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There is a nightmare that starts out as a dream.
It happens on Thegund - a kinder and softer version of it. There is no chaos bombarding them; there is only boredom and the time to play dress up.
This game is important to Kibby and she wants their oversized wizard clothes to fit as well as they can. It looks more comical on Kibby, with sleeves that had to be rolled and pants that look more like a skirt, but she has the advantage of knowing how to put them on.
Kibby seriously adjusts Alden’s clothes and he thanks her when she is done.
“We match now!” says Kibby, holding up her azure auriad.
Alden smiles and pulls his own auriad over his fingers, almost touching Kibby’s. They look so similar, like two waves of the same sea.
“Yes, we match.”
Together, they sit down to cast a spell for two. It is hard to focus though, because the clothes, that never quite felt like his own, have shifted. Looking down, Alden can see the metal studs of the knight uniform.
Kibby is focused on the spell, her forehead creased. She doesn’t know yet and Alden intends to keep it that way as long as he can.
She doesn’t have to know that they do not match anymore.
And Alden wishes that they never will.
***
There is another dream, that is no nightmare.
In the dream, he touches the uniform and from this lightest touch it comes undone. It’s possible to hold up a scrap of fabric, and see how it looks against Alden’s skin.
He can take a sleeve and put it on. When Alden makes a fist, he can feel the power lent by its magic. It does not feel like his own.
The sleeve slips away when Alden wants it gone and returns to the mannequin, waiting.
Alden keeps trying the uniform on, piece by piece. Sometimes it feels like it has been made for him. Sometimes he fumbles, not recognizing his own limbs, or grows fearful that the pants will fall off, like in the cartoons.
The coat gives him the most trouble. The collar chokes him, no matter how many buttons Alden undoes. He can’t breathe and when the light is snuffed out, Alden thinks he is drowning.
But it’s not water that is around him. It’s the pressure of chaos, a storm of demons. The uniform helps him endure, but Alden doesn’t want its help.
When Alden throws the coat off, the demon grasshoppers are gone.
Alden should leave, he knows that. This dream would let him: it never resists him.
But Alden stays and touches the uniform. There is so much detail: in its engraved buttons, in the fine stitching. It feels… precious. Dangerous.
What is it like — to be a person who puts the knight’s uniform on and does not regret it?
Alden does not know.
What is it like — to be a person who leaves this place and never looks back?
Alden wishes he knew.
***
There is a series of dreams that layer upon each other like scales.
***
The woods of Stuart’s home are not truly dark, not even at night. It feels like the trees are hoarding sunlight, capturing it inside their canopy.
But today it storms and the sunlight had fled from the trees. The lamps, inadequately, attempt to illuminate the dark.
There are two rows of knights facing each other.
They look haunted, their eyes bloodshot. One by one, they approach each other and place their hands on each other’s shoulders.
“I see you.”
And just like that, their burden is lightened. The pain is dulled by understanding; the despair is blunted by hope.
Alden wishes he was among them, but he cannot stand up, he cannot even crawl. When he raises his voice, no one can hear him.
He is not wearing the uniform. He is not one of them.
Alden wishes he was. It’s not a grown up wish — it’s the yearning of a child. When a child wants to be a astronaut, they want to see the stars. They don’t want to study physics, to be rejected, to fail.
He would like to stand among them — but he does not want to die with them.
Childish.
It’s not his place to speak. He shouldn’t even be here.
But there is something clawing at his throat, begging to be let out.
***
It’s a regular Artonan street on a sunny day. The only thing irregular is him: he is a human wearing a knight’s uniform.
At first no one notices Alden. Then the first person stops and gapes at him. She needs a moment to decipher what her eyes are seeing, and then verify that there is no trick.
Her friend stops and sees Alden too. There is shock on his face.
Then, someone laughs.
“Look, how amusing! That Rabbit is wearing a costume.”
The remark draws more attention. People start turning towards him and their faces are a kaleidoscope of emotion. Some are awed; most are angry.
“This is no laughing matter! Avowed, have you no shame? Our traditions are not for you to mock!”
“It’s alright, he’s just a Rabbit! He doesn’t know what he’s doing. I bet a wizard put in these clothes, the poor thing.”
Alden tries to protest that his knight’s uniform is real. They should just ask Mother and she would tell them.
Someone tugs at him behind and Alden turns to see children scattering.
“I touched a human knight!”
They are overjoyed by the exotic sight.
“Will you die for me?” asks an old Artonan woman, standing far too close to Alden.
“I’d rather live,” would like to say Alden but he says nothing. Most of the crowd already thinks he is fake and if he refuses to sacrifice himself, they all will turn on him.
The press of people’s bodies entraps him and Alden’s voice is not loud enough to cut through their noise. His salvation comes unexpected.
“There you are!” proclaims a tall woman, and easily pulls Alden away from the crowd. “We were waiting for you. I’m sorry about all this: it’s not the welcome you were expecting, was it?”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“It will get better now. We are almost at the venue: that’s where all the new knights are at. So exciting to be able to host a party for them!”
Alden wants to ask more details, but the two are rushing so fast they are almost running.
When they arrive, the woman turns to Alden and beams at him.
“We arrived in time! Your job at the party is to hold this ice statue and prevent it from melting.”
“I’m sorry, there is a mix-up…”
“No, I’m quite certain this is right. It’s a perfect job for a Rabbit!”
“And please, take off that costume. It’s rather distasteful.”
***
Healer Yena has taught Alden he can tailor his nightmares, reject their helplessness and shame and replace them with action.
If the dream had been reality, Alden could have refused to carry the sculpture. He would have found a knight who knows him, walked away or even asked Mother for clarification.
In the worst case, Alden would have carried that statue and not been diminished by it. Whatever people think, Alden is who he is. Their actions shame them, instead of shaming him.
Besides, there is an omission in that dream.
Stuart should have been there. He would have changed everything.
But the dreams about Stuart are no better than those without him.
***
The forest is dark and quiet. The knights have left, hurt and healed after having been seen by each other.
Only one knight remains. He waits, and waits, for someone to see him.
In a way, Stuart is as invisible as Alden is. He speaks and no one hears him.
Somewhere in the white space that Mother created for him, there are two doors.
“Let Stuart die.”
“Tell him what you are.”
It is a choice that is no choice at all.
Stuart has been waiting for so long, that he is no longer looking for anyone. His gaze is turned inwards, not noticing Alden until he is close enough to touch.
“I see you.”
There is a moment of recognition, of gladness, before Stuart sees Alden’s uniform and it all fades to disbelief.
“It can’t… it isn’t..!”
But the protests die on Stuart’s tongue, because he sees Alden’s face. He recognizes the soul ache that both of them carry.
For Stuart, there is only one choice he can make.
“I see you.”
***
If the dream had ended here, Alden would have treated it as a special gift.
But the dream jumps ahead, like a scratched music record.
They are, as knights tend to be, surrounded by chaos.
“My father is waiting for us,” says Stuart. He is not looking back, hasn’t for a while. There is a greater purpose driving him — a purpose worth dying for, worth leading other people to their deaths.
Alden is being led.
His face is not hiding the emotions he feels — the exhaustion, the resentment, the despair. Ever since Stuart has failed to look back when he should have, Alden has known that they will die here.
Maybe it’s his fault. Back in the beginning, Stuart told Alden to call other Avowed for help.
Alden had refused and Stuart had respected that.
But now their search was leading them further and further into the chaos, and they had no plan for getting out.
There was nothing Alden could say. He had sworn the oath and it had bound him, just like the affixation had bound his authority.
Alden had become greater and lesser than what he was. Most days, he did not regret it.
Today was the day he was going to die — and he regretted it. He had known that you can be alone even with someone at your side, but he did not expect it to happen to him — not with Stuart at his side.
Stuart stumbles and Alden has to hold him by the elbow to hold him up. This is not the first time it has happened.
“Should we rest?”
“No,” says Stuart. Even now, he is not looking at Alden.
“We cannot go on.”
“We have to.”
Stuart tries to free himself, but Alden does not let him.
“We have to rest. Just for a moment, listen to…”
Alden does not finish the sentence, because he can now see Stuart’s face.
His eyes are black, turned wrong by chaos.
“I’m sorry,” says Stuart. “I know I should have said… I’m sorry. But when we reach the Primary, you will be safe. I can sense my father — we are almost there.”
“Entrust yourself to me.”
“I will not make your journey even harder.”
Stuart tries to undo Alden’s grasp, but he fails. It speaks to his weakness and the spread of chaos inside him.
“Then entrust me with the path to your father. We will move faster when under the protection of my skill.”
“Are you sure..?”
“I am sure.”
For emphasis, Alden bumps Stuart’s authority. It’s their equivalent for a fist bump; the two of them have invented it.
Shakily, Stuart bumps back. It is scary how much weaker he has gotten.
Alden does not think about Stuart turning into a demon. There is no point to it. Alden wouldn’t be able to defeat him anyway.
“I entrust you with the path.”
It’s something that Alden used to struggle with, the taking up of ephemeral concepts. It has gotten easier and it becomes even easier in moments of great need.
The path that Stuart means is broad enough for two people, but Alden changes the meaning. All he needs is a path thin as a thread, so it can lead him to his destination.
Since the thread begins with Stuart, Alden can take him as well and he does. Stuart’s face is frozen, his posture awkward for carrying over his shoulder. But it is fine.
“I have tricked you”, says Alden.
The burden is almost enough to crush him, but he can take a step. And another.
It had been enough with Kibby.
It won’t be enough right now.
Alden did not want to be a hero anymore. The child that wants to be an astronaut one day understands that to be with the stars you need to burn for them — and that child does not want to burn.
Then why is Alden here? Why is he here over and over again?
The Bearer of All Burdens takes another step.
***
“I don’t want to do this,” says Alden.
Mother does not reply, because she knows he doesn’t want an answer.
“I wish there were human knights that came before me. I could read stories about them, read the mean comments people write under their articles, and come to terms with what it all means.”
“But everything that happens will happen for the first time, and I will be unprepared for world’s insanity.”
“And even if it all goes well, and all Artonans agree a human knight is cool and equal in all ways to an Artonan knight… even all humanity gets really chill about my secrets and never asks how to learn magic and unlock the source of eternal suffering…”
“Even then, it can really suck. Because chaos sucks and I’m afraid of not being enough.”
A wind blows through Alden’s hair, the same wind that carries soap bubbles into his room. Each bubble reflects a memory.
One of them floats right under his nose. It holds laughter and air vibrating with joy. It’s what Lind’otta and Esh’erdi have. It’s what Alden could have.
I have already paid in pain, thinks Alden. Could I have this joy in return?
Even without looking, Alden feels Mother’s smile.
She will say nothing. Only smile.
***
Alden stands before a knight’s uniform, encased in glass. From the angle where he is standing, he can see a reflection of himself, wearing the uniform.
It’s a fragile illusion, easily broken. All that Alden has to do is to step away, but he remains standing there.
What appealed to Alden the most about the season of choosing, is that choice is not a single moment, but a whole journey. You have time to make choices that seem irrelevant or unimportant, but they are part of the journey and these choices are easy to make.
It’s easy to stand here, seeing how the knight’s uniform would look on him without putting it on. The smallest possible choice, a single moment without importance — unless you look at the moments that had come before and those that will come after.
When Alden looks at the whole picture, he can see the choices he keeps making. Every time he called Stuart, every time he probed for knowledge about knights, every time he watched knight traditions, hidden like a thief…
The hardest part was keeping his mouth shut. Does that not add a final dot to the picture?
The yell has been forming for a long time, through all the games and dreams, all the nightmares and horrors. Nothing has managed to kill it and nothing has succeeded in silencing it.
If Alden is afraid — then why is it so easy? Why was every single choice leading up to here the only choice he could take?
The fear has not diminished; in fact, Alden has found new reasons to be afraid of knighthood.
But something has been growing inside him, maybe bravery, maybe foolishness, and it has been growing faster than the fear.
For now, Alden is silent — but one day he will forget to lock his jaw and to bite his tongue. He will open his mouth — innocently — and the yell will escape in its deafening glory.
Every Artonan will hear it. Some will fall to the floor, shaking with fear, and others will kneel in rapture.
Humans will hear it and most will not understand. “Superhero with wizard powers —what has that to do with generals?”
A woman will hear the news from her yacht and spin her schemes, desperate to have this power. She knows more about magic than most, and yet she knows nothing and understands even less.
A boy will hear it on the radio while throwing away spoiled milk in Brooklyn. He has known for a while; now he listens to the world's freak out.
A superhero school will hear it and explode with rumors. The Trime accounts will spread confident disinformation and present opinions as facts.
A disgraced wizard will hear it, surrounded by Thegundian grasshoppers as witnesses. He will have seventeen emotions about it, deny half of them, and spend a week checking if people are blaming him for this development.
An Artonan boy will hear the yell, standing face to face with Alden. He will need to blink, for the yell had time to grow, and the enormity of it will take a moment to process.
It is a short, big moment. To Alden, it feels like an eternity.
The answer comes not in words, but with touch.
Stuart’s authority bumps Alden’s.
And Alden fist bumps back.