A FEW DREAMS LATER
“Pigwidgeon…”

Fenn glanced up from the clear waves, where schools of triangular fish darted and flashed, nibbling playfully at him every so often. He stood waist-deep in warm sea water. Water didn’t have to freeze in dreams. Sand was wonderfully squishy, but not gritty-sticky.

Dreams could be fantastic.

“Pigwidgeon,” Banrion repeated with a sigh, trying to solidify his attention. She looked a bit out of place on a beach, with her heavy robes, and her scales glittering in the sun. “I came to remind you to pursue the research I am in need of. You get distracted most easily.”

A sheepish smile struck him. He conceded that point, as a part of him really did want to go back to playing with these pretty, darting fish.

“Also,” she said, steepling her fingers together. “I request your permission for something. Would you mind if started going through some of your memories?”

Blinking against the sunlight, Fenn gave her an uneasy look.

“I have no nefarious intentions with this. Merely, I wish to see if your experiences of Althanas will tell me anything important about the land, or if you permit, yourself,” she explained, her heads tilting side to side as she did so. She seemed a touch reluctant about this. “I will try to not intrude on anything too personal if I come across such things. Is that reassuring?”

With a distracted nod, the little puck went back to watching the fishes twirl about his fingers and toes. Sure, he supposed. He couldn’t see any bad things she could do with his memories. Perhaps that was shortsighted. Perhaps, it was vain. Though Fenn was pretty sure he had done a lot of bad things in the past, he was also certain that they were mainly instances of petty thievery and spectacular foolishness. How could he be threatened by things he was proud of?

Banrion smiled with both heads, but Fenn was no longer paying attention. “Your agreement is appreciated. I’ll leave you to your slumber then. Merry part, my Pigwidgeon.”

With that, the Chancellor was gone. He didn’t watch her fade away, but he did feel it. He felt something else too, something shift and give in the world around him. The sand and water seemed to melt together and drip into the sky, as if they had given up on existing. Fenn watched slack-jawed as bubbles of sandy water and soggy silt floated away.

Damn. There went all the shiny little fishes, slipping through his fingers, winking out of sight.