Zebulun woke in mid-morning. He hadn’t slept past dawn in decades. He sat up, stretched, and looked around.
The others slept still. Quinn snored. Sarah slept peacefully across the fire pit from him, Kulth-Ing standing vigilant over her. Zebulun nodded to the cat, who chuffed and bobbed his head.
Zebulun knelt before the fire. The coals were cold. He set up tinder, kindling, and a log, then reached for his flint.
A point of light appeared before him, expanding into the form of a nude woman no larger than a thumb. She had blue skin and butterfly wings.
"Bluebonnet, right?" asked Zebulun.
The fairy nodded, smiling, her eyes squinting. She held up her hand to him, then turned it towards the fire pit. A beam of invisible light streaked from her tiny hand to the wood, causing the air to shimmer and the wood to burst into flame.
"Neat trick," said Zebulun. "Thank you."
Bluebonnet nodded, smiling, and vanished.
"It’s a wonderful trick," said Sarah, stretching, "I wish I could learn it. Magery, they call it. They say it’s the same thing that dragons use to set things on fire."
"They don’t breathe fire?"
"Apparently not."
Seeing Sarah awake, Kulth-Ing sauntered off. Davion and Quinn woke within the hour. The four discussed their experiences over breakfast.
"Oh, me first!" said Quinn. He told them of Paradise, and its unhappy ending.
"Sounds like a cautionary tale against hubris," said Davion.
"Yeah," said Quinn. "Glad I ain’t got any of that. I never understood how some people can be so nice to some and so mean to others." Quinn was quiet for a moment, then sat up and whipped his head to gaze at Davion. "What about you? What did you see?"
Davion told them of Mycenae, the cyclops, and the things he’d learned.
"Neat! Do you think your dream-knowledge is accurate?" asked Quinn.
"I don’t know," said Davion. "The theories and equations seemed to make sense. I need to experiment — to test what I learned against reality."
"Sounds boring!" said Quinn. "But you have fun. I am curious to know how it works out." He turned to Zebulun. "What about you, Zeb? You meet any dragons or cyclopes?"
"No," said Zebulun. "I met gods."
Zebulun told them of the labyrinth, the temple, and his traversal of the planes.
"Wow," said Quinn. "I think that story has mine beat."
"Mine as well," said Davion. "I find it fascinating — I would love to visit this mental plane of yours — but do you believe it?"
"I do," said Zebulun. "I have no choice."
"No choice?" asked Davion. "Aren’t you the least bit skeptical of the things strange potions tell you?"
"I believe what I experience," said Zebulun. "It’s different at the apex: The Absolute. At the border of being and non-being, everything becomes clear."
"I would love to experience that," said Davion. "You’ll understand if I remain skeptical?"
"Of course," said Zebulun. "I would be, in your place."
"Fair enough," said Davion.
Zebulun stood up and slung his bow. "I’m going hunting."