Shift.
The sandy horizon slid away, and Mara and Nimeda clasped hands as the world moved around them. When she opened her eyes, a wide cement square surrounded her like an urban prison.
"I've been to this place before,"
Mara remarked. It had a name. The Red Square, yes that was it. She remembered the oddity of the name in so much that it was surely incorrect to assign such a color to otherwise bland cement. Her narrow gaze swept the scene, pausing on the archway with a gasp like it leaped up and surprised her.
Hastily, she focused on the flimsy white nightgown and willed her attire into something more formal. In its place came a sleek black dress, floor length with black lace modestly covering her shoulders.
She glanced at Nimeda and smiled softly, clasped her hands gently before her, and together greeted the Jon.
Something about him stirred her sweet smile to a playful one.
"Hello. I am Mara."
Dark eyes glittered with new found cheerfulness as she looked him over. Her pets would not like him though. She had the sense he would snap at one if given the chance.
She pointed high above them,
"I like the horses. That's my favorite part."
Unlike Nimeda's carefulness, Mara was fond of the arch, but she made certain to maintain a certain sense of decorum in its presence. It seemed important.
Edited by
Daiyu, Sep 13 2016, 08:41 PM.
An old friend? Jon wondered why he'd never run into the girl before, or why Nimeda hadn't revealed her sooner. Besides, Mara was young, practically still a child, it seemed. Although appearances could be deceiving. The gil seemed to have a grasp on the nature of this place, changing her garb with conscious thought. Another spirit walker, then. Did she mean that she'd seen the archway in the waking world? Or here, in the Spirit World? Fascinating. Yet another mystery uncovered in this place. Nimeda was full of surprises.
"No, I haven't seen the other you again,"
he said to Nimeda.
"I wish I knew why she wasn't sleeping well. But in the waking world I'm very far away."
Jon thought back to the incident on the train with a shiver. The girl that had been taken by the sickness.
"She seemed uncertain of herself -- her powers. Afraid. You, but different than you. Things have changed in the waking world. She doesn't have to hide. She can get help."
Hopefully, at least, she didn't have to hide. There was still the Atharim to contend with. But she was as exposed to them without help as with, and he was certain that there would be civilians coming out to the open.
"Maybe there's a way you can communicate with her. It's important. You can't exist here without her in the waking world."
At Mara's mention of the horses, Jon regarded the statues. There was an old Navajo tale of the Sun God carrying the sun across the sky on the back of his many-colored magical horses. Sometimes he chose the blue horse, sometimes the pearl one. But on days where the storms came, he chose the ones that were red or black. Jon never cared much for the Sun God stories. The Sun God sounded like an unforgiving despot who deserved to be struck down by Coyote. But was the Ascendancy's choice of colors here perhaps a portent of a storm still to come?
"What do you like about them?"
he asked Mara, his curiosity piqued.
Edited by
Jon Little Bird, Sep 14 2016, 01:32 PM.
She shrugged away Jon's concerns, mostly because she didn't know enough of the waking world to make sense of them. Or if she did she wasn't interested in expending the effort. She had been concerned, but her worries eased -- clearly her Other was sleeping now, and for the moment that was all that mattered. "I sent someone to her,"
she reassured him. At least she hoped Calvin was able to find her. She supposed the world was a big place, but she trusted to the fates.
Nimeda lifted her head to gaze up at the Arch, curious, but somewhat reluctant to go near. Mara's sudden formality was unsurprising, if she didn't fully comprehend why. But it felt right. Just as Nimeda kept a respectful distance.
The conversation between Jon and Nimeda was rather odd, but Mara grew distracted and ceased listening. Her eyes were drawn upward again, but beyond the arch, they roamed the gray expanse overhead that passed for sky. There were never birds, nor beast, none that Mara ever saw in the dream land. They existed inside the nightmares, though. Snapping jaws and gnashing teeth were common within the black storms. None were on the horizon yet, though.
"Hmm?"
She realized Jon asked a question. "Oh, the horses?"
Her gaze fell back to the stallions. Their spindly legs jut out over the edge of the arch, reaching for that next step, but frozen they would never reach it. "I guess it's because I've never seen a horse in person and they seem so interesting, strong, and even scary. I would be afraid to be trampled."
Her voice trailed off as her imagination spun the tale of rampaging horses, trampling everything in their path. Yes, that was good.
Blinking, she smiled softly. "What's your favorite part?"
Nimeda kept herself back as if there was something unsettling about the arch. Not so much her companion Mara. Something about her set off a ticklish feeling right at the base of his neck. Not goosebumps, like when a woman embraced the power. Just a sense of general unease.
"I would be afraid the be trampled, too,"
he told Mara. "But not by the horses. By the man who made this..."
he rapped his knuckle against the base, "...this thing. I don't like that it exists at all. But I like what I can learn about the man who created it. That's my favorite part."
It was a statement that he would transform the world with the awesome might of the Power. And perhaps they would. But the man who needed a monument to his own power was an arrogant one. That Brandon had chosen to destroy Lenin's mausoleum in its creation was telling. He would choose to ignore the past and forge ahead with reckless abandon, until history repeated itself. Maybe they would bury the Ascendancy here when he died, before his patrons and privileges ripped the CCD apart and plunged the world into darkness, or channelers of the Power would take advantage of the chaos and set themselves up as kings and queens of the world. How much more of the world would he trample and consume, first?
What motivated him to such arrogance? What kept him up at night, pushing him forward with plans like these? "I wonder what he dreams about,"
Jon mused, speaking almost as if to himself. "The Ascendancy. What things frighten you, you so-called god?"
"What can you learn about the man who created it?"
She spoke curiously, but with no burning desire for an answer. The arch subdued her, truth told. She was not afraid; there was even a snaking fondness when she cast her eyes on it. The bubbles of memory popping against the surface of her thoughts rang with warning, though, and she couldn't quite put her finger on the cause. It was distracting. Almost like she was expecting to be chastised! But for what? And from whom?
Nimeda's expression crumpled into a frown. She rubbed at her face, swirling around the headachy thoughts like she hoped to displace them.
She glanced at Mara, wondering if Jon's sneaky words would make a mark, then lost her train of thought with a blink. She ought to pull them away from the arch, or at least deflect the tone of conversation, but her motivations were too slippery to catch. She couldn't quite decide what bothered her, so for now she held her tongue; an unusual display of self control. If Jon was interested in someone's dreams, why did he not simply find them? He must know he could.
Mara quizzically studied Jon as though he was the professor speaking on subjects far beyond her comprehension - or perhaps on subjects she found disinteresting.
Jon spoke with passion and a sharpness of tongue she was glad was not turned upon her. If only he could be reminded of the immense possibilities afforded one of their own within dreamland. Nimeda was on the correct path, but Mara felt she needed a push to traverse it. She certainly shouldn't journey alone, either.
Mara smiled warmly and cupped Nimeda's hand in her own, squeezing it conspiratorially.
"Jon wonders what he dreams about."
She bit the tip of her tongue with glee, and turned back to Jon. "If you find him, I'll send him one of my pets."
A wry smile twisted her lips, but it was dampened by a sudden chilling flush of wrongness. "But let's leave this place first."
Wth her gaze narrowed upon the arch, she was sure she didn't want him to see.
Jon blinked as he watched Nimeda's expression change. Something was bothering her, upsetting her even. Perhaps he should probe further as to the cause. But the words wouldn't form. His heart thudded in his chest. Why the hesitation? He kept his face smooth. His hands felt so out of place so he stuck them behind his back.
"I'm happy for the chance to see me again,"
he finally got out. He turned to Mara. That itching on his neck was increasing, like the buzzing of an insect in his ear. Something wasn't right. But what was it she'd said? "Yes we should leave. But your pets, you say?"
He got the feeling that Brandon wouldn't like these pets, at least from Mara's tone. Noah's warning about him putting his hand in traps flashed through his mind, but he dismissed it. "There is a space in between this world and the waking world where everyone dreams. He'll be there, somewhere. I'm curious about these pets of yours."
"It isn't a very good idea,"
she said to Mara. "He wouldn't like it."
Her face scrunched up, fighting against the tide for a more coherent explanation. This wasn't a good idea. This wasn't a good idea at all! But her protests only formed in a ball of feeling, nothing she could even hope to explain, and in the end she gave up. Her breath puffed out in a long sigh. Grasping at memories took too much effort. It was so much easier to forget. Not to mention far more pleasant.
Despite her reticence she didn't let go of Mara's hand, and had squeezed it back. Whatever reluctance the arch stoked in her, it didn't dampen her willingness to skip blithely into mischief. The tide would take her wherever it willed unless someone fished her out of the depths and set her to another path. But she was happiest in the current.
Nimeda swung their hands lightly back and forth as she had before. "Yes! Let's go. Anywhere else!"
Something of her usual self rekindled at the idea, and she held out a hand for Jon to join them in a closed circle. Something of Bear's warning drifted in the back of her mind. She smiled brightly, but the words blurted out in haste, like a light had suddenly switched on in her head. "I'm not sure you'd like Mara's pets, Jon. They're very bitey."
Mara nodded slowly as she came to a reluctant agreement. "You are right, Nimeda. Let's leave anyway. Jon, where do you want to go? My pets don't like you I think. I'm not sure why. They're usually not shy."
The description of the in-between furrowed her brow low. It seemed familiar but Mara rarely ventured there. The vastness was boring to her despite the infinite stars.
Mara allowed her arms to swing under Nimeda's momentum, and she looked to the girl with sisterly affection.
"Where shall we go next? Are there any others like us to meet?"