Dimensional Descent

Through some roundabout methods, Leonel managed to find the location of the Dwarven Bubble's Dream Pavilion. He changed his appearance again and let Aina enter the Segmented Cube. At the moment, he looked like a Sprite of average appearance, standing around five feet tall with a pair of translucent wings and skin that was just barely the faintest touch of green.

Was it a bit ballsy to go to the heart of a Dream Force capital with a disguise formed by Dream Force?

Of course.

Did he care?

Not at all.

Travel between the cities of the Dwarven Bubble was especially lax and the security was even more so. In fact, by the time Leonel got to the city that held the Dream Pavilion, he had realized that it wouldn't be difficult to join at all. All he had to do was take a small test that only had the requirement of reaching the necessary bar for affinity.

The test for Dream Force in Complete Worlds, or more accurately ones that met a necessary standard of quality, were quite benign. They had special formations designed to pull those with improper Dream Force affinity out of a helpless state before they fell into an endless spiral of their own memories.

The prerequisite for this formation to work, though, was for the user to have adequate Soul Force affinity.

For Leonel, this test was obviously easy and he didn't waste any time entering the Dream Pavilion. He didn't have the time to waste even if he wanted to.

He had to find a way to either become the new Dream Pavilion Head, or secure himself a spot on the roster to contend against the Nomads, or else all of this would be for naught.

Logically, there was no reason for a Dream Pavilion to pick him out of the numerous seasoned disciples, so he had to carve out his own path, and for that he had his own ideas.

He had already released the bait, he just had to wait for a bite.

...

Aerin spent everyday like he was walking on a bed of nails. He tried to keep his steps as light as possible, and yet his own weight was what did the most harm to him.

Although he had survived, he couldn't stop himself from thinking about what was going on. But the Dwarven Race was too isolated for him to get any solid information. There had to be a better way...

But if he stepped out again, wouldn't he just be throwing himself to the wolves once more?

However, today, he really couldn't sit still.

His father had come to confront him about leaving, something that he thought he had hidden perfectly. But apparently, he knew the whole time... or so Aerin thought.

It was only after Aerin's father left that Aerin realized he had been framed. The timelines for the spike in the formation and his exit didn't line up at all. He had been wronged, but even deeper than that... didn't this mean that there was an infiltrator into their Bubble they had lost complete track of?

Aerin realized immediately that this was his fault. The only way someone could have done this without detection was by using his key. He thought that he had secured it on his person, but clearly this individual had abilities that were far beyond his capability to understand.

Aerin felt like an ant in a frying pan. He wasn't sure what to do.

On the one hand, he felt that he should inform his father, but as a Dream Force expert, he knew exactly how foolish that was. His father wasn't a Dream Force expert, and those that couldn't protect their minds were vulnerable to leaking information.

'I'll have to speak to Old Bastian...'

With that thought, Aerin quickly left. His destination? The Dream Pavilion.

However, he was once again met with a situation that was entirely out of his expectations.

A Sprite he didn't recognize blocked his path on the road toward the main Pavilion. Most greeted him warmly, and he thought that this was yet another until they stepped in front of him.

Aerin blinked and frowned. It couldn't be said that the Dwarven Race was perfectly harmonious, no Race or even power could claim such a thing. However, they were still more cohesive than most.

While he couldn't sense any hostility from this Sprite, he clearly wasn't as respectful or endearing as the other either. But what was oddest was that Aerin felt that he couldn't read his Dream Force at all. When had someone like this appeared? The only people he struggled to do this with were old and wizened.

"Hello, may I help you?"

"Yes, you could," Leonel said with a smile. "I can see that you're in a rush, but I do have something very important to tell the prince. I believe you owe me a favor, no?"

Aerin's pupils constricted. He could tell exactly what Leonel was referring to. This was the man who saved him back then, but who was he? He still didn't know for certain.

Almost immediately, a cold sweat permeated Aerin's back, could it really be that this was the ploy the whole time, to infiltrate the Dream Pavilion? But then why would he expose himself like this? Unless there was a plan in motion already that was far too late to stop?

The more Aerin thought, the more he spiraled into feelings of guilt.

Leonel didn't explain, this wasn't the place to do so.

"Come with me," Leonel said, "it's a bit sensitive."

Some of the Dwarven Race members saw this scene and raised an eyebrow, but they didn't think much of it.

As Aerin had said, they were mostly harmonious. Aerin was also a kind prince that had given many of them pointers before, so it wasn't too weird for someone else to ask for his help. Those who were part of the Dream Pavilion were a small population to begin with.

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