Even
in the midst of all that madness, that still came as something
of a shock. The three dwar....midgets, I'm told they prefer the term
midgets. Anyway, the three of them had gathered together by the face
of the nomad, silently checking each other for injury and dusting
themselves down. Raven and Oak were arguing, well bickering really,
very much like rival siblings with a point to prove, or at least
that's how they sounded to me. Raven was banging on about the house
being 'something new', neither Warp nor Weave, which didn't make much
sense to me. It didn't make much sense to Oak either, judging by the
look on his face. I was sure they were about to come to blows when
the midgets spoke.
And
that was the
surprise. Not that they spoke, but that they spoke together: three
mouths intoned the words, but there was only one voice. Everything
they said, they said in perfect unison. It was very disorientating,
I can tell you.
“Once
upon a time,” they began, “Everything was very clear cut: what
was real was real, and belonged in the Warp. What was imagined
wasn't real, and it lived in the Weave. There was a very clear line
between the two states. Over the past century, that line has
blurred, quite dramatically in places, to the point that it has
become impossible to tell if some things are real or not!”
