Somehow, despite the absence of any sensation, light, sound, anything, I know that I’ve returned somewhere, some when. My consciousness floats amidst a sea of nothingness that stretches beyond eternity. The darkness is welcoming, enveloping. I could give myself over to this, and cease to be ‘am.’ I’m nothing but a swirl of several thoughts, and the prospect of losing what remains of me is somehow not bothersome in the slightest.
For some reason, I recall that I was alive once. Perhaps twice, perhaps more. I remember grieving, though I don’t recall what I had been grieving for. Something tells me it was my fault. Is that why I’m here? Was it my fault? Did I hurt someone so badly, that my afterlife is now a perpetual oblivion? I don’t mind the oblivion part so much, but I regret any hurt I may have been part of.
As my thoughts continue to swirl, the un-universe recoils in waves. It’s as if my very presence is unsettling to the nothingness about me. My thoughts cascade and gently crash through the utter blackness like the rippled waves of a still pond in which a stone had been dropped. The entire -non- gains sentience. Perhaps it always was sentient. Still, its current existence is reaching into a cookie jar, only to find crumbs. It’s flipping open one’s wallet to buy flowers for a lover, finding oneself strapped for cash, broke. It’s an oceanic flight in which the pilot hadn’t remembered to fuel up beforehand, the last wafts of fumes of fuel spent within its tanks, leaving only the dark, empty, which threatens to end those near it.
The emptiness expands and contracts as if yawning. In a non-voice that permeates the entirety of my own non-existence, it booms a whispered conjecture, “How very odd, what is this strange little thing? Oh, a frequent visitor even. We will be having met several times in your strange little existence. A bargain inviolate? Yes, yes quite an intriguing offer. Hm, you won’t remain attached to this particular mortal coil long enough to come to the conclusion required to make the offer. Pity. Yes, pity. Yet it will have had been made already, and cannot be broken. Still. You should not be here, should not perceive here. You must awaken, or your mortal coil will be even shorter than what was foretold.”
There’s a tenderness in the non. It calls to me in concern, “We shall have once began becoming friends in a manner. Over two separate bargains, we will once again. Perhaps. Still. Leave me be in peace until the next eternity has passed. Your message will have been received, has been received. Tread carefully you small, strange thing. You’ve got -Nothing- to lose.”
A voice wakes me as it speeds by screaming, “Gran Vista under attack, Gran Vista has fallen, Gran Vista is besieged!”
I awaken, blinking rapidly, glancing about swiftly in fright. Despite the alarming announcement, neither George nor Tiktik appear alarmed. I rub the sleep from my eyes and scratch my ears, checking to make certain they aren’t clogged. I flex and stretch the muscles along the left side of my jaw, neck, shoulders, and torso. They ache so badly, a frequent occurrence for some time now.
Poking Tiktik, I ask, “Hey, is no one else freaked out by that message?”
Her response has me questioning my sanity, “What message?”
I rattle my skull and blink repeatedly as I clarify, “The one from the screaming voice about the fall of some city named Gran Vista. That can’t be an every day occurrence, right?”
Tiktik blinks at me as if I’m insane. She places the back of her hand against my forehead, checking for a fever, causing me to roll my eyes. I’m still pretty sure I can’t even get fevers due to my thermal resistance. Huff. What the heck is going on with me now? I just, I just. Huff. There’s so much, and I’m so drained. I just want to be sure that the people I care about are safe, then I can let myself give up. I can embrace my doomed fate with grace or whatever it could be thought of as.
I’ve got maybe a month left with Teuila, and apparently I’m going insane with auditory hallucinations, on top of facing three apocalypses, or more. Things are never going to get any easier are they? Why are things like this? Hm? No Bud, sorry. I’m not giving up. Yeah. Yeah I made a promise.
What was it Dawn made me promise again exactly? If I somehow remembered her, to not beat myself up, to keep going so as to find my own cure? Huff. Most importantly, to make sure Teuila doesn’t lose me too. Te, oh My Wings. The rage and sadness boiling beneath your surface right now. Your stormy seas of moving emotion within your mindscape are the greatest raging torrent that they’ve ever been. I don’t even know how to help you, My beloved Wings.
Tiktik’s telepathic avatar leaps into my mindscape and tackles mine playfully. She asks, “What’re you doing all wrapped up in your head chum? Come on, even if you really truly do have a sort of literal deadline, is brewing and stewing and brooding what you really wanna do right now? C’mon Reggie spooty cutie patootie. We should have better news for Teuila when she gets back, at least like, transpo or something, yeah?”
My telepathic avatar flashes Tiktik’s a weak half-smile as I nod, acquiescing, “Yeah. Err, yeah you’re right. Sorry. I just. Dawn, she faded to dust in my arms Tiktik. Magic tried to take everything, every last bit of her, even her memory from me. I don’t know if it’s that grief, or my own ailments that are giving me auditory hallucinations. But you’re right. Even if George is free, we should probably just go back to the docks and try to set up transportation. Thanks Tiktik. You’re true blue.”
Tiktik jokes, “More like teal! Hehe.”
Pft. Such an adorable goof. She’s right though, her flesh’s color, at the moment at least, is mostly teal, not counting the runes tattooed along her flesh. Err, I’m not even sure if those are tattoos. Tiktik, what are you doing?
Tiktik's telepathic avatar grins as she shows off the entirety of her avatar's flesh, and the runes covering her body. She says, “I’ve been waiting for you to notice silly! I was born with these! They’re my connection to my source! When I was really small, they were more like scribbles, so my connection wasn’t really there yet. At best, I might have made some sort of magical things happen accidentally that no one ever knew about or caught. It wasn’t until that one sneezing fire bolt that my family and I knew about my sorcery. Do you like them? I think they’re pretty. Wanna feel ‘em? Go ahead!”
I nod along with Tiktik as she shares her tale with me about her life and past. Then I realize I’ve accidentally nodded in the affirmative to two questions. Even my telepathic avatar blushes hard enough for steam to rise off my ear tips. I just meant to agree that they were pretty, not that I, err. Well, it’s her telepathic avatar, not the same as, err, nah, still awkward. I try to begin to apologize, but Tiktik just shrugs and re-materializes her clothing upon her telepathic avatar.
Blushing and avoiding eye contact, I express my gratitude, “Thanks Tiktik, um, yes, you’re beauti—, err, they’re beautiful. I mean, not that you’re not, but really let’s not get into one of those; me backpedaling every three seconds, things. Let’s head to meat space and get some things done.”
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Tiktik grins and nods along, a slight smirk tinting her face and a twinkle in her telepathic avatar’s eyes tells me she’s got something cooking. I’m not sure if it’s going to be a prank to play on me, or someone else, or an idea for a teasing that she wants to use on me later, or what. She’s a dangerous one that one.
We’re about to leave George to go about his business, when he snaps a book closed and looses a loud yawn. George stretches during his yawn and spies the two of us walking towards the door, so he coughs for our attention.
George starts, “I’ve finished enough for the moment. So, Regin— err, I suppose I don’t know what Reggie is short for, forgive me my friend. What brought you to the records office in the first place?”
Tiktik beats me to the punch, “We’ve got some news, big news, big bad news. We already told Tiago and Harriet. You know how I can always smell something fishy? Something’s up with our lady mayor. She’s scared, but not about the right things.”
George raises an eyebrow, but Tiktik gets distracted by something in her robes. Even I’m left baffled by her assertion. George asks me for clarification, “Just what’s our little ticking bounty hunter on about dear friend?”
I inhale a long ragged breath and drop a weighty sigh through puffed cheeks before explaining, “I’m not sure about the bit about Harriet, though she’s right, we did tell Harriet already, to no avail. George, I probably shouldn’t have even let you finish your work here. Autumn Brook, no, all of Aasimovia is going to be overrun soon. The, gosh, I. I failed you. I failed all of you. There was a curse, and I was the only one that stood a chance to stop it, and I failed. My, my friend. She, she died, and with her death, the curse activated. It wrought all the ancestors to dust.”
George starts to speak but I have to interrupt to continue, “Wait, wait, there’s, I know, it’s horrible, but there’s more. I’m positive, utterly, absolutely positive, that the so-called Bright Lord, or Celestial Emperor, had been banking on that curse working for a very, very long time. I’m sure now that it has activated, his troops will be marching to conquer Aasimovia any day now. Worse, he was able to create some kind of light, it allowed him to steal souls. The rumors were true. A necromancer, Milbert of Navica had the light in Victo. We don't know if that was the only copy of that light. It, it stole everyone’s souls except a few. I don’t know how long he had been doing it, but there was nearly no one left. We destroyed his tower, and hopefully the light. Also hopefully that creepy doll, eugh.”
George’s face contorts as I get off track, so I try to return to my original train of thought, “Err, sorry, right, it’s--, that’s not even everything. Dragons, plural, were spotted in The Gap, I’m positive they attacked the Derbrightmine Dwarven Dominion. Wait, yes, there’s even more. Daffodil, she, you do know about her and the temple right? Okay, good, well, I mean, it’s not good. She was almost dead, buried under a pile of melting slag that was her recently finished adobe home.”
I hold up a hand before George can interrupt, because there is just so much that I know he’s curious about, but the list of events is even longer still, “Some woman, some creature had come by and belched acid or something. Daffodil was caught, trapped under melting stone in a puddle of acid. Her arm is gone. Wait, yes, there’s still even more. The canyon to the temple was caved in, I’m thinking by the same acid-belching woman, and yes, there’s still more. I felt the quake that happened when the canyon caved in, but I felt another quake after we rescued Daffodil, and were leaving Noirdivinhoz. It was due northeast of five miles west of Daffodil’s home.”
George flops back into his seat after slapping his forehead with his right hand. His palm rests on his forehead while he stares vacantly ahead. Just when I’m about to express my concern for his wellbeing, George asks, “Did, did, I mean you must have. Did Daffodil make it? Did you bring her to Tiago? What, what about that second quake?”
Oh, right, crap. I nod, further elucidating, “Right, yes, yeah. We got Daffodil to Tiago, she, um. She might not have made it. We had to use a rare magical potion when she started convulsing. We’ve only got one left. Between the three of us, Tiktik, Teuila, and myself, I’m pretty sure we filled in Tiago and Harriet on everything we could. The second quake though is weird. Its center has been following us west. It’s, I don’t know how to explain how I can sense it. Somehow I just feel vibrations more acutely than other people. I don’t know if it’s a Changeling thing, or a Can’Z’aasian thing, or a me in particular thing, or a—.”
I facepalm as I realize George doesn’t even know I’m a Fae, so I have to add, “Oh, right, yes, it turns out I’m a Changeling Fae, truly, though that isn’t why I changed shape while I was here. I can’t access my natural Changeling gift, only some spells, and it turns out using spells is what’s killing me. You and Tiago were right. I overheard you on our last day here, from an alleyway where I was nursing a migraine. The dragon’s heart, its dragonforce, is the only thing keeping me alive, and every time I use magic, I’m hastening my demise. I don’t have long. Hell there’s so much. Oh yeah, and there’s three apocalypses brewing that I’ve been informed of, though they basically boil down to what I’ve mentioned.”
George’s eyes widen and widen until I’m sure the flesh is going to peel back across his skull away from his eye sockets. I shudder at the imagery cast into my mind. Hell’s bells, just how much can I throw in someone’s lap before they snap? I plead with George, “George? Harriet won’t evacuate until she summons the council for a meeting. I understand politics are a thing, but I’m serious. Waves of death and horror are headed this way, and I want you all to get to safety. I know I might not be the most reliable, especially after I just hallucinated someone saying Gran Vista was under attack, and it was overrun. I don’t even know any city named Gran Vista, I’ve never heard of it, and here I am, imagining hearing about it getting attacked.”
George coughs and sputters, “You, well of course you wouldn’t, but, I. It’s a town, no, the most fortified city in Aasimovia. It stands near where Malta Verde once stood. But if you’d never heard of it, how--? I mean --. But then you’re you. It’s, well, rather near the location and direction you described. Northeast of a ways west of the temple. That, that’s a horrid coincidence. But with you, I almost don’t believe in coincidence any longer.”
I raise an index finger as my jaw hangs low. My index finger can’t decide whether it wants to point, or curl back towards my chin as my wrist wags slightly randomly. I bite my lips and try to not needlessly conjecture. But if a city named Gran Vista exists, not only that, but it’s nearby, and in the path of the quake that has been following us, well. Hell’s bells. Hellspit and Fel fires. George is right. That can’t be a coincidence, can it? Bud? Tiktik? Tiktik’s mental avatar shrugs, and Bud is similarly unhelpful. Sorry Bud, no offense.
George politely commands, “We needs must seek out Harriet again at once. I think she’ll be doing one last round of the town hall about now. If we hurry, we can catch her before she heads to the Keel Over to swindle travelers out of a few spare coins at cards.”
I grimace, realizing I haven’t shared yet another bad event that has recently occurred. I’m going to keep that one to myself however, unless it becomes absolutely necessary. Thankfully, George and Tiago are as on my side as two civilians can be in a city like this. I flash the man a weak smile. He ruffles his salt and pepper crew cut before stroking his moustache. Humans on Rayileklia seem to live longer, fitter lives than humans are supposed to based on my memories. Yes Bud, I know, judging peoples’ longevity based on memories of a fake world that doesn’t exist isn’t exactly helpful. I can’t help it.
Regardless, the three of us begin to hustle forth from the records office, and make a beeline for the town hall. I try to keep my breathing regular, as even as possible. Despite wanting to chase down dragons for an attempt to save my own life, or wanting to reunite with Teuila, this takes precedence in my eyes. I mean, there’s no second chances if I walk away and these people are overrun by one attacking force or another. Or if they’re caught up in some walking earthquake calamity.
As I’m thinking about calamities, all hell begins to break loose. The din of panic reaches my ears. Tiktik perks her ears up after riding my thoughts, but seems unable to hear what I hear. I frown, almost hoping that I’m having another auditory hallucination. That’s when I hear it, the same call I’d hallucinated before. Or perhaps the call I’d dreamed of. Gran Vista under attack. Gran Vista is overrun. The panic is likely evident on my face as George and Tiktik both shoot me curious glances.