"Wilder..." whispered a voice to the rhodonite—no, to its bearer. "My bearer of burden," the voice urged, pulling Wilder's sleep away from its normal dream cycle and into a realm wholly apart from the cave. A bright blue sky yawned above them and the air, warmed by Earth's sun, covered Wilder like a snug blanket. Gliding in to greet her was a barn owl who perched on a nearby branch; again, they were resting in the boughs of a wisteria grove.

Hume shifted to view her guest with a smile lighting her eyes.

"Oh, Wilder, guess what has happened?" she toyed, rustling her wings. "Well, it hasn't happened quite yet, but it will. Soon." The scenery around them shifted and they were in the caves, moving through them from Andromeda to Pegasus. Lyn's figure lifted its head from his resting pool as if to view them, but then the vision rippled away like the disturbed surface of water.

"You will find me, Bearer," her voice continued. "Do you know this place I have shown to you? This garden with the dragon father?"

Eyes blinked and everything shifted, from the realm of her usual dreams to something far more lucid and real. The sun that touched her fur was like a memory - different then that on the surface of Let, the air here tasted different then the wind of the Vaa, but to Wilder it was comfort. Peace. She didn't realize for a moment what it meant, thinking it was simply another dream.

But then...that voice. Whispering on the wind as she was pulled into this place, and her mind that had been sleeping moments before came awake and alive and she looked up, eyes wide and knowing. And there was Hume, perched on a branch in the grove of wisterias that Wilder thought about often. This was a memory, but it was also a dream and it was also real. The sky was not so shimmering and dream-like as before, but blue and bright, like a warm summer's day, although Wilder did not truly know what that meant.

"Hello!" she chirped as she uncurled. She was undisturbed by this sudden interruption to her everyday life - if anything, she felt excitement and a bright joy sparking through her veins. She had felt Hume's presence here and there throughout the caves, when she Wished, when she dreamed, but it had never been so present, not since she had spoken to her in the wistera grove and made her own wish. So seeing Her here, She whom Wilder loved and missed, was a blessing and a cause for quiet celebration. Her eyes gleamed as she looked up - there was no fear in her now, only a joyous anticipation.

"What is it?" She got to her feet. "Has something happened?" The images that were shown to her made her think. She furrowed her brow, trying to remember if she knew of such a place, if she'd been there. She didn't know the dragon-father but...oh! Arcturus told me about a place with a big white dragon and his daughter and her garden! She nodded. "Yes, yes I think I do! Are you there? Do I go to find you there?"

As Wilder came to, Hume chirruped in response to her words, thankful that cat did indeed seem to know the place shown to her.

"Something like that," the owl answered. "Time is not so linear for me, but a Visitor will be there soon—it is soon for you, at least. If you make your way to the dragon's garden you will see. Soon," she said, though she could not give an exact timeframe. "I wanted you to know. I wanted you to be the one to find me there."

"But how are you?" Hume asked, almost interrupting herself. They did not have much time in this stolen realm of dreams, and it was enough that she could even force the journey between magic and sleep and space. "Would that I could visit more; I hope you have been well."

She nodded, trying to understand. While she could not comprehend what it would be like for time to not be linear, she understood some - Hume could not be here in the way that perhaps they both wished she could be. She had mentioned a cloaked one before, and Wilder wondered if this was her Visitor. Oh...the one that had led them through the story, was that who she meant?

"Okay," she purred, putting any questions she had about it rest. She trusted the owl, she trusted that she would know all in time. "I will go there, then." She felt a warmth spreading through her heart, some unexplainable emotion taking root because Hume wanted her to be the first to find her. She, who was so far away, who had blessed the gembound with her light and her life even though she could not fully reach them, had told Wilder that she wanted her to find her first.

It was...Wilder could not think of any other explanation then deeply moving.

She wanted to cry from the pure delight of the moment, but she held her composure, not daring to even think about souring this moment. She wanted to cherish this. "Thank you," she got out instead, her voice quivering with the depth of her emotion. "For trusting me with that. I'll find you."

She nodded, sitting back and almost laughing from the casualness of what Wilder interpreted to be a god asking her about how she was doing. "I have been good. The Wishes - thank for those, by the way - I am trying to be...wise about it. Only when needed. I helped my friend, I think, helped him against a fear he had. And his mother knows a lot now. Maybe too much but I believe she will sort through it. It's what she wished for." She paused, blinking, suddenly wondering if Hume knew these things already. "Do you...know when I wish for things?"

The owl nodded and her cheeks lifted into what could best be described as a smile; golden eyes rested gently on Wilder as she nodded again. "Thank you, dear Wilder." There was so much more she could have said and conveyed, but she wasn't sure how. Thank you for living, for preserving, for finding a way to thrive in a nest that was meant for ill-mannered creatures—thank you for even existing against the norm of things, despite Rrevalk's wrath, and for fulfilling the wish that the centaur had hoped for.

Was it everything they had intended? Maybe not. But it was better than the nothing that was before. For some of them, it might not even feel that way, especially for the valkhounds still being created within the nest. It was enough to know it was possible and that it was happening. If anything, maybe it was a way forward, finally...

Wise. Hume hummed a sweet sound at the word.

"I appreciate your caution," she said, then shook her head at Wilder's question. "I do not know when or what you wish," answered Hume as she lifted a wing slightly, as if to wave a 'hand,' "but I trust your intentions mean well. That is what matters."

"Do you suffer your Enlightenment?" she asked, though she could not say she particularly liked the question herself. It would not be her intention to bring harm to others, but so it was; even her own Magnolet was dubbed madstone in some parts. These things had a cost, after all. The price came naturally.

The smile that Hume offered might as well have been the radiance of the sun upon this small feline face that had not seen it in years. Her thanks carried weight - more then Wilder could understand, but in a way she thought she did. She remembered her original wish, to bring Hume here, in any way, to spread the light she had offered them in Paradise. It had listened to her intention, but Wilder could not help think that Hume herself had intention within it. And Wilder liked to think she was carrying out that intention well.

She was begin good and kind, and she was helping, even if just a little.

Wilder nodded, a soft, happy trill leaving her throat. "Okay. Thank you for trusting me." It was a strange thought, to think that this power that had been granted was hers, not Hume's. She had originally thought that she was simply a messenger, a conduit for her wishes. Wilder wishes and Hume answers. But if Hume did not know...then did that magic come from her?

Amazing. It didn't change anything, to know this, not really, but Wilder might have to think about it a little bit to really come to terms that she actually had that power.

The joy in her expression slowly melted away a bit, however, at the mention of her suffering. She was quiet for a moment, thinking, remembering, and then nodded. "Yes, a little bit. But...its like you said. Cost affords benefits - what I suffer is nothing compared to what I can give. So, you don't have to worry about me. I can handle it." It was almost childlike, the way she raised her head proudly, as if to physically display her "toughness" for this situation. She did think she had been handling it well. It was a burden at times, but a burden she was confident she could carry.

Hume expected Wilder's answer on some level, so to hear that she was suffering at all saddened her. Even if it only was "a little bit" it was more than she would have wished upon anyone; but, then, that was the catch. Wishing. Enacting intention. Manifesting the will of oneself or even that of a greater purpose—it all had drawbacks.

But Hume nodded anyway. What Wilder suffered was nothing compared to what she could give, the little cat said. The owl chirped a quiet, happy sound. I can handle it. Two like-minded spirits. It didn't matter what the fates had thrown at her, Hume liked to think she could say the same. Well, almost anything. She did have preferences, but doesn't everyone?

"That's good to know then, thank you," she said sweetly, confident that Wilder was being honest with her, and confident still that Wilder could handle it, even if she might have been putting on a brave face for Hume. There were certainly worse outcomes.

The sky above them began to shimmer, drawing the owl's attention to it briefly; when she looked back to Wilder, she shrugged her wings. "Time's almost up. Anything I can do for you while we are still together, Wilder?" she asked, though there wasn't a lot she could actually offer. If she could, though, she'd like to try.

"Oh, and for what is to come: you will know more when you get to the dragon's garden. When the time is right, the knowledge will find you," she added quickly with a wink. Just like you will find me.

Wilder nodded, knowing that it was confidence and not simply a strong face. The drawbacks were a weight on her, but it was a weight she'd learned to carry and felt she was better for it. She wondered, then, if Hume had her own consequences as well - was that why she was trapped on Earth?

That word again. Hume had spoken it first to Wilder, and then spoke it again. Proof that this all was real, not a dream. Not that Wilder had thought of any of this as a dream for a very long time.

Her attention, too, was drifted by the shimmering in the sky. She blinked, wondering, and then looked back to the owl, her purr still rumbling softly in her chest even as a drop of disappointment passed across her face. Time was up already? But it had only been a few minutes... "Oh, okay. Well, thank you...for taking the time you could to talk to me."

And then that big question, was there anything else Hume could do now, for Wilder. And it was a question that had been burning within her for so long, but she never could pin a solid answer to. Of course there were so many things Wilder could ask for from Hume, but what could she grant? The end of suffering? The rebirth of Let? Knowledge on what they all were, why they were here? What single thing could she possibly ask of a god?

But the answer that came to her was so humble, in the grand scheme of things, to Wilder at least. No questions of cosmic purpose or existential burdens - perhaps she'd had enough of those for now. She was quiet for a moment, as she thought and landed on it, and then asked - "Can you...tell me what Earth is? You've mentioned it a few times - that's where you are, right? That's where we are now. Where is it? Or...if you don't have the time to answer that, is there someone I can ask about it?"

Hume nodded at Wilder's thanks; if only they could have more time together, or see each other more often—but there were too many variables for Hume to promise time to anyone, especially a cat living in an entirely different solar system than her own. To travel that distance, even on her magic and even in dreams, was taxing enough.

The question had her tilting her head. Oh, Earth? This silly old thing? Gladly—but the additional to Wilder's inquiry had the owl tilting her head the other way.

"I'll tell you about Earth," she said, "But now you have me interested. Of whom would you ask after?" For Hume, that was new and possibly exciting. And as much as she loved her ward of a planet, she was eager to delve into the things her interests could be piqued by.

"But first, Earth: It is a planet, so it is much larger than the moon you reside in. The size would not be comprehensible for you, I think. There are land masses called continents with large, fathomless bodies of waters between them called oceans." She nodded, and gestured vaguely to the wisteria grove. "Yes, this is one of my favorite places, although this is more like... my memory of it. We are not corporeal here in your dream. On Earth there are many humans and animals. The humans go through a phase where they evolve and create an absurd amount of technology—it's frustrating! I have to adapt to so many new things," she said with a laugh.

"But there are all sorts of places. Mountains, valleys, deserts, and cities. The humans build these large areas where they gather to live and work," explained Hume. "Some parts are nicer than others, like anywhere else. That doesn't change between places. Some humans keep cats like you as pets, and dogs too; rabbits, birds, sometimes other creatures, too."

She paused here and shrugged.

"There is much to say about it. The humans are my charges and Earth my ward. Maybe I can try to send you dreams here and there about my favorite places and things," she offered, though she could not promise this. And because it was eating at her...

"Now, this someone...?"

Wilder paused, trying to think if there was anyone else that might know about Earth in these caves. But, when she thought of the greater powers that she knew of, she couldn't imagine many of them entertaining her questions, giving her straight answers, or even having the knowledge she asked after. So she shrugged. "Oh, I wasn't sure if there were others here that knew of Earth of not. The Visitor, but they never...stick around long. Or the dragon you mentioned, but from what I know he is from here. I didn't know if there were any others in this place that knew you." Knew her more then Wilder did, more then anyone. Perhaps she could catch the Visitor before he was gone and ask.

But, in the meantime, Wilder drank in Hume's words, imagined each and every thing she described, tried to imagine a world like the surface of Let, but bigger, more vast, filled with humans and animals living together. No valkhounds in sight, no Order spreading its fungal tendrils across the sky. Settlements, like what she had seen in the Let stones, but bigger. Mountains farther then the Vaa could ever dream. It was like a warm, sweet drink for her mind, starved of the beauty of true freedom. A temporary cure, for the heartache, that she could at least carry with her. "It sounds wonderful," she purred, softly. "I wish I could see more of it. I don't hate the caves, but ever since I saw the skies of Let I've felt...trapped. Earth sounds amazing." She nodded at Hume's offer, purring louder. "I would love that. But only if you can. I know it must be...hard to reach me."

And that was another thing that was eating at her. In these last moments they had, a faint look of confusion passed across her face as she thought about it, and voiced her question aloud - "Hume, before you go, can I ask...why us? We are so far from you and Earth, and you can't be here, so why care about us? You said your magic gives us life, but why?"