Thanks to JinxGirl25, cheetha suno and wolfsbane, EbonyIvory, Myra the Sark, GlowBlade998, JimStar, Malica15 and person for reviewing!
Sorry for the wait, I'll try to get the next on updated on Sunday/Monday - but no promises!
Unexpected Encounters
He remembered running. His feet moved on their own accord, speeding through the white-and-blue blur that were his surroundings. Where was he running to - he didn't know, he just kept moving, as if unable to stop.
"Ready to go, kiddo?" a distant voice echoed, he paused, looking around wildly for the source. He had heard the voices a few times before, they were faint at first, barely a whisper in his mild, but grew louder with each call. He still couldn't tell where they were coming from. He gazed out, the white beneath his feet and the blue above his head, the two meeting with each other somewhere in the distance, suddenly became dotted with splotches of color – red, blue, beige, brown were only a few he could discern.
What were they? He squinted, trying to distinguish the images in the snow – because the white blur could only be the snow, and the blue one was the sky. The blotches sharpened gradually, though the image was still unclear. The dots in the snow, some small and some giant – people and Monsunos, he realized - were running around each other, fighting. He frowned, why were they fighting?
In that moment, sound decided to return to his world and he found himself running again, sprinting away. But there was nowhere to run to, everywhere around him friends battled foe with their Monsunos, defending their home – but, home wasn't safe anymore. They were fighting to keep home safe, and why wasn't he helping them?
Sky stopped in his tracks when the image abruptly became crystal clear, the sounds so shrill that his head throbbed. He clutched his head in his hands, doubling over – what was happening to him?
"MOVE!" it was that voice again, the one that he heard the most often – strong and safe and home – but this time it was panicked, afraid. Why was it afraid? Before he could ponder that question any further, a weight crashed into his side, sending him off balance and making him fall. He looked up, alarmed, from his new position in the snow, to see a familiar figure being flung away from him by a red beast – Monsuno.
The figure fell quite a distance away from him, and stayed there, unmoving. Sudden panic overflowed him and he desperately tried to get to his feet and get to the fallen man. There was a rumble, and then a roar, and the last he saw before he started awake was all-consuming white.
His eyes flew open as he jerked awake, the cool sweat still lingering on his forehead. He blinked as his vision adjusted to the light, the high ceiling above coming into focus. He propped himself with his elbows, trying to sit up and take in his surroundings – and where was he anyway? The world tilted dangerously then, and he plopped down on the mattress, still dizzy and let out a groan.
"Sky?" a voice called to the right of the bed, soft and feminine. There was a shuffle of feet and a rustle of fabric before a face came into his field of vision. "Sky? Can you hear me?" he groaned in response, unwilling to form a verbal response to the woman's questions – Ella, his mind supplied, her name is Ella.
A week passed since he woke up, and he was better now – still, better wasn't enough for Ella, and she kept him in the infirmary for a few days before sending him to his room, bedridden. Helen came by whenever she was able, every day and at all hours. She filled him in on everything he had missed since Bookman's first attack.
About the casualties, about the disperse of the remaining number of monks for fear of discovery, about Beyal – about why Beyal had left.
Beyal... he had liked that kid. Sky would always get a bit flustered around people, old or new, but the boy had had patience to see him out of his shell. Beyal was one he could count among the few that truly knew him. Now he was out in the world, fulfilling his destiny and helping the others into their own. He missed his company, his calm. Helen and Ella visited him the most frequently, and sometimes Master Ey would come around to see him when he wasn't too busy – but Helen was too moody and Ella just smothered him.
There were many things he missed now that he was awake, free of the oblivion sleep had provided him with. In his dreams, Trax was still smiling and joking and alive – and he kept to the hope that he still was, little as that hope may be. The avalanche had been fierce, sweeping both sides from the mounting like a tidal wave, many had drowned – but still, he kept that small glimmer of hope next to his heart. Those who had reemerged had gone to several hideouts, only a few in each, so there was a lesser chance of being discovered by Bookman.
He sighed, closing his eyes and trying to lose himself in happier times. The wind blew gently over the waves, guiding and distorting the surface. The ocean and the sky seemed to meet far in the distance – ocean and sky, one above and one below; ocean and sky, ocean and... "...Sky?"
His eyes snapped open, roaming the room in search of the person who had spoken – he found no one.
"Hello?" he called, brow furrowing in confusion. Had he just imagined it?
"Help... they'll be there soon... help... guide... please..." the voice pleaded, eerily familiar. Sky strained his ears to hear more. "Hello?" he called again, still trying to find the speaker "Who's there? What do you want?" there was no answer for a while.
"Please... Sky..." and with that, it was silent again. Sky called for it a couple of times, but it did not answer. Feeling uneasy, he drifted off to sleep hours later.
Ella rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, groaning. Who in their right mind was up this late at night? Stifling a yawn, she climbed out of bed. She knew she was most likely the only one who heard the knock on the front door of the temple, her room was positioned so just for that reason. She dressed as quickly as she could, not wanting to keep whoever was out there waiting. Perhaps some of the others had returned, though, she had a feeling it wasn't so. She'd find out soon enough, she decided. Only a few knew of this location, and Master Ey trusted them all, as such, she did as well.
She went down the stairs and to the front entrance, trying to look as presentable as she could in the early hours of predawn. Her hair was a bit tangled, but otherwise straight, and the darkness would hide the dark bags beneath her eyes. Without further hesitation, she opened the door.
It was late, Chase knew it was late, and yet he still insisted that they keep going. 'Just because he could sleep doesn't mean he should drag us out of our sleeping bags' Bren thought irritably. Okay, maybe he was being a little harsh. Chase was worried about Beyal and he wanted to get to the temple as soon as possible – still, why couldn't he have let them sleep for just a little while longer? Bren suppressed a sigh, compared to Jinja, Chase was tolerable. They were all on edge, Dax's betrayal still fresh on their hearts – they just wanted their friends back, their family – event just one of the two.
They reached the temple a few hours before sunrise, the night chill thick in the crisp, mountain air. They made it – finally! There three of them stood before the doors for a few minutes, panting and exhausted. Bren was ready to collapse, and he was pretty sure Chase and Jinja were too. After stretching sore muscles, Chase made for the door and knocked. There was no answer for a while and Bren began to think that the monks were indeed wiser than them just for staying in bed – but then a light flickered in the window just above the temple doors, signaling that someone had heard them and they could soon (finally) get some rest. Bren would have jumped in joy were he not so tired.
A few minutes later, the door cracked open, but Bren could see who was standing on the threshold because Chase was blocking the view. Chase made no move to go inside however, and he didn't even greet the person who had come to let them in. Bren frowned "Um, Chase, bud, aren't we gonna go inside?"
Chase didn't answer, did even register he was spoken to – all he could see was the woman standing in front of him, shock-still. He had dreamed about that auburn hair that cascaded down her back, the soft, lavender dress and bright emerald eyes that were so much like his own. In a choked whisper, he called:
"M-mom?" and hoped he wasn't dreaming.
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