Dreamstuff

“They suit you!” Elias blurted out before he could stop himself.

“Thank you,” she replied, blushing faintly as if caught off guard, about to add something when—

“Good morning!” Fawks chirped, cutting in.

“Good morning,” she echoed, her tone unexpectedly soft, almost sweet.

She seemed calmer, gentler than she had been the day before.

“The guards told me you’d probably be leaving today,” she said, motioning for them to walk with her toward the town’s exit. “I wanted to tell you a few things…”

“How are you? You look much better than when I last saw you last night,” Elias noted.

“I’ve been better,” she admitted. “But I’ll be alright. You’re not looking too bad yourself.”

They walked together toward the same gate where last night’s chaos had unfolded.

Though small, Tarlmere was alive with bustle in the early hours. Shops lined the narrow road, and from the food stalls drifted mouthwatering scents.

Fawks, whose stomach had been growling since morning, headed straight for a vendor selling pies. He bought two stuffed with turquoise-colored cheese and tarl.
“Want one?” he asked Red.

“No, thank you,” she declined with a shake of her head.

Shrugging, Fawks handed one to Elias.
“Ah… thanks,” Elias said, a little embarrassed.

He couldn’t shake the guilt of living off Fawks’s generosity.

As they continued walking, Red spoke again.
“First of all… about yesterday. The way I acted… it was only because you saw what happens.” She lowered her gaze.

“Yeah! What was that?” Fawks asked, his words muffled around a mouthful of pie.

“It’s what happens when someone stops dreaming–when they stop using their imagination.”

“Their imagination?” Elias asked.

“Yes. Imagination is the very substance of this world. Yesterday, your stone wall…”

“...or your impossibly strong blow?”

“Yes! Those were born of it.
Every rock, every stream… all of it is a thought given form.”

Elias looked around as if seeing the town and the nature around it for the first time. Suddenly, it all made sense.

“Then who built it all?”

“The story goes like this,” she said. “Long ago, everyone lived in their own separate spheres, apart from one another. Until one person used his wild imagination to build, and build, and build… until he created the first Common Ground. Much smaller than what you see today, but it grew. It spread.”

“I never heard that before!” Fawks admitted.

“And the one who did it—the one who imagined it all into being—is called the Warden.”

“The Warden…” Elias whispered, as if afraid to lose the name.

“He must have one extraordinary imagination, to hold all of this together,” she added, almost in awe.

“So yesterday… Anang didn’t have any imagination left?” Elias asked.

“Everyone has at least a little,” she answered as they reached the gate and stepped outside.
“But if you don’t use it–if you stop dreaming–you lose your purpose. Your goals fade. And slowly… you lose yourself.”
Her expression turned heavy with sorrow, and for a moment she said nothing.

“What?” Elias and Fawks leaned toward her, waiting.

“If you lose sense of who you are… you become a monster.”

A single tear slipped down her cheek; she wiped it away quickly. No one spoke.

“At the edge of the Outskirts, you’ll find many like that–twisted, wandering, destroying everything around them. Just days ago, we saw one that had turned into a wingless dragon. If you want to stay safe, head for the heart of the Common Ground.”

“Thank you,” Elias said quietly.

“I hope we’ll meet again!” Fawks added brightly.

She smiled at him–at the ten-year-old face that somehow carried such boldness.
“You know where to find me.”

She turned to go, then stopped.
“Oh!” She hurried back. “For the road ahead.”

She placed two tiny, chain-bound gems in Elias’s hand.

“I don’t know if I should accept this…” he hesitated.

“Take them,” she urged.

“…Thank you,” he said, sincerely.

“Well then–farewell,” Red said, and turned back inside.

“Bye!”

Once she was gone, Elias asked Fawks “What are they called?”

“Drael!” Fawks piped up immediately.
“That pie seller just told me!”

“Draels?” Elias asked, holding the gems up.

“No. Darl–” Fawks raised one finger. “Drael–” two fingers. Then four. Finally, all of them.

“I see…” Elias said with a nod.

Once that was settled, the two faced the road ahead. The day was wide open before them.

They crossed the field that spread out from Tarlmere’s gates, and as they neared the spot where the beast had landed the night before–Fawks leading the way–they stepped into the woods.