What Dreams May Come [Aurin]

[Rune]

67 Glade 123, Predawn

Aurin was following someone through a bazaar, being pulled by the hand through stalls and past vendors, the day was bright and laughter could be heard between the hawkers calls and the sounds of bargaining. All of it was muffled as whoever was leading the redhead ducked them through a display of hanging scarves, each piece of fabric some exquisitely soft or smooth, others scratching and catching as his face a beard. When they finally came out into the open the noonday sun was so bright he was blinded for a long moment and the hand that had caught onto his slipped away before he could open his eyes properly. Whoever it had been was lost in the constantly shifting crowd before he could catch sight of who they were. Every time he tried to concentrate on specific faces they moved too quickly, everything was moving and spinning in such a way that even the ground under his feet was hard to really hold into focus.

Even without the guiding hand his feet seemed to know where they were going. Drawn across the oddly blurring market square he found himself in front of a building that he knew, the only thing that seemed willing to allow him to focus on it. The Menagerie.

The door was open and music was drifting from inside, more laughter and sounds less specific in description though not at all difficult to understand the meaning of. As he stood looking, unable to cast his eyes away from the dark opening that seemed to be pulling at him, cool and inviting as he suddenly realized he was sweating in the searing sunlight. Suddenly there was someone behind him, a body cool and familiar to the curves and planes of his own.

Brother

A voice cool and hot at once came into his head. The one pressing against Aurin's back cast a shadow just long enough to cover his whole form and nothing else, but it was enough to temper the burning of the light.

I have waited for you

A hand that he had known intimately, if briefly wrapped around the back of his head and focused his eyes again on The Menagerie, on the door. The darkness inside slipped out toward him, warping into the shape of a hand and beckoning. He couldn't look away, he couldn't blind, the hand, larger then a man grown filled Aurin's chest with Dread and Longing in measures so equal and primal as to drive all else from him.

Come to me

The final words rang loud enough to send his ears ringing and ripped him into wakefulness. Aurin found himself back in his bed, in Zaichaer, alone in the dark.

[Aurin]

Aurin woke up in a cold sweat. He woke up with a dagger made of shame twisting in his guts. The Menagerie had been impenetrable when he and Imogen had found it seasons ago, or at least that was what he had told himself. It had been easier to play the odds, calculate, and play the hero here and there. But the coven of illusions saw through such things. He wasn't able to descend from the Sky Islands immediately, but when he had his boots on the ground once more and was left to his own devices, he took a roundabout route—both to lose anyone who might be tracking him and to put off the inevitable—to one of the gates that led to the Market, and then stood before the Menagerie.

Though he was what they had called a master of both projecting illusions and seeing through them, he could not for the life of him sense his way through the barrier that stood between the cabaret and the rest of the world. He was the type of man who would consider Eshar just another notch on his belt, and yet here he was. When nobody was looking, he tried to do the right thing. Or perhaps he was doing the stupid thing. He knew where the covens were hiding, but he wasn't asking for help. If this was a suicide mission, Arry had a kingdom kowtowing to him, and Torin was a lordling beloved of his liege lords. Elwes, Rivin, Ashoka, and the others—they knew some of the structure of people he had built and could either use it or move on.

"All right," he muttered, half to himself and half to the barrier. "I'm here."

He edged closer, hoping for any sort of hint as to what would happen when he crossed the line, wondering if he could erect some sort of ward around himself against whatever it was, or if he could just vault past it. Valencia might know... but then, if it were possible, a Railrunner would have done so already.

"D'you just want me to... walk in?"

[Rune]

The Market was a shambles, sometimes literally; figures shambling here and there, not really alive any longer, but not really dead either. They didn't seem able to recognize reality and were therefore easier to avoid that most, and yet... something about the idea of letting one of them near enough to touch sent a rising sense of panic through any who laid eyes on these half-alive. The more obviously dangerous beings that had filled the area were not to be seen as Aurin returned. Either they had found better hunting grounds in the time since, or something was pushing them back.

It wasn't quite, but the sounds that could be heard, sometimes laughter, sometimes screams, mixed in with dozens of sounds a mind might tell itself it knew but couldn't name coming from seemingly random spots all through The Market area. Stalls and buildings were crushed and tossed about as though by a giant toddler, or a Mist Storm. A few of the buildings were mostly intact, including The Menagerie, or, at least, it appeared both intact and untouched, bright sunlight pouring over it, and only it, where the overcast bite of Frost still held all the surrounding area in its grip.

Where the golden bubble of light had seemed to push him back months before, now it seemed to draw him in, a call soft but sweet, inviting. As he stepped inside the distinct line of separation warmth enveloped him, chasing the chill instantly from his skin but without the intensity that would cause him to break out in a sweat. It felt like a late Glade day, the embrace of the sun contrasted by a pleasantly cool breeze. The air smelled as it had on his first visit, a combination of perfumes; flowers, exotic spices, frying treats both sweet and savory mixing with something elusive and arcane that told the tale of world magic being done all around.

If he turned to look he would not see the destroyed remains of The Market behind him, but the space as it had been, flowing with people, speaking to each other, looking over wares on offer, going about their business or pleasure. Some even walked by him and into the open door of The Menagerie where from floated the sounds of music and revelry. As he approached nothing seemed off, even to his Semblance trick. Had he not known that the city lay in ruins there was nothing to tell the tale.

No one answered when Aurin asked the question, though a passerby glanced at him with a look of mild confusion on their face. The Menagerie still sang to him, the voice wordless and heard not by his ears but by other senses.

[Aurin]

Aurin missed the sun, even though most of his work was more easily done at night. The fucking eclipse needed to be dealt with; at least one of the towers had apparently become fixed in the south, and the stars had come out. He just wanted it all to happen faster. These things were beyond his pay grade and he was more powerful, more in the know than most. The Menagerie painted a pretty picture of the past, and he decided to play along. Even he couldn't tell fact from fiction here, at least not in his normal way. He hoped his wits would be enough; it had been some time since he hadn't had tricks to fall back on. There was no time like the present to sharpen them, though.

He settled for habit, made his way to the bar, and said to the vaguely familiar person there, "I'm looking for Eshar. They are expecting me."

Everyone here, real or not, was likely to be in the covens, else they wouldn't know how to find the Market, but he didn't think it prudent to identify himself as Myshalarai. Perhaps if more time had passed between his initiation and the cataclysm, the cataclysm and this day, he might have known signs and countersigns, passwords and hand gestures. But he didn't, so he was direct.

Perhaps the truth would set Eshar free.

Or perhaps something that had been Eshar was reaching out to someone they sensed, someone they knew.

He didn't know. This was stupid. He was being stupid.

But here he was.

He passed a coin nonchalantly for the information, for the communication, hoping it would be enough to keep this farce moving forward. He was damned if he was going to be plagued by nightmares for the rest of his life because one coven in particular had been hit hard by the rift and the mist storms that followed.

[Rune]

The inside of the building also appeared as it once had, patrons of various kinds sitting at the bar or tables being served by barmaids and what could be presumed to be coven members. There was a troop of three musicians on the small stage off to one side, playing and singing something lively at a volume that was high enough that people at other tables than ones own wouldn't be likely to overhear but not so loud that people at the same table would have difficulty speaking to each other. All was at it should be, except...

Sometimes, from the corners of the eye, things blurred, glimpses of ruin could be seen for a fraction of a second then gone. More disturbing than that, as the bartender turned toward Aurin, handsome face parting in an inviting smile the whole scene flashed into something almost the same, except instead of brightly lit it glowed darkly and every face he could see was twisted. Each monster shape was turned towards him, mouths too wide, teeth raised in points, eyes hungry. The image was gone as quickly as the blurred side-ways glimpses but the shapes of the faces were too familiar. They looked like the face of the youngest whisper, a boy named Rick had transformed into something with that face when the mists had touched him. The bartender, young, handsome and untainted was looking at him again, an expectant expression creasing his brow if not marring his smile.

"Eshar? Busy I'm afraid. Why don't you sit for a minute and have a drink while you wait?" Without waiting for an order he poured a glass of something from a pitcher glistening with condensation that promised a something refreshing. Placing the mug down on the counter he nodded to the seat nearest the redhead.

"Could do with some company myself, no one seems interested in chatting today." His expression altered subtly towards hopeful, eyes drifting down the lithe body before him, his body shifting in a way Aurin would recognize as easy as breathing.

Leaning closer, so his arms rested on the bar top he offered a grin that was perfectly balanced between open interest and shy desire.

"I go on break in a few minutes, if you sit till then I can show you the upstairs myself..."

[Aurin]

"I suppose you would know the upstairs better than most," he replied affably, taking the seat and claiming the drink with his hand. He didn't drink, though. No, he couldn't tell if the flashes of nightmare vision were any truer than what he was seeing now, but the hairs on the back of his neck were raised. He had always claimed he was no actor, but he was certainly acting like nothing whatever was the matter.

The slipspace felt strange around here, but he was certain he could at least attempt to vault out if things turned south quickly. He didn't know if Eshar had truly called to him or something had used their voice. He didn't know if whatever version of Eshar he found would be a sane one. He supposed he could raise wards quick and dirty, but he didn't know if his intuitive shields would guard against whatever was here.

This was insane, but if he had learned anything from dealing with the criminally insane, it was that one oughtn't to attempt to prove their delusion false. One had to play along or else risk their ire and violence. Perhaps by playing along, he could suss out what was going on. If Eshar and the other Myshalarai were well and truly lost, at least he would know, and he supposed the Menagerie could be magically burned to the ground to protect the others from whatever had been birthed in this wicked womb.

"You're the sort of fellow I like to think I'd remember. Hmm, are you new here?"

His eyes ran up and down the bartender—well, as far down as he could spy from across the bar. His own smile was a juxtaposition of shamelessness and sincerity.

[Rune]

The man shrugged one shoulder, eyes clinging to Aurin as he sat,

"Not so new. I haven't seen you here though, maybe we just missed each other." Another flash of the Other reality caught just at the end of the words, the alternative face, even more grotesque up close, only the eyes still looked mostly human, save for the shockingly stark hunger pouring from within them.

"I'm glad you wandered in today though." The man fell half way between pretty and handsome, just old enough to avoid being called boyish, but sometimes his smile still held hints of it. A woman walked behind the bar from whatever space lay hidden behind the wall of alcohol and mixers. She was tying on an apron that matched the young bartenders but when her eyes fell on Aurin her distant, bored expression vanished for one of intense interest. Seeing her, and her look, the bartender stood, using his greater height to look down at his replacement, predatory and defensive. They locked eyes for a long moment before she lowered hers grumbling but moving to the far side of the long bar from Aurin.

Turning back to his guest the bartender gave him another smile, if anything, more eager than before. Untying his apron and throwing it over a hook he walked around the close side of the bar and nodded towards the stairs,

"Just this way." Leading, but only barely, so his body kept almost close enough to Aurin's to touch, it was more like they were walking together. His scent was clean, masculine with a hint of spice and green grass. At the top of the stairs he listened at one door before leading on toward another and listening at it. Whatever he heard pleased him, before he flashed another grin, teeth looking too wide even without the Other peeking through.

"Here we are," Opening the door he gestured inside, the room looked like that which you might be shown to in any respectable inn, if perhaps more lavish, but, aside from the bed and other furniture, it was empty. "Let's see if I can show you what you missed the other times you were here."

Entering the man began unbuttoning his form fitting vest, then his shirt. Laying bare his chest he sat on the bed and leaned back, stretching out his body to be seen. Beckoning he said, quietly,

"Shut the door before someone sees."

[Aurin]

The wastrel's mind was tagging everything, every detail magical and mundane. He offered the woman an apologetic shrug and followed the man. His own glamours tended to be subtle, but he could manage something like this. He just didn't know if the peeks behind the curtain were intentional or a testament to his scrying mind. His mind sought Eshars as they ascended, and he followed the man into the empty room, locking the door behind him.

Then he leaned back against the door, crossing his arms over his chest and his legs at the ankles, smirking.

"You don't seem to be the sort who worries overmuch about people seeing..." His eyes took in the show. He wondered if these were witches twisted by the Dread Mists. He wondered if they were still people under the twisting. That hunger made him want to shudder, but perhaps it could be leverage.

"So tell me true: what is it you most desire?"

His Semblance trick focused in on the man and the monster, trying to pierce the illusion and know his thoughts plainly. Aurin didn't want to be devoured, but if these creatures could speak and reason, perhaps he could speak and reason with them. Perhaps he could give them something they desired in order to get something he desired. Or perhaps Eshar was one of these creatures now and had only lured him here to devour him once and for all.

"I have a reputation for finding things for people, impossible things, even. But surely you desire more than a casual tumble here and there, don't you? The world outside is twisted and ruined, and things are never as they appear when it comes to my coven." He didn't want to pull a blade, but he had plenty of them if the need should arise.

[Rune]

The lusty grin turned into a laugh, not shy,

"I don't care if they see me, but you..." His eyes trailed again and he bit his lip, "Anyone here would want to take you for themselves."

Holding out a hand toward Aurin he beckoned again, then began unfastening the ties that held his breeches on. The question didn't seem to distract him from his intention as he slid the remaining garments down toward his ankles and kicked off his shoes. He was lovely, had the sort of body that made some people think of art, some of bedrooms, some of violence.

"You, right now, just you. We'll see what life brings later."

The hunger, the need of Aurin showed in every line of him now, disappointment edging its way onto his face when all the redhead did was lean back against the door and look.

"Come on, I don't have a lot of time before I have to be back." This was a lie, even one less skilled than Aurin would have heard it. Whatever sat on the bed, beautiful and needy was growing sloppier. Lust, or perhaps something even more primal seemed to haze over his vision as he leaned forward, looking on the point of rising to come to fetch Aurin to bed bodily. The room seemed to darken somehow, losing a little of its sunny glow, or, rather, the sun still shone through the window curtains, but the reality of the space felt like it was contracting, pulling in on the bartender laid bare.

"Not as many people come in anymore."

This seemed like an odd statement considering the common room downstairs had been at least half full. "Lots of people used to but..."

Clearing his throat, eyes returning a little from the lusted haze that had been glazing them he tried to lean back again, tried to return to the enticing expression, but couldn't quite manage it.

"Please," Legs parting he leaned back further, only avoiding laying down so he could keep his head raised so his eyes never lost sight of Aurin. "It's been so long."

[Aurin]

The man made him think of what Torin might have been like had he been raised right, a bit more confident in the world before they met. That made him sad. Even if this was one of Galeas' demons of lust whose kisses killed, or the twisted remains of a human who simply craved the affection of and connection with another. But Aurin's mask maintained his curious interest. He whistled appreciatively at the sight.

"If it were a year ago, we wouldn't be having this discussion... that is, our bodies would be talking. But Eshar called out to me, and the Menagerie has been behind a barrier since the rift opened up in the sky and the Dread Mists poured out. I can't see you, and that's a problem for me. I don't know what's going on here, what's happened to you and the others, but I mean to find out and to help you all if I can. I don't think I should be bangin' on this job, though. Not when your mask slips and everyone pretends like nothing's wrong, like nothing's changed, like the sun actually burns visibly in the sky anymore."

He paused, seeming to relent.

"Help me find Eshar. Help me figure out what's going on here. Then, if I don't think it's going to curse me..." His smile turned wicked. "We can talk." There should have been quotation marks around talk. Aurin had the confidence of a man who knew what he was doing, whether that was true or not. But he hoped Eshar was alive, and then they could discuss philosophical questions about their tricks—like whether one ought to copulate with a creature that only seemed human.