138. Awakening, Reunion, Children

Waking was a complicated concept.

How did you define the distance between dream and lucidity? From ancient times to the present, many had tried to explore that blurred boundary, but none had succeeded. Even those capable of lucid dreaming could not explain exactly how they decided on the concept of "waking."

Vulkan could not explain it either.

He had simply "woken." That was all.

What came into view was a white ceiling. An exquisite chandelier of an ancient style swayed slightly above his head. He saw no candles; instead, he saw four indistinct, gentle clusters of light glowing warmly in silence at the chandelier's four corners.

The distinct scent of books entered his nostrils. Only then did Vulkan realize that he was lying in a comfortable sofa chair, one that fit his body perfectly. Wide, soft, warm. In the fireplace not far from him, firewood was burning slowly and steadily, giving off pleasant crackles.

Then he heard the sound of pages turning.

Turning his head, Vulkan saw a thin man lowering his head as he leafed through a thick book. The book had a brown cover with gilded words on it, though they were not in any script he knew. Vulkan studied them for a while, and abruptly felt a stab of headache.

The man suddenly said, "I suggest you don't look at them without their permission. Every word in this book has self-awareness, and they don't much like being read or looked at by anyone other than me."

".This is rather different from how I imagined the Garden of Nurgle." Vulkan carefully sat up, his fists clenched, looking as though he might erupt into violence at any moment. "And who are you?"

"One question, but you actually asked two."

The man raised his head, an intriguing smile on his