Chapter 5-
***Warning- pretty graphic description of a panic attack and some violence. If you want to skip it, start reading at "The darkness fades."***
The happy illusion shatters when you shut your eyes.
This time, the dream plays out in slow motion- creatures going mad and attacking each other and their bonds, winged humanoids you presume to be Avians drop from the air screaming- Wolfkin snarl like beasts and attack each other without restraint, claws and teeth gleaming with blood; Elvians duel to the death with their ancient weapons and blood spills across desert and forest alike, turning the ocean red with blood.
It replays slowly; like Oblivion himself had found you, curling his clawed fingertips into your mind and hand-crafting a nightmare you just can't shake.
Waking up is more like passing out- you're breathing heavily, and while you're sure your eyes are wide open, you can only see darkness and your ears are ringing and you can just barely make out the sensation of your hands shaking through the uncomfortable, all-encompassing numbness that seems to shake you apart at your very core.
You're not sure how long it takes you to calm down- you're not entirely sure you're conscious for most of it, but when you next open your eyes, there are tear streaks down your cheeks and your hair is matted in knots- you raise your hands only to find them shaking beyond your ability to use them, and while everything sounds muted, like there's cotton balls in your brain, you can pretty clearly make out a high-pitched, gasping noise, and upon further examination, you realize that that's you breathing.
You might've blacked out again- when you next force your eyes open, Muzu is cawing in alarm at you, hopping anxiously back and forth between your knee and the ground.
"I'm okay," you say- or rather, you try- your voice is impossibly small, cracking on every new vowel to the point where the entire word is garbled beyond recognition.
You feel Muzu's weight lift from your knee and a more solid weight- one of your Servals, probably- settling into the space that Muzu had just vacated, warm and comforting but so, so far away.
You try and focus on breathing- on steadying yourself against the darkness that's still clinging to the corners of your mind.
Something slides around you, and you're being lifted- you seize, flailing with the limited mobility you have, and after what feels like hours you're put down.
You feel the warm pressure of furry bodies pressing around you- you're sitting up, you realize, and try again to steady your breathing.
The darkness fades.
You're still shaking, a little, but it's nothing you can't handle and it takes more effort than you'd like to admit to open your eyes.
It's the Aviary- you think, at least, it's still difficult to tell, but this feels like Sorren's chair and there are blurs or black feathers and bright lights flying from one side of the room to another- and you recognize your Guardian Dire Wolves despite the haze in your vision, crowded on the floor and around the wagon, pressed against your legs if they could get close enough. Torch, Spoons, and Rosie are next to your head- on the top of the chair, chattering softly to one another, and the Servals have given up on all sense of personal space and are crowded around and on top of you as best they can get.
With great difficulty, you turn your head and look around.
You can't see Sorren anywhere, but the comforting presence of the creatures around you is enough.
Finally, you deem yourself well enough to move, and raise your hand to wipe your sore eyes, and immediately there's a burst of movement.
A few of the Servals purr in content, satisfied their work was done, and the Rune Dragons and crows chatter above- you can hear the faint sound of Slepnir hooves on pavement, and you're touched the prideful breed came to make sure you were okay- but the majority of the noise was from the Dire Wolves.
All at once, there's the thundering of dual tails on wooden floors, excited panting and shuffling of paws, and you manage to smile weakly because everything might still be fixable if your Dires can get excited so easily.
The noise draws Sorren in from the back room, and he doesn't ask you if you're okay, and you're oddly grateful.
He simply bustles about- busy bird, he was- and continues doing whatever work he'd been doing beforehand, mostly ignoring your presence, and when the white noise of movement started to fade out, you start asking questions.
"I've got to ask -- how did you get that scar on your eye?" Your voice is still weak, but it's mostly steady now, and you're thankful for it.
Sorren rolls his eyes. "Wow...you certainly don't shy away from the blunt questions, do you? I got the scar from Will. Same for him, gave the guy a few scars on his face in return. He'll no doubt say the scars just mean we are 'best buds for life' as he likes to put it, but we both got them when we first met each other and got into a dispute when we chose the same steal. Eventually we competed, got caught, fought then laughed about it later. That's all there is to it really. Doesn't mean you should go out and get your own scars. I seriously thought I lost an eye there for a while..."
You smile, because that's exactly what Willy told you to do, and when Sorren doesn't continue, you start up another round of questions.
"I keep hearing a lot of people mention Seraphina's name, and so many seem to respect her in some way. What else can you tell me about her, if you don't mind?"
"It's difficult to really pinpoint the truths from the many tales told about her throughout the centuries, so it's hard to say. She is the leader of the nomadic group called the Mystics, humans with strange, violet eyes and mysterious auras, and has been for many, many years it seems...I'm sure you were able to tell she is no ordinary being though, when you spoke with her during your time in the Mystic Glades. From what I heard, she read your fate; Seraphina rarely offers such services to others. She usually just refuses to do so, but for those she does do readings for, they are often the ones you read about in history books for their great or terrible feats that seem to shape the world thereafter.
"Many call her the 'Fate Weaver', and some believe she is one of the Ancients of old. There is obviously more to her than meets the eye, since the name Seraphina is depicted in various art and ancient script alongside the Seraphim dragon -- an Ancient with six wings who was said to be one of the first beings to touch these lands...it makes you wonder just who she is exactly and what her past may hold. I've always been curious myself actually, maybe one day we will learn more if she decides to tell us. However, knowing her it's bound to be cryptic or confusing. Heh, I think she actually enjoys doing that to people."
Huh. So Seraphina was an Ancient, then.
You mentally cross her off the list of normal people you know, bringing that list down to exactly zero.
"I've been wondering, just what is it that you do exactly for the Watch Crows?"
"What does it look like? Obviously, I babysit you and hundreds of homeless creatures..." he seems content to leave it there, and instead glare at his back until he sighs and his shoulders sag slightly.
"Fine, I suppose I can go ahead and give you a bit of insight at this point, since you've been doing somewhat, moderately well at your training exercise without utterly failing. My jobs usually require me to dispose of individuals that would do the realm harm. For example, if a group of bandits is terrorizing a town, I usually strike at the heart of the matter and get rid of their leader -- you'd be surprised how easily they fear a 'demon bird' as they like to call it. Or if a capital's monarch becomes a tyrant, I am sent to quietly silence the beast before it gets out of hand. We quell wars before they begin, we keep secrets that would totally destroy a nation, or...they send their agents to fetch a curious individual who wishes to open things they shouldn't touch.
"I guess if you want to give a title to my profession, it would be an assassin, so I will not try to sway you from that obvious truth. I know what I am and what it is I do, if it changes your opinion of me, I understand. However, I'm being honest with you when I say that I hope you succeed at proving your worth to the other Watch Crows. It would be a real bummer if you were the next target they asked for me to dispose of -- I mean, whose hair would Muzu have to roll in then?"
It occurs to you that if you'd fled the city, or outright refused to gather feathers, or done anything at all threatening, Sorren would've been the one to kill you. And still might, if you fail the test that you've apparently been taking.
The stakes in this game are very, very high, and even if you win you might end up dead.
It's a sobering and oddly calming thought.
"So Sorren, got anything new for me today?" you ask, finally standing, and your legs only shake a little at the weight.
He seems surprised- whether over the fact that you're asking for pets or that you're standing, you can't say, but he gives a slow nod.
"You said I owed you three times the feathers, and I got 'em," you say, trying to sound as pompously triumphant as possible, and Sorren rolls his eyes with a snort.
Not quite the laugh you're going for- you'll get it out of him one of these days, or your name isn't the Sealer- but you'll take it, and he gestures for you to follow him outside.
You follow, with every creature you have with you at the time pressed close and very nearly tripping you several times in the ten steps it is to get safely out the door.
You're immediately set upon by your Slepnir, who, despite their generally calm and better-than-thou nature, nose at you with concern, and you spend a great deal of time assuring them that you were fine, no, you don't have to go back to Sorren, no, you don't have to eat "common Slepnir" food.
You only look up when the sound of approaching hooves draws your attention- and your day is immediately better.
"I've always liked Elkrin in particular, they're very quiet and peaceful creatures. They also don't ask me fifty questions every day." The last part of his description is pointed and harsh, but you've come to expect nothing less of Sorren and as such totally ignore him in favor of gently stroking the lead Elkrin's nose- a pretty green doe with a... castle on her back?
Yep, that's a castle.
Well, it's not quite as weird as the zombie Elkrin from when you first opened the Gates, so you shrug and roll with it.
Rosie and Torch seem particularly interested in the castles on their backs, and poke around the Elkrin a bit before zipping inside of the little pygmy Elkrin's castle, and there's a burst of light as several other Fire Flower Glasswork dragons zip out- apparently miffed at being startled out of their home.
You make a high pitched noise and Sorren jumps, staring at you in alarm.
"Sorren, they live in the tiny castles."
"Er... yes, they do," Sorren says slowly, sounding very cautious and mildly concerned.
"Sorren, the tiny Glassworks live in tiny palaces and ride around with the Elkrin."
He just nods this time, apparent concern for your mental state growing.
"Sorren, that's so cute."
He sighs.
As before, you ignore him in favor of the Elkrin and you're immediately more fond of them that you were two seconds prior.
Sorren leaves you to bond with the Elkrin, and you bring your train of creatures down to the shred of grass between the river and your fence, dropping off the Slepnir- they don't seem to mind terribly that they're sharing with the Elkrin now, and you quietly note that you're going to need a bigger staying area for them soon.
You spend most of the rest of the day down there- quite a few curious citizens- more than you've seen recently, at least- come around to look at the Elkrin- a rarity inside city walls- and you invite them to help you name them.
The stone patterned doe- the only one without a castle- ends up being named Dyke- which, according to the man who'd come up with the name, was the name of the walls built around villages and croplands to help defend them.
She seems to like it, so you accept it.
A teenager who'd swung around tells you to name the blue buck Bowerstone, and the green doe Fairfax, but doesn't tell you why, only rather cryptically saying that "some will know".
You accept it, because weirder things have happened.
A little girl- barely above six years old, probably- tells you that the pygmy Elkrin's name is Allie for Alabaster City with such conviction in her eyes that you cave immediately.
At least the Elkrin are named now.
You collect with Muzu for the rest of the day- finally haggling the bigger wagon you were looking for off of a merchant, and move the box of Runes and the rest of your already dwindling food supplies to it, surrendering the previous one to the Servals.
Before you know it, the sun is going down, and you're beyond exhausted, but you don't think you can bring yourself to sleep, with the terrors that await you there.
So you don't, and collect through the night, with only the moon and Muzu to keep you company.
~~~
~~~
Chapter 6-
No matter what anyone says, not sleeping for twenty-four hours is a nightmare in its own right.
You feel kind of like a zombie- you feel sluggish and you're beyond tired, but the thought of sleeping is something even worse- you hold onto the hope that when you finally do pass out you'll be too exhausted to dream, and contemplate calling on one of the Ancients to help you out. The Illusion Ancient you'd met with Seraphina- Mahamayah, they prefer to be called- could probably counteract nightmares. Faldinreach always had a calming effect, the Faded Galaxy might be able to help you take your mind off things at least- Nawatt, the Ancient of the Past, could probably offer some peace of mind with his historical knowledge.
Heck, you'd even take Snafu at this point, even if the most he'd do is laugh at your pain and scramble some buildings while he was at it.
It's probably considered cheating, by Watch Crow standards, and since none of the Ancients appear before you in their usual flashy burst of colors and shattered reality, you presume they're not going to help you with this one.
You're on your own again, it seems.
Muzu caws loudly to announce his arrival, and you smile as he circles you a few times before lighting on your outstretched hand and triumphantly dropping a pristine black crow feather into your palm.
Well, not entirely alone.
Another feather in the bag, literally and metaphorically speaking.
You walk through the desolate streets- more and more people are staying indoors these days, as terrified as you are of the darkness lurking just outside the white walls of Alabaster- and make a few circles around the statue of the lady with the Rune Dragon on her arm, looking once again for some sort of plaque or something describing who she was, and yet again, come up empty.
You make a mental note to ask Sorren- and speaking of, he should be up by now.
Time to go ruffle your favorite grumpy bird-mans' feathers.
You poke your head through the Aviary door, sliding inside when you don't immediately see Sorren; the back door you see him slip through a lot is cracked open, and this was a prime opportunity to see exactly what was back there.
You stealthily- or as stealthily as you can- slide over to the open door, barely suppressing the urge to tuck-and-roll across the floor like they do in all the books, and peek through.
It's a lot akin to the stables in your Homestead, actually- plenty of space in the rafters for Rune Dragons to fly and Servals and Ligers to climb- sturdy enough to hold a Griffin or Drake, as well, though you don't see any, nor any Ligers- with stalls for Elkrin and Slepnir kept neatly along the sides, riding gear for all of the various ride-able species on racks near the back.
"Alright, freshly picked cinnamon apples for the Sleipnir ladies with a side of daffodils -- don't you dare spit those back out missy, or you aren't getting any dessert. And for the dires, nice big slabs of sirloin stakes since you're such good boys for guarding our Sealer friend while I'm away. Hey! What did I tell you servals about hanging on me? You know I don't do hugs! I swear you guys are as bad as Fiore about wanting attention...fine, but just this once -- I don't want you becoming spoiled like the fancy slipslops over there."
Sorren was once again covered in Servals, a few Dire Wolves following close on his heels, and you barely repress a laugh and step back from the door.
What a novelty, Sorren being nice! You can use this as blackmail for something later, you're sure.
You slip away and leave him to it.
You return back outside to Muzu- he's hopping anxiously along the fence, keeping as far away from your wagon as he can without leaving you entirely, and you peer curiously into it.
Nope, one flaming baby Rune, two eggs, Flufferbuns and Tee, and the remaining bags of food.
Jade is lounging by it, tongue lolling out of her mouth and dual tails thumping quietly on the ground, so no one had messed with any of your things, but Muzu was certainly acting jumpy.
Muzu takes off when he sees you, cawing frantically, but follows you on your usual route through the city- though he stays well away from any smoke from chimneys, where he'd usually fly straight through them, and he's avoiding the Blue Flame Runes like the plague.
You wonder what could've possibly happened to make him so paranoid of fire all of a sudden- he hasn't even tried to roll in your hair yet.
You remember about twenty minutes later that you were supposed to ask Sorren about the statue of the lady, and a voice in the back of your mind that sounds suspiciously like Sorren whispers "focus".
You might finally be going insane.
You return to the fence, deciding to wait a bit so Sorren can finish feeding his adopted creatures, and find Muzu chattering anxiously to another crow- except it's not; another of the Finders Keepers Runes, apparently. Spoons and Rosie immediately take off to meet the other Rune Dragon- it has a pot? You think it's a pot. It has a pot on its head, and a silver necklace around its tail, and seems friendly enough, and chitters at you happily when you walk up to greet it.
Well, it'd worked with the others.
You shove the rune in your shirt, and Spoons and Rosie whine when they're not allowed to press close to your body heat, so you let them join their new friend and walk around for a bit with them constantly darting in and out of your shirt in a game of tag.
Eventually, they calm down enough to return to the wagon, and you name your new rune Peter Pan for obvious reasons.
This time, when you enter the Aviary, Sorren is being his usual grumpy self and standing in his usual place behind the desk.
He doesn't knowledge your presence, but Muzu darts to him and starts nibbling on his hair worriedly.
Sorren doesn't seem too concerned about it, so you take it as another Muzu-ism and move on.
"I've been passing by this statue in the middle of the city, depicting a young woman with a rune dragon rising up from her arm as if to take flight. Do you know who she is? She seems important, but I'm not wholly familiar with Alabaster history," you ask by way of greeting, making yourself at home in one of his chairs, and he looks up in time to glare at you before speaking.
"Hm, remind me to sit you down one of these nights so that you can learn about it. It is important to know the lore and history of all prominent capitals, regardless of your origins or inability to focus," he sounds irritated, but when you don't react he sighs and continues.
"The statue you see in the middle of Alabaster City depicts the first human to magically bond with a creature from these lands. She was also said to be the first who learned how to channel Eldemore's ever-present magic through her, due to the unlikely aid of a small rune dragon that she secretly befriended during those dark times. It was a historic feat, since humans do not inherently posses magic in their blood like the other races and creatures. Instead, they have the remarkable ability to filter it through them with the help of a bonded magical creature or entity.
"Her name was Amalthea, and it took a young child back then to teach humanity as a whole that they were more than just destructive creatures that plagued the realm. She is an icon to many, even to this day, and it is through her example that humans now work alongside the creatures of Eldemore in almost everything that they do...a trait that I am jealous of, since magical bonding is somewhat complicated for us halfborns, but Muzu and I get by just fine with our own connection." He starts shuffling around behind the desk, looking for something.
"Now let's see, I know I saw some childrens' history textbooks around here somewhere. That should be a good place to start you off. We'll give you some homework to do in your spare time when you're not searching for feathers."
You shudder at the mention of homework- involuntary reaction- but you did want to learn more about Alabaster history- and it might be a good opportunity to talk to the Ancient of the Past again, since he knew all things history.
You wonder if you're supposed to be like Amalthea- the child who brought the world together.
If she were still around, she'd probably punch you.
You're the villain in this story; you unleashed Oblivion upon the world- you're driving Eldemore to war.
You must've made a face, because Sorren drops the books on his desk with a thump.
You startle, but Sorren doesn't meet your gaze.
"If you've got some more feathers, I've got some creatures for you," he says, disappearing into the back room.
You gasp a handful of feathers- you should probably be more careful with the things- and drop them in an undignified heap on Sorren's desk.
Sorren brings out- statues?
Otterling statues, balancing on their tails and around their sphere of choice- three of the things, but either Sorren's stronger than you gave him credit for or the Otterlings are lighter than they look.
"These may seem like ornate alabaster statues, but turn your back for a minute, and they may be gone. They tend to move around when no one's watching. It will be interesting to see if you can catch them in the act," he says, brushing off his hands on his pants- and hey, there's another question you vow to ask when Sorren's in a better mood.
Why in Eldemore does he wear so many belts that don't hold up his pants.
You open your mouth to ask, and he glares you down.
You shut it.
Another time.
You maneuver the Otterlings into your wagon, (you learn that Sorren is both stronger than he looks and that the Otterlings are lighter than you thought) standing them precariously on their pedestals- Flufferbuns and Tee don't like actually having to walk somewhere for once- and you bring them down to the grass by the river, because while you don't know what statues and water are like, most Otterlings like water. Most of them.
You set them up randomly around until their positions are aesthetically pleasing and sit down to wait.
They are very good at being statues, and you're beginning to think Sorren played you- you thought that was Willy's specialty, and you're telling him Sorren is stealing his gig the next time you see him- until the teenager from yesterday comes to ask you why you're staring at the statues- you tell them that they're actually Otterlings, and apparently only move when you're not looking at them.
The teenager pales considerably- mutters something about weeping angels, turns tail, and runs.
Shame. You were hoping they'd help you name them.
After another hour of alternating between watching the statues and reading the books Sorren gave to you, you manage to give the Otterlings names.
The one with a blue flame in its' ball- Muzu had cawed very loudly in alarm at seeing it- was Pearlesque, because you think the Otterling has same color as a pearl, and you're not that creative under duress. The one with the cracked ball is Moai- after some statues you'd read about (read: skimmed over briefly) in one of the books in your rush to read about Amalthea, and the one with the sash was Quince, for no other reason than that was a word you'd never heard and it was in the book.
You think not sleeping is starting to take it out of you.
You look up from the book, and you could swear the statues were a bit closer.
Definitely losing it.
You watch them for a little longer, and Muzu lands on the Otterling with the cracked ball- Moai- and suddenly the statue seems to come to life, hissing and, dropping their ball, picks up their pedestal with their tail and waves it at Muzu threateningly.
Muzu nearly falls out of the air in surprise, and if you weren't sitting down, you might've.
Muzu flies away in a panic and the Otterling returns to their frozen statue state, curled around their ball, and you take a few moments to recover.
You think back to every statue you'd ever seen and it's no wonder they don't like birds.
The Runes and crows stay far, far away from the Otterlings, so you return to your reading.
When you look up next the Otterling statues are right next to you, and as you look at them in confusion, all three suddenly lunge toward you and you actually scream this time.
Apparently, Sorren hears, because he pokes his head out of the Aviary window in alarm, looking to where you lie in the grass, clutching your hand over your rapidly beating heart, with the Otterlings falling off their pedestals in chirping laughter.
You think you see Sorren laugh, and oh, this calls for war.
He's definitely laughing, and while he's laughing at you and not with you, you count it as a victory, and mentally go to war with Sorren because he better not think that now that you know he can laugh, he'll get off with not doing it.
It seems your Otterlings are pranksters- and you have to admit, if you were a statue, you'd certainly spend most of your time jumping out at people and scaring them out of their wits.
You manage to sit up again and the Otterlings rapidly return to their pedestals, and you huff and poke one in the snout in retribution.
"Alright, you, we're gonna make us some plans," you say, huddling the Otterlings around you.
"You like pranks. I like pranks. I also want to make Sorren laugh because he's a grumpy bird and needs to. I need you to help me come up with the worst puns and bird jokes you can think of.
"Mark my words, my marble friends, we will make Sorren laugh!"
You think the Otterlings agree, and even Muzu seems to clack his beak in agreement.
You plan for several hours- walking around with the Otterlings in your wagon and Muzu flying overhead- careful not to get near the Otterlings and still anything related to fire- and collect feathers while you're at it, and half of your plans are probably impossible and the other half are improbable, but that's what you get when you haven't slept in thirty-six hours.
When night comes, you more pass out than fall asleep, and dream of nothing.