In Chapter 129, while Dabwick meditated in the Starling‘s crow’s nest, they recalled the night Skywin asked them to join her voyage:
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Dabwick occasionally takes meditation in the crow’s nest when it’s alright with the Captain, and today is one of those days. They gaze out over the river and allow their mind to drift. They’re preparing to scry Lowls again tonight and Dabwick is wondering just how close to Cassomir he is. Is he there already? And the thought makes Dabwick’s skin crawl. Cassomir with a Lowls in it!
But, no, wait: he can’t be that far ahead. Not yet. But wherever Lowls is… with or without him, I’ll be in Cassomir again before long. Back home.
Home again. Could it be? After all these months away? The Starling set sail back in Erastus . By the time their journey ends, it may be as late as Calistril–getting on to 7 or 8 months since Dabwick said goodbye to their City.
How are the renovation efforts in Admiral’s Fen coming along, I wonder? Foundation walls kept sinking into the swamps and Dabwick had joined themselves up with a survey team preparing the area. By now, why the work may be all but done!
And the disturbing gatherings of stray dogs in Abbey Green. Dabwick didn’t have time to deal with that issue. Poor things were probably euthanized in the end.
And of course there were a hundred other projects Dabwick had tried to keep their eye on or have a hand in, all over the City, and they all had to be left unattended for the better part of a year. Would they all be finished by the time Dabwick got back? Would the City and its systems even need them any more? They were going back…
But can you ever really “go back?”
It’s a thought almost too big to consider.
Why’d I even leave in the first place…?
Dabwick remembers.
The night Skywin asked Dabwick to join the voyage came during a period of faint but unsettling dreams. Visions of something they couldn’t quite place. A Conglomerate City, intricate and intimate. After these dreams, Dabwick would try to remember: what inspired those images? And why did they carry a faint hint of sadness alongside the inspiring awe they evoked?
Skywin had been so busy at that time. She was preparing to make the Sellen Passage, which took exhaustive planning. For the most part, Dabwick only saw her when she made her weary appearance at the end of every day to crash on the pallet always prepared for her, in a corner of Dabwick’s flat in Grayguard's Shadow. After a decade, their two lives had become deeply entwined–between Dabwick’s dedicated life on land and Skywin’s on the water, the arrangement they shared suited them well.
Skywin had never invited Dabwick on a voyage before, however, which made her request all the more unique.
It came on a hot Starday night. Being indoors of an evening during Cassomir’s muggiest, swampiest season wasn’t always the pleasantest, but they had a ritual: no matter how busy they got, they always ate together on Starday night. Rituals are important, especially to people who love routines as much as they did.
Knowing there might not be many (or any?) Stardays left before Skywin set sail, Dabwick had laid out a grand spread of dried kelp, cheeses, fish paste, nuts, berries, rootmouse, and a gallon jug of Brother Bannon’s brown ale. Even though Skywin had made the Sellen Passage before, to Dabwick, the 2,000 mile roundtrip journey always sounded like such a Grand Adventure. Something worth celebrating!
But when Skywin entered their little home, there was a faint shadow hanging over her head. She was trying to ignore it, but still… it was there. This was odd enough, but what was even odder was that she’d brought Jaydove with her.
Jaydove. A local leather artisan. Something of a recluse, despite producing the finest work around. A human woman of middle age who Dabwick knew, but was not friendly with. Something made Dabwick keep their distance. Perhaps it was the rumors about her dreams?
But she was Skywin’s friend, and if Skywin wanted her there, then Jaydove was an Honored Guest! Dabwick cast a simple spell to get the air flowing in their cozy flat as the three sat at the table.
Dabwick: My dear friends, a toast!
Skywin: To you, Dabs! Our generous host!
Dabwick took a short bow and they all sipped their beer. The pause that followed wasn’t exactly awkward. But close enough.
Skywin: So, Dabs–I have a proposition for you: how would you like to travel with me for once? You’re always such a rapt audience when I tell you of my journeys–imagine being on the Starling, with me by your side, showing you all there is to see! Think of the Adventure!
Dabwick: Skywin, love, easy. Sudden decisions are not my strong suit and there’s much to attend to here before I entertain joining you on one of your little deliveries.
Skywin: Ah, but I’m not talking about a local shipment, Dabwick. I’m speaking of a voyage or two or three seasons.
Dabwick: The Sellen Passage.
Skywin: That’s right.
Dabwick: Hang on–spend the better part of a year on the river? Oh, that’s too long! What am I supposed to do with all my projects and concerns?
Skywin: What are you afraid of, Dabwick?
Dabwick: Afraid? I’m afraid of what might happen to the City while I’m gone! You know what it’s like here, day-to-day, there’s a million stories happening in this City!
And for the first time, Jaydove spoke.
Jaydove: But what of your story, young one?
Dabwick: My story is tied to the City!
Jaydove: This City was strong enough to survive before you came along. It may again survive without you for a time, just as you may survive without the City to keep you busy. Besides, there is more to Understand than Cassomir.
Dabwick: What do you know about Understanding?
Jaydove closed her eyes. A lifetime’s worth of cares and concerns passed over her face in a moment.
Jaydove: I Understand that sometimes dreams are True.
And Dabwick saw, in their mind’s eye, the Conglomerate City.
Jaydove: I Understand that we cannot sit still. I Understand that pain and uncertainty are, sometimes, necessary parts of our life’s journey. I Understand that in order to find something… first it must be lost to us.
Dabwick: Jaydove, forgive me, but I don’t know what you’re saying.
Jaydove: The Great Dreamer visits us in many different forms. A resplendent star. A delicate butterfly. A cloud. An impulse. An idea. She leads me, nightly, through an endless forest, on a hunt for what I lost, all those years ago. She comes to me as a dove. It’s why I took this name. Perhaps she comes to you, now, in the form of your friend. Please, heed her–
Skywin: All right, Jaydove, now that’s enough. Don’t be spooky. Let me lay it out for you, Dab: I’ve been trying to recruit additional folk to help keep ship and, if necessary, lend a hand in a fight. Jaydove has… seen something and says friends will be necessary on this run. Knowing how hard it would be for you to leave home, I… well, to be honest… I came to you last. But, the truth is… you’re now my last hope. Many dangers lie ahead in the coming months, and I would be grateful to have a halfling of your wisdom and power by my side.
Jaydove, her eyes still closed, reached out and took Dabwick’s small hand in hers.
Jaydove: You decide the Story of your dream, young one. Dreams aren’t good, or bad. They are simply… magnificent. Tell yourself a tale of Adventure. New Landscapes. An Unforgettable Journey. And what is not Real… will become True.
Dabwick quaffed the rest of their ale and took it all in. A friend in obvious need came asking for help. And just when they were thinking there was more to do in Cassomir than could ever get done, now they imagined a life on the river, telling a new story of Dabwick’s Great Journey.
And Jaydove’s advice stayed with them. The trip north took months, but it was so exciting! The fear of leaving home turned gradually into a desire to Understand more. And just as Skywin seemed to lose that shadow hanging over her from whatever Jaydove had told her about her dreams, Dabwick did too.
Because Dabwick simply could tell themself a story about the dreams they’d been having, and the dreams would transform. Just like Jaydove said. They could decide the meaning. So Dabwick decided that what they were seeing in their dreams was Important. That the streets and towers, overlapping and twisting on each other, swelling and bulging and glowing, were full of Balance and Understanding…
Dreams seem so important when they’re happening. And they seem so insistent when you wake.
But what is a dream, really?
All those lives lost in Arventon… did any of them matter? That whole City… petrified. All the inter-harmonious relationships… all the arteries and systems… destroyed. And the Spirit of the City twisted into something so malevolent…
If dreams can be whatever we tell ourselves about them… then what does that make them?
Doesn’t it actually make them a Lie?
If the death of Arventon doesn’t really matter… if the Great Conglomerate City is really Carcosa… and hope is nothing but a tenuous thread slipping through their grasp then, then–
Dabwick is back in the crow’s nest looking south.
They breathe out and mutter to themself: “Shoooo-ee Dabs. Buck up.”
First Reference: Chapter 129
Other Notable References: —