Chương 187: 11. I Don't Know Anything

"So this is what it looks like," Talla wonders as she takes in the sight of the dreamscape surrounding us. Not that there's really much to look at, since we're in a projection of our campground. Specifically, we're still inside of the tent, where we can see our own sleeping forms under the blanket and hear the gentle patter of rain against the canvas above us. This is the first time I've brought anybody other than Maev into my dreams—or rather, the others of Maev. The other Maevs?

I'm still not entirely sure how I should refer to them. Us. I'm still not used to thinking of myself as anything other than an outsider, despite my decision being recognized even by the Goddess' divine mechanism itself. [Evelyn: Tier 2 Human] [Class Slot 1: Tier 2 Incandescent Souls]* - Level 9/10 [Class Slot 2: Tier 2 Dreamwalker]* - Level 1/10 A subtle change—referring to myself by the name they gave me rather than the one I was born to.

To distinguish myself from who I once was—the same soul, but a different woman. I still resent the fact that I am human, even if it's true, and my lack of level progression is another source of frustration. Hopefully that will change during this trip, as I use the class for its intended purpose.

"As far as we can tell, the projection is accurate in real time," I explain.

"But its range is limited and tethered to our sleeping body." Lady Talla cocks her head, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. Thankfully, whatever effect of the shared dream that causes the rest of Maev to share our thoughts when dreaming together doesn't extend to her.

"It's definitely a clairvoyance skill, rather than spiritual projection," she muses.

"You said you have a spell that does almost the same thing, right?" I nod in agreement.

"That one is probably projection, then," she surmises.

"More dangerous, but without the range limitations—though there are some things that can detect and interfere with clairvoyance as well, so even this isn't perfectly safe."

"Demons?" I ask.

"Mostly," she agrees with a nod.

"It's rare anyway, and unlikely to be immediately fatal." Not as comforting as I'd like, but Lady Talla herself uses clairvoyant magic, so if she deems it safe, then I'll take her word for it.

"But you think it will share the same accuracy?" I press.

"I think so!" she replies excitedly.

"This is a great skill! I'm a little envious—my own clairvoyance spell is a little too heavy to use casually, but you've been using this on a regular basis, right?"

"Every night." She freezes up for a moment, then furrows her brow.

"Evelyn, that can't be right. Very few skills can perfectly eliminate the need for sleep, and even when they can it leads to magical strain. The mind needs rest!"

"Our body still sleeps," I point out.

"And I rest my mind during the day."

"If you say so," she says, though her frown tells me that she's still uncertain.

"Let's test the range, then." I hold an arm out, gesturing towards the tent flaps to allow her to lead the way. She accepts the invitation, but then pauses at the threshold, hesitating.

"Um... how do I...?"

"We can manipulate things freely," I explain.

"The changes won't be reflected in the real world, but they persist within the dream."

"Interesting," she muses, pushing back the tent flaps and stepping out into the rain. Following closely behind, we're met by the familiar sight of River, who is currently standing barefoot in the rain, wearing her usual pink nightgown and ridiculous helmet as she stares impassively up at the sky.

Her hair and clothes are soaked through, despite the fact that I know she can choose not to be affected by the weather, plastered to her face and skin yet somehow still managing to maintain a level of modesty that would pass Violet's standards. Well, perhaps not Violet's, but Allie's at least.

"You must be Reverie," Talla greets her.

"I've heard so much about you!" River's head slowly swivels to fix her gaze on Talla, cocking her head curiously.

"Must I?" she asks, eyes wide and sounding perfectly genuine in her inquiry. Lady Talla struggles for a moment in confused silence before I step in to rescue her.

"Don't mind her," I say.

"River can be odd at the best of times, and I think she enjoys leaning into it when people get confused."

"I see," Talla replies, frowning.

"And you used your skill to bring her into the dream as well?"

"No, I've never needed to," I answer.

"I was here first," River adds airily. Lady Talla looks like she's about to press further, then proves herself a woman of wisdom by simply shaking her head and moving on. Probably for the best, when it comes to Reverie. For all that she likes to speak about following the ebb and flow of dreams, she tends to have a talent for getting people caught up in her own.

"Dare I ask about the helmet?" Talla inquires. Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

"I'm an Armswoman," River answers simply.

"She levels up by wearing armor," I add with a sigh, answering the actual question.

"That works?"

"For three entire levels, so far," I confirm.

"Violet was livid about it for some reason." Ranting something about it being "worse than the cobweb throwing incident" which I gather to be from before I took a more conscious role. I can, with some effort, recall the things that happened before my awakening, but since I spent most of that time endlessly reliving my own demise, it's not something I like to dwell on.

"The trick is to wear it with intent," River supplies unhelpfully.

"Right, okay, let's scout a path up the mountain," Talla declares, changing the subject entirely. I can only sympathize. I don't think the others fully comprehend how ludicrous some of our abilities are, compared to common knowledge of classes and skills. After getting her bearings, Lady Talla leads us away from the camp towards a vantage point that she picked out during the day. I follow close behind while River pads along behind us at her own pace, apparently content to walk rather than hover for once.

"So, Evelyn, we haven't really gotten the chance to speak much, have we?" Talla asks conversationally.

"No, my lady," I reply.

"I regret how I behaved after our introduction. My distress does not excuse me, and so I can only beg your mercy and apologize." She misses a step and pauses to look askance at me.

"There's no need for that. You can just call me Talla, and drop all the formality."

"I would not dare, my lady. It would be improper for one without a clan to be so familiar with a lady of high nobility."

"That didn't stop you from turning the late Lady Shaa into dust," she notes sardonically.

"I haven't told anybody else about that, but there were other witnesses." I look up at her with a start. That's right—she witnessed the whole incident through her clairvoyance spell, didn't she?

"I'm surprised you waited so long to inquire about it," I admit.

"We were all still grieving what happened to Draga," she sighs.

"I suppose we still are, really, but I do have to ask how you did it. I won't be upset if it was chaos magic, I promise."

"Because you plan to dabble yourself?" I snap back, before biting my tongue.

"I apologize. Please forgive my lapse." Lady Talla stops in her tracks and turns to glare at me as I stare down meekly at my hooves.

"Evelyn, you don't need to worry over offending me," she admonishes.

"My best friend in the world was a clanless man, and while I recognize in hindsight that my status had a greater influence on that relationship than I realized, I hope that you can trust me not to intentionally wield it against you." I purse my lips. Perhaps, if she weren't so eager to pretend that her status didn't also come with responsibility, that best friend of hers would still be alive right now.

It may not offend her, but by subordinating herself to a man like Draga, she lowered the entire nobility in the eyes of her peers. How can she not understand that?! My thoughts are interrupted by a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"Ev..." River is there, as always, to pull me back from the brink before I can tumble down an endless spiral of dark thoughts. I pat her hand and smile gratefully before returning my attention to Talla.

"I understand that you bear us no ill will, my lady," I say.

"Yet my upbringing is not so easily overturned. I don't know that I'll ever be comfortable with the kind of familiarity you desire, but I will try to be less guarded." She nods slowly, accepting the compromise.

"That's fair. I suppose things were different two hundred years ago." Not as different as all that, in the ways she's thinking, but there's not much point pressing the issue now.

"To answer your question, it was not chaos magic," I explain, getting us back on track.

"In the spur of the moment, I crafted a spell making use of the most powerful skill from my old life."

"That healing spell you used back in the convergence point?" Talla asks.

"How in the world did that turn into something so destructive?" The answer to that question lies in the description of the spell I made. A terrifying thing that I almost regret having a hand in, if the sole recipient of its use hadn't been so deserving of it. [Disintegrate] Release the bonds of order with a touch, rendering a target down to their constituent elements. I'm afraid to show her, but she did promise not to be upset. When I do, she takes a moment to process it, frowning.

"Your healing skill, [Reverse Entropy], was an [Order] domain spell, rather than [Healing]," she muses.

"It undid injuries by restoring the body to a more orderly state."

"I defer to your scholarly expertise, my lady," I hedge, politely sidestepping the fact that I have no idea what she's talking about.

"My knowledge of the tools granted to me by the Goddess is limited to their use." That said, I think she will reach the same conclusion that I did, even if I arrived there from a very different way of thinking.

"In principle, the mechanism of the spell hasn't changed," Talla continues.

"Only the direction. [Disintegrate] causes injury by disrupting the orderly state of matter. In other words..."

"Its domain would be [Chaos]," I finish for her. She gasps sharply through her teeth, as if struck.

"Godshit!" Her eyes widen at her own curse, and she averts her eyes bashfully, coughing to hide her embarrassment.

"Er, sorry, I should watch my language in front of a priestess." She should watch her language under any circumstance. The Goddess doesn't need my eyes to witness impiety. I'm sure Lady Talla's study of theology is sufficient that she doesn't need me to remind her of that, though.

"It does seem to run afoul of church dogma, if true," I acknowledge. It's oddly freeing to say as much out loud. For most of my life, church and faith were one and the same. To question one was to question the other. If I had to thank Lady Shaa for anything, it would be showing me that those who profess to speak for the Goddess impose upon her the fallibility of mortals.

"Hundreds of years worth of magical theory, too," Talla groans." And it means that I embarrassed myself in front of the Alchemist. Again."

"Magical theory which was, until relatively recently, controlled entirely by the Church of the Great Wheel," I note. While I was alive, it was forbidden by law for anybody outside of the church to practice thaumaturgy. Exceptions were sometimes made for court sorcerers under the direct employ of the Empress, but even those were usually selected from among the clergy.

"You're taking this surprisingly well," Talla notes.

"Given the strength of your faith, I thought you'd be more shaken." I sigh.

"After a point, the world-shaking revelations simply become background vibrations. My faith has been tested constantly since my resurrection, and I think I gave Lady Shaa a very clear message on what I now think of church dogma."

"I suppose you did," Talla agrees, eyeing me cautiously.

"But still, if [Chaos] really is a domain of magic supported by the [World Engine] it calls into question much of what we know about the Goddess."

"Everything," I correct her gently.

"It calls into question everything we know about the Goddess." All the other tests to my faith are much easier to handle after accepting the fact that I don't know anything at all.