Winter 2045 ~ Underworld
LUCAS Gray
Staring up at the castle, LUCAS looked in awe at the behemoth that stood twenty times taller than him. The castle was enormous, with towering walls made of black stone organized in rows. He closed his eyes to scan the environment, but his mind held no echo. There were none of the usual sounds that accompanied his thought processes—the whirring of the internal fans ensuring his systems didn’t overheat. The innards of his mind were not responding to his requests.
It rang like a hollow sound that echoed across his head space. He couldn’t access the databases that had been so closely wired with his brain—he also couldn’t reach Levi. It had fully seemed like he was fully removed from his previous abilities. He couldn’t draw in energy and form it around his hands like he could have before...not that there were any lights around where he could take from if he could. The surroundings around him looked as low-tech as one could get.
He took a deep breath and immediately noticed how integral it was that he keep breathing. Breathing was something he was used to—but he admitted that if he were alone he wouldn’t have wasted the energy, but here he knew that somehow he just needed to keep on breathing. It seems with a lack of abilities I have a new set of limitations. He would have to keep that in mind if he had to defend himself—as he was sure he would not be able to in the ways he was familiar with.
He looked back toward the castle and took notice of its grand design—the onyx black stones looked daunting and were worn with time—whoever had constructed it had done so a long time ago. It must have been much longer than the time since the world changed over...it seemed decades old, maybe even half a century. Maybe even longer, perish the thought. He didn’t know how to reason this fact in his mind—anything that came from what he was experiencing was in direct contrast to everything he thought he knew about the world.
Stepping closer, he felt the foreign weight under his feet and the strange unrealness only seemed to continue. He found the entrance to be just as daunting as the rest of the castle—a heavy wooden gate lay connected to thick iron chains across the chasm that seemed to continue down into forever. His mind had played images of castles with a shallow moat underneath—then knew this was not going to be like anything he had known before—or anything that was programmed into him.
He felt a sense of weariness crossing the chasm—wondering if the bridge would collapse under his weight, then once his fears were unfounded he breathed a sigh of relief upon reaching the other end.
All these new sensations were overwhelming—once they became necessary to his survival. Breathing was strange enough as it was—back then he wouldn’t have been able to deduce exactly why he had subconsciously breathed the air around him—something deep in his programming must have decided that in order to pass as human you had to breathe, and that act constituted certain kinds of behaviors.
But now…he breathed because otherwise he would lose consciousness—and such would lead to traumatic brain injury due to lack of oxygen. These were concepts he knew factually, but knowing something because you were told it and because you instinctively knew it were two totally different experiences.
Upon entering the inner grounds of the castle he saw shaped topiary laid symmetrically through the path—shapes of elegant knights and horses greeted his view. He also had seen a few more people off in the distance, but they were high up on higher tiers of the castle—far from his reach. He couldn’t work out the design of the castle yet—nor how to access those higher levels—much less if he was even allowed up there. The last thing he wanted was to accidentally set the entire castle against him for trespassing in grounds where he was not allowed.
He would continue forward until he could find someone that could be of some assistance—maybe someone had seen Laven. He desired to reconnect and find out the origin of this strange place.
He stepped through a large gate whose sharp posts were raised in a locked position—another unfounded fear of them dropping and pinning his skull to the pavement urged him to quicken his pace through the gate. With his usual methods of self protection gone he realized just how paranoid about everything he was. Every sharpened feature was a probable death point—every chasm was a ditch to experience life’s last moments within. He recognized that continuing to allow it access to his fear and his mind was an act reserved for fools, yet, nobody had told him just how easy it was for the brain to act a fool.
He stepped inside the inner walls and noticed that it was just as grand as the exterior was. There were high ceilings, marble floors that looked polished to a shine, and tapestries hanging from the walls adorning several exquisite scenes.
His thoughts were cut short as his attention was drawn to the large grand central staircase which led up to a higher level that was adorned with golden filigree and crests of some import at the end of the hallway. Empty suits of armor lined each end with their swords of silver and steel pointed toward the ceiling. Images of prisoners lining up to each suit as their hands of justice severed their heads from their necks ran through his mind.
He shivered as the enormity of the scene around him started to overwhelm him. It would only be worse if it were full of people, and that thought then brought to mind the question of where everyone else was. Where Laven was. He hadn’t seen anybody else since entering and the castle seemed a sickly quiet. He decided to continue forward and as he approached the staircase he finally heard the light thumping of footsteps off to his right. He turned and saw a person running toward him in a haphazard fashion.
“HUUUWAIIIIT!” The shrilly voice erupted and echoed through the chambered hall. It bounced off the walls and seemed to multiply as it continued down. The man looked frail—his body was very tall and thin, the full figure was very lanky as he ran. If LUCAS wasn’t so confused he might have thought it humorous.
He stopped just before LUCAS and bent over to catch his breath. Upon closer inspection LUCAS could see the man’s hair was cut with an eccentric design not unlike a constellation in the back. There were very specific cuts made and he was curious as to the meaning behind it, if there were any. He wore glasses that greatly magnified his pupils and his nose looked like that of a witch’s—crooked and broken in at least two places.
“Excuse me?” LUCAS asked. “Are you...okay?” He cocked his head and a look of concern crossed his face.
The man heaved and pressed his wiry arms against his knees and coughed once, then brought a hand up as if to assuage any additional concern. “Excuse me my fair lad—I had heard there was a newcomer and I had been searching for you with great haste...and here you are! What a sight, what a sight!” He repeated and stood straight up like an arrow. “Could use some work here and there, but nothing that can’t be ironed out,” he continued, more to himself. He rubbed his thumb across his chin as he studied LUCAS up and down. “Yes, I think I can finally finish pitching the squadron idea...”
“I’m having a difficult time understanding what you mean, exactly,” LUCAS said. “What is this kingdom? And who are you?”
“Oh, yes…you are like the others, yes. Come here, follow me,” the man said, irritated by the fact he dodged all of LUCAS’ questions. He stood staring as the man had turned and taken a few steps down the western wing, his eyes following him, unmoving.
When the man had realized LUCAS had not been following he turned on his heels and cocked his head. “Come now, your questions are answered by those better than me. Our help is predicated on your help,” he turned back around and continued forward, this time with LUCAS following hesitantly behind.
He passed large and exquisite looking paintings on each side of the wall—the small cards underneath listed the names of those they displayed. They were all names that sounded snobbishly made up, though. The first one had been called “Regumont Fairbren” which then led to “Isobolde Fairtriss”--which had a woman who seemed like a conglomeration of multiple renaissance age women into one.
“These are all our past rulers, of course their likeness is only but a fraction of their wonder in person,” the man said. “Just don’t stare too deeply into their eyes, though. You’ll never know which ones stare back at you.”
The sentiment would have been off-putting, if the next portrait wasn’t depicting a rather plump man named “Heptimus Blunt II”. LUCAS didn’t know what was more unfortunate—his name, or the fact that he was a junior. Upon a second look at the portrait, looking at the clothes that LUCAS could best describe as an adult bib, he decided it was the framing of the portrait altogether. Whoever was in charge of such had to understand the implied infantile nature of the work.
The man hooked a right into a room that set at the end of the final portrait—it depicted Heptimus Blunt I, a man who looked the furthest thing from his son, a man with a military styled harshness and whose face looked more like a skeleton with how sunken in his face was.
There was an innate curiosity to wonder what had happened during the rule of Heptimus Blunt II to have the next ruler stem from an entirely different bloodline entirely. Of note, he hadn’t the chance to see if a portrait of the most recent ruler was laid out as the hallway certainly extended much further down.
LUCAS left that thought trail hanging as he followed the man into the room. He felt an oppressive darkness as he stepped into the room. The light was low and the man faced the wall, placing his hands behind his back. “This is our projection room—here we can display images larger than you can imagine...truly a magic unto its own.”
As he said a shuttering sound clicked to life and a cone of light sprayed onto the back wall, showing an image of the black castle he stood in.
“Blackwell is full of many such magic,” the man continued. “For we are blessed with the gift of the dragon’s breath. Here…” he snapped and the picture changed to a large display of a large dragon. Its scales were a void-black so dark it was almost like a shadow. “Named such after the being who bestowed upon us the very same magic—The Blackwell Dragon, our current ruler.”
LUCAS flashed back to the last dragon he had laid eyes on—the one who had been for a short time one of his and Laven’s companion’s in the guild, Blaise...although he now saw the irony in the name. If he hadn’t had the previous experience—and he shuddered at the thought of experiencing that again—he wasn’t sure if he would have so easily accepted the idea of another dragon.
“You seem to be one of the first to not take the history of our dragon as a surprise...interesting,” the man said, dragging an extended finger across his chin. “Most of those that appear from the sky seem to take most a wondrous pose or declaration...or even denial at the idea.”
LUCAS shook his head, “I’ve seen a lot of things in my time. I can’t say I’m surprised by much,” he said, but it was in most parts a lie—plenty had surprised him here, but he figured playing that off was his best bet until he knew more information.
“I see, well it is here where the excitement usually builds to confusion and bewilderment, but I see we can skip those tired acts of emotion now...that is most pleasurable.” The man snapped, and the display changed again. The man offered a smile and continued to explain, “Here our citizens work, contribute toward the kingdom for keeping them safe from...well, there are many dangers in the world outside.”
The image was of a shining white castle that was seated on an islet—surrounding it were vicious hurricane winds and gales forming large cyclones.
“Whitewing is but one of the many other kingdoms who would seek to see us burnt to little else than cinders.” The man’s arms were crossed and obviously tense. “Talks of peace have long since faded and any treaties that once existed now probably feed the fish along with the men who wrote them.”
“Well, that is mighty unfortunate,” LUCAS said.
“Quite,” the man said, snapping his finger again. The image shifted to a snapshot of a large field. There looked to be soldiers who were fighting off what looked to be creatures cloaked in darkness—bright yellow eyes gleaming off the silver of their swords.
“And with what trouble we can spare from the other kingdoms, come in the shades...detestable beings that don’t seem to take too kindly to our normal weapons here. Phase right through and what have you. Takes a great powerful magic to best even a single shade.”
“I’m starting to think there’s a question buried deep in there,” LUCAS said. “Or request…more like it.”
“You’re probably very confused on your being here,” the man continued. “For that I have an explanation, and one you’ll find more relevant to your own personal queries.” He snapped his fingers again and an image of what looked like a cell splitting in two—except on closer inspection it wasn’t a cell at all.
“You come from a world that exists on the back of ours, and we yours. Our greatest scholars have been able to see the connecting bonds for some time now...we used to be fully unaware of your existence until recently. There was...a rift. Some sort of force out in the deep reaches of where we can see—yet the dragons felt its touch—the passing and crossing of our worlds. And from them we found channels like veins running through a body where we spilled into you…”
“And you into us…” LUCAS said, not knowing where the image of the voice calling out into space had appeared in his mind, but knew it was related. Then he blinked, and thought on it...what...voice calling out into space? Was...that ship somehow involved? He closed his eyes and...yes, yes it had been. Something inside that ship had been calling out from his world...calling out until it could do more than call. It’s voice was like a claw with which to rend the fabric at the edge of the universe.
“Shades filled into our land, and some manner of time-beast filled yours. We’ve traded problems, and since the beginning we’ve been having more and more of you intersect over on this side...and so we’ve been terribly busy taking you all in, getting you up to speed—those of you that don’t try open hostility as your first instance of appearance, of course.”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
LUCAS had then been ready to ask the man the question that had been waiting to be asked since the very beginning. “How am I to return from where I came?”
The man sighed. He knew the question was going to come sooner or later. “We have as of yet been unable to find the answer to that question. There are people on your side we very much miss in the same way you probably have over there...so please accept my apologies.”
LUCAS thought about that remark, and then took a deep breath. “There’s someone important to me who I think crossed over here. She’s a bit darker skinned than I am, has longer black hair, and her name is Laven...have you come across her?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know,” the man said. “There’s been a lot of bleed over recently, and I’m one of ten attendants the high court has on this duty—if she came through this channel then she could have been approached by any one of us...and we haven’t yet had our rounds to meet up with my group...perhaps if you wished to join me you could ask some of the others?”
“You’re very trusting of someone you’ve just met,” LUCAS said.
“I could very well say the same to you,” He turned and bowed. “My name is Tomorrow, and I hope this mutual trust serves you a fine opinion of Blackwell.”
“Well, I appreciate that,” LUCAS said. “My name is LUCAS. But I still have some questions regarding what happens next for me?”
Tomorrow smiled and stood back up straight. “Well, that of course is up to you. You can do whatever you choose within the bounds of our laws. If you would like to assist with the efforts in discovering more about the seams between our worlds...we have more to talk about. If, however, you find your desire to return lacking, you can feel free to apply to our transitional housing program and start a new life here. There are plenty of opportunities to support nearly any discipline you find yourself following to support the whole. This is a large choice, I am sure, so I can give you some time to—”
“I’ll help look for a way back,” LUCAS said, not missing a beat.
Tomorrow looked at him and then clasped his hands together. “Excellent. Well then it looks like our time is not as of yet at an end. Come and follow me.” He turned and scuttled off back toward the hall as the lights faded back in and the projection stopped.
LUCAS followed behind, but at a distance—he needed a moment with his thoughts. He knew his answer immediately, but needed the time to process the decision. Tomorrow was right—it was a big decision, and the concept of a world existing like this one had certainly thrown him for a loop. This wasn’t in any of the books Abel had read in The Eye of Timaeus. Was it something even the Children of the Night had known about...or even more bizarre, had it even existed then?
Surely there is history here—the kingdoms Tomorrow has mentioned have existed for quite some time, but how long has that history existed? It wasn’t the worst idea to think of living a life far from the chaos he had known back home...but the immediate counterpoint to that was he had just about as much experience with the old world. He knew memories and other people’s experiences—those were full of grief, sure, but his personal experience hadn’t mirrored such. And then there was Laven—she was here somewhere.
He was sure she could defend herself—she was much more used to surviving in a world without her powers if what happened to him had similarly happened to her, but he did not feel good about making the decision for them to stay—or how he’d reconcile with the feeling she’d have if she’d found him trying to domicile in a place so foreign while she was trying so hard to help others.
It was a simple choice, but it had also been a choice of that godforsaken duty that kept ringing in his head like an old bell. Even though it wasn’t a programmed directive he could willingly ignore it still hung heavy in his mind like a conscience of a bloodied weight. I have to go back. I have to reunite with Ally and protect the fragments. And so, his decision was made in unison in his mind.
Tomorrow cocked his head, “Seems like you’re wrestling with your brain itself.”
“Guess it’s strange having one,” LUCAS said.
He knew it’d raise the question, he didn’t have to look at the man to feel the look. “In my world I’m not...like this. Things are a lot different over here—I’m in a human body.”
“You make the specification,” Tomorrow said.
“Do you have knowledge of androids?” LUCAS asked. He figured it was a fair question considering the medieval look of the world that he’d fallen into.
Tomorrow laughed, “We have books on many topics in our central library—I think you’ll find some of our theoretical novels have found their way into your world to give some of your writers the very inspiration for topics such as those. Yes, I am aware of such. So, your world has proceeded to the point to create such a being?” He stopped and looked LUCAS up and down. “Yes...I see. Your eyes are very...analytical. I would say they belonged to a system if you weren’t standing here before me.”
He continued walking and LUCAS continued with him. “What is this land called? I know Blackwell is the kingdom, but it’s a little overwhelming knowing this just as your world.”
“This is the land of Rune. The totality of our lands is Rune and we are split into kingdoms across the land. I told you of Blackwell and Whitewing, but so too do the Kingdoms of Redrum, Bluefin, and Greenhorn. Each sits at the poles of our landmass. The others are...temperamental—often shifting their allegiances between black and white depending on what they think suits them best.”
“What are the current standings of their allegiances?” LUCAS asked.
“Redrum and Bluefin are currently in their own dispute over integral resources that each have proficiency in developing—so it’s rare you’ll see them on the same side for long, though if a cause is great enough they aren’t blind enough to let their petty squabbles get in the way of a great win. Currently Redrum bows its lance to Blackwell and Bluefin to Whitewing. Greenhorn is currently aligned with Whitewing, but we hear talk in the shadows of them choosing to secede to a more neutral position, but that is above what we would ask of you to deal with in a much larger scope of things. But that is a manner we’ll discuss more after the meeting, sound good?”
“I think I understood,” LUCAS began. “And yes, that sounds good.”
“Excellent,” Tomorrow said. “Now let’s pick up the pace. I fear we’re going to be the last ones to arrive.”
The council room was a circular affair affixed to the northernmost end of the castle and it had adornments all across the wall. Several of them bore a white crest emblazoned with gold filigree of a dragon’s gaping maw and the start of flames.
“Another dreg in the pile, Tomorrow?” A man dressed in a wispy purple drape sat at the head of the table in the center of the room. Golden lines shone up and down the arms of the cloak that matched his golden blond hair that fell to his shoulders.
“Glad to see your cheery tidings are back in normal working order Tidmas—I assume the cough has not taken you out in full?” Tomorrow asked, his mood unchanged. “We’ve got an android here, if you can believe it,” he said.
Tidmas’ smile did not change. “First you make us wait to begin our meeting and now you speak of fiction. It seems not much has changed with you either.” He turned to the others in attendance. They were a gathering of men and women who were all wearing elegant clothing like Tomorrow and Tidmas. “If we’re all present and accounted for we should begin...with the excess stench expelled from the room,” his voice was stern, and LUCAS knew instantly he felt a disdain for the man.
“Therein lies the rub,” Tomorrow said, keeping his volume high so the others could hear. “The topic of today’s meeting is going to discuss the budget cuts concerning the forces on the Greenhorn border as well as bartering difficulties surrounding Redrum territory...topics we’re all very frustrated by and would have a magnanimous argument over who to leave holding the metaphorical bag, so to speak. But I seem to recall a solution I pitched at the last meeting...and the last before that, and the last before that which would solve each of those problems and then some.”
Tidmas studied Tomorrow’s face with a harrowing gaze. He looked like he was going to speak but then another voice cut him off.
“You’re well aware of the dangers your plan brings to us, Tomorrow.” The speaker was a woman with white hair curled to one side draping near her shoulders. She had sharp features and had her hands poised playfully on the desk in front of her. “But I will agree it is sounding better the longer this farce goes on.”
“It is not a farce,” Tidmas chided. “You act as if precaution is nothing but a fantasy—well let me tell you the first mistake one of these dregs makes is one too many for us to handle.”
“Hi, my name is LUCAS,” LUCAS began. “Although if you want to continue insulting me—the least you could do is learn my name.”
He hadn’t known where the confidence came from, but something about this world felt...dream like. He figured while he still had the air of unreality he could best use it. He got a sort of satisfaction in the looks of those around him—especially Tidmas.
“So...it speaks,” he recovered, his gaze turned straight to LUCAS.
“I do, and as far as I’m aware I’m the one who’s had his entire world ripped away from him. I don’t seem to think you’re at any more risk or danger than me or the inhabitants of my world, no?”
“That may be, but we have no assurance that you’re of no danger to us and our people.”
“Well,” the woman began, “Considering we’ve screened mostly common folk we’ve no evidence to believe the contrary.”
“Listen,” LUCAS said, taking a step forward. He saw the reaction in each of them in the circle, and could almost feel the smile from Tomorrow behind him. “If I wanted to do anyone here harm, it would have happened already,” he backed up the lie with what he hoped was a fierce look. “You know nothing of the strength I hold inside. It would be in your best interest to recognize that and see we both have common interest—you wish to eliminate the risk outsiders present to your kingdom, and I wish to return home...among other things.”
“Other things?” A man to Tidmas’ left asked. His head was shaved and his robes were a brilliant emerald. They complimented his darker complexion—his eyes looked that of an owl’s—staring deep into him.
“There is a woman my friend here is searching for,” Tomorrow added.
“Another warrior from my world,” LUCAS added. She’s got more heart in her than most people—I’d even argue in this room combined. Someone that’s probably stood up to you like I have now.”
“The firebrand,” The woman to the right of Tidmas said, smiling. “Yes, I recall. I had the pleasure of acquainting her into our space.”
LUCAS smiled small, then turned to Tidmas. “I understand we don’t have much say here—like how I would expect you would not if the roles were reversed. I have no problem in respecting that, but only if you respect our desires are not different than the common good for all.”
“Which brings us back to the plan I brought forward,” Tomorrow added in.
Tidmas sighed heavily. His shoulders sank and the red robed-woman opposite him shot him a look to disavow the motion. “Fine. Your point has been made. We shall take it into consideration—but of course it shall be on terms we present to his highness. Your speech may be grand but at the end of the day we do not serve you,” he sent the word down like a curse of sorts. “Just know if this backfires, I won’t shed a second thought.”
“If your ruler is someone who would not listen to reason…” LUCAS shrugged, “then I might just need to file an appeal with ‘em personally.”
This too shocked those in attendance, even Tomorrow was looking at him with wide eyes.
“Did you just...threaten his highness?” Tidmas stared at LUCAS blankly.
“It’s only a threat if he makes it one,” LUCAS said.
“I do not think he shall,” Tomorrow said, regaining his composure. “Tidmas is just being his usual pessimistic self. But I highly recommend we move this conversation forward before anything else.”
LUCAS could tell Tomorrow was trying his hardest to keep the motion from getting tossed out, but something deep within LUCAS told him to keep his eye contact with Tidmas—like a challenge that awoken a growling force that had so long been dormant within him. The way he talked about innocents who had their entire lives ripped away to end up here—somewhere completely foreign. As if they were garbage and nothing more than a nuisance. LUCAS hated that...and if he didn’t have his strength he had in the old world, he would make his own, and that started with his voice.
“Yes, let’s,” he said, and then turned to the woman. “Where was it you led her?”
Tidmas stared daggers at LUCAS for taking control of the conversation again, and LUCAS returned the look back. This time, he didn’t have to hope it conveyed what he felt.
“Well now, a fire indeed,” the woman said, leaning back in her seat and chuckling.
“Cherine, do not placate his behavior,” Tidmas said. “It is reprehensible, exactly that of a—”
“She’s probably in the mess hall with some of the other travelers,” Cherine said, smiling as her eyes darted from Tidmas to LUCAS. “If you take this exit behind you, follow the signposts til you make it there.”
“You’re suggesting we let him walk the castle alone?” Tidmas asked.
“Oh, well I assumed you needed Tomorrow here to talk about the finer points of his plan,” LUCAS said. “That is, unless you wanted to escort me yourself, then we could talk about the finer points of polite conversation?”
Burning fury was not quite an accurate descriptor for what sat in his eyes—Tidmas looked a moment away from standing and yelling at him to leave his presence immediately. Instead, he closed his eyes for a moment and a grin formed on his face as he exhaled. “You don’t even know the full scope of Tomorrow’s plan, do you child?”
“Don’t patronize me, Tomorrow’s told you what I was. I’m no child.”
“Regardless,” Tidmas said, with enough venom to kill a snake, “You should do some research on the policies you argue for...because Tomorrow’s idea is to send you off as soldiers—like cattle to a slaughter. Is that what you wish for? To offer your life for a kingdom whose rules you so clearly disrespect? To not make something of yourself here and learn some proper—”
“You know what kind of people I hate the most?” LUCAS said, cutting him off.
He saw the anger in his eyes return. He caught the smallest smirk from the man on Tidmas’ left and Cherine.
“I hate the person who has the power to help people, but instead chooses to preach his own parables and not do anything. Me? I consider those kinds of people cowards. I used to be too scared that I wouldn’t be able to help the people I cared about, you know what I did? Well, rather than tell you a story you could write off, I’ll show you. Laven and I will lead whoever we can get to wherever we need to go to find our way home. You can discuss all you want—you can even vote no and your king could put a warrant on my head—I don’t care. You’re either for the cause, or you’re an obstacle. Think on what you want to be.” He turned and found the door, thrusting it open and letting the adrenaline carry him down the winding halls.
He didn’t remember the rest of the way to the mess hall—the feeling of unreality had started to fade and the confidence was fleeting, but he was glad he had said what must have been welling deep within him since he was awoken back in SubCon.
He found the mess hall after not too long and stepped into its majesty. The ceiling seemed to rise into oblivion above him and bodies were seated at the hundreds of tables that lined the main entrance. He hadn’t seen so many people together—not even in any of the memories he had once had full and unrestricted access to was a gathering this large recorded. It really hit home how large Blackwell had grown over their history—and he wondered how many were natives...and then thought that until they found a way home thinking like that would be nothing but detrimental.
He scanned the crowd looking for any sign of Laven, but there seemed to be too many faces—too many voices that even if he were to yell his own voice would be drowned out. And yet...he felt that she was here. It wasn’t some internal scanner or anything that had any logical explanation. He just...knew she was. I guess I can consider this my intuition...it’s so strange to consider such a thing as an emotional process rather than a logical one.
He turned to the right half of the room and he saw her, seated and wearing a dress that looked like a cross between a sundress and a kimono. He hadn’t seen anything so intricate in the other side of the world but he felt it fit her perfectly. His head was cocked and he noticed that the others around her were wearing other strange clothes that had looked like they come from some deep place within imagination. He stood staring at her and at that moment her eyes caught his and they went wide and she smiled.
A sudden warmth flooded his chest and he couldn’t help but smile in return. He ran over, slipping in between the crowd as he had her in his sights.
Finally, I can rest easily. This place just became less scary...that is, until we’re out there hunting whatever it is we need to find. He realized just how boundless the quest was he signed himself on for. For as rude and flagrantly arrogant Tidmas was, he was right on the fact that LUCAS really hadn’t known the full details of Tomorrow’s plan, but he had meant what he said. He was going to search for a way to get home—as alluring as the idea of living in a new world to start over was—he knew the unfinished business would eat and tear away at his new heart and mind. But that would have to wait.
We are going home, and I will do anything to make that happen.
Anything.