15 – Grand perspective

Under Tessera’s guidance, Paul twisted the matter of his outer spirit into a needle, then threaded it with a strand of Margaret's frayed outer layers. If deforming his spirit felt uncomfortable, it paled in comparison to the sensation of panic-laced wrongness that Margaret projected onto Paul as her spirit was pieced. He almost fumbled his metaphorical hands, but held on. Paul pulled the threaded needle around his spirit and to his body, where he twisted it around something that felt like it might be his body’s anchor.

A slow thudding began under Margaret’s hands. In his relief Paul almost let go, until Tessera scolded him. Then he tied down Margarets spirit using a strand of his own, and watched carefully. The heartbeat grew stronger, and Paul’s chest began to rise and fall.

He tugged in various directions, and the knot held.

::It is done:: Tessera declared.

◦◦It is done◦◦ Paul echoed.

As he slipped back into his own body, he could hardly tell whether the relief was Margaret’s or his own.

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Paul took the opportunity to practice spirit walking as Margaret slumbered. ::Spirit drifting really. If you can even call it that with this atrocious lack of control ::

Stabilising himself between his body, Margaret, and the rabbit, it almost felt relaxed. For once not having to worry about his body going hypoxic, Paul was finally free to focus on keeping his position and look around.

The white mist that filled the spirit plane had a denseness to it, but it didn’t actually block his vision. The ‘sun’ blazed above, radiating a sense of cleansing and heat without warmth. The abyss below actually looked rather similar to the sun. Similar in size, the same sense of being ‘infinitely far away’, and it felt equally dangerous. ◦◦A point of no return◦◦

At his own height around him were many pale yellow clouds, like his own and Margaret’s. With a small push of will Paul found himself recognising the boundaries of his house and of the city. It was humbling, seeing the many sparks of life around him. He wasn’t even sure he could count the number of spirits in his own household.

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Looking closely at a small blimp between his house and his neighbour’s, Paul found himself studying a pathetic little purple spirit. It looked perhaps a little like Tessera.

::Expand your view and look south::

Paul did. And he gasped. (Insofar as spirits can gasp.)

Down south, in and around the Mediterranean Sea, were blazing consuming bonfires. Miniatures of the thing he saw above. The most glaring were a big one in the neighbourhood of Genoa and an absolutely massive beacon in the middle of the sea, probably some distance under water, but most consequential was a chain of lights spanning the whole Mediterranean south coast.

And they were awesome and they were terrifying.

::Look west::

Paul looked and saw still-glorious remnants of the Western Latin Empire. The twinkling of people scattered throughout north Italian lowlands, clustered in cities and towns. Then a brief nothing were the alps were, and beyond that the sprawling peoples of Gaul.

When his perspective expanded further still, he saw the mythical islands of Britannia delineated by beacons of that cleansing fire.

::Now look north::

Cold shivers went down Pauls mind as he beheld the north, for vast sections of it were empty. If people are like wheat, it looked like a swam of locusts had travelled through.

::That:: noted Tessera ::is what we’re trying to prevent::