“Eury,” Dallion whispered.
The gorgon had changed since the last time he’d seen her, trading her sun gold armor for a casual Greek robe and what could only be described as a pair of medieval britches. She didn’t seem particularly older than Dallion remembered her, although the snakes on her head had acquired a faint golden color.
Seeing her seemed to make the pain fade away, along with all the concerns and fears. Suddenly, nothing mattered anymore. His college days, Atol, even the hunt for the awakened seemed trivial and unnecessary.
“Splitting’s never easy, especially the first time,” the gorgon said.
Dallion took a step towards her, then stopped, almost fearing that if he’d continue, the realm would swallow her up.
“You’ve been reckless again.” Eury’s snakes moved about.
“Just a bit.” Dallion looked at his left hand.
Two sets of fingers were moving about. That could only be described as pitiful by any definition, yet he felt a sense of achievement.
“I thought I lost you,” he said, finally having the will to continue forward.
Without thinking, his arms wrapped around her, giving her the strongest hug he was capable of. To his relief, he also felt her arms on his back. Despite being overwhelmed by joy, he could clearly see how much he had weakened. Maybe he wasn’t as weak as a non-awakened, yet he wasn’t too far off.
“It’s alright,” Eury whispered. Dallion could tell she was careful not to hurt him.
For a short infinity the two remained silent, holding each other, afraid to let go of the moment. With every second, their fear slowly faded away.
“How is it?” the gorgon asked.
“How’s what?”
“Your world.”
“Ah.” Dallion opened his mouth to continue, but paused before the first words could come out. Back in the awakened world, he’d often tell her about the wonders that existed back home. They all seemed so mundane now, not to mention that he still felt slightly out of place here. “It’s the same as when I left,” he said.
“I see. I wish you could have shown it to me.”
“I will,” he said without hesitation. “I’ll find a way to show it to you. All of it.”
“I know you’ll try.” Euryale let go of him and took a step back.
The action felt confusing, but for some reason Dallion wasn’t able to react to it. He knew that she was about to move away, yet he didn’t have the will to even try to stop her.
“Don’t go,” he said.
“I’m always here.”
“Eury, don’t—” Dallion rose up, suddenly finding himself in a rather small place.
It was dark with only a scattering of LED lights around him. A rhythmic hum was coming from everywhere, along with the faint sensation of constant vibrations.
“Finally up?” a female voice asked, though it wasn’t Euryale’s.
Things slowly came into focus. Once he was used to the faint light, Dallion was able to make out where he was. What initially seemed like a bed was a rather long seat. The lights were indicators for charging spots, read lights, and buttons with which to call for service and assistance.
A plane, Dallion said to himself. He had no memory of getting here. The last he remembered, he had been in Atol’s car on the way to the airport. No. Actually, he had been in his phone.
Atol was further down, watching some movie on the internal entertainment system. It couldn’t be said that the plane was top of the line, but it still had a level of luxury reserved for private jets. Dallion didn’t want to think who she had convinced to lend her this.
“What happened?” slowly he sat up.
“Your nose started bleeding, then you fainted.” The woman didn’t sound in the least bit concerned. “Lucky you didn’t mess up your clothes. I wouldn’t have been able to talk my way through that.”
“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver.” Dallion put in every ounce of sarcasm he could muster. “Where’s my phone?”
“With the rest of your things. I got you a new one. You can switch the SIM before we land. I also got you some clothes.”
Instinctively, Dallion checked to see if his old ones were still on him. They were.
“When do we land?”
“We’ve still got a few hours. Nap if you want.”
Sleeping was the last thing Dallion wanted. He’d slept enough already. Furthermore, there was the chance that he’d dream, and right now, that was the last thing he wanted. There was always the danger he’d see Eury if he did, only to lose her yet again.
“I’ll do that,” he lied.
Something had happened between the time he’d entered the realm of the phone and the time he found himself here. Back in the awakened world, he’d have a dozen echoes and familiars telling him exactly what had happened. Harp, Adzorg, and Vihrogon would be going on and on about what he had done wrong and how to avoid doing it in the future. Well, maybe not Vihrogon. The dryad was a former companion item, after all.
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Plane, Dallion said. Can you hear me?
It was a long shot, but if it had worked for the car, there was every chance it would work for the plane as well.
You can talk? A deep voice asked.
That was good, but far from a relief.
How did I get here?
Being able to talk is no excuse to avoid regulations, the guardian said flatly. Before you ask for assistance, you should clearly introduce yourself.
Given the circumstances, anyone would be forgiven to react harshly. Dallion, though, knew better. He wasn’t a world conqueror anymore. Here he was, just someone trying to find a way back home.
Sorry about that, he said. I’m Dallion.
Nice to make your acquaintance, the plane replied with understanding. Back to your question. You were carried here by the woman and a few airport regulars.
That solved one mystery, at least. Still, there was no way Atol had remained as calm as she claimed to be. If Dallion had fainted in the middle of their conversation—and had blood running from his nose—anyone would have rushed to the nearest hospital or medical center. At worst, she would have done so at the airport. The fact that she didn’t, guaranteed there was something she was keeping secret from him.
It was possible, in theory, for her to have some healing abilities. Music skills alone were capable of providing some relief. When combined with spellcraft, it could heal serious injuries. Atol didn’t have the magic trait, though.
How did you learn to talk? Humans normally couldn’t do that.
I’m special, Dallion replied.
Right now, he was at a disadvantage. He couldn’t confront Atol directly at the moment, but there was no way he’d let that pass. Come to think of it…
Plane, could you create some turbulence? he asked.
Why would I? That would be a breach of flight ethics. I’m a professional. Someone of my excellence couldn’t possibly—
It’s important, Dallion interrupted, trying to use his music skills. I just need you to do it for a few seconds. No one will doubt your professionalism.
The guardian didn’t reply. Dallion could almost sense his hesitation. It was time for one more push.
I need to find out what she did.
Everything briefly shook as the plane descended. That was all that Dallion needed. Using every ounce of speed, he sprinted out of his seat, going directly for Atol. The action seemed so slow compared to everything he had done in the awakened world. There was no way he could manage to reach her before she became aware.
Left with no other choice, Dallion decided to risk it. Holding his breath, he attempted to combat split.
A wave of pain passed through him, as if he had been briefly struck by lightning. Thankfully, it wasn’t enough to cause him to faint. Even better—an instance of him continued forward, while the other leapt straight for the woman. Two realities took place simultaneously. One was faster than the other. In it, Dallion covered the woman’s mouth before she could make a sound. Naturally, that was the reality he chose to remain.
“Not a word,” he whispered, pressing against her carotid arteries with his fingers.
Almost immediately, the woman froze. Clearly, she had relied too much on her music skills to engage in physical contact.
“What really happened?” Slowly Dallion removed his hand from her mouth.
“Nothing happened.” The woman made an attempt to tie in a subtle music thread among her words.
Dallion tightened his grip round her throat slightly.
“Okay!” she quickly said, still in a hushed tone. “I’ll tell you.”
Dallion loosened his grip again.
“You suddenly split into instances,” she said. “It wasn’t much. Not like now. I didn’t even see any changes, but I felt it happen. Then, your nose started bleeding. I pulled up on side of the the road, but you were gone.”
“Dead?”
“Fainted. It still freaked me out. I was about to turn back to your college when…" There was a moment of silence. “You muttered a name. Euryale.”
“My wife’s name.”
“It’s a gorgon’s name.” Even now, the woman sounded terrified. “You aren’t human, are you? That’s why you want to go back.”
That’s what she thought? Not something one would expect. It also could explain her reluctance to get doctors involved. If Dallion was masking his appearance, the first medical professional would find out, which would lead to serious issues for the both of them.
“I’m on your fucking side, okay?” Atol insisted.
Surprisingly, Dallion removed his hand.
“I’m not a gorgon,” he said. “But my wife is. And I am going back.”
As the seconds dragged on, the turbulence abruptly ceased, returning the flight to its expected smoothness. The plane guardian had done his job well and now went back to ensuring that the flight was as perfect as possible.
Not needing to press his point further, Dallion sat in the seat opposite Atol. He never thought that gorgons had changed so much throughout the ages. It was understandable, though. The furies despised the ground and everyone living on it… until they were utterly defeated, becoming a scattering of servants and mercenary tribes that worked for the highest bidder. The same must have happened to the gorgons. Of all the races in the awakened world, the least was known about them. Euryale, like every other gorgon Dallion had met, knew very little about their history and discussed even less.
“What else could you do?” Atol asked. “Other than splitting.”
This was a crossroads question. Telling her risked Dallion keeping the edge. Not doing so, risked losing her trust.
“I can talk to guardians,” Dallion revealed half the truth.
“No shit?!” She instantly leaned forward towards him.
“That’s why we need to find a place he’s been.”
“Shit Dal. That’s massive.”
“I can’t convince people, and I can’t fight worth crap.” He put things into perspective. “Our target can split as well. Also, I’m almost sure he has foresight.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“It’s either that or magic. Take your pick.”
Either choice was bad, but magic was worse. Normally, Dallion would spend a while within the awakened realms re-learning more of his skills. The price was rather high. Although it didn’t seem like it, he was far from his best. The best way to describe it was having been through a serious case of the flu—weak, though not enough to be noticed by others. Getting his health reduced by a third tended to have such an effect.
“We’ll need five hours after we land. It should be about noon by then.”
“That’s fine. The plan isn’t to hide.”
“What if they come after us?” Atol asked the question on both of their minds. “Even together we can’t match an attack skill.”
“We make sure we’re never alone,” Dallion said. “You’ll make sure we’re protected. I’ll make sure to take our targets down.”