The Samurai, the Typhoon, and the Strange-Familiar Land

[Serril Indaiyu]

Immediately following the events of Flowers are Flowers Because They Fall...

What is a dream?

What does it mean to be awake?

Consciousness ebbed and flowed. It swelled in moments, opening Serril's eyes to a world without focus or understanding. He was distantly aware of the taste of blood in his mouth, and the all-permeating smell of smoke, but before he could understand their meaning, he was subsumed once more, and blanketed by the darkness. When Serril opened his eyes again, he saw no recognition in the trees around him. Was he still in the Wilds?

Serril stirred, now aware that he was not moving under his own power, but was being carried.

"Sibi?" his hoarse voice cracked through dried, bloody lips. It was so hard to focus.

The head above tilted slightly in recognition to the voice. Serril's addled mind tried to make sense of the face he was seeing. Not Sibi. Not his kin. Serril's body tensed, dulled instincts finally starting to wake. Then he saw it. The eye. That horrible, monstrous eye, sitting within the fold of a terrible scar across one side of the man's face. There was nothing natural about that eye. bright blue and twisted, large and misshapen, it bore no resemblance to it's dark counterpart on the other side of the man's face. Fear brought him closer to the brink of being fully awake, and Serril began taking panic breaths as he tried to resist. It was too much in that moment, and the torpor of his injuries once more closed his eyes.

[Zondas Demon-Eye]

Zondas watched as the child once again went limp in his grasp. He'd made as much use of his healing kit as he could, but there was only so much that bandages and herbs could do. The boy was weak, exhausted, and bloodied. If he survived the journey - and that was very much in doubt - there was no guarantee the Raven Queen wouldn't find him anyway. The Eladrin grit his teeth at the thought.

"Kshhk!"

An invasive memory found a common thread in that moment, bringing feelings as bitter as ashes on the tongue. A similar child, held in his arms. One who never did wake up. So long ago, but always yesterday. Zondas felt eyes on him ahead. He looked up.

"You can't 'ave zees one. Not today."

The raven stood stock-still on the branch of the tree that he'd tethered his horse to.

"I left you a whole forest of bloody corpses. You should be satisfied."

Zondas stood his ground, a surge of anger hot and heavy in his chest. Eventually, the black bird took off with a caw, passing over too closely to be an accident. He watched the raven leave until he could see it no longer through the trees. Only then did he return to his horse, taking care to cradle the boy in one arm as best as he could until he worked into the stirrups and eventually his saddle. He held the firbolg against him at the front of the saddle, mindful to cradle his head.

[Serril Indaiyu]

The world returned in faltering sensation. The smell of horse intermingled with the omnipresence of smoke. The rhythmic thump of hooves against ground. Serril's unfocused eyes stared up at the faint spears of fading sunlight, piercing the veil of forest and smoke alike. He comprehended none of it.

What is a dream?

What does it mean to be awake?

Moments in time began to drip back into recollection with the color of crimson. Faces contorted into death masques - caricatures of people he knew.

Serril comprehended none of it. His eyes tried to fix upon the stranger in the saddle. The man with that horrible eye.

Serril blinked. Slept. Dreamt. Was he awake? Had he ever been?

The trees were gone. He'd never known a world without trees. No longer holding the wherewithal to panic, Serril's head rolled to one side, until he could see an alien sight. Not a tree to be seen. Instead, awash within a sea of grass. Unmoored from his reality, Serril had no choice but to accept it. Maybe it was a dream, and maybe he was awake.

His eyes closed again.

[Zondas Demon-Eye]

The boy wasn't the only one who was exhausted.

Furious battle and hours of hard riding that followed were beginning to wear heavily on Zondas. Now, he was back in the sea of grass where he had come from. For almost an hour, he paced on his horse, seemingly in random directions. The Eladrin swordsman paused in places, dismounting and walking around his steed as if looking for something misplaced. He squatted down in the tall grass, momentarily disappearing from sight. Uninterested, his horse was more than willing to stay idle and graze. After a moment, Zondas popped back up, holding a blade of grass between his fingers. Turning away from the far-distant Moonwood and the pall of smoke still hanging in the sky beyond, he set his sights on a vast flat expanse. The Eladrin took two-and-one-half careful steps to the left, pivoted slightly, then let go of the blade of grass in his hand. It fluttered down to the ground, or would have, were it not for being picked up by a breeze that most certainly wasn't there, and carried straight ahead.

Zondas allowed himself the smallest, most tired smile possible. He returned to the saddle, checking on the boy. The firbolg's pulse was weak, and the child felt cool and clammy. If they didn't follow the path now, he was going to die. It was now or never.

"Yaaah!!"

Zondas spurred his horse onward, cradling the boy against his chest as he leaned into the momentum, urging his mount to push his limits. The sea of grass began to whip past in a blur of golden waves as the child's eyes opened again. Zondas met his eyes, and felt the touch of that hateful memory again.

"I've got you. I'm not letting go."

Zondas wasn't sure if it was reassuring. He'd never had a talent that sort of thing. But it was earnest. That he could do.

The child's eyes focused on Zondas. He didn't recoil from his sight.

As they rode onward, the grass seemed to grow taller, and taller, and taller again. Or they were galloping lower, and lower, and lower still. Perhaps it was both and none at all.

A moment later, and there was only grass, swaying in the wind as if there had been no one at all.