[color=918f95][center][sub][img]https://i.imgur.com/aK2Vggc.png[/img][/sub]
[color=a167e9]Iғʀɪsᴇ Fᴏʀᴇsᴛ, Sᴏᴠᴇʀᴇɪɢɴᴛʏ ᴏғ Dʀʏᴀᴅᴀʟɪs [i]Tʜᴇ Eᴏʟᴅʏssᴇᴜs[/i] 
[/color][/center]

All the trees were really pretty looking, like some unnatural scenery as light brushed delicately through the blurry leaves.  Uriel could hear the wind and feel it, but it felt different and more like a song that he heard a long time ago. His eyes scanned towards his feet.  They were bare and standing on top of a small drift of forest flooring. He wanted to wiggle his toes, but he forgot to do so or maybe he just could not.  Either way, he was unfazed by the lack of coordination in his own structure. Instead, his face turned, and his eyes looked towards a clearing.

Without much thought, his feet, still naked in all their worth, were moving towards the opening of the forest.  A compelling force was drawing him closer, and all his mind could grasp was the opening.  His arms were lucid to his vision and feelings.  His feet were the only part of his body he could really admit to feeling and maybe his eyes. The end of the forest became further and further away the more his feet pondered against the dirt and stone; and he became worrisome.  His knowledge of the estranged area became skewed and warped; and the reliance of his intuition started to fall through the gaps of his mind; and the demarcate around him started to drop its facade.  He was lost.

Uriel could not remember how he had gotten here.  At the beginning, when he was admiring the skyline and treetops, everything seemed in place.  There was no thought as to how he had miraculously been positioned in this unknown yet beautiful spot. He kept trying to retrace his footsteps, but his memory was unable to follow the path he was trying to take.  Instead, his feet kept running, even though he was being made aware of some aching and tired pain from the distance and procedure in which his feet were involuntarily partaking -- Why was he running? Why couldn’t he stop?

He was being chased! Yes, he was being chased. How could he have forgotten? [i]They[/i] were trying to kill him! Panic surged through the boy as he tried to quicken his pace. He had to warn the others, But, it was too late.  He knew it was too late. Upon accepting this knowledge, his body plunged through the forest floor in a hole of smoke that softly but swiftly pulled his body into another place and time. He could see his hands. They were held out as he fell.  His fingers were relaxed even though it was said to him that his heart was beating rapidly. Any minute he would reach the bottom of the hole; and his fear beat faster and faster with anticipation; yet the pit started to seem ominously bottomless. 

A heavy hand of sweat broke through Uriel that he was stuck in this void.  There was no escape.  He would fall like this forever -- for eternity.  [i]No![/i] Uriel’s thoughts shouted to himself, somehow commanding on his hands to reach for the necklace around his neck. It was still there, most thankfully, unlike his shoes. He tried to close his eyes, but the black void was everywhere, even under his eyelids. Dismay swept over him briefly as he understood the inescapable power of the void even more. [i]Don’t lose hope,[/i] he scolded himself before forcing his frightened being to meditate on the locket.  He could feel a sense of calm begin to wash over him as his affinity began to align with the ancient holy magi.  [i]Eternity will not be such a long time, [/i] he told himself.

The warming sensation lasted only but moments for the boy, however. The locket in the frail palm of his hand began to glow brighter and sizzle.  A pain jolted through his core and caused him to cry out in pain and release the locket. When the pain subsided, the world around him became more stable and lighter.  He was no longer falling through a meaningless dusk.  No, he was standing before seven tall shadows.  Their bodies pillard in orbit around him and casted their dark presences over him like a star.  Grimmness melted their likeness, and Uriel was stricken with immense terror.  A purple smoke began fuming like a foggy incense around the heptagram, and he was made aware of his knees, cold and bare against the celestial ground.  He was kneeling. [i]No, no,[/i] he told himself, fighting his body to stand.

There was so much reason to stand upon his feet, still noted with a throbbing ache. He was bowing to them, and they, they -- they were, they were… That song came back, and it was not as pleasant to remember, anymore.  It started to pluck through his conscious, and the thoughts in his head began to throb and bulge inside of him. They were fighting each other and pulling the seams of his concentration unloose.  All of the spells he had memorized were untying from the tapestry of his mind.  Again, he cried out in a vain last last hope, but his voice having been shaken by the void, was stiffened into a muteness that silenced his beg for mercy by a bright light, a thunderous sounding explosion that jostled the fibers of his being. Thick fires burst and singed him into another dream, woven more vaguely and tiringly than the last delusion.

Still wearily on his knees, Uriel tried to push something from his mouth, but all he heard was “Artemius,” echoing around him in his own juvenile vocals. He had been trying to call for his parents, but his mind had not been able to convey what he had wanted. His hand reached for his locket, again.  It was cool to touch and no longer burning. Uriel traced his thumb over the kunzite, feeling the stone’s strength weave through his print. Gloomily, Uriel opened his eyes, having realized they were closed.

"[color=cyan]-- wish to speak with you privately. [b]Impulsus ventus[/b][/color]."

Uriel’s eyes hazed at the articulation of [i]Impulsus ventus.[/i] His knuckle tightened around his locket, still gripping the amulet with childish fear. His mind was trying to awaken and jolt itself from what the lady had just said. His mind was scattered and restitching itself together; his thoughts were jumbled and scattered and frayed; his very essence was so spread apart, he was not sure even if he was on a train or a barge; he was very aware, though, that his feet were tired from travel. [i]It was all a dream...[/i]

"[color=goldenrod]But you’re a--[/color]"

Uriel’s head cautiously turned, and his eyes focused as he watched a man, younger than the lady, ascend up the stairs behind the woman. His own feet wiggled his toes nervously.  His own fatigue seemed to have gotten the best of him. His palm clenched more tightly around his locket, and he drew in a deep sheltered breath, trying to relax his unravelled mind. He was so collapsed, he almost did not want to inquire on what had just happened, but he was no fool. He was a Sanctus. There was no time to dwell on his nightmare or vision. [i]It was all a dream,[/i] he assured himself, [i]But this is not.[/i] With the last thought, his lithe frame pushed itself from the seat and followed the two magi as if a small string was tied to him, and his intuitive curiosity was dragging him towards them.[/color]