In Chapter 94, while Dabwick meditated, a vision of how they lived their old life in Cassomir was revealed:
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A distant haze in the air grows larger and larger, and eventually Dabwick makes out a murmuration of starlings shifting, on a moment’s breath, from north, to west, to south, in beautiful curving swells and ebbs. Dabwick admires the shapes.
They Understand starlings quite well and, at the moment, are watching the birds with envy.
Knowing that the starlings are fiercely independent thinkers when they aren’t flocking reminds Dabwick that, for the moment at least, they’ve got themselves conscripted into the Worst Adventure Imaginable. And no matter how much they imagined they could just walk away before, they are well past that point now.
They have been woven into the Grand Tapestry.
Dabwick pictures their modest apartment in the ship merchants’ alleyway of the Grayguard's Shadow district. The little life they were carving out for themselves in Cassomir. It all seemed so small now. The little pallet of furs. The desk and chair, unmatched. Scavenged furniture, all of it.
Their little act of faith, leaving the door unlocked every night. Such a silly little thing, to purposefully leave your front door unlatched, but Dabwick took a little mark of pride in their ability to trust that they had nothing to fear.
Pfft. Naive. Stupid Dumb-dumb. You knew nothing.
Their head throbs, pulses.
YOU ARE NOTHING.
Dabwick winces. They realize that they hope the others aren’t talking about them. That they don’t plan on leaving Dabwick in Cassomir and going on without them. Of course they wouldn’t… right?
Not now. Not now that the seed of God has been planted in me brains. They can’t abandon Ol’ Dabs now!
But it would make sense, wouldn’t it?
Grip’s seems to Understand, but he’s part of the bigger picture, and, ‘course, he’s closer to Dora and Vik, naturally.
Vik, who was so kind to speak up, but … can he really be that attached to Dabwick after all he’s done to me?
And Dora, bless the dear, perfectly friendly… but not always so nice is she? Couldn’t we just imagine her coldly walkin’ away, should Dabwick come between her and her studies?
Dabwick stifles back a sob and opens their eyes. The starlings are still there in the distance, murmuring in swooping chaotic forms. The dance looks almost violent to Dabwick now, like a creature’s flesh, tearing from the inside out, over and over and over again.
I could be any spare part they picked up along the way. Stazi, or Barnabas could just as easily step in and take up my place in the group. At least Barnabas could sing for them, inspire them. Or Stazi can be that slick one that gets them the win at the last second. What have I got? Frog legs. Fire sneeze. Hold the door. Summon a bat. Pfft. Useless. A flippin’ joke.
They take a deep breath in quickly and slowly let it out. Gotta push that thought down into the back of the head, push it into the blot taking root in Dabwick’s brain tissue. Whether the thought originated there or not, it is as good a place as any for these thoughts to be kept safe, preciously cared for…
And offered up to God.
First Reference: Chapter 94
Other Notable References: —