Stopping in her tracks, Lila eyed the gun warily. Such a tool was often used against her kind. Quick, deadly, and weldable by most anyone. At this distance there was little chance to avoid a hit. But the woman had no intention of getting shot, not while she could avoid a confrontation anyway.
Holding her hands up where they could be seen there was a clear sense of fear. Partly because her life was in danger, but also her mission had likewise made a turn for the worse. All her efforts to be seen differently had vanished because of one encounter. How could she be so weak as to fall to her base instincts. While the standoff was only a few seconds in it felt like forever. The spider's mind raced trying to figure out what to do. Vaguely she remembered a child's voice telling her something. "I didn't mean to attack anyone. There was a force, a voice... I was compelled." How could she explain this in a way that made sense. Surely she must have sounded desperate or crazy.
It was then that she again remembered the ruby. Yes, the stone creatures had one too. Whatever it was must be what controlled their actions. It seemed now that she suffered the same fate. But who's or what's will was it that had such a strong hold. With her left hand she pointed to the ruby embedded in her palm. "This thing. I picked it from the pillar and it has stuck in my hand. There were runes that spread to my head and I lost control. Whatever it is caused me, and them, to attack." She motioned to the statues which had simultaneously become peaceful.
Rurik opens his eyes wide, gasping for air, still feeling an icy shiver running across his flesh. Looking around, the Varangian warrior finds himself lying flat on his back, a ray of light piercing his eyes from above and hindering his sight, noises ringing in his ears. His whole body aching, Rurik struggles to get up, pain radiating from the places where the arrows had pierced his flesh, now cicatrized, and coughs, his throat filled with dust, before finally managing to get on his feet. At this point, Rurik is firmly convinced that he is indeed still in the land of the living, and that the peculiar situation he finds himself in is not the result of an interesting night spent at the Drakkar, Holmgarðr's finest tavern. Probably.
The Varyag warrior looks around, touching his Mjǫllnir pendant, and finds himself indeed at the bottom of a dusty earthen pit, a ray of light coming from above, as well as strange noises. His armor looks worn and threadbare, his axe and shield are lying in the dirt, and as Rurik ties his large round shield to his back and picks up his greataxe, he begins to wonder exactly where in Hel he is, and how did he get there. Perhaps the Komi saved him from the river, and took him as prisoner? Impossible, they don't take prisoners, and if they did, they wouldn't have left him his weapon. Someone else, then, saved him? Once again, impossible: if a good hearted man had rescued him, he would have woken up in a bed, not at the bottom of a pit. Rurik grunts and spits on the floor, the waves of pain still running across his muscles and nerves now more bearable, and slowly begins to climb his way out, the dusty earth crumbling beneath his hands and feet as he conquers inch after inch, using his axe as a pick to drag himself towards the light, muttering profanities in Old Norse, as the noises above him become recognizable as voices, screaming and talking in a confused manner. After almost falling down a couple of times, the Varyag swings upwards his axe, and feels it gripping the flat surface along the boundary of the pit, and, clenching his teeth, pulls himself up, his left arm finally appearing from below, followed by his head; Rurik looks around, and realizes that he ought to stop frequenting the Drakkar.
The sky swirled a beautiful glistening green and fiery orange-- the proportions of the colors were not even in proportion, and the blots of colors seemed to move independently of each other, in some areas of the sky they would create intricately abstract patterns and in others there were simple swirls, or random blobs interacting with a background of the other. The arrangements of checkerboard that seemed like grass and fire stretched on for infinity.
The earth was warm, silver marble that went on for miles like a perfectly sculpted plain in whatever direction you looked-- there were no trees, instead the world seemed populated by a rainbow assortment of coral and gigantic black mushrooms. Fish floated around-- salmon colored salmon-- with the ease of birds, there was no air here. It seemed as though there was only perfectly clear water with with to exist below the storm of jade and carmine. Untold amounts of bubbles floated up from unseen cracks in the marble, and resting of a bed of bubbles was the gigantic head of a man, smoking an otherworldly cigar that seemed to exude blue smoke rings exclusively.
The body-less man looked tired, fatherly, and very sick. Floating before him, was a normal sized young woman, who was presently asleep.
Nel opened her eyes, only to find herself floating away from the earth... as she looked she realized it was a completely foreign earth to her, white and silver swirls stretch forever beneath her, above her were swirls of orange gold and a sickly green. A fish floated by, stopping to stare her in the eyes for a moment, before seemingly kissing her on the nose, and quickly swimming off. Nel opened her mouth to scream, and was met with bubbles filling her vision. She was in water she could breath like air.
"Gods, you're just as high strung as ever, huh Junior?"
"Dad...?" After a moment of struggle as she tried to figure out how to maneuver herself in the weightless, syrupy water. Nel turned toward the smoking head. "What is... What are... wha...?"
"What's up, Len len?"
"You know I don't go by that name... umm... who are...? You are my Dad, right? Am I dreaming...?"
"Gods! Slow down with the questioning, maybe?" The head blew out a puff of impossibly cool smoke through the water that seemed to switch to having the consistency of some type of pudding, "I know you don't go by that name, Nel, relax, I'm just playing with you hun. And yes, of course you're dreaming, dood! Look around!" Flapping with his ears, her moved from the seat of bubbles over to Nel, "But I can promise you that it is me, Nel. I've been trying to contact you for a while, actually-- this isn't a bad time, is it?"
"Umm..." Nel gave a sheepish shrug, trying to give as reassuring a grin to her father as possible that she wasn't about to be eaten by a stone beast, "N-no...?"
Her father's head's left ear stretched until it plum popped off the side of his giant head, and turned into a pink hand to promptly come around and slap the cigar smoking face in frustration, "Oh! Of course it's a bad time! It's always a bad time! Let me guess..." The head scratched it's chin its chin with it's new ear-hand, "You're trying to sneak into your first castle, some guard figured out your disguise-- and you were about to fight him to avoid going to jail???"
Nel smiled-- this was her father after all, he had such a calm approach to life, such an easy sense of humor... "Not quite, pop." She envied him for how sure of himself he was, how comfortable he was with everything, "Close though... I followed Kettle and her group into the woods. Her cameldragon--"
"Grom's still around? Shit-- how's that little fella?"
Little fella? Nel couldn't help but wonder to herself, had Grom been smaller when her father was in his prime? "He's fine! I actually spent a good while talking to him last night! I was horrified at first, and I still am, but he's sweet at least..." Nel looked away for a moment, Although perhaps 'apathetic' is a more accurate word... "Umm... Anyway," She looked again toward her father's head. "Well... Grom ran away from her and led us to these odd forest temple ruins. Everyone went off to do their own part in figuring out whatever mysteries lied about. I myself picked up some of the supplies her cameldragon--"
"Grom." Her father's head corrected.
"Of course, pop." She rolled her eyes, "Grom dropped some of the saddlebags from his back when he ran ahead, so I picked up as many of those as I could find... and I..." She sighed.
"My little girl!" He whopped, "Pitching in!"
"It really wasn't that glamorous, dad."
The one-eared head gave the closest approximation of a shrug it could manage, "Don't matter none that it wasn't shiny. You saw a thing that needed getting done and did it! Already you're making us both proud!"
Nel looked at the head strait on, "Is Mom really proud of me? She hates me."
He sighed, looking into the distance, blowing away a blue ring of smoke, "I'm sorry kiddo-- She'll come around-- but right now you need to know that I am proud of you."
Nel hid a blush, "I-is Mom there now?"
"Yeah, she's been tending to me while I sleep... I know you two don't get along like thieves... but Gods bless her..." He sighed, "I don't even remember the last time I was out of this damn bed..."
"I'm... sorry, Dad..." Nel looked around nervously, now finding it difficult to make eye contact with the man's head. She spoke softly, "How are you doing...?"
"WHAT?!" The head boomed, "SPEAK UP! I'VE ONLY GOT ONE EAR!"
Nel yelled back in kind, "I asked how your condition was!"
"Oh..." The two of them looked somber as the question hung in the extending silence of the magical dreamscape around them, a few fish fluttered by, and the sky was as active and abstract as ever, but the metaphorical air between the two of them was silent for a long while. Eventually, the head spoke up, "I'm uhh..." He coughed, "I'm not going to lie to you here, kiddo, I've been much better. That's actually part of the reason I just wanted to hear your voice again... I mean... I don't know how close the end is... but I just..."
As he trailed off, the two faced another, colder silence.
He perked up, "Finish your story?"
"R-right!" Nel shook her head, not realizing that any tears she had wouldn't be seen in the water that surrounded her, "There was this talking bird... and it landed on my shoulder and told me to press this... glowing... spire... thing--"
"Rule number one, Nel; glowing spires are bad."
"I wish I'd know that then, pop..." Nel exhaled a frustrated sigh, "I think I did something really bad by pressing that stupid spire... It summoned some horrible monster that just looked at me... and then..."
"Then you decided to have a magical conversation with your father!"
"I was actually wondering that-- how are we talking? Is this some kind of magic?"
The face looked as if it had to explain something obvious to an annoying child, "Magic isn't real, honey." A school of fish passed by the man's head, leaving in their wake bubbles that comprised all colors of the rainbow, a mushroom with a smile on it's side instantly sprouted from the ground, "No. This is merely me using an artifact I found in an Oneiroi ruin when I was around your age, it lets you communicate with people in your memory through their subconscious mind over long distances when you're both sleeping."
"But... that kinda... sounds like what a magic thing would do, dad."
"Nel." He said in a serious tone, "Magic isn't real."
"But it just--"
"Magic isn't real."
"Okay."
"Anyway, listen up honey-- I've got to go soon, but I need to impart an important message to you."
"Aww... really?"
"Yes. Shut up, though. We don't have much time."
"Okay...?"
"You need to smile more!"
"Really? I thought my problems stemmed from a lack of confidence and an incredibly low self-worth?"
"Ggggaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwdddddddddddssssss, you are more like your mother than either of you would ever admit. It's all the same thing, man, just have fun, dood."
And with that, the world began to fade as the father and daughter began to return to their separate corners of the world. With seconds remaining, the head of Len Sr. yelled to his daughter.
"Nel! I forgot to ask! Is Kettle still nice?"
She yelled back as the world faded, "She's super nice!"
The world was black again, but Nel could barely make out a faint cheer in her father's voice, "That's 15 gold for me!"
Nel woke gently, the subtle light that flared down from the canopy tickled her awake. Slowly, she sat up on her knees in the underbrush... she wasn't dead! Which was good, but she wasn't quite sure where she was... had someone dragged her into some bushes...? Nel looked down, her hands gripped at the grass, that was probably for the best, she was probably just getting in everyone's way...
stop feeling so sorry for yourself
Yeah. She shook her head, she needed to stop that... Maybe smile more? She brushed the leaves and twigs off her outfit and hair as she stood up. Quietly moaning/muttering to herself after her fall and subsequent mental journey, "Where the hell is everyone?"
The stone beast shook its head slowly, and with stiffening limbs it took a step back, away from Aloe and Lila. Its lip twisted in a snarl, and it took another step back. Every movement was slower than the last -- until there was only a twitch of an ear and the shift of a claw, and then the beast was frozen once more.
Grom huffed and sighed heavily. The cameldragon had expended every ounce of energy and enthusiasm into that one act of heroism. He sat down sleepily and proceeded to chew, his eyes half-closed.
Kettle woke up sprawled against the pillar, blood trickling down her forehead. She shifted to her feet unsteadily, keeping her back against the rock to avoid being seen, and she peered around it. Aloe's back was to her, but it was clear he still held the gun. Lila was fine again, Nel had just woken up, and the stone beast had gone back to being harmless. Leon was nowhere to be seen, and Clavic was probably somewhere at the end of the trail of scattered bones.
No one had realized what happened -- no one knew except Leon and Clavic, and Kettle was fairly sure she could lie her way back into Clavic's trust, at least. She would take the chance.
"Is everyone all right?" she called, her voice reflecting the very real pain in her skull. Kettle stepped out from behind the pillar -- and then she noticed movement that hadn't been there before. Someone -- or something -- was crawling out of the ground very close to where Nel lay half-conscious.
"Nel!" Kettle called out in alarm, still holding the pillar for balance. "Watch out! Behind you!"
