For many moments, for
whole lifetimes, Eliza was just a ripple. A passing breeze. The odd, feathery touch that sends shivers down one's spine. She was the familiar stranger in the corner of someone's vision, that disappeared upon a second glance.
Briefly, she was spread into nothingness, becoming a fragile part of the all-encompassing void. Just as suddenly, she was mashed together, a boneless lump of molten flesh and gore.
She felt nothing, was numb to it all and somehow present for every moment of it. It was as if she were seeing it from an onlooker's point of view. Perhaps she was. After all, she hadn't a clue where her eyes were during all of this.
It was an experience for the history books, truly. It was a moment where she was all, and she was nothing. It was like being carried through a dream by Felicity. In this dream, though, she was the interpreter. For a moment, she was enlightened.
Then, she was coughed out.
~*~*~*~
"'Liza, I'm home!" Ethaniel called, a merry lilt to his tone. His short, casual strides carried him to their small kitchen, where he paused and popped his head into the alcove that housed their dining table.
Eliza wasn't there, working on her charms as he had told her to. A lump of clay remained on the table, untouched. That meant she was somewhere else, doing Mother knows what. Assumptions traveled like lightning through Ethaniel's mind, very few of which soothing.
For all he knew, she could have been taking a nap in her room. She had been acting more sluggish lately. On the other hand, she could be terrorizing the next village over. Her newfound, violent tendencies were becoming more of a pain to deal with. Every hex thrown his way was another waste of energy on both their parts. She was too weak to harm him, and he was too weakhearted to punish her properly.
Perhaps, in another life, he would've thrown her out. Abandoned her on the streets with a bit of money, just so she could drink herself to death. Maybe this darker version of himself would have abused the inkling of loyalty that was bubbling up within her, just as her father had. Trashed her, completely and utterly. It wouldn't have been hard. No one would take the time to mourn her ruination. To most, she was scum.
But not to him.
For the short time they had known each other, she had made a great impression upon him. Whenever her mood swings weren't weighing her down, he caught glimpses of her true persona. She was compassionate, despite her past misfortunes, or perhaps because of them. Her truest self was eager. Eager for love, and joy, and someone who could take care of her in the way her mother and father hadn't. He wanted to be that person. More than that. He wanted to see her succeed, if not because he cared, then because he wished to be the person behind someone else's success.
He would get her there, past boundaries she didn't even know she had.
To begin that process, though, he had to find her.
One-by-one, he checked her room, then the oversized study that dwarfed the rest of the house, then the garden outside. If she was around, there was only one other place she could be.
Creeping into his room, he let a curse loose under his breath as he laid eyes upon her. She sat in the corner of his quarters, staring up at him with wide, apologetic eyes. They were glossed over, and unfocused.
In her arms, she cradled a bottle of wine that was almost empty.
"How long was I gone?" His tone was accusatory, and when she flinched back, he realized it may have been overly so.
"An...hour?" Eliza replied, blinking every second, as she repeatedly lost focus.
"Was that long enough to drain an entire bottle of wine on your own?" He kept his tone inquisitive, light. He didn't want to put too much blame on her in this state, they'd have to talk more when she sobered up.
"No...but--" She cut herself off, nibbling on her lower lip as tears welled in her eyes. "P-Please don't throw me out!" Her slurs came out beside soft sobs.
Ethaniel quickly shook his head, throwing up his hands defensively. "Eliza, I wouldn't abandon you." His affirmation seemed to do its job, as her tremors slowed significantly. "I just don't know why you've done this to yourself, that's all."
"I have...haven't, I haven't been myself. I keep getting so...so angry and I-I can't take it anymore!" Her tone was louder than before, though still incoherent. She stared down at her hands, past the bottle folded gently between her arms. In a pathetic fit, she shook them, clutching her twitching fingers.
Ethaniel sighed, continuing his approach. At last, he crouched down beside her. She stared up at him, wide-eyed. Pooling tears fell in rapid streams down her face. "Eliza, would you like to know what I think?"
"Yes, Ethaniel." She replied, after a few moments of blatant processing.
"I think I can handle the crying, and the anger, and having to force you out of bed in the morning, because I know you're worth the effort." He paused, reaching out to take hold of the wine bottle. She clung to it momentarily, before relinquishing it to him. "What I can't handle is seeing you like this. Drunk and slurring each word, deprecating yourself. This?" He shook the bottle, making sure she focused on it for a solid moment. "This isn't a solution, it is a cause. Until you're able to learn that, you will keep falling back on this 'miracle cure'. You'll do it 'till you die."
He stood, letting his telekinesis take the bottle to the other side of the room. Holding out a hand, he offered her a way up. "Do you want to die, Eliza?"
Eliza didn't have to consider this. The answer was clear enough. "N-No!"
"Then don't continue to force death upon yourself. Get up, Eliza."~*~*~*~
Get up, Eliza.
Get up...
Get up...
Get up!
Eliza sucked in a sharp breath, the simple act causing a vicious stabbing pain in her side. She hissed, clutching her side with numb fingers. Slowly, she sat up, strained muscles pulling at the movement.
How long had she been asleep? A hand shot to the mud caking her face. It was dry. A glance at the sky informed her that it wasn't raining. How far had they traveled, exactly? It didn't matter. She'd make her way back home eventually. For now, she had to get her bearings. This place, wherever it was, was a haven for Samael. That meant she wasn't safe. Not yet, at least.
Pulling herself to her feet unsteadily, she took her first look at her surroundings. What she saw amazed her.
Up in the sky were thousands of lights. Like stars, but hung in midair. They didn't twinkle, staying firm in their nigh orange coloration. And they were so close, closer than any star she had ever seen. It was as if she could touch them. Perhaps she could, in this foreign place. Once the mission was done, she would make a point out of approaching these wondrous lights. For now, though, she had to focus on the task at hand.
A row of tall evergreen trees about three hundred yards away surrounded her, the thick boughs interlocking and creating a wall that was difficult to see beyond. She shook off the feeling of entrapment, continuing her sweep. A fine brick building was only a short distance away, made up in a style of architecture Eliza hadn't witnessed before. Upon seeing it, Eliza tensed. It was more than likely that this building housed her enemy. Were the others already within? She couldn't hear any sort of commotion...perhaps they were already dead.
Eliza patted the sheath where her dagger had been, scowling as she recalled it being thrown from her hand. She'd have to rely on her magic, which was practically nonexistent against someone of Samael's caliber.
Creeping toward the building, she willed adrenaline to come to her aid. None joined the battle, however, leaving her stranded. She could feel just how sluggish she was. By the time she had approached the building, she had stopped trying to be stealthy. At this point, Samael knew she was coming. It was only a matter of when, she supposed.
Walking around the building, she searched for an entrance. There was only one, in what she presumed to be the front. Surrounding the door was two large windows, a peek inside revealed to her racks of clothing in bright fabrics and strange designs. Things one could only find in Sinstead, though the makeups were foreign to her, and this was certainly
not the crowded city of debauchery.
Gritting her teeth, Eliza pulled on the plain silver doorknob, marveling as it opened easily for her. She had been expecting some form of resistance. Then again, Samael gave off the image of a cocky asshole. Stepping inside, she tried to leave the door hanging open. As if by magic, though, it swung closed slowly behind her.
Samael had to be there.
"Samael!" Eliza called, throwing all caution to the wind. For a few moments, she waited. When no one popped out of the darkness, she began searching the premises. Finding...nothing.
Absolutely. Fucking. Nothing.
Doors marked with the words '
MEN' and '
WOMEN' lead her to rooms full of curtains hanging on metal rods, all of which guarding empty alcoves. Around the main room that she had walked into there were strange pieces of merchandise made of clear or semi-transparent material Eliza had never before seen. It was hard to the touch, but when she put her hand behind it she could see through it. The clothes on the racks felt so very soft, in colors brighter than she could ever have imagined from fabric.
While this was all well and good, Eliza was extremely disappointed. After all, Samael was nowhere to be found, there were no ghouls or the dead bodies of those who had jumped in before her. It was just an empty shop of some sort. Eliza concluded that they had all been dropped off at different locations. An advanced portal trick, but one Samael could surely pull off.
Taking advantage of what she had been blessed with, Eliza stripped out of her clothing. Reluctantly, she abandoned her yellow hood, which was little more than a tattered piece of fabric stained with blood and dirt. She traded it out for the strange soft clothing, picking out a black outfit with leggings that hugged her body like a second skin and an overly-thick, hooded blouse that draped over her body like a blanket. It didn't combat the itching on her flesh from the mud she had rolled in, but it was comfortable and nondescript.
Leaving the shop behind, she stepped into the cool night. She stared, for a moment at the evergreen trees surrounding her. Then, at the strange lights in the distance. Samael was out there, somewhere.
She swore to herself that she would find him.
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Tim the Yeti
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