TravelingDreamer
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B7—Chapter 29: When the Same Message Repeats, It’s Time to Listen
🕑 Added 2025-10-12 18:33:30 +0000 UTCI was doing my weekly check in the Archive, shaking my head at the amount of new crap the Travelers posted.
Tr. PPB
You won’t believe it! Turtles attacked my group. Turtles! Not only did they attack us, they were fast and had sharp teeth. Who heard of attacking turtles? It’s an affront to the natural order, and I don’t care what world they are in. Turtles are not attack animals.Tr. CG
You’re complaining about turtles? I’m right now in a world where the crabs are smaller than my palm. Do you know how much work it takes to gate a morsel of crab meat? Where are the regular crabs? I want my fix in normal doses!Tr. SD
You are both hopeless idiots. Who complains about meeting unique variants? Isn’t that our reason for traveling?Tr. BBN
What he said.
That made me laugh. The crabs on Earth were small compared to any other crab I had encountered on my journey, so I knew what he was talking about, and I could understand his viewpoint from Rue’s perspective.
This time, a pleasant surprise awaited me. Lis had finally replied to my post from when we worked on Al’s house.
Tr. JR
“Clueless, Inventor”Lis, what the hell!
We’re building Al a house and finding out that you withheld a lot of important information.
The blueprint you left with the water tank plan didn’t mention the two layers of wood with insulation between them. It only had the runes. Why?
And why didn’t you leave instructions on how to work with the pontoons?
I lost half a day burning holes in rubber while trying to engrave it.
How did you do it? Mahya and I are stumped._________
Tr. JR
Lis, sometimes I want to strangle you. Don’t worry, in a good way, as Mahya would say, but still, I want to strangle you. We lost days trying to figure out how you managed to layer three different rune lattices, one on top of the other, without them interfering or short-circuiting. How the hell did you do it?
When you worked with Mahya on my house, she was just starting and didn’t know her head from her butt, but now she has the Magicaneer class and has built some impressive stuff. And after all that, she still has no idea how to do it. I can see mana flows clearly now, like water streams, and I still don’t see a solution.
Give us a hint, or better, detailed instructions. (In code, of course.)
By the way, we dropped the triple function of the spell room and settled on regeneration, but we still want to understand how you did it.P.S. We miss you and want to know how you’re doing. Rue sends his regards and reminds you to eat yummy food.
_________
Tr. LM
“Inventor, Clueless”
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.
Your message made me laugh for almost a full minute. I could picture the expression you wore while writing it. It warmed me like the first sun after a prolonged rain.Regarding your questions with a lot of hells in them:
If I spoon-feed you every crumb of information, how would you grow and advance? Like a map that reveals only the coastline, the rest is for you to chart.Now, answer the following questions truthfully. You do not have to write me a reply. Answer them for yourself:
Are you still forgetting to use most of your spells and Identify?
On the other hand, do you forget to use the spells you crafted?
What is the difference between the two?And that is your answer, my friend. Grow and advance, and reach new peaks. The vista is breathtaking from this high vantage point. Picture it: The knowledge laid out like rivers and roads. This is your journey to make, and your peaks to conquer.
I am doing fine and enjoying myself immensely. I am still visiting with Hollankorasun, the Magitech inventor I told you about previously. We advanced our engineering and mathematical knowledge with the books you provided and the advanced material Mahya supplied, and are now working on fascinating projects.
No, I will not specify them in the Archive, despite the code you invented. Such things are better told in person. This includes the solution for the lattice. If you don’t find the answer yourself, your curiosity will drive you to progress and advance, allowing us to meet sooner.
Tell Rue I am discovering new tastes and scents, and when we meet again, I will personally give him a taste of every interesting thing I find here. Tell him that each bite will be a note in a song I will play for him.
Please tell me about your adventures. A long time has passed since your last message, and I am sure you have experienced new and fascinating things since.
With a grin and a pocket full of stories,
Lis, AKA Inventor
I shook my head at the conniving bastard. He knew me too well.
I sighed and scrolled the Archive to find my previous message, to see which adventures I had told him about and which I hadn’t, and I kept scrolling. After five minutes I gave up — the Archive was too full of crap. I did scroll past an article that sounded interesting, Marketplace Anthropology: How Markets Shape Worlds, so I noted it and kept going until I finally gave up. The endless scrolling made me realize how long it had been since I wrote to Lis. I felt like a shitty friend. After a moment I shook my head to rid myself of the self-criticism. The fact that we didn’t correspond often, didn’t diminish our friendship, and he didn’t write every day either, so it was fine. Sort of. I still felt kinda guilty.
Instead, I wrote Lis about our adventures since reaching Zindor. I told him about the dungeons and Mahya’s fever to gather more and more cores. About the awful society there, about Sanctuary, what we did, and my pride in making a shitty place a bit better. I described the enormous mana occurrence we cleared and how Rue treated it like an all-you-can-eat buffet, naming sections after dish names.
I told him about teaching savages about fire, the madness of cultivators, and the strange religion in Liliatas that led to widespread prostitution. I wrote about the moon, how I rescued Mahya, and about Malith, with a note: “He’ll probably make his way to the Dragon Realm at some point. If you meet him, say hi from us.”
I told him about Tatob, how much fun I had there, and the war that ruined everything. Wrote about visiting Australia and the adventurer who recognized me and thanked me for my help. With a sigh, I added, “At that point, I felt like a deer in headlights and just wanted to get the hell out of there. But in retrospect, I’m glad he figured out who I am. It made me feel better knowing that my warning made a difference and saved lives. I feel less guilty for leaving.”
I told him about my fight with the yellow slaver and how scared I was during the encounter, and added, “I’m so glad I didn’t know how terrifying mental magic is. If I did, I might have been afraid of you and might not have let our friendship develop the way it did. Still, even if I have you as an example of a Psionic class, I’m scared shitless of mental magic and I’m looking for a way to safeguard my mind.”
I told him about the ill-advised glitter bomb and how hard it was to finally get rid of it. Wrote about our recent world, the upgrade process it’s undergoing, meeting Rabban and Sonak, about half-forgiving Sonak or at least digesting his presence better, about Rue pissing on a stupid girl, and Mahya breaking the bones of her hookup.
The long letter took me the whole day and made me relive some adventures. I kept a diary of my travels, but I usually wrote in it and moved on without reading what I had written. It was an opportunity to look back and smile. Yeah, being a Traveler was the best.
Done with the letter, I scrolled back to the article about markets. It was interesting, but didn’t really teach me anything new. While I was writing and reading, Rue kept sticking his head under my hand for pets and ear scratches, so I closed the Archive and gave my boy some attention.
The following day was our appointment with the seer. We headed there after breakfast, and it took a while. She lived on the border near the road leading to the western part that was off limits. The house was on the prettier side, not the strange ones that grew weird extensions in every direction. Inside, it was quite cozy. A thick rug covered the floor, big armchairs that looked like they could swallow us whole, batches of herbs hanging from the ceiling, and a pleasant smell of flowers and herbs.
A young girl with long black hair in a yellow dress met us at the door and offered tea. Mahya talked with her and arranged the payment—two mithril each, not bad—and we got the tea, served in cracked little cups with steam that smelled of lemon and unknown herbs.
A woman left the back room in tears, looked at us, turned her face away, and rushed out of the room. We exchanged confused glances.
The girl approached us. “Who is first?”
I gave Mahya a small nudge with my hand. “You should go first since you made the appointment.”
She got up and followed the girl.
Mahya was gone for about half an hour. In the meantime, I looked in the Archive again to see if I could find any new articles. Nothing interesting came up. Travelers preferred to post crap instead of informative pieces.
When Mahya finally came out, she was hugging herself and had an odd expression.
“You okay?” I asked.
She nodded with a hum.
“What did she tell you?” Al asked.
Mahya shot him an annoyed look. “It’s private.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but the assistant walked over to us. “Who is next?”
“Go ahead,” I said to Al.
He followed her in.
“You sure you’re okay?” I asked Mahya again.
“Yeah, I’m fine. She told me some things I need to think about.” She flicked her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, nothing bad, just things I need to work through.”
“So she’s a real seer, not some hack?”
Mahya gave me a startled look. “Clairvoyant witches are never hacks.”
Good to know.
Mahya got lost again in her thoughts, and I read a book to pass the time. Al was gone for less time, but came out with the same unreadable expression.
“You okay?” I asked him, feeling like a broken record.
“Yes. Thank you for your concern.” And walked out.
Mahya and I looked after him, exchanged a glance, and shrugged. She stood up and followed him out. I looked at the assistant, who was waving me in.
The room she led me to was unexpected. I had pictured a crystal ball or a spread of cards, but instead it was quiet and domestic. Two overstuffed armchairs flanked a small round table, sunlight pooling on a worn rug, and five cats dozed in the patches of light while two birds hopped and preened on the windowsills. The air smelled faintly of dried herbs and warm tea, and the whole place felt more like a lived-in sitting room than a seer’s den.
The witch looked young, maybe in her early thirties. I was pretty sure she was older and that her looks came from high Vitality rather than youth. No matter how young a person looks, the eyes always give them away. There is no way to erase the weight of years and experience from a person’s look. She sat in one armchair, legs folded beneath her, and when I walked in, smiled and waved me to sit in the other.
When I sat down, she held out her hands to me, palms up.
For a second, I was confused, but then placed my hands in hers. Her palms were cool and a little rough at the base of the thumbs. She closed her eyes, and mana coalesced around her. It was light gray with small blue specks. I never saw anything like it.
The mana eddies I always saw all around me had every color imaginable, but it was always one color. Hers had specks in it!
She squeezed my hands, jumped in her seat, and opened her eyes, staring at me in shock.
Her fingers dug into my skin for a second and then slackened. All the cats in the room lifted their heads and looked at me with the same expression.
“What?” I asked.
She continued to stare at me. I had no idea what was going on. To get some answers, I tried to tune in on her emotions, but she was a closed book. Nothing leaked out. All of a sudden, something changed, and I could read her, at least partially. As if she gave me permission. She was excited, scared, confused, curious, and most of all felt unworthy. That one confused me the most. There was a quick shiver under her ribs when the unworthiness sat; I could almost reach out and touch it.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
She stared at me for a few more seconds, then got up and bowed to me, a ninety-degree bow. It was precise and full, the sort of bow you give when something old and important is being acknowledged.
I rubbed my face, utterly confused and out of ideas what to do. “Do you want me to leave?” I asked. My shoulders were tensing by the second.
“No!” she exclaimed loudly. “No. Please stay,” she said in a quieter tone. “What do you wish of me?”
“A reading, I guess? I mean, you’re a seer, right?” I sounded less confident than I wanted to.
She nodded.
“So see or whatever you do. I don’t know, it’s my first time in such circumstances.” I felt like I should have had a better script.
She stared at me—again. I was getting fed up with the whole thing. No wonder Al and Mahya looked strange; this witch was nuts. Her stare held longer now, like a probe rather than a glance.
I put my hands on my knees and was about to get up, but she placed a hand on my shoulder. “Please stay. I will see for you; it is the greatest honor of all.”
I didn’t know how to reply to that, but at least we were getting somewhere. This time, when she took my hands, less mans coalesced around her, and it was paler, without the specks. I was about to ask about it when she started to speak and threw me off completely. Her normal voice was soft with a bit of throatiness. Now, she sounded different. Her voice was forceful and had a harsh edge.
“At the first road, your feet were fire,
your chest a compass, hungry for doors that would not stay shut.
You longed to pry, the light behind lids, the slow unsealing of things.
A soul came like a thousand stars,
spilling answers into your palms as if to feed a lamp.
They were gifts meant for the road,
but they settled like iron, cooling and hard.
Questions folded shut like paper left in rain.
Wonder drew back its colors and tucked itself away.
You stopped asking. You stopped opening doors.
Instead you drifted, a leaf without root,
blown from tavern to gate by hands that never named themselves.
You became the shape of the path, the echo of the trail,
not the maker of marks upon it.
If you are to fulfill the purpose
carved into bone in the world that birthed you,
loosen the edges, pry at seams,
carry questions like lanterns, not stones.
Keep seeking.
Keep learning.
Keep breaking the walls that lead to answers.
Fail, and the thread that leads you home will fray;
you will be a speck on a wind with no harbor, never whole.”
She sagged in the chair and looked unconscious. I was shocked and impressed. That was a beautiful poem, but it had sadly lost its rhyme in translation. After I stopped admiring her poetic prowess, I thought about what she had said and winced. Just yesterday, Lis had told me I had to get my butt in gear and make progress if we were ever to meet again, and now this witch was saying I had rested on my laurels long enough.
Yeah, traveling for fun was, well, fun. But I had to get back to work.
A whisper of agreement reached me from the Guidance. It still felt far and muted but unmistakable.
Comments
Silver Beard
Her initial reaction though- will she give up why? Senses his heritage... best guess.
Silver Beard
Happy progress is going to pick up speed.
