The shadows swallowed all, and I opened my eyes to the sight of a tree in the darkness. Tall and looming, a thing of many patchwork parts. It burned, it died, and it bloomed all at once. Ever-shifting. Ever-changing. Here, where nothing was constant, the tree became all that it is, will be, and once was, all at the same time.

I stared at the Singing Tree and the man that leaned against it.

He had a cloak and two necklaces, one a bulb of glass and grass woven over ragged thread, and another of aged wood and silver string. Shadows covered his face. Silver eyes stared at me from within the darkness of his hood.

I met my eyes.

The Traveler looked back.

“Heyo,” he said, and I felt the amusement dance in his eyes. “You don’t look surprised to see me here.”

“I had my suspicions the moment I materialized my first glamour,” I said, looking around the darkness. As always, Avnlasce was a wasteland of nothingness, stretching infinitely into the dark. And in that stark blackness, only the Singing Tree stood. I turned to the Traveler with an accusatory stare, “You hijacked my weave.”

“Hijacked is a strong word. I’m more a tenant, you know. And I pay my rent.”

The Traveler motioned around us, and I felt his presence blanket the void. Like always, he suppressed my presence. Kept me hidden from the leviathans in the dark. I glanced at him.

“You’re different from last time.”

He laughed, and I saw a smile curl inside the shadows of his hood. A line of shark teeth scythed into a grin, “Heh. Was it obvious? That guy’s gone, and I’m who he became after he poofed. I’m me now. We’re we.”

“Where’s Aami?”

A shrug.

“Dunno. Didn’t bother to look. She’s about, I’m sure. But more importantly than that—” he said, walking away from the tree to stand next to me. The Traveler put an arm over my shoulders. “We got a lot to talk about, buddy-o.”

I started walking away from the tree.

“Then let’s talk,” I said, my eyes moving over the blackness. “We can do it while I look for her.”

“Cold of you to ditch me when I’m the one keeping you safe. I could just let you leave without following, you know. And then you’d die. The big guys’ll eat you until you’re even less than Nameless.”

“Will you leave me to die, then?” I asked.

Silence. I nodded and kept walking.

“That’s what I thought. So come on. Join me before I get eaten, ‘buddy-o.’”

After a few moments, the Traveler walked up beside me and rolled his eyes, “You’re not showing a lot of gratitude for the guy who taught you how to play. Did that Vivian lady replace my role of mentor so quickly?”

“You said it yourself, the Singing Tree’s original voice died. You’re not him. You’re just a passenger hitching a ride on my body now.”

“M’afraid that’s what all Names are, bud. Although I’m a little more special than most.”

“So what does my special Name want to talk about, then?”

“I want to sort out a trade between the both of us, s’all.”

“Vivian told me to be wary about making those.”

“’Course she did. But you’re going to make one with me anyway. I’m out to help you, you know. I’m here to offer you some much-needed help.”

I stopped walking and gave him a long stare. Whoever he was, he was a part of me now. I felt it between us—like a thread made of the hardest adamantium. An unbreakable link that connected us in all the ways that mattered. Every time I looked at him, I felt like he would never do anything to go against me. That he would only act in ways that would benefit me.

And that was why I heeded mother’s advice.

Never trust what you think.

“If you’re really a part of me,” I said, “then you mustknow how suspicious you’re being. You sound like a back-alley chemist offering me a hit of bliss. You don’t really expect me to agree, do you?”

“’Course not. At least not instantly. You’re a stubborn little bastard, me. But I’m in this for the long run, building trust one little brick at a time. We’re going to be really good friends, you and I. We know it. And as my first gesture of good will…”

He waved his hand, and I felt the darkness rush past us. We traveled far. Farther than I could comprehend. Here, where there was no measurement for distance, we traveled an infinity with every step. In the distance, I saw a light appear.

A blot of whirling colors. Senses. Memories. Bright and happy.

And it was being chased by a swarm of nothingness.

The Traveler put a hand on my shoulder, “…I’ll take you to your friend before she gets eaten out of existence by her own kind, yeah? Let’s go save her.”

He didn’t need to tell me twice.

I was already moving.

My bansuri roared out Galesong—the strongest I’d ever channeled at once. It sent me blurring forward at a speed that made me feel like the world was stretching against me. In the distance, I saw Aami run, but she was heavy. She was weighed down by the weight of her own existence.

She couldn’t run as quickly as her siblings, who carried nothing. I saw two of them lunge for her.

And I tackled Aami out of the way.

I crashed into her and the two of us tumbled away from danger. We rolled. Stopped. I hurriedly raised my bansuri, expecting another attack, but none came. I stared at the blots of nothingness registering in my senses. They cowered, shivering, trying to become smaller.

And they were cowering in front of the Traveler.

“Yeah, that’s right, you little rascals. Know me, do you? Good,” he said, glaring at each of them. “Scram!”

The invisible shoggoths scattered, worbling away in gurgling shrieks. And beside me, Aami tilted her mass in confusion, her eyes flicking between me and Traveler in curiosity.

“There are two Rowans now,” she said. “That’s weird. And nice.”

“I’m the real one, though,” I said, and she worbled, crawling up to attach herself to my back like she usually did. Aami wrapped a pair of tentacles over my shoulder.

“Hello, real Rowan! Thanks for saving me. My siblings are mean.”

“They were trying to eat you. Is mean really the right word?”

She shrugged, “They were hungry. I know how it feels, so I’m not really mad. Who’s the other Rowan? Rowan two?”

The Traveler walked up to both of us, shaking his head. “No, I’m apparently the Rowan-that-gets-no-gratitude. Taking all the credit when I did most of the work, eh, me? I’d be angry if I wasn’t so damn proud.”

“You’re going to be paying rent, remember? Consider this your down payment.”

“Eh, I’ll take it. A thanks would be nice, though.”

“Thanks, Rowan two!”

“You’re just an adorable little thing, aren’t you? I can see why I like you.”

“Hehe, I like this Rowan too, Rowan. We should keep him. He says nice things.”

“When we get out of here, I’m going to have to teach you about suspicious people,” I said, shaking my head. I turned to the Traveler and nodded his way, “But still—even if you’re doing this for your own benefit, thanks. You helped. I’ll at least give your offer a listen.”

“Atta boy,” he said, grinning. The Traveler waved his hand again, and we zipped through the darkness. When we stopped, we were back. Back to the Singing Tree. He took a seat in front of it and smiled, “I don’t ask for much, chief. Helping you still means helping me. We’re one and the same now, after all. So I’ll teach you. I’ll help you learn things that few people ever get to learn. In exchange, I ask for one thing. Three favors. Three kindnesses.”

I frowned, “You’re being vague about a lot of these conditions. I don’t know what you can teach me; I have no metric of knowing if this is worthwhile. And I don’t know what those three favors will cost me, either.”

“Not much, chief. All I ask is that you save three people.”

“Who?”

“Forgot. I may sound chipper, but I’m a fraction of what I was before, you know. All jumbled and messed up. But I’ll know the people you’re meant to save when I see ‘em.”

Aami slithered over my shoulder, “Saving people sounds nice.”

“That it does, Aami-girl. Good to know you got a heart of gold like I do.”

At their exchange, I crossed my arms. “That still doesn’t answer the other half of my question. What exactly do I get out of this? Trades are meant to be equal, but these seem to all be your terms so far.”

“Bleh. Fine, then. You ask me what I can teach you, but a demonstration’s always better, eh? I’ll give you a freebie, chief. Just ‘cause I like me so much. Ask me anything.”

“Tell me what your Rule is.”

He grinned, “I don’t got one, chief. I ain’t a weave. I just let you use me like one. Still, I got my own set of values, and I reserve the right to say no when you try to go against them. And that brings us to our second topic!”

The Traveler stood and walked over to me. He pressed a gloved fist to my chest.

“I’ve been hijacking your weaving to get better, but now that we’ve finally talked, we can get to making you a weave for real. How does that sound, eh?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “This isn’t going to make more of you, is it?”

“Hah! Nah. There’s only one of me, chief. This one’ll be a proper weave. Nice and obedient. Which isn’t to say I ain’t looking out for you. I’m just free-spirited, so I’ll help you make one that suits us both! Nothing limiting like that Vivian lady’s crude way.”

He opened his fist, and inside it was a pitch-black string. A line of void, wriggling lightly on his palm. The Traveler passed it to me.

As soon as I touched it, I knew.

I could make this into anything. It was non-matter. Non-anything. It was a piece of pure existential material that could be molded and shaped into anything that I wanted—far more flexible than the frayed, multicolored threads I usually worked with outside of Avnlasce. Those tore and gave away when I wove them into a glamour. They were unstable and weak to change.

But this piece of thread wouldn’t snap for anything.

The Traveler stepped back and grinned at what he handed me.

“That right there’s a string of finest make. Nothing’s better building material than the threads of reality in this gloomy place. Keep it. Take it. And when you’ve got the time to make it into a mask proper, show me a weave that’ll make us proud of us.”

He spread his arms to the side.

“And I know this ain’t enough for you, chief. You’re a greedy bastard like that. So I’ll give you the deal-maker. The offer you can’t refuse.”

I stared at him and a slow chill numbed the tips of my fingers. It made heartbeat slam against my chest as soon as I realized one thing: this person, whoever he truly was, had had me in the palm of his hands. He knew it. I knew it. That smile told me everything I needed to know.

From the start, he knew I was going to accept.

And now he was going to show me why.

The Traveler opened his hand and light blossomed over his palm. A ball of color and warmth. As soon as I saw it, I saw red leaves and a hill in the summer. I smelled the scent of wet earth and fresh grass. I heard the sound of the wind, the clinking of glass, and the ring of hammer against steel.

I saw the image of a rowan tree in the summer.

My Name.

The Traveler smiled knowingly, holding it just out of my reach. “Now, this isn’t the whole thing. Just a part. A small piece I managed to nab before the Fae managed to take it all. Remember the tips of your hair growing white as a kid? That was me, chief. That was us getting ready. And now…”

He stepped forward. Closer. He held his hand out for me to shake, the fragment of my name shining brightly over his palm.

“…Now you get it back. If you accept the trade. Three lives. Three people saved. And for it, you gain my knowledge. My power. And most importantly—a piece of who Rowan Kindlebright is. What do you say, chief? Worth the trade?”

I stared at his hand. At the memories. The colors. The lights. And behind me, Aami shifted uncomfortably. She squeezed me, “I don’t like this other Rowan anymore.”

But I wasn’t listening. I wasn’t thinking.

I just moved.

My hand closed around his. My Name sunk into me. Filled me. And suddenly, the world was a little brighter. A little more colorful. The hole that the Fae tore into me filled, ever so slightly. And then I was Nameless no longer.

I was Rowan Kindlebright once more. Even if just a fraction of him.

The Traveler met my eyes with his wide, wide grin.

“Pleasure doing business with you, chief.”