Makes The Whole World Blind [Pt 3]
Posted: Thu Nov 23, 2023 8:44 pm
Ash 2, 122
The witching hour struck, but the witch herself slept through it.
It shouldn’t have been any cause for surprise, really. After Imogen’s hard-won victory over Kegumu Rakaka, she had fled back to Drathera and recovered as best she could; it had taken almost two days to completely replenish her stores of aether. Even with the best salves she could buy from the Orkhan physicians, her hand still hadn’t completely healed from her boneheaded attack two months prior.
So once she’d returned north, the ork had decided to postpone any further heroics for a little while. Some time in Kalzasi to relax, recuperate and plan her next moves would be just what the doctor ordered.
(Although she’d already broken that particular command by flying across the continent since her check-up.)
Thus, she was back in the hotel Carina had booked two years past. She’d asked for the same room, but had to settle for a simulacrum across the hall- it was still cozy, and she could hardly complain. She just had a lot of nice memories of the other chamber.
Like the other chamber, this one was more cozy and spacious, designed more in the style of a Zaichaeri way-house’s room than one of the austere rooms preferred by the Avialae. The room was largely brown, with accent notes of green and red in the form of hangings, pillowy cushions and decorative marks. Cherrywood furniture supported a bowl of fruit left out, though the fruit was much less ripe and appetizing than it had seemed a year ago; perhaps betokening nothing, or perhaps an early victim of the Great Eclipse.
She’d already sent a letter to Moon inquiring about a time to discuss Kalzasi swordplay, and had begun looking at the wares about the local smithies. Probably long past time for her to acquire a smaller weapon, really. Her pact weapons were all quite powerful and practical, but if she was going to be going down into the cavernous Warrens soon…
But that was all for tomorrow. For now, Imogen slept like a log. And while the cat slept…
When the clock struck twelve, tiny purple eyes opened in the shadow of Imogen’s bed. One clump of shadows pulled itself from the rest, slinking slowly to the edge of the covers and inspecting the room, head swinging from side to side, nigh-invisible.
Kitty hopped silently to the dark floor below, taking upon himself the duty of guardian by inspecting the room. The young shadow jaguar felt particularly on edge this night, fur stiff and rough as he stalked about the chamber.
The baby cat did not really like this northern land. It was too cold, for one thing, and much too open. If Imogen wasn’t hunting for the both of them, Kitty wasn’t sure where he’d catch prey, or even what he’d hunt. Plus, they were awfully close to that dawn-place. He was glad he’d been hiding in the shadow when the shining one raised that sword, or he’d have certainly disintegrated amidst the tide of light.
Still, this room wasn’t so bad. It was enclosed and had a lot of little comfortable corners, and interesting smells. What it didn’t have, though, were movements. Kitty liked movements, and he wanted very much to see more of them.
Kitty leapt silently from ground to chair, then up onto the table, his body describing black arcs against the dark room. He slunk around the wooden bowl of fruit, fighting off an ancient feline urge to knock it off the table. Through a warrior’s discipline, he abstained.
Just then, there was a motion at the window. The little jaguar’s entire demeanor shifted, going from distraction to absolute monofocus in the space of an instant, his huge round violet eyes affixed on the window. Every shred of kinetic energy vanished, the cat growing almost preternaturally still.
The window creaked open, revealing three hunched little figures highlighted against the moonlight. Grey-skinned and covered with warts, but dressed in sashes of silky silver and rich purple, the goblins of dreams descended cautiously into the room, peering into each shadow with beady little eyes.
First one, then another of the goblins turned and shimmied down from the window, their curly-toed slippers making contact with the hardwood floor with little more than tiny puffs of dust.
The three tiny figures sneaked through the shadowy chamber with great care and caution; though the Orkhan woman on the bed slumbered heavily, it would take only one suspicious noise to draw the attention of some maid or nighttime clerk, and then the game would be up.
“How come we to this chamber dark?” the first spoke, his voice soft but high. “Upon a whim? Is this a lark?”
“An evil scheme we contemplate.” his brother replied, his voice almost comically low, “A long time come; the hour is late.”
“Yeah! Let’s fucking get her!” the third declared, maybe a little louder than he ought have.
The other two Nodlins turned to their brother, who shrunk a little bit beneath their glares. With exaggerated gaits, the three creatures of the dreaming world approached the sleeping orkhan girl, mouths stretched into ghastly, toothsome grins.
“This mortal creature blocked us long, refused to gambol to our song.”
“But now her irksome ward destroyed; we’ll give her nightmares long enjoyed!”
“Yeah! Now we’re going to fuck her up!”
The older two brothers glared at their youngest kin once more, the eldest of the three hissing an angry breath. The youngest blinked, looking wounded.
“What?”
“You’re meant to rhyme, you little tosser.” one of them whispered, glancing about the room.
“We’re the only ones here, brother! Why the fuck do we have to rhyme?”
“It is customary!” the eldest declared. “If we don’t follow the customs, we’re no better than she is.”
“Fine. Whatever. Let’s just give her the nightmare now.”
Behind the three Nodlins, Kitty grew silently nearer, visible only as violet eye-slits against the darkness. They were larger than him, but not by much; he thought that once he pounced, they would probably panic and flee. The little cat leaned back on its haunches, preparing to attack.
But as the three creatures produced gewgaws and totems glowing with the ebon auras of nightmare, there was a sudden flash of brilliant light in the air above Imogen. In the space of an instant, the entire room was illuminated as though it were high noon, every nook and cranny bathed in golden light.
All of a sudden, the pact Shield hung in the space between the sleeping Orkhan and the chamber ceiling, a great circular shield polished to a mirror-bright sheen, and entirely covered in gilt in the shape of cracks. Though the shield should have been reflective, instead of showing an image of the room and the three Nodlins, all which was visible beyond was darkness, stars… and a silvery tapir.
The little metal spirit didn’t perceive the world in the way mortals did, through light and sound and sense, but nor was it blind. It understood light and reflection, for one thing, and it could sense the constant shiftings of the blood of the world through magnetic influences. It perceived aether, either in the bright concentrations of metal or through dim reflection, as all elements were, on some level, of a kind.
When Imogen’s window opened, the tapir noticed through the shifting of the hinges and the sudden expansions throughout the room caused by the cooling winds. It felt the trinkets and fetishes carried by the odious creatures as they sneaked in. It could not understand their words, though it perceived their speech by way of vibration upon the various metallic surfaces of the room.
It did not exactly understand what they were, but wasn’t entirely clueless either. The layman would say that metal doesn’t sleep or dream; the blacksmith would know better. Thiovan’s halls were decorated with silver and gold and brass, and his soldiers armed with the slumbering shapes of swords and daggers.
The spirit’s options for responding, however, were limited. It had tied itself to the dreamer below, could manipulate her conjurings… but it could not summon them, not while they were locked away within her soul. Except, that is, for the shield, the totem which Imogen had first used to make her contract with the spirit, and which it had reforged against the light of the false Sundering.
So the tapir called forth the shield, letting its light wash over the bedchamber. It wasn’t sufficient to wake Imogen herself–she had slept through literal bombings, back in Zaichaer–but it was enough to spook the little goblin creatures, who immediately leapt away from the bed, fearing some kind of trap.
This caused the youngest of the three brothers to trip over Kitty, who let out a loud yowl of surprise and pain, which in turn drew muffled shouts and screams of surprise from the nightmare creatures.
(Imogen turned over in her sleep, but otherwise did not react to any of this.)
“Away, away, we must depart!” cried one, though still softly, “Or be entrapped by fiendish art!”
“You’ve won for now, but don’t forget- we never fail to settle debt!”
“Let’s get the fuck outta here!”
The metal tapir didn’t understand any of this, but it recognized the frantic movements of flight after a surprise. The three creatures scampered back towards the window, the youngest diving to evade Kitty’s claws, and began to shimmy up the wall. There, the eldest reached the window, and-
Where once there had been an open window into the nighttime cityscape of Kalzasi, now there was nothing at all. The window simply opened out into a vast blankness, a nullity which gave the strong impression of white and black all at once, but which registered as neither to the eye.
The three brothers stopped dead in their tracks, real dread growing in their eyes. They had never seen anything of the sort, but in the manner of spirits and tricksters, they could feel that whatever was beyond was endless and aching. If they fell in, it would swallow them up, and they would fall forever, spiraling in the world beyond worlds.
The nodlins did not hesitate, but simply let go of their handholds, rushing back down to the floor, heedless of the light from the mirror or the hissing Kitty below. They raced back towards Imogen, swatting randomly behind them to try to hold off the raging little shadow leopard. After all, if the way back to the outside world was blocked, there was still one open conduit back to the Land of Nod.
When all three had made it to the sleeper’s side, the eldest turned back to the blank window, and began:
“You may now revel, fare thee well. But we’ll return, and-”
“Shut the hell up and let’s go!”
The three dream-dwellers began to slip into the cracks betwixt dimensions, but Kitty wasn’t yet ready to let them go. He pressed forward through the shadows which spilled over through all worlds, nudging aside the veil and flattening himself to fit just between the gloaming gate of dreams.
In the space between worlds, Kitty gave chase, observed helplessly by the metal tapir. Though the little cat was fast, the nodlins had the advantage of the terrain, and Kitty found himself forced to squeeze through shadows around invisible obstacles which they had no difficulty passing. Within seconds, the three brothers had nearly made their escape, pressing all the way to the far side of dreams.
Yet, when they reached that gate, they found…
Imogen Ward stood there, smiling, arms crossed in front of her as though she intended to bar the path forward with her body. Awake, she would have grinned with her pale lavender eyes; asleep, she would have grinned, but with both eyes firmly shut. This one, on the other hand, had no eyes at all- only featureless hollows which seemed to lead into an endless expanse which was neither black nor white.
“Ah…” the eldest Nodlin said, “...fuck.”
The not-Imogen rushed forward, and there was a terrible darkness on the road between waking and sleeping as it consumed the three brothers. The space and peoples being metaphorical, this required no distending of the jaw, no display of slavering mouths. One minute, they were there, and the next, they were not.
Mirrorgen exhaled, her mouth curling into a pleased smile, and she rubbed her hands as though knocking dust off of them. Then she turned to look at Kitty, still in the shadows.
“...mew?” the cat asked, horrified.
Mirrorgen shook its head and pointed back the way Kitty had come. The little familiar glanced back, realizing with surprise that the road had begun to break apart. The Nodlin roads did not much outlast their creators, it seemed.
Kitty needed no more encouragement. He fled.
Mirrorgen turned again, this time across the entire length of the road to lock eyes with the metal tapir, which had continued to watch helplessly from its perch in the material. It waved at the tapir, as though simply to acknowledge that it knew it was there.
The metal spirit did not talk, for that was not the way in which such elemental spirits tended to converse. Instead, it focused on the question which had come to mind.
Why? Why is a thing of emptiness and hunger guarding this girl? Don’t you want to eat her?
The mirror spirit blinked, as though surprised that the tapir was capable of formulating so complex a thought. It considered for a moment, then spoke, its words unbound in a place between places:
With that, the road finished dissolving. Kitty found himself back in the brightly-lit room, still illuminated by the floating mirror. The tapir in the mirror seemed distracted and, mere moments later, it dismissed the construct. A sparkling cloud of silver aether rained down on Imogen’s bed for a moment, causing her to let out a loud “SNORK.”
The familiar padded around the room for several minutes, still a little frenzied from the unexpected excitement. When the night went on without any additional midnight guests, however, he began to calm, and found himself weary anew.
Kitty hopped lightly up onto the bed and padded over to his beloved master, curling up next to her.
Imogen opened her eyes, waking immediately from the feel of fur against her face. "Mrmph? Ugh… Kitty, can’t you sleep anywhere else?"
In the depths of Nod, eyes opened on a rock. It wobbled, and rattled, and then cracked apart, revealing naked goblin flesh. Other stones nearby followed suit.
“Did that… did that thing eat us?”
“I think so. Been a long time since last I was et.”
The eldest of the three stood up, eyes full of rage, and raised a fist towards the glimmering spiral of dreams in the distance which served as the realm’s sun.
“Celebrate while you can, witch! None of your cunning schemes will protect you when next we meet! Of this, you have my vow!”
The witching hour struck, but the witch herself slept through it.
It shouldn’t have been any cause for surprise, really. After Imogen’s hard-won victory over Kegumu Rakaka, she had fled back to Drathera and recovered as best she could; it had taken almost two days to completely replenish her stores of aether. Even with the best salves she could buy from the Orkhan physicians, her hand still hadn’t completely healed from her boneheaded attack two months prior.
So once she’d returned north, the ork had decided to postpone any further heroics for a little while. Some time in Kalzasi to relax, recuperate and plan her next moves would be just what the doctor ordered.
(Although she’d already broken that particular command by flying across the continent since her check-up.)
Thus, she was back in the hotel Carina had booked two years past. She’d asked for the same room, but had to settle for a simulacrum across the hall- it was still cozy, and she could hardly complain. She just had a lot of nice memories of the other chamber.
Like the other chamber, this one was more cozy and spacious, designed more in the style of a Zaichaeri way-house’s room than one of the austere rooms preferred by the Avialae. The room was largely brown, with accent notes of green and red in the form of hangings, pillowy cushions and decorative marks. Cherrywood furniture supported a bowl of fruit left out, though the fruit was much less ripe and appetizing than it had seemed a year ago; perhaps betokening nothing, or perhaps an early victim of the Great Eclipse.
She’d already sent a letter to Moon inquiring about a time to discuss Kalzasi swordplay, and had begun looking at the wares about the local smithies. Probably long past time for her to acquire a smaller weapon, really. Her pact weapons were all quite powerful and practical, but if she was going to be going down into the cavernous Warrens soon…
But that was all for tomorrow. For now, Imogen slept like a log. And while the cat slept…
~ Kitty ~
► Show Spoiler
When the clock struck twelve, tiny purple eyes opened in the shadow of Imogen’s bed. One clump of shadows pulled itself from the rest, slinking slowly to the edge of the covers and inspecting the room, head swinging from side to side, nigh-invisible.
Kitty hopped silently to the dark floor below, taking upon himself the duty of guardian by inspecting the room. The young shadow jaguar felt particularly on edge this night, fur stiff and rough as he stalked about the chamber.
The baby cat did not really like this northern land. It was too cold, for one thing, and much too open. If Imogen wasn’t hunting for the both of them, Kitty wasn’t sure where he’d catch prey, or even what he’d hunt. Plus, they were awfully close to that dawn-place. He was glad he’d been hiding in the shadow when the shining one raised that sword, or he’d have certainly disintegrated amidst the tide of light.
Still, this room wasn’t so bad. It was enclosed and had a lot of little comfortable corners, and interesting smells. What it didn’t have, though, were movements. Kitty liked movements, and he wanted very much to see more of them.
Kitty leapt silently from ground to chair, then up onto the table, his body describing black arcs against the dark room. He slunk around the wooden bowl of fruit, fighting off an ancient feline urge to knock it off the table. Through a warrior’s discipline, he abstained.
Just then, there was a motion at the window. The little jaguar’s entire demeanor shifted, going from distraction to absolute monofocus in the space of an instant, his huge round violet eyes affixed on the window. Every shred of kinetic energy vanished, the cat growing almost preternaturally still.
~ The Horrible Little Nodlins ~
► Show Spoiler
The window creaked open, revealing three hunched little figures highlighted against the moonlight. Grey-skinned and covered with warts, but dressed in sashes of silky silver and rich purple, the goblins of dreams descended cautiously into the room, peering into each shadow with beady little eyes.
First one, then another of the goblins turned and shimmied down from the window, their curly-toed slippers making contact with the hardwood floor with little more than tiny puffs of dust.
The three tiny figures sneaked through the shadowy chamber with great care and caution; though the Orkhan woman on the bed slumbered heavily, it would take only one suspicious noise to draw the attention of some maid or nighttime clerk, and then the game would be up.
“How come we to this chamber dark?” the first spoke, his voice soft but high. “Upon a whim? Is this a lark?”
“An evil scheme we contemplate.” his brother replied, his voice almost comically low, “A long time come; the hour is late.”
“Yeah! Let’s fucking get her!” the third declared, maybe a little louder than he ought have.
The other two Nodlins turned to their brother, who shrunk a little bit beneath their glares. With exaggerated gaits, the three creatures of the dreaming world approached the sleeping orkhan girl, mouths stretched into ghastly, toothsome grins.
“This mortal creature blocked us long, refused to gambol to our song.”
“But now her irksome ward destroyed; we’ll give her nightmares long enjoyed!”
“Yeah! Now we’re going to fuck her up!”
The older two brothers glared at their youngest kin once more, the eldest of the three hissing an angry breath. The youngest blinked, looking wounded.
“What?”
“You’re meant to rhyme, you little tosser.” one of them whispered, glancing about the room.
“We’re the only ones here, brother! Why the fuck do we have to rhyme?”
“It is customary!” the eldest declared. “If we don’t follow the customs, we’re no better than she is.”
“Fine. Whatever. Let’s just give her the nightmare now.”
Behind the three Nodlins, Kitty grew silently nearer, visible only as violet eye-slits against the darkness. They were larger than him, but not by much; he thought that once he pounced, they would probably panic and flee. The little cat leaned back on its haunches, preparing to attack.
But as the three creatures produced gewgaws and totems glowing with the ebon auras of nightmare, there was a sudden flash of brilliant light in the air above Imogen. In the space of an instant, the entire room was illuminated as though it were high noon, every nook and cranny bathed in golden light.
All of a sudden, the pact Shield hung in the space between the sleeping Orkhan and the chamber ceiling, a great circular shield polished to a mirror-bright sheen, and entirely covered in gilt in the shape of cracks. Though the shield should have been reflective, instead of showing an image of the room and the three Nodlins, all which was visible beyond was darkness, stars… and a silvery tapir.
~ The Metal Spirit ~
► Show Spoiler
The little metal spirit didn’t perceive the world in the way mortals did, through light and sound and sense, but nor was it blind. It understood light and reflection, for one thing, and it could sense the constant shiftings of the blood of the world through magnetic influences. It perceived aether, either in the bright concentrations of metal or through dim reflection, as all elements were, on some level, of a kind.
When Imogen’s window opened, the tapir noticed through the shifting of the hinges and the sudden expansions throughout the room caused by the cooling winds. It felt the trinkets and fetishes carried by the odious creatures as they sneaked in. It could not understand their words, though it perceived their speech by way of vibration upon the various metallic surfaces of the room.
It did not exactly understand what they were, but wasn’t entirely clueless either. The layman would say that metal doesn’t sleep or dream; the blacksmith would know better. Thiovan’s halls were decorated with silver and gold and brass, and his soldiers armed with the slumbering shapes of swords and daggers.
The spirit’s options for responding, however, were limited. It had tied itself to the dreamer below, could manipulate her conjurings… but it could not summon them, not while they were locked away within her soul. Except, that is, for the shield, the totem which Imogen had first used to make her contract with the spirit, and which it had reforged against the light of the false Sundering.
So the tapir called forth the shield, letting its light wash over the bedchamber. It wasn’t sufficient to wake Imogen herself–she had slept through literal bombings, back in Zaichaer–but it was enough to spook the little goblin creatures, who immediately leapt away from the bed, fearing some kind of trap.
This caused the youngest of the three brothers to trip over Kitty, who let out a loud yowl of surprise and pain, which in turn drew muffled shouts and screams of surprise from the nightmare creatures.
(Imogen turned over in her sleep, but otherwise did not react to any of this.)
“Away, away, we must depart!” cried one, though still softly, “Or be entrapped by fiendish art!”
“You’ve won for now, but don’t forget- we never fail to settle debt!”
“Let’s get the fuck outta here!”
The metal tapir didn’t understand any of this, but it recognized the frantic movements of flight after a surprise. The three creatures scampered back towards the window, the youngest diving to evade Kitty’s claws, and began to shimmy up the wall. There, the eldest reached the window, and-
~ The Thing In The Mirror ~
► Show Spoiler
Where once there had been an open window into the nighttime cityscape of Kalzasi, now there was nothing at all. The window simply opened out into a vast blankness, a nullity which gave the strong impression of white and black all at once, but which registered as neither to the eye.
The three brothers stopped dead in their tracks, real dread growing in their eyes. They had never seen anything of the sort, but in the manner of spirits and tricksters, they could feel that whatever was beyond was endless and aching. If they fell in, it would swallow them up, and they would fall forever, spiraling in the world beyond worlds.
The nodlins did not hesitate, but simply let go of their handholds, rushing back down to the floor, heedless of the light from the mirror or the hissing Kitty below. They raced back towards Imogen, swatting randomly behind them to try to hold off the raging little shadow leopard. After all, if the way back to the outside world was blocked, there was still one open conduit back to the Land of Nod.
When all three had made it to the sleeper’s side, the eldest turned back to the blank window, and began:
“You may now revel, fare thee well. But we’ll return, and-”
“Shut the hell up and let’s go!”
The three dream-dwellers began to slip into the cracks betwixt dimensions, but Kitty wasn’t yet ready to let them go. He pressed forward through the shadows which spilled over through all worlds, nudging aside the veil and flattening himself to fit just between the gloaming gate of dreams.
In the space between worlds, Kitty gave chase, observed helplessly by the metal tapir. Though the little cat was fast, the nodlins had the advantage of the terrain, and Kitty found himself forced to squeeze through shadows around invisible obstacles which they had no difficulty passing. Within seconds, the three brothers had nearly made their escape, pressing all the way to the far side of dreams.
Yet, when they reached that gate, they found…
Imogen Ward stood there, smiling, arms crossed in front of her as though she intended to bar the path forward with her body. Awake, she would have grinned with her pale lavender eyes; asleep, she would have grinned, but with both eyes firmly shut. This one, on the other hand, had no eyes at all- only featureless hollows which seemed to lead into an endless expanse which was neither black nor white.
“Ah…” the eldest Nodlin said, “...fuck.”
The not-Imogen rushed forward, and there was a terrible darkness on the road between waking and sleeping as it consumed the three brothers. The space and peoples being metaphorical, this required no distending of the jaw, no display of slavering mouths. One minute, they were there, and the next, they were not.
Mirrorgen exhaled, her mouth curling into a pleased smile, and she rubbed her hands as though knocking dust off of them. Then she turned to look at Kitty, still in the shadows.
“...mew?” the cat asked, horrified.
Mirrorgen shook its head and pointed back the way Kitty had come. The little familiar glanced back, realizing with surprise that the road had begun to break apart. The Nodlin roads did not much outlast their creators, it seemed.
Kitty needed no more encouragement. He fled.
Mirrorgen turned again, this time across the entire length of the road to lock eyes with the metal tapir, which had continued to watch helplessly from its perch in the material. It waved at the tapir, as though simply to acknowledge that it knew it was there.
The metal spirit did not talk, for that was not the way in which such elemental spirits tended to converse. Instead, it focused on the question which had come to mind.
Why? Why is a thing of emptiness and hunger guarding this girl? Don’t you want to eat her?
The mirror spirit blinked, as though surprised that the tapir was capable of formulating so complex a thought. It considered for a moment, then spoke, its words unbound in a place between places:
Having enjoyed all the meat from the bone
Is perfectly equal to being alone
But having devoured the fruit of the vine
Is not quite the same as indulging in wine.
~~~
With that, the road finished dissolving. Kitty found himself back in the brightly-lit room, still illuminated by the floating mirror. The tapir in the mirror seemed distracted and, mere moments later, it dismissed the construct. A sparkling cloud of silver aether rained down on Imogen’s bed for a moment, causing her to let out a loud “SNORK.”
The familiar padded around the room for several minutes, still a little frenzied from the unexpected excitement. When the night went on without any additional midnight guests, however, he began to calm, and found himself weary anew.
Kitty hopped lightly up onto the bed and padded over to his beloved master, curling up next to her.
Imogen opened her eyes, waking immediately from the feel of fur against her face. "Mrmph? Ugh… Kitty, can’t you sleep anywhere else?"
~~~
In the depths of Nod, eyes opened on a rock. It wobbled, and rattled, and then cracked apart, revealing naked goblin flesh. Other stones nearby followed suit.
“Did that… did that thing eat us?”
“I think so. Been a long time since last I was et.”
The eldest of the three stood up, eyes full of rage, and raised a fist towards the glimmering spiral of dreams in the distance which served as the realm’s sun.
“Celebrate while you can, witch! None of your cunning schemes will protect you when next we meet! Of this, you have my vow!”