With that, the King moved his arm up in a sweeping upward motion. Streaks of mist came in from every direction, seemingly from far over the horizon, beyond the edge of the world itself, concentrating in a spot about an arm’s length away from Lucy. The mist solidified into three ice-blue rods that stretched out perpendicular to one another, forming a 3D Cartesian plane. At the ends of each axis, where they met to form a vertex, were golden marbles that shimmered and glowed with a luminescence that didn’t seem wholly provided by the sunlight; much like the mist, their light appeared to be from outside the world of Lucy’s Dream. As Lucy examined the 3D plane, she saw that each of the axes had little indents at regular intervals, shaped in such a way so as to hold the marbles. The other ends of each axis, stretching from the point of convergence, didn’t have a definite end: rather, they faded softly and gradually into the air. The resulting effect was the feeling that each axis could stretch on endlessly, farther than what one could conceivably imagine.

  “Take a closer look,” said the King as he gave a light pushing gesture.

  The 3D plane floated closer to Lucy. Peering into it, she saw that the base of it, while highly translucent, wasn’t completely blank. A large white number “10” lay at the centre of the base. Along each axis were smaller white numbers, each of them showing the number “0”.

  “Each time you are able to update your alignments,” said the King, “you will be given ten alignment points to allocate. This determines the combined number of positions you can move the Alignment Orbs up a given Axis.”

  “I see,” said Lucy, staring at the “10” written on the base. So this truly was like stat allocation in a role-playing game, with a set number of points to allocate at each “level”.

  “To define your initial alignments,” said the King, “please move the Alignment Orbs to the positions you desire. Remember that it is highly advised to have a Primary Axis, so one Axis should be set to a higher position than others. You may wish to decide on your Primary Axis first.”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” said Lucy. She looked into the point where the three Axes converged, at the three marbles or “Alignment Orbs” as the King had called them. One of them had a shimmering green “I” painted on its surface, another had a deep blue “U”, and the last had a fiery red “R”.

  All she had to do was pick one of these three marbles and move it more positions than the other two. In that sense, declaring her Primary Axis was easy, so easy a kid could do it, but the process of deciding wasn’t so straightforward. Her first consideration was that Ideation would help her avoid battles altogether: a tempting thought as the idea of doing any sort of fighting frightened her. But when she imagined being evasive and afraid all the time, while holding onto the sword of her Ideals that felt heavy, and decisive, and like it could stand against anything, she tightened her grip on the handle and instead pictured herself standing her ground against some dark, shadowy foe. Despite her complete lack of battle experience, the image felt intuitively right, and so Ideation did not.

  With that image of herself holding steady before opposition, her considerations naturally drifted to the Axis of Understanding. She had felt it, just moments ago, when she laid eyes on her reflection of Understanding, and also when her eyes lingered there afterwards, as if her gaze had found its home and struggled to let go. Intuitively, it felt right…but did that mere hunch capture everything this Axis held in store for Lucy?

  To align with Understanding meant taking the brunt of everything. Enemy attacks, the difficulties and dilemmas of the Dreamers she was rescuing, and the sheer weight of expectation of always being there, to steadfastly withstand and endure. It was an inherently admirable image to Lucy, which was likely why her gaze was immediately drawn to it. But the reflection in the mirror had only made it look easy because it was embodying the Axis of Understanding itself. In reality, being so stalwart wouldn’t look so pretty. Lucy imagined taking a massive blow to the abdomen and fighting against every cell in her body screaming in pain as she mustered every ounce of strength merely to keep from collapsing face-first. She imagined her patience being stretched thin as Dreamers, with all their myriad personal foibles, doubted her intentions, distrusted her capacity to sincerely care about them, and repeatedly shut her out of their hearts.

  Lucy’s gaze dropped down to her boots as she recalled Thomas’s face, his expression closed and kept under lock and key as he walked past her and shut himself into his bedroom, convinced that his older sister would never be able to understand the living hell he faced at school. Then there was the lingering frustration from her mother scolding her for even attempting to inject herself into the “adult matters” that kept her mother up and crying at night. And Kathy…

  Lucy sniffled, then realized that tears were streaming down her cheeks, so she planted her sword into the platform with one hand and used her other to wipe at her cheeks. When she was finished, she put brought her hand down to the handle and was struck with the sudden revelation that she was mimicking the pose of her reflection in the Axis of Understanding.

  And it came to her, then: the thought that her reflection hadn’t always been so steady, so unwavering, the whole time before striking that patient pose. Perhaps she, too, had been wiping away tears mere moments prior. Her reflection had been able to cry at her own mistakes, her own limitations, her own failures for other people, but still find the strength to continue standing for them. And if her reflection could accomplish that, Lucy could, too. Not now, but in the future reflected by that mirror. A distant, far-flung future, perhaps, but one that was in reach if only Lucy would keep on.

  It was decided, then.

  Holding the handle of her Ideal firmly with one hand, she brought her other hand up toward the Alignment Orbs. As she poised it in the direction of the Understanding Orb, her eyes flicked to the Rebellion Orb beside it, representing the one Axis she hadn’t considered. Perhaps that was a hasty thing to do, but Understanding as her Primary Axis felt right, sure as the pure, silver ray of reflected sunlight from the mirror.

  And yet…

  If she were to imagine herself before an adversary, just as she had when considering Understanding, it was surprisingly easy to also envision herself striking her opponent down with wickedly righteous power. Why should she wait, stretch her patience, and openly accept damage when it would be so easy to counter, to strike back, to rebel? Perhaps it was in her nature to stand back and understand, just as clouds stayed up high and quietly regarded the strife on the earth below, but if she could instead press forward and assert her will without compromise, she could vanquish anything in her path. Any obstacle, any foe, and—with chills running through her from the hand reaching out toward the marbles—something much, much greater.

  “Lucy?”

  The King’s voice echoed in her thoughts. Before that, the world had gone blank, and Lucy vaguely remembered a sense of…travelling somewhere far away. Not just in one direction, but two. It was disorienting enough to make her vision swim, and when it stabilized, she noticed her hand was now moving toward the Rebellion Orb. Her eyes went wide at the revelation, and she quickly pulled her hand back, looking at it and confirming that she was indeed still in control of her own arm.

  “Is there something wrong?” said the King.

  “N-not at all,” said Lucy, fighting the shakiness in her voice. “Just changing my mind.”

  “That is understandable,” said the King. “I was surprised, as you appeared very composed in your initial intention. But you are free to change your mind as many times as you need.”

  “Thank you,” said Lucy. As she stood with her hand still outstretched, she found this whole exchange with the King very bizarre. It was clear from his tone of voice, that pang of surprise that was completely unlike him up until now, that he genuinely had no idea Lucy flip-flop on her decision like this. But he was a part of her own mind, wasn’t he? So he should have understood her thought process there.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  But what if that little “mental blackout”, and her hand’s sudden shift toward the Rebellion Orb, had been something he the King couldn’t sense, for whatever reason? Could this whole episode, which Lucy had been trying to brush aside as a mere mental lapse, be indicative of some deep problem within herself, one that even her mind’s oldest and greatest companion couldn’t surmise?

  And if that were the case, did it preclude her from becoming a Dream Knight, after all?

  Lucy shook her head. That was a ridiculous thing to think of, at this point. Sure, maybe she had some pent up anger and frustration that had temporarily tilted her intentions toward Rebellion—but who didn’t feel that way, having lived any sort of life? Right now, she was back in conscious control of herself, and that was what mattered. She shouldn’t let herself be discouraged again, and over something so brief and minor. She’d already doubted herself enough, after all.

  Bringing her hand forward, she hovered her thumb and forefinger over the Understanding Orb. When they were close enough to make contact, her fingers didn’t simply enclose around the Orb—rather, the Orb leapt up to her fingers, as if drawn by a magnet. It was startling, but Lucy also found it comforting, seeing that this Axis was eager to align with her.

  Looking down at the number ten inscribed on the 3D plane’s base, she thought of how to distribute her alignment toward what would become her Primary Axis. In her mind, the best bet was to allocate five points, giving her a roughly equal amount to divide between the other two Axes. That way, she wouldn’t be handicapping herself too much in the other two Axes.

  Bringing the Understanding Orb up to the fifth indentation along its axis was as simple as it looked, and dropping it into its designated spot was an action that neatly fell into place as well. The moment the Orb dropped in, a clear chime rung through the air, loud and clear but also pleasantly clean and pure, like the heavenly bell one imagines they might hear upon waking up to a day they had always dreamed of. Lucy recalled the King saying this was the final step toward knighthood, and she understood that now, for the sound to her was the sound of beginning.

  After studying the Understanding Orb’s new position for some time, taking in how naturally it seemed to embed itself at the fifth level of alignment, Lucy looked up from the alignment plane and at the King. He nodded and gently pointed his upturned palm toward the alignment plane, making it clear that she was okay to proceed.

  Lucy returned his nod then brought her attention to the two Orbs still at the starting position. With five points remaining, there was no way to do an even split. Of her two non-Primary Axes, she would have to decide which of them she preferred.

  Her first thought was to go for Rebellion, in accordance with the automatic draw she had felt toward it multiple times now. But it was those very same memories that made her hesitant. On top of that, she realized she had been ignoring the ways Ideation would compliment her Primary Axis. With a deep understanding of people and situations, she would be able to channel her wisdom into Ideation to come up with new routes and ideas that were not only novel, but well-informed. That sounded immensely helpful.

  However, it was possible Rebellion could serve as a good compliment as well; surely, some other Dream Knights had chosen the same combination and found success. But Lucy couldn’t think of many ways that sounded appealing to her. Striking an enemy’s weak point more quickly and effectively? Arguing against opposing views more adeptly with greater logic and substantiation? Those were certainly useful in many scenarios—but Lucy wanted to avoid getting into such confrontational scenarios to begin with, if she were being entirely honest with herself. She wanted to help people, first and foremost, and to that end she aimed to avoid conflict as much as possible.

  With all of this decided in her mind, the remaining alignments were clear. She picked up the Ideation and Orb and placed it at the third alignment position. Then she took the Rebellion Orb and placed it on the second alignment position.

  Both actions caused a similar bell-like chime to ring out, though it was not as clear as when she had been aligning her Primary Axis. Bringing her hand back down to her Ideal’s handle, she glanced at the number on the alignment plane’s base.

  Zero. All alignments had now been allocated as follows:

  Ideation: 3

  Understanding: 5

  Rebellion: 2

  “Excellent,” said the King. “You may wish to take some additional time in case you wish to reconsider. Once your initial alignments are set, they cannot be undone, for your influence will be broadcast throughout the Lattice of Dreams. Thus, your initial image will be engraved on the walls of the collective unconscious, just like the generation and culture-spanning archetypes and meta stories. Once embedded, it is there for all eternity, but with the capacity to evolve throughout your adventures.”

  He paused, then gestured at the centre point of the alignment plane. “If you are satisfied with your initial alignment, put your Ideal’s blade through the alignment plane’s centre. That is the Origin Point, from which all your influence emanates.”

  Lucy regarded him for several more moments, taking in the weight of what he was saying, letting the implications follow her as she focused again on the alignment plane. There was always that moment, when starting a role-playing game, where she was paralyzed at this point of no return, where her initial decisions would be set in stone and there would be no way to mitigate any regrets afterwards.

  But what stood before her now was a far greater—and more personal—dilemma. Her decision here would determine how she would fare at the onset of her journey as a Dream Knight, and as with learning anything new, that early part of her journey would almost certainly be the most difficult. But more than that, this decision would define how everyone, every single Dreamer across humanity, would understand the very concept of “Lucy Lockhart.” It all led to a simple but heavy question:

  Was this how Lucy wanted to be understood?

  Surprisingly, once she boiled it down to that single question, and thought back again to her reflection demonstrating the Axis of Understanding, as well as the three people dear to her heart who made a complicated warmth well up within her, Lucy found that the answer was also very simple—as clear as the chiming of bells she had heard when aligning her Primary Axis.

  Gripping her Ideal’s handle with both hands, she raised it up and rotated it so that the blade pointed skyward, catching reflected beams of sunlight from the alignment orbs. Just as it was unbelievably simple to move the alignment orbs, so too did Lucy feel the lack of resistance, the almost fated push toward her making the motion of pointing the tip of her blade at the Origin Point and thrusting it in. To her surprise, the blade wedged itself there. The hold was so firm that when she let go of the handle, it remained sticking out at an upward diagonal. With the blade gleaming in the sunlight and continuing to give off its faint, blue, mystical aura—and with the King presiding over everything in fantastical wizard-like robes—her Ideal looked like the sword-in-the-stone of countless legends.

  As soon as Lucy made this connection, her Ideal and the alignment plane lit up with pure white light. It wasn’t blinding, surprisingly, as the luminescence was soft like the whites of clouds, but still Lucy took a step back. A shimmering sound rung through the air, and then the white light diffused, spreading out in all directions like a tidal wave flooding the sky. The light was quick to disperse as it travelled out over the sky, becoming a translucent sheet of sparks the further it spread out, but still Lucy could see that it went far past the horizon. Most likely past the bounds of her Dream and out into the infinite reaches of others’ Dreams, as the King had been saying earlier when describing her influence.

  Once the last of the light had disappeared beyond the sky, there was silence as Lucy gazed far and away. It was mesmerizing, knowing that in this instant she had reached far more people than she could ever have hoped to in her lifetime. Bringing her gaze down to her sword, she pulled it of the Origin Point and brought it closer to her face, feeling the weight of knowing that all these Dreamers now knew—subconsciously, at least—that she was a knight with a dazzling sword, with all of the weight that carried.

  The alignment plane dispersed, then, fading into the air like an afterimage. And yet, there was a kind of permanent imprint it left on the space where it had been, so that Lucy was always subconsciously aware of where it had appeared, and where it will appear again.

  “I wish to extend as sky’s worth of congratulations,” said the King, “for you are now, in the hearts and minds of all humanity, a Dream Knight.”

  He knelt down before her on one knee, bowing his head, and added: “Ser Lucy Lockhart. That is thee.”

  Lucy regarded him silently for a moment, feeling a swirl of emotion—disbelief, pride, and the distant trace of childish hope—well up within her. She brought her sword back down so that the blade rested at her feet, then smiled. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  As the King got back up to his feet, Lucy asked a question that surfaced in her mind: “Now that I’ve set my alignments, do I also get to choose my starting Feats?”

  “Unfortunately,” said the King, “acquisition of new Feats is not part of the initial alignment process. As Feats require complete control over bending the rules of Dreams in specific ways, acquiring your first Feat will require more influence than what you have just broadcasted. Once you have had your first success in rescuing a Dreamer, you will be able to acquire your first Feat.”

  “Oh, all right. That makes sense.” Lucy was a little disappointed, as she had been hoping to at least be able to do something small like conjure an ember of fire or lift things heavier than what she normally could. Anything to make her feel at least a little superhuman, like something out of a fantasy. But she supposed waiting until after her first adventure was fair enough. Given her Primary Axis, patience was a virtue she ought to exemplify.