Kano and Cabbage

　　The Dream rejuvenated Kano`s body. He wasn`t tired anymore, nor hungry or thirsty, despite not having eaten, drank, or really slept. But if he so much as glanced away from his feathered friend, he`d start dissolving in the same instant. He could snap back to Cabbage and retain his form, but the omnipresent allure of the realm kept tugging him, with its waves of indistinct whispers, images in his peripheral vision, delicate scents on the breeze, something slightly brushing his hand&

　　"Fish," he muttered every time some sensory mystery tempted him. "Fish. Fish. Fish&"

　　"Quiet," Cabbage snapped, ears flattening. Kano would be quiet for some time after, keeping his eyes glued to a particular black smudge on the back of Cabbage`s head, but the temptations would come again, and the cycle would repeat.

　　When Kano tried to recall what time may have elapsed, a deep, existential terror engulfed his heart. It must have been decades. Centuries. Was he an old man? He`d check his hands to see if they had wrinkled at all, but he couldn`t quite remember how wrinkly they were at the start. A few deep breaths later, he`d manage to stop thinking about it. But, as with all things in the Dream, it would loop around again, and he`d lose himself in the panic, until he begged himself to stop, until he`d find the black smudge on Cabbage`s head, Fish, Fish, Fish, on, and on, and on&

　　To Cabbage, traversing the Dream was no problem at all, but he`d never brought a flesh-creature with him before. It was proving to be far more of a hassle than he`d bargained for, but at the time, he`d had no choice. After observing the bright pulse of hostility the one called Quan had emitted when Kano had said Cabbage`s name, he feared they might harm Kano, after all. Even if they didn`t harm him physically, they clearly had no intent to release him any time soon. And Pak was traveling farther away. Cabbage was even having trouble hearing him, though he couldn`t be sure if that was because of the distance, or because Pak`s tether to him was coming undone. In either case, he could restore it by crossing the Dream. He just had to lug Kano along.

　　He knew from the start that the Dream would be dangerous for the half-human. He could easily lose his way, and once a flesh-creature lost their way they`d be lost there forever, or so the stories went. Cabbage had never heard a firsthand account of such a thing happening, but flesh-creatures rarely came to the Dream at all, and the Dream had a Will of its own. In fact, it was the essence of all Will in the universe, the place from where all magic originated. That wasn`t to say that the Dream had an agenda. It wasn`t even sentient, at least not in any logical way. It reflected the inner workings of anything immersed in it, changing the landscape in a creature`s path to match the creature`s deepest fears and desires. Dream-creatures were just as reflective, and could easily shape the landscape with their own intent. Flesh-creatures, on the other hand, were so flimsy, so permeable, so easily distracted, they had no hope of crafting their own path. Perhaps they could if they entered the Dream in their own Dream-body, leaving their flesh-body behind, but such a thing was nearly unheard of, except for a few prominent figures who had cemented themselves in the annals of the Dream`s history.

　　Cabbage stopped, no longer sensing the half-human`s eyes on his head. He turned around, and, surely enough, Kano was gone, vanished into the all-seeing sphere of the Dream, probably tumbling through its inclines like a mountain goat that lost its footing on a cliff. He huffed, silently cursing the half-human`s carelessness. How hard was it to follow one simple command?

　　Cabbage gave an annoyed chirp, hopped in place, then flapped his wings and sailed into a Dream-current to search for his lost mortal, mentally preparing an earful for when he found him.

　　*******

　　It seemed that no more than one blink passed, when suddenly, Kano was somewhere else, somewhere familiar. Warm, humid air met his skin and clouded his lungs. Water pooled at his feet, splashing his ankles - his bare ankles, though he could have sworn he had been wearing shoes and socks. The water`s hiss tickled his ears, drowning out anything else. Steam obscured the walls of this room, making the room seem impossibly endless, but he knew where he was. He always loved the showers at the school, especially when the water was hot like this. He used to come here to sing when there were no other students around, and his voice could ring without judgment.

　　He stepped into the water, pausing with an ecstatic hum as it soaked his naked skin. How long had it been since he`d bathed? He looked down, watching the dirt melt away and swirl into the drain, deep brown, falling in clumps. He smiled, relaxing his shoulders for the first time in eons, and dipped his head back to rinse his hair. If only he had a comb, he thought, and some soap - but before the thought could finish, he looked down to find exactly what he`d wanted in his hands. His favorite comb and soap, no less. Of course he brought it with him. He hated getting into the shower, only to realize he`d forgotten what he needed in his room. After the first few times he`d made the short dash to his door in the nude, and the one time he was nearly caught by another student who was sneaking out past curfew, he figured out a routine that kept him from forgetting.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

　　Kano froze, glimpsing something through the fog.

　　He hadn`t thought to check if anyone else was there. Nobody else ever showered late at night like this. They weren`t supposed to. The school had very strict rules about that sort of thing. He only ever did it on the weekend days, when the residential director was out of his office, and nobody else cared enough to check. But that night, Kano wasn`t alone.

　　He recognized the figure instantly by his gray skin and shaggy white hair. He could recognize him at any distance. He was the only gray-and-white smudge of a person Kano had ever seen. Pak was facing the wall, his head bowed, his shoulders slumped, hugging himself& and something dark ran down his body, swirling down the drain. Kano`s heart broke. He remembered this, now. Lines of thick, worm-like scars ran the length of Pak`s thigh. Some came in chaotic clusters, and others were neat and even, meticulously drawn, like tally marks. The oldest, most faded scars were the ones closest to his hip, the start of the gradient of broken skin. The newest ones were still scabbing. The freshest one was still bleeding.

　　When Kano had walked into the shower all those years ago, this was what he saw: the half-Du閚 boy from the courtyard, bleeding and alone. Kano hadn`t asked the residential director to change rooms, yet. He`d thought about it, but he was scared. The boy had nearly killed someone. But Kano had watched the whole thing happen, and Pak obviously didn`t mean to do it - he was attacked first, and he was just defending himself. So when Kano walked in on him in the shower, in this terrible state, after doing such a terrible thing to himself, he knew it was time to change rooms, and not just so the bullies would stop bullying him. He wasn`t going to pretend to be Pak`s friend in order to gain his protection from the bullies. He was going to be his friend. They both clearly needed it.

　　But all those years ago, when Kano had walked in on Pak in the shower, he`d turned away and shut the door before he noticed he was there& but he`d been searching for him for so long now. And he was right there.

　　"Pak," he whispered, fully dressed and soaking wet. The soap and the comb were gone. He hadn`t showered yet. He`d only just opened the door, hadn`t he&?

　　The walls around him wavered, as if melting away, revealing a void, omniscient, endless darkness-

　　Kano blinked, and he was in the shower again, shrouded by the steam. Weird, he thought, but after a moment he couldn`t remember what it was he thought was weird. Pak was still there, facing the wall, waiting for him - waiting for him to come and save him - waiting for him to stop the bleeding - waiting for him&

　　Kano took a step forward. His socks squelched in his waterlogged shoes. His gait was heavy, weighed down by his sopping wet clothes, but he slogged on, as if trundling through a swamp. Why was Pak so far away?

　　"Pak!" he shouted, reaching out as far as he could. He was desperate to graze his friend`s skin, if only to confirm the truth, that he was there, that he was waiting-

　　I miss you so much&

　　"MRRROOOOOH!"

　　A sudden flurry of fur and feathers collided with Kano`s head, knocking him clear off of his feet.

　　"No!"

　　Kano threw out his arms to break his fall before he hit the slippery tile, but the world around him lurched and warbled, and he found himself staggering, but somehow still upright. As he got his bearings and found his balance, he looked up, and the showers were gone. He was alone again in the Dream`s formless land.

　　"What? No!" Kano spun in a circle, searching for Pak, but he was nowhere to be found. "Goddammit! He was right there!"

　　He stopped, face-to-face with the thoroughly peeved gaze of his cat-owl escort.

　　"Wrong." Cabbage gave him a long-suffering glare. Then, without another word, he about-faced and waddled away.

　　Pak

　　We arrive after nine or ten sleeps at the base called Eriztre. It lacks the whimsy and light of Nagaleen. Even if an enemy stumbled through one of their false walls, they wouldn`t be able to see a thing without the light of the spoli. They`ve stripped the rock of glowing flora and sanded the ground to a marblesque sheen. The low ceiling and carved walls are somehow more suffocating than the Obsidian`s natural tunnels. Only soldiers occupy this round, sprawling labyrinth, each one wearing the same stiff uniform, marching upright with the same stiff gait.

　　They put me in another meagerly furnished cell and give me a meal of leathery meat and nefizzet egg. There`s a tub, if I want to bathe, Tok`sera says, but it shouldn`t be too long. I beg her to let me have my mother`s letter back. I want to see if he can read it, since he has some kind of connection to her. She reluctantly acquiesces, saying she`ll leave it on the table in the meeting room. We`ll be given time to speak in private with guards posted outside of the door. It won`t be long.

　　I bathe in the tub`s cold water, practicing my monologue inside my head:

　　Hello, father. I`ve been waiting a long time for this. You`ve got a lot to answer for, I`m afraid, and I`ve long since lost my patience. For your sake, I`ve only one suggestion you ought to heed: answer every one of my questions, and don`t dare presume you can lie to me undetected. I`m no fool. I`ve killed people before, and if you think me bold to make threats when you and I both know that there are guards on the other side of the door, imagine the pit of despair from which such boldness rises. Imagine the agonizing flame that has forged me, your son, into the devil I`ve become. Imagine it, dear father, and heel like the dog you are&