2nd of Summer, 522 AV
No matter how hard she scrubbed, Farren still felt dirty. That place. It clung to her like a second skin, seeping into her pores and making her paranoid beyond measure. It had been so unexplainable lovely that place, a world that existed between doors. Where everything collided. There was no making sense of it. Couldn’t make sense of it. Didn’t want to think about it, but it was there… Always in the back of her mind. Giving her an itch she couldn’t scratch. Not if she wanted to survive.
Farren sighed and slid further in the wooden tub. The water had long since gone tepid, her skin wrinkly, but at least it gave her space to think. Though perhaps that was what her problem was. Too much thinking, not enough acting. They had sent her to that place, hadn’t they? Wanted her to discover it? She’d been pursuing this line of questioning for days upon days to know avail. When she’d returned from that place, whoever kept after the Overlook was gone leaving her to stumbles out of the nightmare on her own, and pick up the pieces along the way. Only she didn’t know how to put them back together. Her world was shattered. That world shouldn’t exist, and yet it did, and everyone just accepted it? How many knew about it? Why was a place like that allowed to simply exist? She had to know. She craved answers, but was coming up empty when she tried to think of whom she could ask.
Any she told were like as not to brand her a magic user which would be a death sentence, so she had to be careful. Had to be smart, and keep such observations to herself until she found the right person. But whom? Well the Night Eyes for a start. They were the ones who sent her on that petching mission in the first place after all. They must know about the… tha… the door. Petch even in her thoughts she had trouble thinking of that place. It made her skin crawl thinking about how foolishly she had blundered into that place. At first she needed a place to stay, and she’d been more afraid of the wolves than she thought she could be of anything else but then… in the morning well, it all came crystal clear what exactly had happened to her. She had stumbled into the home of some powerful mage, and it was by sheer luck that she managed to escape that place. But there were soo many people there. Were they all under the mage’s spell, trapped to trade and play music for eternity? It seemed like a community had developed there? Could it really be so ordinary?
Farren wished she had asked more questions while she had been there, or of the Overlook’s keeper. Perhaps she should have stayed, but she had been running on pure adrenaline that morning trying to get as far away from that place as possible. In the night it had given her hope, but in the day, thats when reality set in, and she knew she had to leave. Day had a knack for that, disabusing the illusions of the night for the brutal truth of the morning. Farren preferred it that way. She scratched her head, squeezing her eyes shut as she then sank beneath the water of the tub for a tick before coming back up for air. Then she got out and started to hastily dry off. Her problem wasn’t going to get any smaller by her continuing to sit in this tub, and she needed to do something before she went mad.
WC - 612
.
No matter how hard she scrubbed, Farren still felt dirty. That place. It clung to her like a second skin, seeping into her pores and making her paranoid beyond measure. It had been so unexplainable lovely that place, a world that existed between doors. Where everything collided. There was no making sense of it. Couldn’t make sense of it. Didn’t want to think about it, but it was there… Always in the back of her mind. Giving her an itch she couldn’t scratch. Not if she wanted to survive.
Farren sighed and slid further in the wooden tub. The water had long since gone tepid, her skin wrinkly, but at least it gave her space to think. Though perhaps that was what her problem was. Too much thinking, not enough acting. They had sent her to that place, hadn’t they? Wanted her to discover it? She’d been pursuing this line of questioning for days upon days to know avail. When she’d returned from that place, whoever kept after the Overlook was gone leaving her to stumbles out of the nightmare on her own, and pick up the pieces along the way. Only she didn’t know how to put them back together. Her world was shattered. That world shouldn’t exist, and yet it did, and everyone just accepted it? How many knew about it? Why was a place like that allowed to simply exist? She had to know. She craved answers, but was coming up empty when she tried to think of whom she could ask.
Any she told were like as not to brand her a magic user which would be a death sentence, so she had to be careful. Had to be smart, and keep such observations to herself until she found the right person. But whom? Well the Night Eyes for a start. They were the ones who sent her on that petching mission in the first place after all. They must know about the… tha… the door. Petch even in her thoughts she had trouble thinking of that place. It made her skin crawl thinking about how foolishly she had blundered into that place. At first she needed a place to stay, and she’d been more afraid of the wolves than she thought she could be of anything else but then… in the morning well, it all came crystal clear what exactly had happened to her. She had stumbled into the home of some powerful mage, and it was by sheer luck that she managed to escape that place. But there were soo many people there. Were they all under the mage’s spell, trapped to trade and play music for eternity? It seemed like a community had developed there? Could it really be so ordinary?
Farren wished she had asked more questions while she had been there, or of the Overlook’s keeper. Perhaps she should have stayed, but she had been running on pure adrenaline that morning trying to get as far away from that place as possible. In the night it had given her hope, but in the day, thats when reality set in, and she knew she had to leave. Day had a knack for that, disabusing the illusions of the night for the brutal truth of the morning. Farren preferred it that way. She scratched her head, squeezing her eyes shut as she then sank beneath the water of the tub for a tick before coming back up for air. Then she got out and started to hastily dry off. Her problem wasn’t going to get any smaller by her continuing to sit in this tub, and she needed to do something before she went mad.
WC - 612
.