from her seat. She was back in the Archivist Tower, back in Floret, back home. Just next to her were two beasts on a couch. Dennol was lying on a snoring Oswin's shoulder - the two were apparently still in the Dreamscape, discussing weird dreams, strange beasts and whatever interested them at the moment. Or they could just be engaging in some magic-measuring contest. The marten decided not to think too much about it.
Pulling the door open, Margane made her way down the winding staircase. Peering through an arrow-slit, she wondered just how long she had slept - the sun was in an entirely different direction. She smiled. Bodvar would be quite amused by all the talk about the Dreamscape once he was back from studying. As for all her other friends… they did not have to know.
"Taste for luxuries… what was he thinking?"
Margane tensed. That was Kiormund's voice! What could the brat be up to now?
"I know what you meant when you compared the likes of him to my father." Sneaking closer, Margane pushed the door open slowly, and saw Kiormund as expected, but the ferret he was talking to was unknown to her. He was short, as if he was not yet fully grown, and he possessed a blood-red paw with six claws. "The entire reason I came here to the Southern Realms was to see woodlanders kill each other, but somehow I get the feeling that between your uncle and me, he will not be the kinder one."
"He's better than most, Veil," replied Kiormund. "Lamont hasn't actually physically harmed me yet. If I had been captured by the Szailans I'd be happy to have my limbs attached to my body."
"You need to get away from here," said Veil, pacing around the chamber.
"How?"
"Flee in the dark of night! Take the first ship to Salamandastron! Maybe ask your marten friend for help - just get your sorry rudder out of Floret as quickly as possible!"
"You mean Dennol? I doubt he'll be able to help me, he's a soldier, not a guidebook! Besides, I don't think his sister would enjoy my presence."
Margane pushed the door open. "Well, you were right about the last part." The ferret was nowhere to be seen and Kiormund barely managed to stop his tail from twitching. "Did you two not realise I was here? And who was that ferret?"
"I didn't," stammered Kiormund, "and Veil's no business of yours." Before Margane could ask another question he had fled through the halls with his rudder between his legs.
The marteness sighed. A whole new world accessed by sleeping and dreaming. A ferret that can sneak into Castle Floret and disappear. A whiny lordling having actually made a friend. Margane had always known that the world was filled with impossibilities, yet somehow she had been taken aback by the sheer weight of them.
But when the next one came she would be ready.
