The Optimism Trap
"Well, great and mighty Dragonqueen," said Tibbly, the devilish Planeswalker who had just introduced himself. "It seems that something is bothering you. Perhaps I can help?"
He was dressed in a tight black coat, beneath which was an exceptionally high collared white shirt with large lapels. Burning yellow eyes peered out from a sharp, vividly red face. A pair of small horns poked up from his temples, far less impressive than Caprifexia's own majestic set, and he his hair was cut short around the sides, with a flop bit on-top left long and wavy. He also had a sharp black shock of hair on his chin that Einar had tried out but Serana and Lombardia- Lomeria had demanded he shave off because 'it made him look evil.' Caprifexia believed it was called a 'goat-tea' which, confusingly, had nothing to do with hircine-based hot beverages. He also had a long, whippy tail that ended in a sort of weird fork, and was self-evidently inferior to a draconic one.
Caprifexia had sat down in the common room on the demi-plane that she'd heard someone mention was called 'Axgard,' and had been planning to spend the night reading, until the annoying Planeswalker had shown up. There were a few other people around, all local dwarves, drinking from large flagons of ale and tucking into rather greasy looking fare, or else talking in small groups. Why couldn't he go and bother them?
Caprifexia lowered her book slightly and regarded him suspiciously. "Bothering me?"
"I can feel you are in pain, in misery," he said, sitting forward, the firelight from the hearth making shadows dance and writhe across his red face. "Something gnaws at you."
Caprifexia hissed and slammed up her psychic defences. "Telepath," she snarled, smoke wafting from her nostrils. "Stay out of my head!"
"An empath," said Tibbly, raising his red hands placatingly and giving her a wide smile. "And I assure you, your highness – I have no ill intent. I use my powers to help people. Think of me as a kind of roving… therapist." He chuckled darkly. "Yes, just I like that, a therapist. I find people in pain, and… help them with it." His chuckles deepened and turned more and more into a cackle until, if Caprifexia didn't know better, she might have thought him a villain, instead of just a very annoying man.
"I don't need your help," snapped Caprifexia. "I'm a dragon, we don't need help. Or therapists, or therapy! Have you been talking to Lomeria? She can't tell me what to do! I won't be psychoanalysed!"
"No, no, I promise you, I haven't spoken to anyone. I can simply feel your pain," asked Tibbly, giving her a kind smile. "It's OK – you can tell me."
Caprifexia huffed and turned to look into the crackling flames of the large hearth. "It's not any of your business," she said eventually. "But… I am going to die."
"Unlikely," said Tibbly. "Planeswalkers are immortal-"
"I know that, you idiot," she snapped. "I am a dragon as well as a Planeswalker. I'm much smarter than you!"
"Of course, my apologies, Dragonqueen," he said, his smile widening to reveal sharp teeth. "Please, do continue."
"As I was saying," huffed Caprifexia. At least he was polite. "I created a paradox, to kill another Planeswalker – Mirael-"
"Mirael?" said Tibbly, rocking back in slightly his chair. His previous calm and collected body-language shifted, and she saw real fear in his eyes. "You- you killed Mirael!?"
"You knew her?" said Caprifexia.
"Of her, certainly," he said, licking his lips and giving her a hesitant smile. "The most dangerous Planeswalker I have ever heard of, except, perhaps, Bolas…"
He cringed back a little, regarding her with no small degree of appropriate nervousness. Good. Uppity empaths should be wary of dragons. That was the way of things.
"So, ah, you slew Mirael?" he said, his voice still uncertain.
"I already told you that, can't you hear?" said Caprifexia. "Why can't mort- humanoids remember anything!? I'm always having to repeat myself-"
"How?" he asked.
"I created a paradox to do it," explained Caprifexia. "My future self, thousands of years in the future slew her. But I… die doing it. I don't know, Sorbet Melon, the useless-bloodsucker-"
"Bloodsucker? Sorbet Melon?" said Tibbly, giving a strange expression. "Oh, do you mean, perhaps, Sorin Markov?"
"No, I mean Sorbet Melon!" said Caprifexia. "I know what I mean! Don't question me!"
"Ancient vampire, lives on Innistrad?" asked Tibbly.
"Innitgrad," said Caprifexia.
Tibbly snorted. "Yes, Sorbet Melon – I like that, I like that," he said. "My mistake, Dragonqueen. But yes, I agree, Sorbet Melon is indeed a useless bloodsucker. I have had a few… run ins with him."
"Very rude," said Caprifexia. "And mean!"
"Quite!" agreed Tibbly, politely. "Well said, your highness."
"It's nice to know that someone else finally sees it!" she said, revising her opinion of this nice and friendly Planeswalker up a few rungs in her mind. "Anyway, Sorbet Melon said that I would have a choice, either close the loop, go back… or let all my friends die."
"I see…" said Tibbly, stroking his beard. "And was he sure."
"No! He's useless!" said Caprifexia, hanging her head. "He wasn't sure, but I thought- I thought knowing that I had, or might have, a choice might help, but… it hasn't. I still feel…" She gestured vaguely.
"As if there is a great sword hanging over your head?" he said, sitting forward, his eyes gleaming. "Slowly descending, day by day by day. Inexorable? Unavoidable? And like a great, onrushing storm you see your demise approaching. Your chest tightens, your breath comes short, there is no where to run. No where to run."
"Yeah, that," she said, sniffing and wiping some water that had somehow gotten into one of her eyes while talking. Stupid Sorbet Melon, he hadn't helped. Everything was still uncertain, still in flux. She hated it. She hated being torn between not wanting to die and wanting to save her friends.
"Interesting," said Tibbly, steeping his fingers in front of his face. "So, this is the source of the pain and fear I feel? This knowledge of future demise, the indecision, do you, or do you not choose to save your friends? Perhaps even unleash Mirael back on the multiverse where she can destroy more worlds, kill billions more…? What a delicious anguish."
"That is what I said," muttered Caprifexia.
"Well, my your highness," said Tibbly. "I may know something that can help you."
Caprifexia looked up sharply. "What?" she said.
"Oh yes," he said, grinning so wide his face looked like it might split. "This plane, Kaldheim, is quite remarkable – as you may have surmised. Ten demi-planes, all clustered around their great World Tree. I have spent quite some time here, and know of a place – not easy to reach – but where you might find more concrete answers. The frost giants of Surtland have a grasp over the twists of fate greater than any I have ever met in my long, long travels."
"But Planeswalkers are 'para-causal,'" said Caprifexia. "Why would they know anything about us?"
"Because many Planeswalkers have visited this realm over the aeons, and they are consummate researchers," said Tibbly. "I am sure they will know way to maintain the paradox, while also allowing you to survive."
Caprifexia felt a flicker of hope in her heart for the first time since she had defeated Mirael. She could- could she avoid that death? While simultaneously saving Einar and Serana and J'zargo and the rest? Yes. Yes! This was what she had been looking for! Of course, other Planeswalkers, who weren't the useless and idiotic Sorbet Melon, would know more! She was fortunate that she had stumbled across this very nice and respectful devil-man. He even addressed her properly!
"Where is this place?" said Caprifexia, standing up. "'Surtland?'"
"It is a plane of ice and fire, red and blue mana," said Tibbly with a wide smile. "The Vela Heights, specifically. It will take some time to get to, the paths between the realms are rare and difficult to- wait, hold on, where are you going?"
Reality bent and buckled beneath her Spark, and Caprifexia didn't hesitate as she stepped through into the Void, her boots alighted onto the white, glimmering bark of the 'World Tree' a moment later.
The portal snapped shut behind her as she turned and scanned the branches, where the nine other realms of Kaldheim sat, nestled like miniature burning stars in cradles of glittering wood. She saw the white and green orb of Brettygart, or whatever it was called, as well as a realm of black and red, blue and green… ah, there! Red and blue!
She rushed down the branch, and then scrambled up to another, passing by the blue and green star and approaching the blue and red of what must be 'Surtland.' She placed her hand on it, and a portal opened to reveal a spectacular vista of towering mountains, glittering glaciers, smouldering volcanoes, and breathtaking flows of lava.
It was quite possibly the most beautiful place that Caprifexia had ever seen. The lack of lava in most of the places that mortals usually dwelt was a constant source of disappointment. And, while cold wasn't as good as hot, cold meant no bugs.
She stepped through, taking a deep breath of the crisp, slightly sulphurous air. There was a faint breeze, and a few flakes of snow in the air, but the sky was an endless blue expanse, the only shape within it the towering form of the world tree and, high above, whatever sun-like object this weird plane had at the top of the colossal cosmic trunk.
There was a pulse of gold a moment later, and a very surprised looking Tibbly appeared in the snow. He blinked rapidly and turned on the spot once, then twice – almost tripping over his silly dual tails.
"How did you- how did you Planeswalk between the realms?" he asked, making another rotation. "I followed the wake… but how did you do this?"
"I'm a dragon," explained Caprifexia. "I'm amazing."
"I have known dragon Planeswalkers," said Tibbly. "And none possessed such power."
"Well, maybe they're not proper dragons," said Caprifexia, brushing some snow off her cloak. "Do they have four legs?"
"… yes?" said Tibbly.
"Whatever," she said. "Where is this 'Vela Plateau?'"
Tibbly stared at her for several long moments, before looking up and scanning the horizon. "There," he said, pointing with a finger around which a gold ring set with a large ruby sat. "You see the large, flat mountain, with that palace of ice?"
Caprifexia followed his finger, and did indeed see the large, flat mountain that rose above many of the other peaks, and atop which there was a small, jagged outcropping of ice that might have been a 'palace.' It was quite far away, but that wasn't a problem – she could fly.
"Good, thank-you," said Caprifexia, shifting her form and taking on her true, large-ish whelpling guise. "You have been most helpful."
"A- a moment, Dragonqueen!" said Tibbly urgently. "If I could have a moment-"
She ignored him and took to the air, rising into the endless blue sky and streaking forward. She flexed her magic around her as she went, conjuring a tailwind to propel her faster. She didn't have long until Einar or someone else noticed she was missing, and then they'd get all upset, and then they'd make Chandra chase after her and she'd be nagged and nagged and nagged even though she was a dragon and she was responsible and almost three and a half and she could do whatever she wanted!
Whatever nonsense Tibbly had been babbling about vanished beneath her as she soared onward, passing over plunging valleys filled with massive, snow-dusted trees, through which she saw a handful of massive, thatched wooden cabins, steep mountainsides into which immense steps, each as big as houses had been carved, and an immense lake.
Around the body of water were several massive figures with grey, rocky flesh and burning orange eyes, who were casting immense lines from rods that looked to be entire trees into crystal clear waters. Caprifexia spotted a few fish the size of boats swimming in the cool waters, and her mouth watered slightly. It would be tricky to catch someone so large, at least at her current size, but they looked delicious.
It would be a wonderful place to spend time when she was older. One of the problems that Wyrms had was that they were so much more massive than the rest of the world around them. Apparently, she would be larger than any Wyrm before her, perhaps larger even than the ancient Galkarond who her father had triumphed over. And… and maybe she would get even bigger!
Because her fate might not be sealed, nor might she be faced with a terrible, impossible choice! She might be able to overcome the paradox, seal it and move on – both survive and save Nirn. She could grow up with the knowledge that there was no fixed end, that eternity lay within her grasp, related to the decisions that she made and nothing else. All she had to do was find these 'frost giants.'
Tears of joy flowed freely from her eyes, wicked away by the headwind as she let loose a jubilant roar that echoed between the sharp, frosty peaks and down the valleys lined with massive green fir-trees.
She wasn't doomed! She wasn't doomed!
-
A.N.
If you like my writing here, you might also like my fantasy novel, Shattered Moon, that is being updated weekly, or my episodic space-fantasy/horror/doctor-who-esque series, Mishka the Great and Powerful.
You can find both of them to read as a free member on the-website-you-can't-name-on-FFN-that-supports-authors by duckduckgo-ing (or googling, if you're into that), 'Ciaran Tully Fantasy Writer.'