A dream within a dream (Isaac)

[Guest]

Mio nodded, her eyes troubled, There's always a catch, she thought drily, If it's not some white ghost thing underwater, it's a bunch of One maniacs wanting to kill you for your religion. She looked at Isaac, 'This One.... god. That would be Dominicus?' Her strange accent molded the shape of the word differently from that of a common tongue, making it sound faintly exotic. ...His followers tend not to like your kind.. Would that be the adhiel? Or Pan followers? Either way, she was one of both. Sighing, Mio felt the realisation sink into her that they where undoubtedly in danger, one way or another, and this man stood in front of her who talked to vegetation was, in a way, holding her life in his hands. The adhiel looked at him with somewhat of a glint in her eye, 'I think we should go.' she said.

[Syrawenn]

If anything the voices sounded less like the rustling vegetation that had pointed north and much more like giddy children's voices, leading them on to the west.

"Gold, gooooold! It's all goooold!" They repeated, laughing and giggling in a strange rhytm that needed no song. All sounds behind them were cut off by the rapid growth of greens, effectively shielding them against the followers of Hope.

"Come and get your share!" The little voices implored, beckoning them on through the foliage. Something moved between the leaves. A hint of flowing cloth was visible for those looking in the direction where the voices were coming from.

In front of them a trail of red ants were marching over the impromptu path, following in each other's footsteps as if they were set in stone.

[Guest]

"Dominicus," he repeated. "It would be him." He grinned, as though he were well enough informed of her thoughts to somehow sympathize, and had sought by levity to counter her reaction, assuring himself of their security within the plants' cover. Then he heard the voices reply. His face hardened and lost its look of certainty.

"West or North?" he asked. "Oh I'm quite sure he said North, yes- no gold, not for me, so long as they're the one's giving it! I remember what he said, there were creatures that lure men out, kill men, eat men for all I know! Gods," he said, "what else could there be to find?"

He was not at all inclined to enter into dialogue with such beings as would tempt him from beyond the foliage with petty cash.

"NO!" he cried, and spun toward their sounds, his hands clawed and his arms raised. "Bring me west, out of their way! I won't be shot, burnt, poisoned- so help me I'll get where we ought, show me! Don't hide the path to Abigail!"

[Guest]

Abigail?! Who was that? Mio watched the red ants with some trepidation, stepping lightly away from their path. The voices confused her, and she stared blankly in their direction, resisting a sudden urge to find the owners of such young voices. The trees, the grass: Their pointing the wrong way. She thought, frowning, We should follow the voices. They're only children. We should follow. She had no interest in the gold they talked of. It was the thought of children in danger that steered her West, treading her way through the vegetation. If they where being followed, then the children might be in danger too. The voices had clouded her mind, and she shook her head, trying to shake the feeling off. Go West. she thought, her pace quickening, Why are you standing around?? You're in danger! Mio only had one thing in mind, find the voices, save them, escape from their followers: Go West. 'It's ok.' Mio called, forgetting common and using comfortable Elvish, 'Stay where you are. Don't move. Stay where you are!'

[Syrawenn]

The tinkling voices continued their little chant about gold, luring Mio further into the undergrowth. The steps she took to the West took them further away from the little spot where Isaac had asked for guidance and where the grass had pointed him north ever so subtly. Yet they had taken the easy looking western trail instead, ignoring the warnings given by the simple man they had left behind in Dolmensted.

Do not go west, he had said, yet here they were, being guided by nothing more than a strange red light and the innocent voices of child like beings. What was wisdom and which was folly? It was hard to say here where the sun tried it's best to keep penetrating the thickening layers of leaves.

"Gold, gold, it's all gold!" The voices sang, asking Mio to come play with them. "It's your's too! Take it, if you will!" They implored, bending the branches and showing Mio an open spot. A heap of sandy grains was shining in the sun. No children were visible, yet their lovely voices kept dancing around the tiny nuggets. "Take what you wish, you found us, it gives you the right." They told her, ignoring Isaac's shouts.

The little red light danced at eyeheight, waiting for the two at the open spot as it made it's way further west.

[Guest]

This time he moved swiftly toward the girl, casting a scornful glance toward the young voices and shivering with disgust.

He took Mio by the arm, clamping down hard. "Ignore what they say," he said. He had feared she was in some way concerned for these things, after hearing her voice and seeing the manner in which she followed after them. Most likely it was some instinctive sentiment triggered by the semblence of need, trumping fear in this case and directing the elf towards doom. Fortunately, the halfbreed was made of coarser stuff- Isaac told himself -and resistant to such appeals. Who knew, he thought- maybe there would come worse obstacles, to which he would prove the vulnerable one, and require her help in escaping.

He planted his walking stick in the ground between himself and the pile of treasure. "Begone!" he cried.

[Guest]

Mio felt the grip on her arm, and turned to look at Isaac, her eyes blank and wide with fear, 'What are you doing?' she whispered in common, 'We must help them.' The young adhiel put a gentle hand on his gripping one, 'Let me go.'

He was shouting at the children, and the children where in danger. Mio frowned, 'Stop.' she said to him, 'They are only children!' She made her way determinedly into the open spot, turning this way and that in the sun as she searched for the source of the voices, Where are they? she thought, her heart beating hard against her chest, Why won't they come out? The adhiel turned towards the trees, her chestnut hair catching the sun as she turned, and once again resorted to elvish, 'Come out!' she said firmly, 'We won't hurt you! Come out!' She wasn't sure why it was her native tongue she chose to speak in, just that it sounded more soothing, less harsh than the unwieldy common tongue.

[Syrawenn]

The dancing red light was bouncing in front of Isaac, obscuring his view of Mio by persistantly moving into his line of sight. It was hard to keep a grip on the Adhiel woman and plant his staff in the ground at the same time. This allowed Mio to release herself and step into the little clearing.

The children were nowhere in sight, although from the corner of their eyes small shadows moved between the trees. The gold was glittering in front of them, unguarded, untouched except for the childish castle built in a corner as if it were sand.

"Take what you wish." The sweet voices chanted. "Take it as we thank you for wishing to help. It is yours."

There was no confirmation whether the disembodied children understood the Adhiel's words or not. They sounded at ease, pleased with the presence of their two unexpected visitors.

The red light danced on, crossing the clearing to the west. A bigger shape moved between the undergrowth. A face flashed between the branches. Abigail moved on towards the west.

[Guest]

He raised his hand to swat at the spot and guard his face, the staff meanwhile coming to his side. As Mio stepped off he said nothing. He merely looked through the red glare from the elf and to the plants around them, quite certain that what lay ahead was none other than a lure, an illusion cast by one or another malicious being, whom nothing would delight more than a meal, consisting of the very flesh of Isaac and the girl's, with perhaps a lush spray of dandelions, raw or cooked but slightly, as meets the taste of monsters.

Yet this was not a moment to entertain the notions of any fantastical creature, or its culinary habits- Isaac sensed danger. He saw the face, he saw the movement. He would dispense, for the coming flickers, with disparaging remarks, and move himself to deliver the elf from whatever trap it should be. No fortune in gold could affect his judgement; he was attracted to values less abstract (or at least flattered himself in believing that he was).

"Damit Mio, kids don't have the kind of cash!" he said. Her gentle request had flustered him. "There's more out there than children!" He strode in quickly behind, and turned where the face had been glimpsed, his weapon readied to strike fast.

[Guest]

Mio saw the movements in the trees, and she swung towards them, her heart beating hard against her ribs. Isaac's sudden vehemence had startled her, and she sensed now that they where in danger. But what about the children? a small voice asked in her head, Will you not even help them? The young adhiel shook her head and addressed the vegetation, her thoughts swirling, 'No.' she said firmly in Elvish, 'It is not mine, and I don't want it.' She stood straight and firm, her arms at her side and her sword still hanging at her belt, 'Come out now.' she demanded, swallowing her fear to the back of her throat, 'Come out and let us see who you are.' Her hands were clenched at her side, willing herself not to draw her sword. She didn't see the face in the undergrowth. She kept her face towards the direction of the voices, hoping they would come out. 'We don't want you gold,' she repeated, more softly this time, 'We have no need for it. We won't hurt you, if you don't hurt us.' As if to demonstrate, Mio undid her belt buckle with trembling hands and let her sword fall to the ground. She had just rid herself of any defence she might have had. Her throat was dry with dread. That was either stupid, or useful, she thought, praying to Pan that it was the latter. 'There.' she said softly, her hazel eyes boring into the undergrowth, 'Now come out.'

[Guest]

It was with confusion that he watched as her weapon slid to the ground. He focused on the object as it lay there at her feet; once fully convinced of the truth to what he saw, he then became aware that, holding his staff before him, he appeared to contradict the statement which she had just dared to make. A sudden sympathy for her gesture compelled his hands to loosen. The staff fell to the ground. Immediately he regretted the action. He was convinced, he found, that those creatures with whom they sought to reach an agreement, or form a compromise, would not understand; and, in their efforts to announce their intention, he and Mio had rendered themselves utterly vulnerable to the coming attack. He edged backwards, closer to the girl, his fists clenching.

"Let's be reasonable," he said to her. "If they come out, you can run first."

[Guest]

Mio felt, rather than saw Isaac's movements. She let one breath out slowly and clenched her fists as he had, immensely thankful that he was there. All the same, her fear rose up a notch at the realization that neither of them had the means to defend themselves properly, and if the creatures weren't the compromising type, both of them were in deep trouble. The young adhiel had come to believe that Isaac was now her protector, ever since he and the other man had found her in the clearing. Indeed, it had been him that had warned her of the danger they were running from. Mio pursed her lips, considering. She owed this man a lot.

She closed her eyes and barely turned her head to look at him, but inclined her head an inch or so, and gave him a small smile, 'We run together.' she said softly.

[Syrawenn]

While focussed on whatever might be hiding in the bushes, Mio's sword started to sag a little into the gold dust. The wind picked up more golden freckles and poured it over the blade. Isaac's staff was making similar motions, slowly but surely disappearing into the miniature valley of gold they had entered.

Their weight together caused their feet to vanish into the soft heaps. Into the undergrowth nothing moved, no voice sounded, no branches cracked. Boots already gone the gold now started to play around their legs as they both noticed the sinking feeling.

Time was not on their side as the dusty gold turned into a golden quicksand, quickly immobilizing their legs before there was a chance of stepping back. Actions would have to be taken swiftly and smartly, or the very heaps of gold they had resisted to take with them would now in turn take them.

Just a hand away their weaponry was treated likewise as they were vanishing beneath the golden surface.

Only when fleeing was excluded did the voices sound again, the laughter turned into malicious snickers without anything or anybody ever showing.

[Guest]

'No!' Mio lurched forward and plunged her hands into the gold, scrabbling in the glinting sand in an attempt pull out her sword as it was sinking from sight. 'Trithalsol.' she breathed, terrified that her beloved sword with be pulled from her grasp and into the golden void. She made to move forwards and found her balance almost overturned as her feet refused to move. 'What the...' She glanced down at her feet and almost cried out in alarm, 'Isaac!'

In a frenzied panic, the scared Adhiel began to struggle against the sucking gold, 'I can't... it won't .... stuck!' she gasped, trying to heave herself free, but unwilling to pull her hands away from the sinking sword. The laughter from the undergrowth sent shivers down her spine, and she turned on them angrily, 'Damn you!' she shouted in elvish, her hazel eyes shining in fury, 'What sick pleasure do you get from this! Come out and show yourselves cowards!!'

[Guest]

"Keep your hands free!" he yelled, and twisted toward his staff, bending at his knees and waist, and reaching for the weapon to pull it from the sands. If there was one thing he thought he had accomplished since his last scrape with the supernatural, it was a level of discipline which prevented him from flailing or casting about unnecessarily, in just this type of situation. Certainly, he was quite sure even as he bent down that his movement might very well cause him to sink faster. But rather than shift between possibilities, and anguish, through that critical moment, over which choice was the least risky, he simply dove as his body bid him do, not dreading the repercussions with whatever of his sense still remained, but absorbed wholly in the attempt, and concentrating on nothing but its proper execution, to emerge with the weapon in hand, and plant it firmly in the solid ground nearby, to raise himself upon it, as upon a lever, and pull himself from out of the quicksand.

[Syrawenn]

While the sword sagged deeper and deeper into the golden grave Mio's panick only caused her to sink further. The more she wrestled the dusty sands, the more it refused to let her go as if it turned to stone around every bit of her body that went under.

Right before her knees went in, the girl's moves toppled her over, giving her just enough reach to grab the last bit of metal sticking from the moving sands...if she wanted to. Of course this would cause her to move even more, making her body shift under the gold quicker. It was a rough choice.

Right then Isaac fell over too, yet his moves were more controlled. Despite the soft, swirling sand it still hit him hard. The shock travelled through his body and the gold dust pulled him in further. It was lucky his staff had not travelled further from where he had dropped it.

His hands encountered the trusted wood. Next to him Mio was sinking fast. It was going to be a race against the clock. Pulling himself to safety might mean loosing the woman to the treacherous sands.

It was a rough choice indeed...

[Guest]

He was overconfident. The shock of impact did nothing to his conviction that if he acted in the correct way, he could save her and himself.

He worked to extend the staff towards her. "Grab hold!" he said. With the remainder of his movement, he then sought to steer himself through the deepening sand and onto dry land, searching with his free hand for purchase, while keeping the stick within grasping distance of Mio.

It was not clear exactly how he should treat this substance in which he was caught; he opted to combine the wide sweep of his legs with a forward undulation of his torso, as though swimming at a slow speed, in order to buoy himself upon the sands, and control the direction in which he sank, riding the downward pull from the center of the pool to the edge. Hopefully, she would have gotten hold of his staff before he was too far from the nearest solid.

[Guest]

Mio hazel eyes widened with shock as she sank deeper into the gold. The lower half of her body was immobilized beneath the surface, and panic raced through her veins as the ability to move betrayed her. I've come close to drowning once before, a thought said in her head, But not again. Not now. Pan, don't let it be. The staff waved before her and she heaved one hand out of the glinting mess and made a wild grab for the wooden stick. She cried out as the sharp movement caused her body to shift treacherously into the sucking golden dust, but at least she had hold of Isaac's staff. The thought gave her a small inkling of comfort in so much despair.

'I've got it!' she shouted at him. But she had only just got hold of it. Her fingers where slipping dangerously off the staff's surface as the distance between the two victims widened. The decision took only a moment to make: it was time to let go of Trithalsol. The adhiel closed her eyes in pain as she pulled her second hand out of the gold, leaving her trusty, beautiful sword to sink out of complete sight. Mio bit her lip and sighted her eyes on the staff, almost throwing her arm from her side to reach it. Her second set of fingers clasped around the wood and her knuckles whitened as she held on in an unbreakable grip. She found herself making whispered prayers under her breath as she held on to the only anchor she had, 'Please don't let go,' she called shakily to Isaac, 'Please.'

[Syrawenn]

"Strength in mind is stronger than strength in body. Remember that." Words from the passed played around as Mio exchanged the sword for a better hold on Isaac's staff. The precious weapon started to sink further, slowly disappearing from sight. Somewhere it was so contrary to the person her father had been, focussing on bodily skills and making Mio decide she wanted to be a great fighter. Who was in the right? Her father or her grandfather? Soon she would find out, for the sword was sinking beyond reach fast now as Mio and Isaac struggled for their lives.

The impact travelled through Isaac's body, leaving him without strength for precious flickers. With his staff thrown out he divided his chances at life, especially when Mio's added weight started to drag his left side down. The girl's frantic clasping at the staff undid some of his controlled movements. Yet it was the subtle, small swimming motions that started to pay off. While sinking in deeper the thought-out moves of Isaac's limbs gave him some momentum to move towards the place where they had last felt solid ground, out of the golden treachery.

Agonizingly slow Isaac moved. Heavily Mio hung unto him for dear life. A few paces to safety. It was impossible to say if they would reach it before going under.

No more than two paces away. The staff could not hold Mio's head above the golden surface, there simply was not enough strength in Isaac's arm to do anything but hold on. The girl was going under until, despite her firm grasp on his staff. Breathing became impossible for the Adhiel woman.

Just one pace. Isaac's nose was touching the gold now, his legs kicking him forward and down, always further down.

Half a pace. His hand encountered solid ground, with nothing to hold on to and the weight of the Adhiel pulling him further as salvation was just beyond reach.

A hands width, his body too far down to pull up on the mere firm ground. Nose going under, eyes following next.

A branch.

Sturdy wood found it's way into Isaac's hand. By the feel of it it was still attached to a tree!

[Guest]

He felt her taking hold. His strength was in the struggle, so he couldn't scream, but the urge shot through him just the same, freezing his throat and making his jaw go rigid.

With the touch of the branch, his free arm shook, then slowed, and his fingers encircled it in their vise-grip. His teeth ground together. There was control in his exertion- deep within he feared he would break the branch if he held too hard, pulled too fast, but he was sinking, he was suffocating, and so was she.

All his concentration was in his hands, and in the muscles which wound their way down his wrists and into his shoulders. He felt the muscles of his back contort like never before, was never so aware of their capacity as he was now, when he cried through his clenched teeth and pulled with all his might upon the branch, holding fast onto the wooden staff.

[Guest]

It was as if a pillow had been clamped over her face. Mio closed her eyes as her head sank under, letting out a tiny strangled cry as her last chance to breathe slipped away from her like her precious sword. Her grandfather's words drifted lazily around the blank caverns of her head. Mio had never known fear like this: a rush of shock hit her whole body, and if it hadn't been immobilized as if set in stone, she would have thrashed in panic. Her lips tight shut to stop the intrusion of the sucking gold, Mio held her breath as tight as she dared, her chest constricted by the crushing gold.

Strength in mind is stronger than strength in body. Remember that. Yes. She remembered. She remembered now that her body was caught in a vice, her strength failing to save her life. She remembered now that her beautiful gift from her father was lost forever in the sucking hole. Strength in mind is stronger... But her mind was blank with shock, her breath failing her by the second. ...mind is stronger.. It is stronger, she told herself firmly. Don't give up.

Her hands still had hold of the staff, her knuckle joints stinging and aching under the strain of not letting go. Don't let go. If she could have cried out in fear, in pain, in grief, she would have done. Help me, grandpa. The thought came desperately into her head, Not like this. No. The conviction hit her like a brick. No. This is a stupid way to die. She tried to kick her legs, to propel herself upwards. I have the staff. I'm not giving up. Don't worry Grandpa, I'm not giving up.

[Syrawenn]

ooc
My sincere apologies! The reply system did not warn me (or I missed it). You are long overdue for a post...next time if it takes longer than 3 or 4 days, please pm me

ic
The branch cooperated, not breaking under Isaac's sturdy grip. The flexible, young wood endured the sudden strain admirably. The young man probably got the worst of it: being torn in two by two different pieces of wood. Yet his struggle through the golden muck was coming to an end as slowly but surely the two bodies moved through the treacherous sands towards safety. Isaac's overstrained muscles were reaching their limit, yet their sluggish movements payed off.

Suddenly his torso met with resistance -real resistance- as the firmer ground was reached. From here it should be doable to hoist himself and Mio up on the grassland.

Shock helped the young Adhiel to keep her fists clenched around the life saving staff. Even if she had wanted instincts had taken over, making sure her grip did not waver. There was movement, however slow and agonizing. The lack of oxygen was getting to her head, painting pictures in front of her that could not possibly exist. Her grandfather was nodding in that all knowing way. I knew you wouldn't give up. He spoke without sound although his lips moved.

Suddenly when her throat seemed on fire they broke free of the pulling gold, liberating them from the horrible constraints that could have well killed them had they acted mere flickers later.

[Guest]

ooc: no problemo

ic: Amidst the pain of his anguished body, which on so many previous occasions he had treated only slightly worse than as he did now, he still could find his bearings, locate his extremities beyond the bright sensation of their abuse and bring to bear upon them the weight of his prevailing will. The branch did not break and he felt mildly triumphant; the girl, as the resistance on her side indicated, had gotten and kept hold.

Having found purchase he again groped with the whole of his body in the general direction of safety, scissoring his legs with what speed the mud permitted them, and trying for the earth with his heels, to catch hold, find leverage and take the strain from his pulling hand. The briefest of thoughts as to their response immediately following their restoration to walkable ground surged like lightning through his brain and he grunted, envisioned the tract of forestland as it had appeared moments earlier, from a standing position, and kept pulling, aiming to hoist Mio clear of the sands after beaching himself.

[Guest]

Her chest would explode, her mind crush in on itself and leave just an echo of pain, freeing her body from this torture. How Mio longed just to open her mouth and breath, fill the lungs that strained and tightened against her chest, even if it was only bitter sand she would taste. But it was the image of her grandfather that bade her to hold on, to resist the numbing pain in her chest, and the shock from wiping her mind blank with one clean swipe.

Beautiful swirling colours filled her head, whirling rainbows that arched luxuriously through her skull and into the canvas of her shut eyes, painting indistinguishable images on her closed eyelids. And yet her grandfather remained, as solid as stone, as if he was stood inside her. It might explain the weightening of her skull, anyway. Mio resisted unconsciousness like the plague, using all the strength she couldn't put into her body to fight the darkness, the warmness that might overcome her should she pass out.

The staff above was moving, pulling her through the sand at a painstakingly slow pace. Mio tried to push with her legs, putting a small burst of energy into straining her calf muscles into action, but the movement only exhausted her further. Her grip on the hard wood increased in the anticipation of possible safety, and she prayed silently and wordlessly to Pan, begging for life.

Something solid hit Mio's side and she grabbed at it, taking one hand off the staff to feel around. Her hand met solid ground at the same time as her chest tightened a notch further, screaming for oxygen. Mio fought desperately for a hand-hold, her fingers scrabbling at the floor for something, anything to grab onto. Please, she thought desperately, her voice sounding oddly echoey in her own head, Something. Anything!

Her hand found a branch, and she pulled with all her might, willing it not to break. She sacrificed the security of the staff in order to get a better hold on the branch, and her wrists clicked and stretched with the strain. Come ON! She thought furiously as her head whirled dangerously. If only she could break her head out of the sand.... but her strength was failing. She needed help.

[Syrawenn]

"Easy, fellow! You don't want to break anything, I'm sure." A high pitched voice sounded from somewhere up on the very branch Isaac was holding. A little man was sitting astride on the wood, holding on to a pair of leaves to avoid rolling off. His big eyes were out of proportion with the rest of his miniature body, the hat complementing the strangeness of it all with feathers and fruit sticking out everywhere of the black kettle of cloth.

The mini midget did not give Isaac a chance to reply. "You look like a beached whale, if you don't mind me saying so." He chuckled. Right at that moment all weight disappeared from the staff, making the branch pull Isaac out of the golden sands for lack of the extra ballast.

"Whahoooooo!" The green clad man was launched from his branch and toppled over to the ground a few feet up ahead, clutching his treasured hat with fervour."

All that was visible from Mio was a waning hand, holding on to a smaller branch to the side. The girl had made a wrong choice by letting go of the staff and was in dire need.