“They also say that adventures are waiting here, in this very place. Daw, the Cradle of Creation…”

  Dio blinked and tried not to let himself be thrown off balance, but he failed miserably.

  “Cradle of Creation? Here? This is just a village, nothing special, like any other…”

  “No.”

  Let spoke the word with a matter-of-fact certainty that made Dio shiver. Once again, unease washed over him, almost nausea, and he had to restrain himself from getting up and leaving.

  “No?” he breathed and hated himself for the weakness in his voice.

  “No. All the other villages, all the settlements I have been to… none of them compare to this place. It is as if progress itself lives here. Everyone elsewhere speaks of Daw, of having been here. Of the inspiration it brings to be in this place, the enlightenment. All of it smells far too strongly of Lucidity. But of a Lucidity that is not subservient to the Light. Not that it makes a difference in the end, because both attract the Nightmares, do they not?”

  Let leaned back with satisfaction, as if he had said something that left Dio no escape, as if he had cornered a hunted animal.

  “Lucidity, here? That would be nice. We could certainly use it. I have heard it makes many things easier,” Dio said, waving it off.

  Wes arrived with two bowls filled with a wonderful stew and set them down in front of them. The aroma was rich and fresh.

  “Forgive me, that smells marvelous. How are you able to accomplish such a miracle of cooking?” Let asked, turning to Wes and putting on a broad smile that made Dio’s stomach churn.

  Do not tell him. Please, do not tell him, Dio begged with his eyes, but Wes did not notice.

  He bounced on his feet, eager to share his secret.

  “Good sir, it is a gift of the Radiant Circle. Through it, I came upon the idea of cooking stew. Before that, I only baked bland bread. A miracle of the Light,” he beamed.

  Let nodded politely, but Dio saw the greed and triumph in his eyes when he looked back at him.

  “Interesting, is it not? Do you believe this stew was made with Lucidity? That I will take a part of it into myself, feel it? The thoughts and ambitions of this kind man who brought it to us?” Let asked, but Dio knew it was only a rhetorical question.

  As the merchant raised his spoon to his mouth and let out a cheerful sigh, Dio knew it was not just because of the food.

  “A true marvel, this dish. One could tell legends about it. The stew of Daw, which enlivens the soul and carries fortune. Almost like the vases that hold the beauty of the Dream, or the garments imbued with a transcendence of craftsmanship. All stories I have heard before. And truly, I am glad to have found a new one…” Let laughed.

  Dio shifted restlessly in his chair. He no longer knew what to do. He had hoped to somehow distract Let from Des, from Daw, but instead he had only given him new targets.

  “Do you know what else they say?” the merchant suddenly asked, leaning back in an exaggeratedly relaxed manner.

  “No, what?” Dio replied, once again trying to sound detached, even though he knew it was too late.

  Let seemed to notice that as well, so his words carried more mockery than honest explanation.

  “They say there is a shadow hidden here. A damnation that will one day devour and destroy everything. A symbol of creativity, but in its worst form: rot. Because all that is new will tear itself apart in endless cycles of innovation and peel away from the Dream, like a festering growth. Or so they say. Is that not so?”

  Dio barely heard him.

  He knows about Brela. Someone must have talked about her. He knows that there is something about her that could be interpreted as something terrible… Dio realized in horror.

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  And it was true. The corruption that had cost Brela her mind and her health was dark, vile. But would it go that far? Would the Nightmare in Brela’s mind endure and slowly consume them all…

  No.

  Dio forced himself to laugh out loud.

  “That sounds very unsettling, Let. Truly creepy. I bet someone told you that who just wanted to feel important. There is nothing like that to be found here. We are just a village that enjoys craftsmanship. Fieldwork. Animal husbandry and hunting. There are plenty of villages like that…”

  Let grinned.

  “Of course. Yet I do find it fascinating that no one has ever left this village since it experienced this upswing. Interesting, is it not? As if there were no value in leaving, because everything else would pale in comparison to the cleverness and inventive spirit of this place,” he said with a mocking undertone.

  Dio straightened and pressed his lips together before answering.

  “People have left. Our best,” he said, and the distant lights in his mind, representing his connection to Avee and Lot, brought him calm.

  “Who?” Let asked, a bit too sharply.

  “Many,” Dio replied, bolstered by renewed confidence.

  “Let, there may be many tales circulating, but there is neither a corruption nor a Lucidity among the people here that is unusual. Lucidity belongs to the Sages, not to farmers and blacksmiths or cooks. We are just a simple village that happened to have a bit more luck when it comes to inventiveness.”

  Dio leaned back as well now and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders and legs.

  “Des, is that his name? That is what he was called, right? The plant he cultivated, his youthful appearance. Would you not say he is Lucid?” Let asked softly.

  Dio had to suppress a sharp intake of breath.

  What am I supposed to tell him about that? He saw it himself, he asked himself as panic overtook his thoughts.

  Dio brought a spoonful of stew to his mouth, but it only made the nausea worse.

  Breaths passed.

  Then, an idea.

  “He got it from someone, Let. A woman. Beautiful, with brunette hair and eyes one could drown in. She was the very embodiment of beauty itself. Her skin was slightly green, but not repulsive or unhealthy, rather something that made her perfection stand out even more. Her breasts… forgive me, I am getting carried away,” he said, making an effort to sound enchanted and seduced, as if the thoughts of that woman no longer allowed him to think clearly.

  “A woman? Really? That changes everything. Dio, where did she go? I must find her. She will surely be able to tell me something I have not yet heard!”

  Let had jumped to his feet, his spoon striking the wooden floorboards with a sharp clatter that made those seated nearby flinch. The merchant did not care. His eyes darted around, his tall, gaunt figure turning toward the entrance doors, his eagerness burning brightly in every one of his movements.

  “Dio, where? Where is she? Where did she go?” he exclaimed.

  “She went toward where the Sun rises. Some call it east. I do not know if she stayed on her path. I believe she was a Sage. She stayed here for a long time but left for reasons unknown to me. I suspect this place was too uneventful for her. Perhaps she is the one you are looking for. In the end, she might have brought our inventiveness with her Lucidity,” Dio asked, nodding and trying to encourage Let with a smile.

  “Yes, that could be it. Thank you!” Let said happily and turned to leave.

  Inwardly, Dio breathed a sigh of relief and could hardly wait to see the unpleasant merchant and his dark aura gone. Let strutted toward the door, his hands trembling with excitement.

  I hope I never see you again, you terrible creature. Leave us alone, Dio thought grimly.

  The merchant had just reached the door and was about to press down the handle when he stopped. His head ceased its twitching, and he turned around. His gaze was stripped of the uncanny delight that had shone in his eyes before, stripped of the excessive descriptions and words he had chosen. He walked back to the table where they had spent the evening, slowly, almost hesitantly. He came so close that he was able to place a hand on Dio’s shoulder. The touch made Dio flinch, and he suppressed a shudder of disgust. Yet for a moment, the blindness within him calmed, and the merchant’s gaze resting on him was sad and afraid. His voice was once more warm, clear, and soft. It was not the voice of a man, but rather that of a woman, sad and broken.

  “Dio, I believe you have a grand, fantastic story ahead of you. Perhaps the most fascinating one I have ever heard. I like you, a feeling I have not had in ages, and therefore I want to tell you this: I know that you are almost as good a liar as I am. Please, make sure you get away from here. Please.”

  Dio felt that these were the first words the merchant had spoken to him that were nothing but truth.

  Then Let’s face hardened, and he laughed again, cold and shrill.

  “Forgive me, just a little joke on my part. Do not listen to that. Our talk made me yearn for something new, though. I think I will head for the Voids and other realms. For more excitement and tales. Farewell, Dio. It was a meal I will not forget!”

  With that, he strode out of the room.

  “Did you have a pleasant evening?” Wes asked, cautiously approaching Dio and looking after Let.

  Dio could tell that the cook was glad to have successfully entertained a guest, but he himself felt as if stones lay heavy in his stomach.

  What did he mean? What danger is at hand? Oh, I hope you leave this realm and we will never meet again!

  “It was fascinating…” He thanked Wes and Reab for the meal and hurried home to his log cabin. He would likely have gone straight inside to reflect on the conversation, had he not run into Des, whose unusually youthful face was streaked with tears.