Chapter 5

The World of My Dreams

There once was a weasel named Urbahn.

Urbahn found himself quite annoyed with Birchtail if only because the other weasel liked talking about himself too much. Birchtail went on and on about the things he was destined to do and the beasts he'd been talking with, but to Urbahn, all it did was serve as ammunition for later. As irritating as Birchtail was, he knew that the weasel talking meant he had gained his trust, which was the most important part.

Urbahn couldn't help but laugh at how easy it was. Dressing up as a monstrous otter only to come rushing in like the dashing and handsome hero he was? Child's play. He was lucky that Birchtail wasn't smart enough to realise the blood on his tunic was actually just water mixed with crushed strawberries. Birchtail really was a shut-in. Then again, Urbahn ignored how close he was to messing up his ambush since he chose to believe that made his character more believable. Note to self: don't make any more plans that rely on fightin'. Ya can't do it.

And of course, Groddil's voice creeped out from the back of his mind to scold him. "You are an actor and a seer. Your strengths are the schemes you concoct and the magic you possess. Why did you almost ruin your plan by choosing to fight?"

Urbahn rolled his eyes. He would've agreed with the fox, but not if he was going to put it like that. I'm fine. I'm still alive, aren't I?

"Not if you keep doing stuff like that. Revenge requires patience."

Urbahn got sick of listening to Groddil and instead chose to get off the floor. Birchtail had laid a blanket on the ground for him to sleep on while he stayed here. Meanwhile, Birchtail himself was still in his cot. At first, Urbahn assumed the other weasel was asleep, but his angry grumblings revealed he was awake. Urbahn rolled on his side and asked, "Are ya alright?"

"No. I don't feel like workin' today." Birchtail hissed and sat up as if someone was pulling on his fur. It didn't take a healer to realise it was because he put pressure on his wounded arm. "But somebeast has to tend ter d'herbs, and that beast gots ter be me."

"Hm. Can ya not take a break fer even a day?"

"No. There's a reason nobeast grows this junk."

"So why do yew?"

"'Cuz I'm better and bandits'll buy it fer quite a bit."

Urbahn chuckled softly. It wasn't that hard to get to know Birchtail. The weasel turned out to be quite talkative after Urbahn saved his hide, even if it was mostly shallow complaining. All it took was to ask a few questions, pretend to be interested in his life, and give many, many compliments. Birchtail desired approval, and Urbahn was surely going to give it. "Ya really put a lot of work into growin' those, huh?"

"Yew know it!" Birchtail grinned and pointed at himself. "There ain't no better beast than I when it comes to these things! If only they didn't take so much work."

"Why don't ya relax tonight, then?" Urbahn motioned to Birchtail's shoulder. "I think ya deserve a break. 'Tis not good if ya keep workin' that arm 'fore 'tis healed."

"I know that," Birchtail grumbled. "But I can't stop wit'out a good reason. If I was meetin' wit' somebeast, then maybe, but now? What if the plants die?"

Then that'd be bad, Urbahn internally admitted. Given its rarity, he needed Birchtail to keep taking care of the sleeping herbs if he wanted to use them later. Still, letting Birchtail work all day would be unfortunate. "Well, how's yer arm?"

Birchtail experimentally rolled his shoulder and instantly winced. "B-bad. Hm… maybe one day wouldn't hurt."

"That's the spirit," Urbahn grinned. "Ya wouldn't happen to have any drinks, wouldja?"

The other weasel laughed dryly. "Ya want me ter drink? I dunno 'bout that, now. Y'know, sometimes I think yer just tryin' ter get a discount outta me."

Urbahn shrugged. He might as well play coy. "So what if I am? Ya have a good thing goin'."

"Not to brag, but I really do. Unluckily fer ye, I don't give discounts."

"Aw darn."

"Anyway," Birchtail lay back down and sighed. "I suppose there're still some stuff I can do wit' one arm, so I'll do that, but afterwards, maybe I'll take a rest."

"Sounds good. In the meantime, I'm gonna do the usual and wait outside to see if my group shows up."

"Alright," Birchtail said with a heavy sigh. "Have fun doin' that while I'm stuck outside." The injured weasel made a show of leaving the house, and once he did, Urbahn leapt off the blanket and took the opportunity to look through his cabinets to see if he had any alcohol. Unfortunately, there was nothing.

"What was your plan there?" Groddil asked in a disembodied voice.

"I was gonna get him drunk off his rocker so he'd spout more 'bout himself. I need to know as much about him as possible."

"All you want for him is to give you information, yes? In that case. There are other ways of doing so if you just look."

"Thanks for the advice," Urbahn grumbled. Still, the fox was right, so he did some thinking. First off, Birchtail liked being by himself. The only reason Urbahn was the exception was that he supposedly saved his life. If the amount of complaining Birchtail did daily was any indication, the weasel wasn't too happy with how his life was going and had even spoken about wanting power. Could he glean any more from that? Urbahn peeked out of the window to see if Birchtail was nearby before rummaging through his belongings. Birchtail didn't keep much with him besides the essentials, and Urbahn couldn't tell if he simply never had a lot or didn't care enough to keep anything. Then again, he must be getting them from somewhere else because Birchtail didn't grow any fruits or vegetables along with those sleeping herbs. He definitely didn't look like a fighter, so maybe he was bartering or buying them from somewhere.

Urbahn sat on the floor as he went over the mental profile he created. This would be good enough, right? Admittedly, the weasel was a tad nervous. "Groddil, are ya certain that this'll work?"

"Do you not trust me?"

"I do."

"Well, you clearly don't if you're questioning my work. I gave you the tools, so it's now up to you if you want to succeed. We are seers, we know more than anyone else about dreams. Just do what you did with the wildcat and you'll be fine. Yes, you don't know as much about the weasel as you did the cat, but you don't need to. You only need to do some of the work. The dreamer's mind will fill in the gaps."

Urbahn scowled and stared at the blanket he spent the night on. "Yer right. 'Tis like a magic trick, ya only need to provide yer audience wit' enough information to make them believe somethin' and misdirect them. Their mind does the rest."

Groddil's growls felt like they shook the room. "That is a horrible metaphor. Do not compare what we do with that childish mockery of our work. Not to mention, it isn't even a good analogy."

"Shut up, it was smart. Besides, I didn't work as a poet, I was an actor."

"Then you should know better than to make dumb comparisons like that."

Urbahn rolled his eyes and sat on Birchtail's bed. Groddil was right, he had everything he needed already. All he needed to do was wait for tonight and the plan would be set. Still, it would be quite helpful if Urbahn found a way to loosen Birchtail's tongue a bit before they went to sleep. The weasel's eyes slowly drifted towards the front door, raising a paw to his chin as he realised he didn't know what exact effects Birchtail's sleeping herbs had. He heard a rumour that he grew sleeping herbs, but nothing more than that. Would they relax Birchtail enough for him to talk, or simply put him to sleep? How do you even use it? "Well, I might as well try it out now if I'm going to be using it later," Urbahn mumbled. He discreetly slid a kitchen knife out of Birchtail's drawer and tucked it in his pockets before heading outside. Urbahn just hoped that Birchtail didn't know how to detect his drugs.

"Y'know what, Urbahn? Yer right. I do deserve a break." Birchtail chuckled as he rested his uninjured arm under his head. "Vulpuz, if only I could stop worryin' 'bout them stupid bloody plants an' just do this all day'."

Urbahn nodded. "Uh-huh." The weasel casually buried his paws in his pockets, fingering the cut-up leaves he stored there. "Whaddya even do when ya get a moment to yerself?"

Birchtail shrugged. "I dunno. Sleep."

"Oh." Urbahn couldn't help but roll his eyes. At least in the caravan, we sang songs. Heck, Pincers did that by himself, and he wasn't even a performer. Gods, I miss his voice. He backed away from Birchtail's bed and turned towards a chipped hanging pot and small fire pit in the corner of the room. "Hey, didja collect any water earlier? I want to boil some roots I foraged while ya was workin'."

Birchtail sat up and scowled. "Hey, if yer gonna use my pot to make food, ye better give me some, too!"

"Fine, I will."

"Good. Anyway, I left a bucket outside. Now, hurry up."

Urbahn bit his tongue and headed out the door. He returned a moment later, struggling to carry a large bucket full of water before setting it down by the fire pit. While Urbahn began preparing their food, Birchtail grumbled and stared at his injured arm. "Ye said ye were a hordebeast, right?"

Urbahn nodded. I said I was in a group, not a horde. Does he really think a horde would search fer one beast like he thinks I claimed? "Aye. Why're ya askin'?"

Birchtail stared listlessly at the ceiling and shook his head. "Nevermind."

Then ya shouldn't've said anythin'. Whatever. At least I know he has more to say. Urbahn tossed some fennel and watercress into the pot before reaching into his pocket and pausing. Hm, I actually do want some food fer myself. I'll put this in later then. After grabbing two bowls, he portioned the food and sprinkled the sleeping herbs into Birchtail's. Urbahn could only hope the dosage would be enough to loosen Birchtail up. He also realised that depending on the potency it could knock Birchtail out cold or outright kill him, but he assumed that wouldn't happen. He didn't put in that much.

Birchtail grabbed the bowl Urbahn passed to him and scowled. "Why didja leave everythin' in the broth?"

"If ya didn't want it in the broth, ya should've made it yerself, this is how I eat," Urbahn grumbled as he took a sip from his bowl. Birchtail frowned and stared at his food, but he evidently didn't feel like getting up to dump his food because he drank from his bowl just like Urbahn did. From there, Urbahn tried to create conversation and ask questions, but Birchtail's answers ranged from being shallow, things Urbahn already knew, or deflection.

Eventually, Urbahn asked too many questions so Birchtail set down his bowl and snapped, "Do ye want somethin'?"

"No, I'm just bored. There're usually a lot more beasts to talk to back at the horde," Urbahn responded smoothly. "It isn't often where I have only one beast to talk to."

Birchtail grunted and went back to his meal. "How can ye stand all those beasts? Yeesh, bein' in a horde sounds annoyin' wit' all the freaks ye gotta deal wit'."

"Ya seemed interested earlier," Urbahn pointed out.

"No, that's different." Birchtail tossed some watercress in his mouth and let out a yawn. "If I had to be one o' the lowly rankin' beasts, I'd kill myself. Wouldn't it be so much better if ye got ter be someone at the top? Ye git ter… order everyone 'round."

Urbahn glanced at Birchtail's meal. "Aye, yer right. It does get annoyin' a lot o' the times."

"Whaddya even do there?"

"Me?" Urbahn chewed silently as he thought of an answer. Birchtail seemed to love having authority, but his cover story meant that Urbahn couldn't say something too important. "I'm a scout. We're not from Mossflower so they sent me and me alone to check it out."

"Neat. Why are they comin' fer ye, then, and not the other way 'round?"

"'Cause that's what we agreed upon," Urbahn answered confidently.

Birchtail nodded lethargically and yawned again, setting his bowl back to the side. "And I bet ye don't have beasts messin' wit' ye all the time, huh? Ye… ye git… respect, huh? Like… just say th'word… and anybeast who screwed wit' ye is gone."

"Oh, definitely. Say, once we get a better idea of Mossflower's area, we might need some o' those herbs ya've been growin'. I could put in a word for ya."

The other weasel mumbled and lay down, pulling a raggedy blanket over his body. "Sounds nice… Vulpuz, I'm tired." A thin smile crossed Urbahn's snout as he watched Birchtail shut his eyes. "Do ye think I could… I could do somethin' like that… eventually?"

"I'd think so."

Birchtail chuckled darkly. "Great… a lotta beasts… I'd git payback on, then… Never gettin' respect… Screw them… Am I right?"

Urbahn smiled. "Definitely." The weasel sat and watched Birchtail until he fell asleep, snoring softly. He waved a paw in front of Birchtail's face just in case before tip-toeing to the blanket on the floor and lying down. Birchtail didn't give him all the information he wanted, but Groddil was right. Birchtail didn't need to. He got a good enough picture of the weasel to give him what he wanted. Birchtail's mind would fill in the gaps. Urbahn chuckled and shut his eyes, following Birchtail like an owl swooping after its prey.

Birchtail awoke with a groan as he rose from a bed of sharp rocks. "Ow, dear Vulpuz," he groaned before jolting upright once he got a look at his surroundings. He was on a hilltop overlooking a massive stone labyrinth going as far as the eye could see. Behind him on the top of the hill stood a fortress towering over the maze. Snow fell from the sky, blanketing everything in a sheet of white. The weasel raised a paw to his sleeveless tunic and realised his arm was fine. In fact, it didn't even hurt. Birchtail turned back to the fortress. His heart pounded like a war drum as if beckoning him to enter. He walked through the snow fluttering down and made his way towards the front entrance, shoving the door aside with his newly-healed arm for the heck of it.

As soon as he saw what was inside, he screamed and backed away. A long, narrow hallway defying the exterior construction appeared before him. The stench of death poured out like a gas, choking his senses and making him double over. "What the hell is this?!" He screamed, staring at the numerous paintings lining the walls. A diagram of the maze was displayed on each, along with a marker at seemingly random points. But what caught Birchtail's attention more were the pictures next to each diagram. Everybeast that hurt him in the past was portrayed brutally murdered in the labyrinth, some by traps and others by some kind of monster, Birchtail was sure. "Dear Vulpuz, I didn't want this!"

"Are you sure about that?" A voice whispered in his ear.

Birchtail swatted the air with a paw and swivelled around. "Who's there?"

"Just somebeast who wants to help."

Birchtail turned to leave, but the door slammed shut behind him. He snarled and ran further down the hallway, intending to make his way up the fortress. "Help my tail! This is what'cha call help?!" The hall ended at a flight of stairs and Birchtail climbed up only to be met with more paintings like before. He tried to ignore them as he rushed through, but he couldn't help but look and recognise some of them.

Everyone from his childhood bullies to the bandits that looked down upon him and even the otter that had attacked him was portrayed, and it slowly dawned on Birchtail just how many paintings there were. There were too many to count, and he remembered all of them like he had met them yesterday.

"Respect and power isn't what you truly want, is it?" The voice whispered condescendingly.

"Shut it!"

"You want them all gone, don't you? You want everyone as far away from you as possible so they can't hurt you."

"What the hell do ye know 'bout me?!" Birchtail ran higher and higher, climbing floor after floor. Strangely, the further he went, the paintings grew more detailed and the deaths depicted were less barbaric until eventually, they stopped being shown altogether. Birchtail reached a set of double doors and hesitated, debating whether it was worth seeing what else this world had in store for him. He turned for just a moment, immediately shivering as darkness flooded the room as if his fears were oozing from the walls. He made eye contact with one of the paintings and darted towards the door, yanking it open and stumbling outside.

From high above, the labyrinth was breathtaking, defending his fortress better than any crappy hut could have. Birchtail leaned against the battlements and looked down at the maze. Even from here, the walls were tall enough to where he couldn't see inside, which meant anybeast inside couldn't see him either. He was alone. No one could get to him.

"Isn't it beautiful up here? A world where you're safe from the outside. No one can hurt you. It's an oasis away from reality. You can still work towards a future where you are respected enough for no one to lay a paw on you, but here, you can live without fear. You can be your true self, unrestrained by the pressures of the outside world."

Birchtail's mouth hung open as he slid a paw across the battlements. This entire world belonged to him? But why? Did he do something to deserve this? More importantly, how did all of those paintings get there? Birchtail drew away from the edge and ran towards the doors leading inside. When he pushed them open, however, the hallway he had seen before had been replaced by a luxurious meeting hall an important fortress would have (albeit with only one seat). He didn't imagine that, did he? Where was this place?

"So, what do you say? Do you accept?"

"Accept what?" Birchtail muttered.

"Do you accept?" The voice repeated sharply.

Birchtail slowly shut the door and clutched his arm with a paw. "I dunno," he answered. "'Tis… nice, but kin I really just stay here? Is this even real?"

"Does it matter? It feels real to you, so is there a difference?"

The weasel stared at the ground and shook his head. This was wrong. This had to be wrong. As wonderful as it sounded, this shouldn't be happening, but despite his hesitations, he already knew his answer.

Urbahn gasped and sputtered as if someone splashed cold water on his face. He rubbed his eyes with his paws and yelped as a sharp pain jolted through his arm. Urbahn froze and raised his paws to his face. Unlike the long-sleeve tunic he had been wearing to bed, his arms were now bare, and even through the dark, he could see the fur colour was different but familiar. He looked down and realised he was sleeping on a bed. Birchtail's bed. A glance at the floor confirmed his suspicions. There he was, still asleep on the blanket. "Hello?" He asked. The voice was not his.

Urbahn grinned and shot out of bed, taking a moment to walk around the house before stopping in front of the weasel sleeping on the floor. "It worked! Groddil, it worked! I can't believe it worked!" Birchtail's annoying laugh filled the air as he swung open the door and darted outside. "Haha… oh, I could do so much wit' this. But first, let's try…" Urbahn bounded towards the field where Birchtail grew the sleeping herbs and pulled a couple out. Just enough so Birchtail wouldn't notice when he woke up. Then, he ran back inside and stuffed them into his bag, wedging it between the various masks he brought. Once all was said and done, he returned to the bed, chuckling like a madman.

Step one was complete. He figured out how to make use of the powers Groddil blessed him with. Now, came the hard part: find and infiltrate Redwall Abbey.