"What’s the cost of knowing the truth? Sometimes, it’s more than you think you can pay."
Notty stood frozen, the memory of her mother’s laughter still echoing faintly in her mind, even as it slipped further away. The merchant’s glowing threads, now pulsing faintly with the essence of what it had taken, receded back into its form. She pressed a hand to her chest, the ache of something missing settling deep inside her.
“Is it always supposed to hurt this much?” she whispered, more to herself than to anyone else.
Ludikrousz stood beside her, his jaw tight, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “You shouldn’t have done it,” he said, his voice sharper than she’d expected. “I told you, Notty—this place doesn’t play fair. And now you’re letting it take pieces of you.”
Notty turned to him, her expression a mixture of defiance and sadness. “Do you think I don’t know that? But we need answers, Ludikrousz. If I don’t stop this thing, there won’t be any pieces of me left to save.”
He looked away, his frustration palpable. “You shouldn’t have to sacrifice everything for this.”
“And you shouldn’t have to keep saving me,” she countered. “But here we are.”
The merchant, still shimmering faintly, interrupted their argument with a sound like a sigh. “Mortal emotions,” it said, its voice a strange mix of amusement and pity. “So vibrant, so fleeting. Are you ready to hear the truth you’ve paid for, Dreamweaver?”
Notty exhaled shakily, turning back to face it. “Yes. Tell me what you know.”
The merchant raised a hand, and the air around them shimmered, the threads of the dreamscape weaving themselves into a tableau of light and shadow. A swirling image appeared, depicting a grand loom spinning threads of silver and black in an endless pattern. The threads writhed and twisted as if alive, their energy crackling with a sinister power.
“This,” the merchant began, “is the Loom of Shadows, the heart of the dreamscape and the source of the entity’s power. It is where your curse was spun and where it must be unraveled.”
Notty’s breath caught as she stared at the ominous loom. It looked ancient and alive, its threads pulsing with an energy that made her skin crawl. “How do I get there?” she asked, her voice steady despite the fear creeping into her chest.
The merchant tilted its glowing head. “The path to the loom is treacherous, fraught with trials designed to break even the strongest wills. The entity’s power grows stronger the closer you get, feeding on your doubts, your fears… and your memories.”
Ludikrousz crossed his arms, his expression skeptical. “That sounds vague. Do you have an actual map, or are we supposed to wander around until the nightmares swallow us?”
The merchant chuckled softly, a sound like wind chimes in a storm. “The path is not one I can show you, but I can tell you this: you must cross the Chasm of Forgotten Echoes to reach it. There, you will face the weight of what you’ve lost—and what you’re willing to lose.”
Notty frowned, her fingers tightening around the faint threads of magic that still glimmered in her hands. “What do you mean by ‘the weight of what I’ve lost’?”
The merchant’s light dimmed slightly, as though it were reluctant to answer. “The Chasm reflects the memories you’ve given away, amplifies the echoes of what you’ve surrendered. For one who has sacrificed so much, it will be… difficult.”
Ludikrousz’s voice cut through the tension. “Difficult? She’s already down a memory. How much worse can it get?”
The merchant’s glowing form seemed to flicker, its tone turning somber. “Worse than you can imagine. The chasm feeds on what was precious, on what defined you. It will test your resolve. Survive, and you may find the path to the loom. Fail, and the dreamscape will consume you.”
Notty’s chest tightened as the weight of the merchant’s words settled over her. “What happens if I don’t go?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.
“Then the curse remains,” the merchant said simply. “And the shadow will continue to unravel you, thread by thread, until there is nothing left.”
She swallowed hard, her hands trembling. “Then I have to go.”
“Notty…” Ludikrousz began, his voice filled with concern, but she cut him off.
“I don’t have a choice,” she said firmly, though her voice wavered. “If this is the only way to break the curse, then I have to do it. I can’t keep running from this.”
Ludikrousz’s jaw tightened, his frustration evident, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he turned to the merchant. “If she’s going, then so am I. What do we need to know about this chasm?”
The merchant inclined its head, its glowing threads rippling faintly. “Trust the echoes,” it said cryptically. “They will guide you—or they will deceive you.”
Ludikrousz scowled. “Great. More riddles. That’s exactly what we need.”
Notty couldn’t help but smile faintly, his sarcasm cutting through the heaviness of the moment. “We’ll figure it out,” she said, her voice steadier now. “We always do.”
As they left the merchant’s stall, the glowing threads of the dreamscape reappeared, faint but persistent. Notty followed them, her steps more confident now despite the unease lingering in her chest.
“Are you really okay with this?” Ludikrousz asked as they walked, his voice quieter now.
“No,” she admitted. “But I’ve already lost so much. If losing one more thing means I can finally stop this, then… it’s worth it.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I hate that you think you have to do this alone.”
“I’m not alone,” she said softly, glancing at him. “I have you.”
The words hung between them, heavier than either of them expected. Ludikrousz cleared his throat, his usual smirk returning, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Well, as long as you realize I’m only sticking around for the entertainment value.”
Notty laughed, the sound lighter than she felt. “Of course. How could I forget?”
The dreamscape shifted again as they walked, the vibrant colors fading into muted grays and blacks. The air grew colder, the threads around them flickering like dying embers.
“This must be it,” Notty said, her voice barely above a whisper. The path ahead narrowed, leading to a vast, gaping chasm that seemed to stretch into infinity. The edges were lined with jagged rocks, and the faint sound of whispers echoed from below.
Ludikrousz frowned, his eyes scanning the chasm. “Well, this looks inviting.”
Notty stepped closer to the edge, peering into the void. The whispers grew louder, forming faint, fragmented words that sent shivers down her spine. “I think these are… memories,” she said, her voice trembling. “The ones people have lost.”
“Great,” Ludikrousz muttered. “Because this place wasn’t creepy enough already.”
Notty turned to him, her expression resolute. “This is the only way forward. We have to cross.”
“How?” he asked, his tone laced with skepticism. “You can’t just jump into a void and hope for the best.”
She held up the faint threads of magic in her hands. “I think we have to trust these. The threads will guide us.”
Ludikrousz sighed, shaking his head. “I hate everything about this plan.”
“Me too,” she admitted, a small smile tugging at her lips. “But it’s all we’ve got.”
As they stepped closer to the chasm, the threads of magic began to shimmer more brightly, weaving themselves into a fragile bridge that stretched into the void. But as they prepared to cross, the whispers grew louder, and the shadows around them shifted. The air grew heavy, and a voice—cold and mocking—echoed through the chasm.
“Do you think you can escape me, Dreamweaver?” the entity’s voice boomed, sending chills down their spines. “This is only the beginning.”