As the King’s words resounded across the sky, light gathered before Lucy to form a familiar graph of a 3D plane. The three Axes stretched out in perpendicular directions, each one accompanied by a large, floating, glowing number. From them, it was easy to surmise at a glance what Lucy’s current alignments were:

  Ideation: 3

  Understanding: 5

  Rebellion: 2

  The number “5” beside the Axis of Understanding was larger and glowed brighter than the others, clearly indicating Lucy’s Primary Axis.

  “First, you shall update your alignments,” said the King. “The process is identical to setting your initial alignment. Simply move the alignment orbs to your new desired positions, keeping within the re-positioning limit indicated at the base.”

  Lucy glanced down at the base of the alignment plane. Just like when she had been setting her initial alignment, the base had a large number “10” atop its surface. Seeing this while recounting her recent success made this situation feel all the more like a “Level Up” moment in a role-playing game.

  She stepped up to the alignment plane, staring at the positions of the three alignment orbs. Truth be told, she hadn’t yet decided how she wanted to change things, but seeing the Axes before her again did bring to mind a question that had cropped up since last time.

  “Can I move the orbs backwards to get more points?” she asked.

  “Unfortunately, you may not,” said the King. “Influence is an additive property: once you have gained alignment along an Axis, you cannot take it away, for it has already been suffused throughout the Lattice of Dreams. The only way to reduce one’s alignments is by perishing within a Dream, but in that case, you will have no control over how your alignments are reduced.”

  “Because it’ll undo the last update to my alignments,” said Lucy, earning a nod from the King. Moving away from that train of thought, for experiencing that scenario was far down her list of priorities, she concluded that this meant there was no way to “re-spec” and reallocate alignments in the event she felt like she’d over-aligned on an Axis.

  But, to be frank to herself, she wasn’t sure why she was pursuing this question so deeply. It was good to have these details confirmed, but she didn’t feel like she’d made a bad decision with her initial alignments. She glanced at the number “5” glowing largely and brightly beside the Axis of Understanding, knowing that that hadn’t been a mistake.

  Or was it…?

  “If I end up having more points in a different Axis than before,” said Lucy, “will that change my Primary Axis? Is that allowed?”

  “That is a viable option,” said the King. “Your Primary Axis is always a consequence of your present alignments, and as long as you stay within the re-positioning limit, you are always free to realign yourself as you see fit. For many Dream Knights, this occurs commonly in the early stages of their adventures, as some may not be able to determine the most suitable Axis for themselves until they’ve amassed more experience. Other times, changing one’s Primary Axis may be necessary in order to acquire certain Feats, or to succeed in certain Dreams.”

  He put his robed sleeves together, his posture taking on a more solemn air. “However, there are some caveats to changing one’s Primary Axis. Because the Primary Axis is a key component to a Dream Knight’s identity, the Lattice of Dreams and the collective unconscious therein will require time to reprocess a different Primary Axis. Effectively, this inhibits a Dream Knight’s strengths and abilities for a period of time after changing their Primary Axis. Additionally, the shift places a great mental burden on the Dream Knight themselves. It is akin to changing one’s entire personality in order to fit an expectation they are held to by both themselves and all other people. Given enough time, one can grow accustomed to the change, but for some in certain circumstances, the cognitive disconnect can be too great an anguish to bear.”

  “That sounds like a very heavy decision, then,” said Lucy. And she meant this in contrast to the simple ease of physically moving the alignment orbs for Ideation or Rebellion to a higher position than Understanding. She had been hoping that she could, say, change her Primary Axis to Ideation, see how that panned out in the next Dream or two, then decide on whether to keep it or go back to Understanding.

  It had certainly been a tempting strategy, given recent experiences. If she’d had a higher alignment with Ideation earlier while falling through the sky, she would have been able to think faster and conjure up those cloud nets sooner, or come up with an entirely different but more effective approach.

  And, even earlier than that, when she was staring down the monstrous arms alongside Cole, perhaps she would have concocted the idea of grabbing one of the arms sooner, much much sooner…

  “You may now update your alignments,” said the King, gesturing to the alignment plane.

  Lucy nodded and stepped up. Before she had even realized it, she had the Ideation orb in hand, hovering over the seven-to-ten range on the Ideation Axis. Changing her Primary Axis would be as simple as placing the orb somewhere in that range. And the King had said this was a common thing to do for Dream Knights who were just starting out. All she had to do was place the orb there, and she would be able to make up for her tunnel vision and lack of ingenuity, which had clearly hindered her up until this point. She thought again about how Cole nearly drove her out of his Dream, about how that could have been avoided if she’d simply thought outside the box sooner, and soon her hand was reaching forward with the Ideation orb.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  And stopped.

  “It is akin to changing one’s entire personality in order to fit an expectation they are held to by both themselves and all other people.”

  Could Lucy convince herself and the rest of humanity that she was known for being quick-footed and quick-minded? She aspired to embody those qualities, not least because they would prove useful, but at the same time there was no denying that Lucy Lockhart, as she was now and had always been, was the slow, arguably sluggish girl who spent her time thinking about and mulling over the things that mattered to her most in the moment, even (and especially) to her own detriment. While a Knight of Ideation likely would have stumbled upon the solution to Cole’s Dream faster, Lucy, as she was, was always meant to take the longer, slower route of understanding Cole’s situation and eventually extrapolating from there. Like it or hate it, being honest with herself meant sticking to this truth about her personal qualities and working with it despite the difficulties.

  And so she placed the Ideation orb back for now, staring at it while wondering if this was what it felt like to stare so clearly at an alternate self one yearns for but couldn’t reach without significant sacrifices. The sun bore down stronger, as if to melt Lucy’s inescapable condition and forge it permanently into her soul.

  Sighing, she took the Understanding orb and moved it significantly higher. She followed with the Ideation Orb, and finally the Rebellion orb. Now, her updated alignments were as follows:

  Ideation: 5

  Understanding: 11

  Rebellion: 4

  “Excellent,” said the King. “You may now commit these alignments to your influence by raising your Ideal and thrusting its blade into the alignment plane’s Origin, just as you have done before.”

  As Lucy raised her sword arm, she found that her Ideal felt heavier than before. She looked at it, unsure whether the added weight came from some physical change to the weapon, or the hesitation and uncertainty weighing heavily in her mind. If she wanted to go back and change her alignments, all she had to do was bring her Ideal back down and re-position the orbs.

  But she didn’t do that, because she reminded herself she didn’t want to make any changes. It was always like this: waffling between different options to the point where she lost sight of what she actually wanted to do, whether it was second-guessing herself on a multiple choice test question, or deliberating on the words to say in the middle of a stifling conversation with her brother or a dear but now distant friend. At some point, she had learned that the clearest path forward—not necessarily the one that led to the best outcome, but the one that kept her out of this painfully indecisive and worthless state—was to pick one option and stick to it, no matter how stubborn she had to be.

  In this case, she stubbornly willed her arm to raise her Ideal again, and in the next instant the blade had pierced through the alignment plane’s Origin. Despite the blade lodging firmly, nothing happened: no glow from the alignment plane, no shimmering sound, no pure white light travelling across the sky.

  “Did…anything happen?” Lucy asked, hovering her hand over the sword handle, unsure if she should take it back out or wait in case there was a delay.

  “The alignment changes were not broadcasted,” said the King, “due to insufficient intentionality. Your conviction must be as sharp and certain as your Ideal’s blade when you thrust it upon your Origin. Do you require time to reconsider and decide on a configuration you are more confident in?”

  Lucy looked at him with her mouth agape, but then quickly shook her head. “No, no. It’s okay. I was just…overthinking and lost in thought. I’ll make sure to focus this time.”

  “Very well.”

  The King gestured toward the Origin and Lucy wasted no time stepping back up in front of it with her Ideal raised.

  This is what you want. This is what you are. Don’t second-guess yourself. Just go with it.

  She repeated this to herself over and over, consumed by her concentration and her intense desire to not get stuck in an indecisive state. When her Ideal’s blade lodged itself into the Origin once again, she waited with controlled, deliberate breathing. Every doubt, every worry that nothing would happen again, she took them and reforged them into frustration, frustration at the implication that she herself wasn’t sure what she wanted to be.

  Her eyes flickered to the Rebellion orb, to the Axis it rested upon, long and stretching to infinity. How nice it would be to rebel against what the universe was saying: that she was too poorly defined, too unsure of even herself, to take the next step. It stung, stung with a familiar pain from voices both external and internal. If she’d had a blade infused with Rebellion, she could cut those skeptics down to size and prove with all truth that they were wrong. All she had to do was realign the orbs, and to do that, all she needed was to reach forth and take back her Ideal…

  Her hand stopped just short of touching the handle. Before she could question what she was doing, the sword and the alignment plane glowed with pure white light. The shimmering sound of chimes rung out through the sky, and then the light dispersed far across the horizon in every direction.

  As the light disappeared into the distance, Lucy stared, dumbfounded, before looking at the numbers along the three Axes. They had changed to “5”, “11”, and “4”, matching the new alignments she had chosen.

  “They went through,” she said.

  “Indeed they did,” said the King, despite how Lucy hadn’t stated her words as a question. He regarded her for a moment longer, silently, and Lucy wondered if he had again been unable to scrutinize her, this time during that short moment before the alignment plane had lighted up. But then he said, in that even voice of his: “Now that you have experienced the first growth to your influence, we shall proceed to the Feat acquisition process.”

  The alignment plane faded softly into the sky. Once it had gone, the King swept his left arm, palm open and facing skyward, in a horizontal motion. Nothing happened, for a moment, then Lucy saw something shimmer out of the corner of her eye. From the direction of the King’s left arm, dozens of what appeared to be floating orbs floated over to fill the space between herself and the King.

  Bubbles.

  They were bright, sparkling, and, after settling into positions that hung in the air, flitted idly back and forth a few inches to give the slightest impression that they were alive, like little bundles of joy that couldn’t stay still. In their glistening translucent domes, they held what appeared to be a variety of miniature items along with small print.