But are things the way they seem? How could we ever know?

See this:

A painstakingly old Unicorn is walking towards our would-be Cheshire Cat. He walks with the lazy un-impressiveness of old age. And why should he be impressed? Has anything truly changed, from when he first breathed in life, so many years ago? Myrddin thought not – lives were taken for the same fleeting and unimportant reasons; decisions were made based on faulty logic and even when they weren’t…so what? It all came full circle and the madness began again.

As he scented the frost in the stagnant air, Myrddin couldn’t help but allow his mind to drown in philosophical investigations. Like: What if this was all a dream? How could he truly know that he was in fact awake, and on a collision course with the colorful unicorn? If it was a dream, would he have any evidence for it, that was not completely congruent with being asleep? Further, wouldn’t the sight of the oddly coloured little fellow actually count as reason to believe, that this was in fact a dream? But whose dream? For surely neither Myrddin nor Chester were anywhere that they wished to be.

Myrddin continued walking on the path, which would shortly bring him to Chester, lost in the sort of philosophical thoughts that only the old cared about; that only the old realized were important.

Myrddin, lost in thought, did not so much as hear the little Unicorn as he slunk from his lair - though, had he been listening, he probably would not have heard him, anyways. Had he been paying attention, he might have wondered if in fact the little lad's hooves were not padded somehow, to dampen the sound?

As Chester came into view, Myrddin halted with all of the lazy surprise of one waking from a dream. He regarded the little creature with great interest - a dull light flooding his murky gaze. How feline he appears! Myrddin thought, with amusement. He instantly felt a great affection for this little creature - who so clearly did not belong in a world where shadows were permanently sewed to their owners, and tree's always remained where they were rooted. Myr's hairy ears flickered to catch the little lad's questions as they came, delighted that this conversation did not begin with a, 'Hi how are you." How boring that would have been.

"In order to be lost, youngling, I would first need a destination. But having none, I can never lose my way." Myr's voice was gruff, but pleasant sounding - like a singer who had inhaled too much smoke. "Aye. And if I did meet such a one, I might ask of him why he killed that Jabberwock', for I'd be very interested in hearing his reasons."

Myrddin peered into the gloom of the forest, momentarily afraid that perhaps a lion may come and chase him about - But things like that could not happen in lands such as these, could they? After all, was there not proof right before him, draped in pinks and purples, that would suggest otherwise?

Oh yes, Myrddin knew of Wonderland - and many other lands as well; Midworld and Endworld, the lands of King Arthur...and now Helovia. The others, his herd, who had shared his experiences were gone now, leaving the burdens of memory to him, and him alone. And sadly, no queen, red or otherwise, could revive them.

Myrddin gave a hearty laugh at the younglings' question, and shook his head causing tattered bits of mane to clump annoyingly into his eyes. Blowing a steady stream of air towards the wayward locks, he replied, "I am almost sure that the way is not mine. Perhaps it is yours? 'Tis hard to say - for if the way is already determined, even for the determiner, then perhaps it cannot be found or lost. And if the Jabberwock' has lost his head, is still himself? Or is the He, that was him, only in his head, and now his body is an entirely new entity, unto itself? Contrariwise, I wonder if you are still you, even in that body."

Of this latter statement, it is difficult to tell if he was still speaking of the Jabberwocky, or of Chester. For surely Myrddin had never come across the Cheshire Cat before? Billy Bumblers, and Carpenters, and perhaps even the Rabbit, but never the Cat. And while it might be obvious that Chester had some feline qualities, how could he know? Myrddin regarded the little fellow - noting the way that his grin seemed to defy his equine bone structure, and the way that his tail flicked in such a feline manner. But what is he doing here? Myrddin wondered offhandedly, and Is it his unbirthday?.

Myrddin nodded listening to what another might have construed as incoherent ramblings - utter nonsense. How could the 'way', be all three, or none? What were they even talking about, at this point? But Myrddin was not lost - he understood perfectly, and a layer of dust seemed to shake itself loose from his heart, as a pang of sadness overcame the old Unicorn. How perfectly out of place this little one was; how in danger, and dangerous he must be.

Which would you prefer - as the little fellow made this statement, Myrddin issued a hearty laugh, as if Chester had just made some great joke. In fact, Myrddin believed he had. "Time is but a face on the water, and all of this has already happened, you and I have merely chosen to focus on this particular instant. You must then already know, that my preference is for you to simultaneously be mad and unmad (not dead or undead, like another famous cat). Talking about it will only force you to chose one"

Poignantly, the youngling then changed the subject. As he did so, Myrddin furrowed his brow, showing increasing worry on his aged features. "Do you say so? Then let it be so." How could the Knight be here? The Cat, maybe, but the Knight? Who was guarding the squares? And who could he be, in this land? "Perhaps he is looking for a re-match, after his rather paltry defeat by the White Knight?" Myrddin doubted very much that the Knight was in fact here. "You see clearly, don't you?"

Myr believed that in fact, this little wanderling was being taken advantage of. But the Cat was no fool - the Cat always seemed to know. Perhaps, as his question hinted at, being in Helovia had dulled his senses, somewhat.