Stepping out of a distortion in space that feels like a spinning whirlpool of thick cold air, Cer sets foot on a field of golden tall grass with hints of dampness from the remnants of morning dew in the early afternoon.
Where am I exactly? This doesn’t smell familiar… The grass feels tall, which means the rain must not be toxic here. Good. So far, it’s safe.
Turning slowly to scan the immediate area for any signs of friend or foe, Cer notices a large concentration of an auric field of mystic energy in the distance.
Hmmm. That’s got to be The Mecca. That energy is so far away… Why did Cherub port me all the way out here? I guess I’ll have to walk. At least this place seems isolated from people. Best to mark where I am just in case I need to come back here. Hopefully people won’t see me port in or out of here.
Exploring the immediate area, Cer searches for landmarks, scanning for signs of auras or mystic energy and occasionally sniffing the air for a familiar or identifiable scent.
While exploring the area, Cer stumbles several times over rotted wood, large rocks, and mysteriously placed stones. Every so often, the faint scent of a new growth of shrubs, weeds, or moss passes Cer’s nose.
After a few steps, Cer’s cane hits a large metal object, causing Cer to pause in place.
Tap Tap Tap… Tap Tap Tap…. Tap
Tapping around the object with the cane, Cer begins to feel a sense of unease. A brief breeze sweeps by, bringing awareness to a faint smell of moss and charred wood after the rain. Creaking panels croak as the breeze continues to sweep by.
Reaching out to feel the large object, Cer tries to move it without success. Feeling the weight of the object and its cool touch, a startling observation washes over Cer.
A door? A heavy metal door? What is a random door doing out here on the ground?
As Cer’s fingers continue to examine the metal door, the box on Cer’s back begins to vibrate. The vibration becomes a tremor as Cer scans the immediate area for threats, bringing notice to the sensation and energy of the contents in the box, aching to break free.
What are you reacting to? I don’t sense any threats.
As Cer’s hand runs over the etchings on the metal door, the box on Cer’s back evolves from a tremor to a violent shaking, as its contents bang on the box from the inside. Quickly, Cer’s hand withdraws.
It can’t be…these etchings… this crest… the bomb shelter of Aisling? This place… No wonder Cherub remembers this place. It’s a mass grave etched in our nightmares. I am sorry my friends. I will leave this place of mourning and sad memories, especially out of respect for you.
Feeling a deep sense of melancholy well up from inside, Cer rises slowly from the overwhelming memory of loss and begins to head towards the auric field of mystic energy in the distance, being careful to not disturb any objects that are settled in place.
Nobody wants to travel willingly down memory lane, especially if it’s a lonely alley of dark memories. We’ll leave this place and not come back if we don’t have to. I should tell Cherub to find new memories.
With every step moving away from the ruins of the town of Aisling, the box on Cer’s back eases its activity and steadily falls into rest again with stillness.
-break-
Approaching closer to the edge of the large auric field after what feels like hours of walking, Cer notices the large shape of the aura and the density of its energy.
This energy field is MASSIVE! This is not just a field, this feels like a thick living wall of defensive energy! That has to be the city. Something is off. From Aisling to this place, there has not been a single demon, monster, or soul roaming this unshielded land. Not a single creature. Is this area cursed…? Is there even life inside that mystic energy field? I better keep my senses on guard. If things get dangerous, I’m not sure I can even fight or shrive anymore.
Cautiously, as Cer approaches the auric field, stopping just steps away from the field’s palpable edge, Cer pokes and tests the edge of the field with the cane, staying wary of any fluctuations of mystic energy, mana flow, or aura, and remaining readily prepared to open the wooden box at a moment's notice.
It’s a bubble….?... A protection bubble? So far, it’s safe. Just have to be careful and hope there isn’t any non-Mystic energy. Don’t want any surprises.
As Cer slowly pushes the cane into the auric field, a tangible resistance pushes back like an opposing magnetic field. Cer pushes harder.
Hearing what sounds like a warm chuckling purr, Cer quickly turns to scan the area for threats. Nothing. Am I hearing things?
Sensing no souls or energy, neither living or dead, Cer shouts at the bubble’s wall, “I don’t know if you can hear me, is there anyone there on the other side?”
Startling Cer, an untraceable voice responds, “We’ve been waiting for you. This is the safest way in. Best you step on through before your only entry disappears.” instructs the voice from behind Cer.
As Cer turns to scan for the source of the voice, a black mirror appears, seemingly where the voice would have emanated from.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“You sound vaguely familiar; do I know you? Where are you and why can’t I see you?” inquires Cer.
Silence.
Scanning the area one last time, and realizing the presence is gone, Cer shrugs both shoulders and proceeds to walk toward the black mirror. There seems to be no way around this. I have no other choice. I have been in worse predicaments, but best keep on guard and be prepared for anything.
Stepping into the black mirror, Cer keeps ready with a hand on the cane and a hand on the wooden box on Cer’s back, and disappears into thin air along with the mirror.
-break-
Appearing in an alleyway just an instant after stepping into the mirror, Cer lands on both feet. Experiencing nausea from the instant travel, Cer realizes it has been a while since Cer ported this often. Wow, I used to do that all the time. I must be getting old. I can’t do that anymore like I used to. I might just vomit if I have to do that again.
Listening intently, Cer hears vendors in the distance with their voices echoing off what seems like tall buildings made of hard materials that contribute to favorable acoustics. Hearing metal clanks with rhythm, Cer determines the area must be some sort of industrially supported part of a city. The sound of the metal and vendors bounce off the tall walls and dampen against hanging fabrics that flap between a routine gust of wind and breeze. Smelling fresh squeezed juices, honey sweetened desserts, the scent of roti prada, and hints of spice, Cer begins to gag from the nausea of travel.
Hearing a giggle in the shadows of the alleyway, Cer looks to see a small mystic aura, barely hidden from view.
“Wow! You look ‘nah-sious’. You used to be a master of local porting. You have lost your touch.” giggles the voice.
“Do I know you? I feel like we have met before, but I can’t see you or smell you, AND you seem ….small?....” responds Cer, with a bit of hesitation.
“Well, you lost your touch with porting and you sound like you lost your memory too…” chuckles the voice.
With an off-putting realization, the voice gasps, “ Wait…Are you blind? Is that the sword Chisiki made you…?.. and you're using it as a blind cane?... Oh boy, this is a problem. I have to go tell the others. This is unexpected. Just find your way to the main street behind you and try to stay out of trouble. Hide your sriver sigil and draw no attention until one of us comes for you. We’ll talk again soon.” With the last word of their instruction, the mystic aura and presence disappears into what seems like a brief appearance of a black mirror.
Who was that? Where am I exactly? Cer thinks internally, while navigating through the alleyway towards the noisy hustle and bustle of what seems like the main street.
Realizing the shriver sigil is facing outward on the wooden box on Cer’s back, Cer turns the case backwards so the sigil can’t be seen while heading towards the main street. As Cer approaches the end of the alleyway, increasing concentrations of aura and energy moving about become more distinguishable as possible people. Unable to determine what is living or dead, Cer cautiously taps through the street looking for a place to sit and wait for the mysterious voice to return.
After a few minutes of searching, Cer finds a place with no discernable occupants. Preparing to sit, Cer’s patience turns into concern and caution as Cer realizes growing issues with the current situation. This is a problem, I let my guard down. I am too exposed. This place is crowded. There are no signs of life between the ruins of Aisling and wherever it is I am. AND everything in this city, which I hope is The Mecca, is indistinguishable between living or dead for me.
Suddenly, a startling shrilling scream pierces Cer’s attention, “O-M-GEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!”
Looking around frantically to scan for any danger, Cer begins to panic at not being able to distinguish between what is living or dead. Looking up, Cer sees an auric presence with seemingly no ill-intent bouncing back and forth in the sky while approaching rapidly. Is that thing flying or jumping between tall structures? I wish I could see what that is.
Focusing, Cer listens intently and hears associated clacking as the presence bounces across the top of the buildings towards Cer. Skates?
As the rapidly moving presence draws in closer, it bounces straight up into the air right above Cer, and then comes zipping down while squealing “O-M-GEEEEEEEEEE!!! I can’t believe you came!!! We’ve been waiting for you!!”
As the presence lands, Cer realizes that several concentrations of auras have gathered, audibly applauding and standing around this presence and Cer.
“Please. Please. Thank you. But, PLEASE, no more clapping…” chuckles the voice while she acknowledges the applause around her and waves the crowd away as she smiles and wishes people a wonderful day.
Looking at the energy and studying the aura, Cer picks up a familiar melodic tone from the sound of her settling voice and greets the entity, “I am so relieved it’s you, Nova. For a moment I was worried I’d be alone in this unfamiliar place. What are you doing here?”
Turning to Cer, Nova sings and grabs Cer’s hand, “Welcome back to The Mecca!!!! So much has changed. I don’t want you scaring people so let’s go somewhere more private to meet! I have the perfect place for you! Let’s go!!!”
Pulling Cer along, Nova skates through the streets on platform shoes with ballbearing outsoles, assisting Cer in dodging people as they quickly zig zag through the crowds, stopping abruptly in front of a sign marked by the presence of magic. Smiling, Cer recognizes the familiar markings of the sign, a pink sleeping bear and the words “Ursa Dormis Hospitality.”
“Welcome to safety, my friend,” Nova sings as she pushes doors open to the building.
Sighing with relief and feeling safe, Cer steps into the space with comfort, confidence, and a sense of home. “Thank you, I can relax now.”
“We have a lot to talk about. AND we need your help.”
Looking down at the ground with defeat, Cer sighs loudly, “And I was just starting to feel safe and relaxed. I don’t know if I can help. I am blind now… and my hands can’t conduct mana anymore. What are you asking for exactly?”
As Nova turns to leave, she softly reassures Cer, “I heard, AND I know you can still help, we just have to figure out how. First, rest. Then, listen. We can talk more later. I will show you what we are up against after the city shuts down tonight. Until then, rest and know you are safe within these walls. I will send a messenger. These walls only let friends in.”
Leaving Cer alone, Nova disappears into the late-afternoon busy streets and crowds.
In silence and isolation, Cer settles into the single-room space of the building and lays down on a bed found nearby while battling the constant noise of dark thoughts.
At what point did this isolation become loneliness? I don’t know what is more painful, choosing to be all alone, or the feeling and realization of actually being Alone. What is this emptying? I don’t know what feels worse, the numbness I long for, or the pain right before I become numb.
With a sense of loneliness creeping in, Cer’s mind wanders a bit around the recent visitor in Haeven, the idea of the return of demons and war, and what’s left of Aisling. With these terrifying thoughts, Cer slowly slips into the darkness of sleep; sparse tears slipping to the floor with feelings of unease and sadness.
As Cer’s tears fall and touch the floor, they are absorbed into the floor of the abode, disappearing within the walls of the room along with Cer’s consciousness.