Note: NiGHTS will now be referred to as "it" but only because he/she is, well, an "it" – a case of androgyny. I was reluctant at first because of the term's usually negative connotation.
Owl perched in one of the shorter trees that dotted the child's meadow to escape the action below. This little girl was quite rumbustious. She was a lively spirit that rivaled many of the past children he had come to be acquainted with, one that NiGHTS would certainly enjoy playing with. Owl coasted up higher as his thoughts paused in direction, his worry resurfacing. He scanned the tree line from his new perch, trying to find NiGHTS. Hopefully it hadn't run off again. It had been acting so odd lately. He hoped it was just NiGHTS physical wounds that impeded its vibrant spirit, but there was still that sinking feeling that something . . . was . . . off.
"Whatcha looking for?"
Startled, Owl fluttered violently as he nearly slipped off his perch. Behind him, the child stood perpendicular with the tree's body some feet below – no holding on necessary. "Whoo, a charge of mine," he took his seat again, his feathers in disarray, "it hasn't been feeling well."
"Hm?"
"I've been trying to help it recuperate. Your lively spirit reminds me of it. I was just now thinking of how perhaps you would like to help me rekindle such spirit within it. Maybe its physically wounds would heal faste-"
"Is that it?" She pointed towards the shadows by the far side of the meadow.
Owl cocked his head in a very owl-like manner. "Oh?" He looked over to where the child pointed but saw nothing, not even the shadows moving. "Uh, no."
She looked at him funny, almost mimicking his pose. "Then what does it look like?"
"Whoo, I believe the term you use to refer to its appearance is a jester. That is what most of the other visitors have done. Mainly purple, with-"
"Okay!" She yelled as she floated down.
"Wait, young one! Oh, always rushing around and interru-"
(*&^&*
As her sun turned blue again, she took her theatrical stance at the grassy feet of a mountain. She crouched, taking her position, taking aim at the tree tower that stood in the distance before her. The girl ran to gain as much speed as she could, the long grass tickling her shins. Cresting the flower peppered slope she jumped, briefly hovering across the distance to the top of the tree that served as Mr. Owl's newest perch. Sometimes she was sure she could fly but she kept floating back down. Something was still off. Swinging from a branch she turned to Mr. Owl. He seemed to be looking pass the tree line of purple puff. "Whatcha looking at?"
The old owl stirred slightly, mumbling to no one in particular. "Its wounds are still present."
"What happened," her words finally caught his full attention.
His feathers ruffled. "Remember when you first came here a couple night ago I warned you about the Nightmarens."
"Yeah . . ."
"Well, NiGHTS, who you currently see sitting beneath that tree. The one to the left of that particularly swirly one," Owl paused, observing the jester twirling one of its flexible horns, "was in a serious fight with a top level Nightmaren and had received several wounds." He spoke softer, mostly to himself. "I fear it maybe more than physical, though. It has been in serious fights before; it is strange it is so lethargic."
"The Nightopians said something about a 'gazing pool.'"
"Whoo, gossiping 'pians! I told them not t-," he gathered himself. "The Gazing Pool is a place some distance from the Dream Gate in a region called Mirage Desert. It's the only place for some stretch with growth within that forsaken desert. The Mirage Desert is a dangerous place. One can get lost in old memories very easily, whoo, far too easily. And the Gazing Pool, whoo," he shuddered at the thought of the unfortunate to never wake, "seems inviting at first with its cool water with a mirror surface but you wouldn't want to relax by it or to drink its waters. Merely gazing across its surface can drive those not wary of its powers mad. The waters reflect parts of you depending on its mood," He gulped, earning a questioning look from the young girl for the change in his mannerisms. He started again, his voice much softer, "many visitors have gone mad in such a dreadful way." He turned to the girl, "I warn you. A visitor drinking its water means to never wake again."
"Parts of you?"
"It may reflect your darker desires or most ambitious dreams. It may use old memories you are fond of but have forgotten to seduce you into its deeper sleep or twist you with ones you never wanted to know you remembered or understood."
"What did it see?"
"I don't know. The fact it hasn't come to me worries me."
"Maybe it doesn't want you to know?" She floated up for a moment in an attempt to get a better look at the figure in the grass before settling down again. She pulled a face.
"Whoo, child, trying to work something out that has scared or hurt you by yourself is much harder, maybe even more dangerous. It is better to have another to support you. Even if it is something NiGHTS doesn't want me to know, I have begun to think of it as my charge and," he cleared his throat, "friend. Personally, I suspect it is very likely there are such things in its past but it should know by now it can trust me."
She tumbled around ideas about why he had emphasized "very." "It probably just don't want to hurt ya."
"Whoo, you know what I said."
She shifted in her seat. "Why does the Gazing Pool do that to people? Wait, NiGHTS doesn't look human. You've been talking what happens with 'visitors.' What happens to what NiGHTS is?"
Owl turned back towards her, "I'm not sure why the Gazing Pool makes this vindictive mischief. I don't think anyone really knows. It has a will of its own - in a sense." He paused, "as for NiGHTS . . . it would be easier to help if I knew what was troubling it." Owl suddenly ruffled his feathers, releasing a soft chirp. "Would you do me a favor?"
"What?"