I appear in an unfortunately familiar surroundings of Taz Borhoz. “Great” I think out loud, knowing what fate awaits the phantoms I see in the distance. I know they are just memories, but it doesn’t really help. On the other hand, the Dreamkeeper is nowhere to be seen – so I’m pretty sure that there’s still plenty of time before the sughter begins.

  …at least I hope so.

  To distract myself, I look towards the sea, away from the ancient city. There are two strange wisps of light – but I ignore them. I look past them and – to my surprise – while the waves close-by crash into the nd nicely, further parts look less natural; it seems that water rendering is glitchy even in a magical world of dreams. As stupid as this thought is, it somehow puts me at ease.

  …and the waves; I’ve always loved the waves.

  I sit down, dangling my legs over the cliff. I reminisce about the past few days, scarcely believing how much has happened in my life; it would be no exaggeration to say that were more eventful than my entire past life. I think about all the fascinating people I’ve met, about their culture, about magical creatures I’ve seen, fought and eaten, about various pnts and potions as well as their after-effects, about otherworldly beautiful mountain vistas, about finally having a body that isn’t slowly wasting away, about the feeling of breeze on my skin, about the touch of my lovers, about the adrenaline rush of a good fight, about the pleasure of sex… and my mind constantly returns to the realisation that I am going to become a parent.

  …I have a mixed feelings about this. While I’ve always dreamt of having kids of my own, I’m no longer sure whether it was a genuine desire or just envy towards those who were able to reproduce. More importantly I still haven’t got used to dealing with children! How am I going to perform as their mother – or whatever I’m supposed to be as I’m not the one to give birth to them; can I even call myself a mother in such a case?

  “I see we meet here again, Kora of the Wilds!” A familiar voice startles me, breaking me out of my ruminations; I turn around to see Azrag lo’Hagha vi’Orahg, the Last Dreamkeeper of Taz Borhoz and the leader of Taborites. “You arrived so early! But why were you contempting the sea?” He asks, his smile strangely strained.

  “Well… I’ve been thinking about the craziness of past few days – and the future consequences of my recent actions. But… what about you?” I counter ask him, which visibly surprises him. “I cannot help but notice that something is bothering you; can I help you with anything? Or… is it something about me?” His eyes go wide, briefly, before closing them as the old Troll sighs and then chuckles, sadly.

  “You are so perceptive, young Volkhroda” he sighs again before coming closer and sitting down next to me. I observe his mencholic profile in silence, giving him as much time as he needs. The cries of birds and the crashing of waves put me in a meditative mood, as I wait patiently. The sun shines on his face; it looks… old.

  “I apologise to you, young Kora, for I am indeed upset by your presence here” he finally speaks. “I understand that not only is there no malice in your actions – it’s just” he sighs. “I hoped – in vain, as it is now clear – that you wouldn’t be able to come back to this memory on your own and it would die with me” he shakes his head and sighs once again.

  “I’m sorry” I say and he waves his hand.

  “Don’t be” says Azrag simply. He looks towards the horizon – and I follow his line of sight; there’s nothing significant there, but the tranquil atmosphere slightly dims my feelings of guilt towards the man that has been such a help to me earlier.

  “When I first saw the destruction of our city, my heart got filled with rage and hatred, sorrow and despair” he finally says mencholically. “I was young back then – oh, so very young… older than a kid, yes – but not yet an adult; that time of life where one is the most susceptible to the sway of others – the time of life when one truly builds oneself as a person; and in such a fragile state my heart has been filled with all those feelings towards people, who had been long dead, over the crime they committed so, so long ago” I listen to him attentively, realising that he doesn’t want to just tell me why he is upset – but that he wants me to truly understand.

  “Back then, fifteen centuries ago, we, the ‘true’ Taborites, were different people; we saw ourselves as better those who joined our ranks from bondage or from the natives of Orezemj: we still had our nguage – even if most of it forgotten – we still worshipped our old gods – even if most of them had already slipped into obscurity – and we still had our Memory – and you know how altered it had became” he ughs ironically. “We had yet to realise that we had already became different people than our ancestors” he shakes his head. “And we believed we carried their will… we believed that killing our Dwarven children was just and that one day we would return home, to our isnd, and rebuild our illustrious city… despite the fact that it was already an impossibility.”

  “How come?” I finally interrupt him. “Can’t you do it, like… now?”

  “Ha!” He ughs sardonically. “It is something I thought back then too… until – as I finally

  reached adulthood – I decided to go on a pilgrimage to our isnd; I didn’t know it back then, but it would be the most significant decision of my entire life!” His smiles mellows – and for the first time today there is some genuine warmth to it, as nostalgia overtakes him for a moment; it soon passes, however, yet a trace of it remains. “You see, Kora, at that point, the isnd of Borhoz had been long destroyed!”

  “For real?!” I excim. “How?!”

  “What ended the First Dwarven Crusade was not any action of Mortals – but an act of Nature and Magic itself!” He smiles sardonically. “A few years after the sughter began, a series of catastrophic events – starting with a series of earthquakes and culminating in a devastating Wildmagic hurricane – destroyed much of Dwarven armies and fleets, as well as a number of their settlements, forcing them to sign a peace treaty. And it was that very outbreak of magic that broke apart and sank the isnd where our ancestors lived – soon after they left!” He ughs mockingly. “All the dreams we’ve had, all the hopes – everything was in vain; and our Elders knew it!” The old Troll shakes his head. “It was… devastating – but at the same time, it was liberating; and so I started travelling around the world, allowing me to see and experience many things first-hand. Especially about Dwarves; it turns out that while the Beastkin and Vodyakin are always the most common and varied, it doesn’t mean other Species are uniform in their appearance or ideology.”

  “So you’ve seen many Dwarves?” I ask shyly, still feeling slightly guilty.

  “All of them” Azrag cims with a sliver of pride in his voice. “I saw the Iron Dwarves of Thaluga, generous and helpful people, despite their struggles and squalor under the yoke of Sindramic Church; I saw the Amber Dwarves of Belungdos, faithful subjects of the Dragon Emperor, humble even when holding a high rank; I saw the Ashen and Obsidian Dwarves of Kutembe, mingling freely with various Beastkin and other Barekin of the continent; I saw the Sand Dwarves of Asmmisr, the reclusive desert nomads whose often half-mad sages – like my former teacher, Ihmaz Al-Hammur – are nonetheless rightfully greatly valued by the Priesthood, the Nomaras and the common folk alike; I saw the Sea Dwarves of the Far Southern Archipegos, exiles not unlike my peoples; stly, I saw the accursed Withered Dwarves from the North, still angry, bitter and hatful even after so many centuries of their empire’s fall – empire they want to recim. I finally understood that it is not ‘Dwarves’ that deserve our resentment – but just a specific, tiny and pathetic fraction of maniacs, frantically clinging to vestiges of their former selves” he sighs. “But what was the most devastating to me was that I saw us in them!”

  “What?” I tilt my head as I look at his profile, not understanding what he meant – until it dawns on me! “Wait! You mean that both the… the Withered Dwarves and the Taborites were stubbornly clinging to the past, trying to restore unrestorable?!”

  “Yes” he says simply; it’s obvious that that memory, even after all those years, is still a painful one. “I’d already been familiar with Tin Dwarves of Orezemj and fate their suffered when one was born among my folk” his tone is grave and I remember our st talk.

  “The Dwarven kids would be killed or abandoned a mere few centuries ago” I cite his words, making the old Troll smile slightly. “So how did you convince the other Dreamkeepers to abandon this memory and move on?”

  “With time, patience and determination” the blue man sighs. “But the other Dreamkeepers weren’t the only ones – I would even say it was easier to change their opinion than that of others; the poison of resentment can run deep in the Minds of people – even if its main source has been long gone.”

  “But you did it either way” I smile at him. “That’s a great achievement! I can only imagine how much dedication you’d put into it! So… erm…” My guilt hits me again. “I’m sorry for ruining your pn…!”

  “Once again – don’t!” Azrag interrupts me – this time with a hint irritation in his voice. “I appear here whenever I fall asleep – but you do not! So, as long as you stay away from here when I’m gone, it should fade in due time – why, if you look far at sea, you can see it has started to slowly corrode already, despite me having yet to die!” He points to the horizon.

  “That’s why it looks so weird!” My remark makes him chuckle.

  “Indeed, Kora of the Wilds” it seems his mood has improved as pyful light returns to his eyes. “I’ve heard you will be taught by the Tamarans – so let’s use this tangle of our Fates and your Dreamwalking ability to its fullest extend: travel here every night so we can share knowledge – I of this world, you – of your past one! I have but one request for you – please, avoid bringing other Living Souls with you, won’t you? The Dead Ones – like those two next to you – have always appeared here from time to time and they cannot retain memories of Zawsiety anyway, so I don’t mind them; but let the World forget, I beg of you!”

  “I promise” I agree – but then it strikes me. “What do you mean by the Dead Ones?” I look to the side, at the two wisps of light I noticed earlier. “Are you saying that those are… Souls?!”

  HoraceH.Horney