[center][h2][b]The Calm before the Fall[/b][/h2][/center]

Ophelia could only watch slack-jawed as the tiny form of the Great Serpent crawled out of a skull, using her free right hand to daub the tears that had begun to slowly drip from her face, as she witnessed its transformation and sudden display of power. She could not help but notice the many eyes across its body and the pattern that connected them, finding it more beautiful than she even knew how to describe--almost as beautiful as her blessed blade... which was the second thing that she ensured was just the same as it was. After the earth's grumbling protestations and the skies' lament ceased she finally stood up, to see they were not where they just were and she paced for a quick moment to find a glimpse of the sky through the canopy.

When she saw no splotch on the moon--and even that the moon was in another position--she was elated... but as she stared up and continued to think about what had happened, she found herself pondering a set of rules that perhaps nobody had ever had to intuit before... or perhaps many had? If they had been taken back, were their other-selves still roaming the world? Did events that had transpired before (but were perhaps now yet to come) still have to happen the way that they had happened? The more she thought about it the dizzier she got, until she relented and decided to ask her blade.

[i]"Mother Moon has moved! I... I think it worked! But... are... other versions of us still out there? Do we have to... avoid them? Must things still happen the way they did before? I... augh, my mind reels and writhes even thinking about it."[/i]

"[I]Other versions?[/I]" The voice seemed to hesitate. "[I]It does not sense other versions of the Cosmic Sword of Truth or its halves. The world also feels... off. More akin to the Interstice than the Waking World, but not as deep into it as the Old Labyrinth. It also seems that while there is no ritual to summon Obcasus anymore, there is a ritual to summon something else. But it feels strange. Everything feels strange.[/I]"

[i]"Perhaps more answers are forthcoming in the Dream? I suppose we will simply have to find out. Though... if not Obcasus, can you sense what it means to summon? Perhaps if we got closer to its source..."[/i] Ophelia asked, brushing herself off and taking in a few steadying breaths. She waited for the others to get their bearings too, trying to take everything in. Whatever had happened had happened--there was no going back, nor wishing it were something else: they would have to find their footing... and make their peace. Their goal of saving their home from a terrible fate was no different, and nor were they... were they?

"[I]It's... strange,[/I]" the voice mused, apparently very fixated on how strange things felt. "[I]Faintly familiar, but different, like everything else. It could be... but no, that is impossible...[/I]" There was a palpable pause while the voice seemed to ascertain its feelings. "[I]The ritual might be trying to summon Venara... but the Moonborn killed her.[/I]"

[i]"Then... yes, let us return to the Dream. The Moonborn should have some answers."[/i] Ophelia responded after pausing herself to process all that had just happened.

"We should try and return to the Dream... this is not the world we knew; faintly familiar, but... different, my blade says. Let's try and find a lantern." Ophelia suggested, her brow furrowed in concentration and mouth set into a grim line.

The sound, the sensation, a bright blinding light which followed the appearance and then growth of the strange so-called great 'serpent'. Of course, it had been no serpent, not in truth, but Farren had no real time to consider that for in moments their environs had shifted completely. Ophelia seemed much her usual self, confused, focused, intrigued. At least that much had not changed.

[color=#007FFF][b]“Mmm...let's hope we have not traded on dire situation for another,”[/b][/color] Farren said, his voice level, his expression filled with a certain jaded seriousness as he pushed to his feet, swung one Piercing Rifle over his shoulder and affixed it into the hold of the sling at his back. He kept the other in his left hand, his right he brought up briefly, wincing at the strange sensation, before shaking his head and turning the direction from which they'd come. [color=#007FFF][b]“Do we try to take the path you lead us on...given that things seem...different, or do we wander until we find a lantern? If there are lanterns in this...place.”[/b][/color]

He had no idea what was truly different, but the trees were certainly not arranged the same. The shrine was not as it had been, the Moon had certainly moved. Something just felt [i]off[/i]. He glanced to Gerlinde and Torquil, wondering if they felt it too.

"Hmm... it feels as though we're in the Interstice, though... not as deep as the Labyrinth. Eileen confirmed to us they still had lanterns in their day, when they yet Dreamt, didn't she? The little ones seem to make sure they're placed where they might be needed... if whatever's being summoned is something that the Moonborn killed... you don't suppose this is the Night of the Blood Moon, do you? The path and shrine were always there even back then... Let's make our way to Hemwick proper, rather than wander the wood aimlessly?"  Ophelia commented, taking frequent pauses to look around and gather her thoughts. She wondered, if this was some realm of Nightmare or some such, would there not be guidance sprites darting about? Moving towards some known landmark seemed to be the best choice to her mind--that and regularly checking in with the Cosmic Sword of Truth.

Farren merely nodded in response.

Gerlinde and Torquil spent their first little while just looking around, the former with wide-eyed fascination and the latter with utter confusion. Only when Farren and Ophelia started talking about going places just hoping to find a lantern did Gerlinde seemingly return to the proverbial present.

"Let's just ask the little ones," she suggested, crouching even while speaking the words. "They're the ones responsible for the lanterns in the first place."

Gerlinde sat there for several seconds, waiting. Five seconds. Ten seconds. By the time fifteen seconds had passed, she looked up with a huge smile and announced excitedly: "The little ones aren't responding!"

Farren was silent for several seconds, then he exhaled slowly in a long aggrieved sigh. [color=#007FFF][b]“Joy,”[/b][/color] the word emerged with an [i]intensely[/i] sarcastic tone. Farren shook his head, [color=#007FFF][b]“Let's... attempt to head the way we came... and [i]hope[/i] it is similar enough that we don't end up lost in this godsforsaken forest.”[/b][/color]

Ophelia blinked a few times incredulously, her mind racing more than before. No, not the Night of the Blood Moon... She'd pondered before if the ancient Pthumerians in the times of eld had the sort of protection they desired. She wondered... what if they were there?

[i]"Is... this Yharnam at the time of the Pthumerian empire, perhaps?"[/i]  she asked her blade, looking around rather nervously as the thought crossed her mind... but she would have been lying if she said the thought did not also thrill her tremendously.

"[I]Pthumerian empire? The Great Serpent is a god of time, but actually traveling through time is not possible. Though... that could be why everything feels strange. Maybe this place is not fully real? Or maybe... you are not fully there?[/I]" There was a thoughtful pause. "[I]Determining time is difficult, but it does bring to mind...[/I]" Another pause. "[I]Yes. Of course. The first read was incomplete; the summoning is not of a Great One at all, but the Great Ones are responding. And not just Venara. Flora, Seraph, Amygdala, Kos, Oedon, Ego... This feeling is familiar. You were right, Champion: this is ancient Pthumeru on the eve of its fall. On their Night of the Blood Moon.[/I]"

Ophelia's mind boggled at the possibilities before her: just what was time, really? She had no words to explain the transcendent thoughts going through her mind, beyond the constraints of language, abstract to the point of defying her intellect's approach. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, before cackling maniacally, throwing her whole body into the laugh as she claimed what bits of the flurry her mind could briefly touch. There was such potential here, such peril! To really know what it was like when the connections were not so separate--to understand whether this was the natural way of being or an artifice itself! Which way was real? Was it so simple a choice, and could they both be their own kind of real? The sheer possibilities were dizzying! She caught herself before she slipped any further after only a few seconds, catching her breath and wiping tears from her eyes as she looked to Gerlinde.

"This is ancient Pthumeru, at the night of their Blood Moon. All of the Great Ones are still alive, and more than that... they're here. Responding. Flora... Mother Moon! Think what we could learn; what relics must be here! What runes might touch our minds, what overflowing knowledge! Blast that we haven't access to the Runebrand! I am okay, for I bear the Truth, and my blade protects me... but you must be wary... ah, but where to go, where to go?" she spoke lowly, pausing every so often to giggle giddily, as though suddenly aware of what dangers might lurk nearby and suspicious that her outburst might have alerted them and unable to contain her--for the moment--jubilant excitement.

[i]"Where to go, where to go? I wonder what is safe, what we might dare to dream... If we can die, for there might be no Dream to catch us? If we might be the reason Flora creates her Dream? Ah, but the false Paleblood!"[/i] she communed, trying to stop her thoughts from overtaking her.

"Night of their Blood Moon," Gerlinde repeated Ophelia's words, her smile slowly faltering. "A night that wiped out Pthumeru, the way our Night of the Blood Moon was supposed to have wiped out Yharnam. And no little ones." A faint shiver ran through her body.
"That sounds..." Torquil mumbled slowly, trying to make sense of Ophelia's words in combination with her excitement. "Bad?"
"[I]The ritual is to the east,[/I]" the voice told Ophelia. "[I]Getting a sense of the landscape is not one of the powers of the Cosmic Sword of Truth, but the ritual is sending powerful ripples through the Nightmare. That is where the Great Ones are congregating.[/I]"

"Oh, yes, terribly dangerous. A night of immense peril--true travel through time is not possible, my blade says, so we are either not [I]really[/I] here, or this isn't quite real. Some... distant realm of Nightmare, perhaps? Who knows? But we are here for now, and we should learn what we can. There doesn't seem to be much of an alternative, does there? The ritual is to the east, and the Great Ones are congregating there. I fear it would be unwise for us to make ourselves known to them--but perhaps we must at least investigate? What we need is some warding against Obcasus' power--let's look for that and take everything else as it happens." Ophelia mused as the sense of danger rapidly began to overtake the giddy high of potential discovery. Whether they were immortal or not, it mattered little--they were here. They would have to do their best and find a way back or die trying.

Farren stared at Ophelia, expression grim, but otherwise neutral as she cackled. His eyes narrowed slightly, he shook his head, then looked away. For once...Gerlinde's response seemed more reasonable tom him. More...sane. He sighed and forced himself not to clench his fingers, the process would have ended up painful...and now he was stuck with his arms this way until they found a way to return to the Dream, at the very least. When Ophelia spoke again, Farren gave it up, [color=#007FFF][b]“I suppose any plan is as good as the next,”[/b][/color] but he didn't sound particularly pleased. Still, he also didn't even attempt to put up any further fight. Ultimately she was right. They were here. They didn't know precisely how to get back. They could not entreat the Messengers or the Moonborn and so the only course forward was through.

"What was it Queen Annalise told us... that the gilded trickster manipulated Divine Queen Yharnam, and awakened Cael? The Great Serpent asked nothing of us and took us here--wanted to show us this, based on what we wanted... the Great Serpent has always been benevolent... to me, and the Witches, at least. If we witness what happened before, perhaps it will give us insight into how to kill him... and there are other Great Ones here, ones that will help if we only ask. Gerlinde and I are Flora's children, and she is with us always: if she's here, and she senses that... bah, it's all too much! Let's head as near to the ritual as we dare and try to orient ourselves with some landmark that might be passingly familiar? I haven't the faintest sense of direction in this place, so... do we head towards the ritual or away from it? Whatever we mean to find, we've until Mother Moon reaches her zenith." Ophelia rambled, trying to recall all of their knowledge about the distant past in order to find a path. There was so much to consider, so much they could never know, and if she thought about it any longer they would miss their opportunity. Sometimes any course of action was better than vacillating until events came to them, surely?

Farren simply nodded. He was well out of his depth. Thus he kept silent and though he was not always sure of his companion's hold on reason... Farren knew he would have to defer to her in this. Yet... despite his intentions, she could not seem to make a decision...

"My first instinct would be to go the opposite direction of a ritual like that," Gerlinde giggled nervously, uncharacteristically meek compared to how thoroughly fearless she had been so far. "But if this is the same place we were before, just a different time... all we'll find west is water."

"I could climb a tree," Torquil suggested hesitantly. "Maybe I can see something from higher up?"

"That's... actually quite a good idea, love. Please, would you?" Ophelia replied to Torquil, nodding quickly to herself. "If everyone is gathering at the ritual, perhaps that will leave some places unguarded? None of us speak Pthumerian, though... I think my blade can translate; it did during the fight with Arrayah." 

[i]"Could you translate any Pthumerian we might encounter, perhaps?"[/i] she asked.

"[I]Translation is simple,[/I]" the voice said, now into all of their minds rather than just Ophelia's. "[I]Anything you hear can be translated for you, and anything you say can be translated to them... though perhaps it would be wise not to project an eldritch voice into the minds of the Pthumerians?[/I]"

"If there were a society of people to whom such a thing were ordinary, I'd think it would be the Pthumerians, no? But... you have a point, certainly, let's avoid that unless it seems sensible... I don't know if we can expect to find any friendly faces--though... I did partake of Queen Annalise's vileblood, and she referred to me as... what was it, her distant kin? The connection might be enough to sway at least someone willing to talk to us... what do you see, Torquil?"

"Uh..." came Torquil's voice from the canopy he had ascended into. A few seconds later he dropped back down, the (now much larger) man seemingly quite accustomed to climbing trees. He pointed to what to their understanding would be north. "There's a hill with a view just a short ways over there. Then you can see for yourselves."

"Yes, let's..." Ophelia concurred, heading in the direction Torquil had pointed immediately.