Duh.

I had missed it for so long. God damn duh. I wasn’t whatever Celestine was. I was close, but there was still that difference. The details. The time sense. The doubles. G.A. vs. Celestine. Big Dav vs. The TicketMastyr. Me vs. Him. I was furiously writing with that damn gel pen in that damn dragon book that Ani had gotten me. Dreamer vs. Dreamed. God damn duh.

I finished, and smiled as I looked over the few pages of scrawling about a Carnival, and someone entering with a normal ticket. I looked over the description, and couldn’t help but appreciate how fast those gel pens dry. Being left handed, it was important, so that I didn’t smear what I wrote, and get ink or graphite all over my hand. I looked down in front of me as I closed the book, and recognized the boots. The black pants. The leather trench coat, with bits of armor interwoven in it. I let my eyes trail up, noticing the details. He was a bit thinner than me, but not by much. His goatee was a bit more dark, his hair was a bit more light. His eyes were just as mesmerizing. There was a bulge under his trench coat at his hip. I knew what he carried there. He is hair was still loose and wild, and longer than mine. He had a wide-brimmed hat that I did not. He had the same pendant I did hanging around his neck. He was harder, more edged than he used to be, but then again, he wasn’t whole back then. He was just an aspect. Now, he was whole.

“You’ve changed.” It had been so long since I’d seen him.

“Of course. Even I am effected by time, as you are.” He flashed that grin, that big-ass grin that made his eyes sparkle. One of those grins where no matter how pissed or depressed you are, you smile back, and feel it down to your toes. I reached out my hand, which he took and shook firmly. He registered mild surprise when he took his hand away. “You’re giving me this?” He held up my Golden Ticket.

“Of course. It’s yours, you retard. It’s not mine. Give me the ticket I’m supposed to have.” He held out the normal ticket to me, and burst out in what only could be called a guffaw. I grinned back at him, and for a second, I couldn’t figure out who was who. I guess there wasn’t really much difference at that point. I took the normal ticket in my hands and tore it in half. I walked out the front entrance, grinning over another puzzle solved.

Dragon Weaver looked over the Golden Ticket. Where next? Well, the biggest show is always the best starting point for a puzzle. To the Big Top, then. Hopefully people would figure it out, about the Dreams and the Dreamers, before it was too late. Oh, well. If not, there was always the ticket-tearing method.

He patted the war hammer at his hip, and grimly hoped he didn’t have to use it.