User:JohnB/Scotti's Revenge 3

A Brief Intermission

(Have you ever dreamed you were in Morrowind? No? Maybe you don't play enough. But that weapon in my hand had a definite solidity to it, and then--Poof!--it was gone. The Japanese call it Ukiyo the floating world, the unreality of reality. Where are the cherry blossoms that fell like snow last spring? Where will I be in 100 years?

"Yet I have often wondered why, given that at the time the dream is the reality, we make such a sharp distinction between our experiences when awake and when asleep. Can we be absolutely sure that the "dream world" is illusory and the "awake world" real? Could it be the other way about, or that both are real, or neither?

"...[D]reams are private experiences, whereas the world we perceive when awake is consistent with other people's experiences. But this is no help. I often encounter dream characters who assure me that they are real, and are sharing my own dream experiences. In waking life I have to take other people's word for it that they really do perceive a similar world to mine, but I cannot actually share their experiences. How am I able to distinguish a genuine claim from that made by an illusory character...? Nor is it any use pointing to the fact that dreams are often incoherent, fragmentary, and absurd. The so-called real world can often seem the same..."

Paul Davies, The Mind of God, p. 117)

YUMIYA MEETS HER MAKER:

After completing the airship quest for Louis Beauchamp, Yumiya descended the double stairway to the lower lobby of the Ald’ruhn Guild of Mages. There she saw a stranger sitting at one of the tables puffing a Turk-head Meerschaum pipe and writing on a notepad. She approached warily because she’d never met him, but she had a strange premonition that there had to be a very close relationship with him.

He was about average height and big-boned, which gave him a massive appearance. He had white hair flowing past his shoulders, a large nose, and blue eyes. He had a grandfatherly way about him, but he really didn’t look his age. He smiled readily and laughed loudly. They don’t have Kris Kringle in Vvardenfell, but if they did, this would be the one.

“Hello,” she said, “mind if I sit down?”

“Ah, Yumiya! Please do!”

She got in the chair very slowly wondering if sitting elsewhere might be a better idea.

“I don’t believe we’ve ever met,” she said uncertainly.

“No, as a matter of fact, we haven’t. I'm your maker, so I came here to have a chat with you. Actually, you’re the only person here who can see and hear me. All these others have nothing to do with me, so they’re staring at you because they think you just asked the table for permission to sit down.”

Yumiya glanced around, and one by one the others looked away as if minding their own business.

“How awkward!” she said looking uncomfortable.

“Oh, don’t mind them. I never much cared for those conniving busy-bodies. Anyway, I came to answer any question that might weigh heavily on your mind. You’ve been given a heavy responsibility, and I want to ease the mental burden as much as I can.”

She thought for a moment.

“Why am I me?”

"You know, my dear girl," he responded as if surprised by the question, "I've often wondered the very same thing about myself." He shifted uncomfortably on the chair that was a trite small for him. "If I may quote the French philosophe, Denis Diderot [from Will Durant's "The Story of Civilization", Vol. 9], 'Why am I what I am? Because it was inevitable that I should be.' It follows that somebody had to be you. I designed Laila Scotti to be a much more complicated personality, so I modeled you after a spunky dental assistant I know. Sorry you got cropped to S size, but Decumus needed to curl up at the foot of your bunk.”

“Can I trust him?”

“Why do you ask?”

“It was annoying that he was sharing my bunk because he tossed and turned as much as I did. But one darling thing he did was keep my feet warm. All I had was the clothes on my back and a thin blanket, so it was like an unspoken deal, ‘Keep quiet about my being here, and I’ll help you get some shut-eye.’ He didn’t have a blanket at all, but after we disboarded, I treated him rather shabbily, especially after he told me he was married.”

“Well, he didn’t lie to you.”

“No, but it’s the principle involved.”

“I’d advise you to watch the situation. It's his Mrs. who's going to compound his trouble in a way that can scarcely be believed. You see, he has one debilitating flaw: the expressions 'live-and-learn' and 'forgive-and-forget' don't exist in his vocabulary, and her pay-back will be an assayer's furnace that burns off his foolish pride. Then he’s going to need a friend in you. Where I come from, we have a moving picture named Casablanca in which it is said of Rick, 'He's as honest at the day is long.' The same can be said of Decumus.”

“But can I trust myself?”

“In what way?”

“Am I really the rightful heir to the throne of Akavir.”

“Maybe you are; maybe you aren’t.”

“What if I’m not?”

“Would it make any difference?”

“I guess not. The problem is everybody I know has a background. I know a few basic facts about myself, but it's as if my entire life starts in the Imperial prison. I have no idea how I got there.”

“Sorry, the fault is all mine. Your previous life draws a blank with me as well. I advise you to start creating your life here and now.”

“Am I strong enough to beat Dagoth Ur?”

“I have no doubt that you have all it takes to complete the quest successfully." He pulled out a gold pocket watch and glanced at it. "Well, I’ve got to head on back and add these notes to the story,” he said knocking his pipe against the heel of his boot.

“Wait! Just one more question: will I ever see you again?”

He looked at her a bit sadly.

“I’m afraid not, Yumiya. You are really like a daughter to me, so I wish I could stay here, but I can't. I will always look out for you and will see to it that no harm comes to you. And maybe this will help.”

He fumbled around in his pockets for a constant-effect “Fortify Luck” ring and slipped it onto her left ring-finger. It was set with a sparkling green peridot, his own birthstone.

"A bit of luck of the Irish," he jested.

"Excuse me?"

"N-nothing."

She smiled as she gazed at the pretty stone.

“Thank you,” she said softly and kissed him on the cheek.

He vanished, but this encounter galvanized her to live her life here and now.