Chapter Twelve: Dreams
Fire! Searing and sizzling, the red flames licked at her clothes and hair. Tia stumbled through the choking black smoke. To her dismay, she was completely disoriented. A few stumbling steps more and her head collided with something as hard as granite. Tia reached out for what had hit her. It was a shining full-length mirror, a pillar of ice in the midst of this blazing hell. Tia stared at her reflection dizzily. It almost appeared that her reflection was moving of its own accord. Perhaps the smoke was confusing her. Then she realized exactly where she and the fire were: inside of her own house. But that's impossible! her mind protested. Then she noticed something even more terrifying than her mysterious exit from the Ancient Cave.
Dirt and tears along with various mismatched pieces of armor rendered Tia's pink dress almost unrecognizable. However, the Tia in the mirror looked as fresh as a pink rose gracing a tall glass vase. Shame-faced, Tia touched her own disheveled hair. Firelight flickered behind her, eating away her old life. Tia in the mirror came closer, while her disheveled twin watched, enthralled. Slowly the flames crept closer, consuming all they touched. Around the mirror and the two Tia's, they parted, forming a circle with deadly boundaries. Tia in the mirror walked up to the very glass of the mirror and spread her hands as if she were parting a curtain. Alarmed, Tia took a step away. At once she was conscious of the roar of the flames behind her back.
With deliberate, almost stalking movements, the pristine reflection of Tia stepped forth from the mirror and into the circle of fire. Soundless, she glided towards her twin. Tia could only stare as her not quite reflection advanced on her. Tia from the mirror appeared just as she had within. However, in the flame-curtained room, her eyes glistened and shimmered like the facets of an exquisitely-crafted gem. What was more, each facet blazed with every color ever formed.
"You…" Tia stammered, her thoughts turning at once to her prized prism. "You're the other Tia!"
The girl's eyes flashed with contempt. She looked Tia up and down and snorted derisively. "How dare you?" she challenged Tia in a voice much different from Tia's own. "I see before me a battered warrior-wish-to-be, originally weepy shopkeeper. You reek like a goat, your hair needs combing – how dare you address me as if I were you, yourself?"
Tia's temper flared. "Well, you're little better than a capsule monster, dropping in whenever you please!" It felt odd yelling at herself.
"I am there to guide you when you need it," the other Tia retorted. "Without me, Dekar would have died. Perhaps all of you would have."
Before Tia could think on what her other self had imparted, the jewel Tia said, "There is a reason for our meeting. Soon it will fall to you to make the wishes upon the cup. Will you restore Selan, knowing she is your greatest rival for your love?"
Tia gasped. She had often pondered how it would be if Maxim, her childhood friend and first love, could return to life. Often she thought that simply his being alive would be enough for her. However, hearing her other self talk, Tia realized anew her other, more selfish reason for agreeing to enter the Ancient Cave. It was true that she had sought to cure her Wanderlust. Nevertheless…
It was as if her other self perceived her thoughts. "Think of it, Tia. After you restored Dekar to life, ah his kiss still burns your lips, I see. Well, it is only a matter of time before the blossom of his love flowers. So could it be with Maxim, only more powerfully intoxicating…for you would not need me to wish for his restoration."
Tia did not answer for a moment, entangled in the smooth, convincing words of the other Tia. Before she could lose herself entirely in temptation, a gravelly voice grated in her head. This cave recognizes the faint of heart. Be strong in your resolve, or the cave shall eat you alive!
"NO!" Tia cried out and broke free of her reverie. "You might be an adroit pretender, but you don't know my heart! You can never become me, no matter how you persevere! I am Tia, and you are the 'other Tia'! Why not reveal your true intentions now, 'other me'? You didn't care about Dekar at all! You just-"
The other Tia hissed low in her throat, much like an angry cat. "How do you know about that? If I am not privy to the whims of your heart, then how are you given divine sight to see what lies in mine?"
Before Tia could answer, her other self spread her hands wide. Tia gasped as the fire leapt higher, scorching her with its nearness. She reeled backwards only to step right into the mirror. The pillar of glass did not topple as she expected. Instead, the silvery surface parted as easily as water. When she tried to step out of the mirror, however, the surface was as hard as glass on her fingertips. The other Tia put her hands on her hips and smirked. Then she placed her finger on the mirror's smooth surface. Tia screamed as a crack ran straight down the center of the mirror in which she was trapped. Her world split, first in two, then into countless fragments.
{****}
M'hana leaned heavily on the Iris staff. She had completely lost track of how many years had passed as she toiled in the Ancient Cave, seeking the final Iris treasure, the one whose existence was disputed even in rumor and legend. No one had ever held that particular treasure in their hands, and thus, no one was certain of its existence. For this reason, it was doubly important that she find it. However, she had been finding white in her hair of late, which disturbed her greatly. Also her limbs weren't as agile as they used to be. More frequently, she had to stop to rest. "But I'll be damned if I'm going to give up now!" M'hana vowed, her voice croaky from disuse. Or perhaps old age… "Feh." She pushed that thought away as fast as she could. "I can't kick it now," she reminded herself sternly. "I still have to get the other two treasures that made it to the surface…that elf's ring…and the other one. No matter how far I have to go…I will be the greatest treasure hunter in the world!"
A sudden flash overhead sent the thief running for cover. Concealed in the shadows, she watched as a young woman with slightly green-tinted hair and a pink dress emerged from the flamboyant warp spell. M'hana's limbs went weak. She knew magi when she saw them. This one looked to be powerful beyond reckoning, even surpassing the arch mage she had fought while still with the elf and his warrior companion.
"M'hana, self-named treasure hunter!" the woman's voice boomed. Sweat beaded on M'hana's forehead. She slowly moved out of the shadows, one hand on her daggers.
"That really won't be necessary," the woman in pink chided her. The dagger worked its way loose of the thief's sweaty grasp and floated mockingly to where the mage stood. "I must say, you're losing your touch."
"Feh," M'hana snorted. "I'm almost through with my quest! Why, I bet with the next treasure chest I find, I'll be done with it. Then I just have to go up to the surface to find the last two that escaped. After being in this cave for all these years, the outside world will look like child's play."
"Really?" the pink-clad mage inquired, a hint of scorn in her voice. "I should like to accompany you, if I may. I am curious to see if what you say is true."
I'll show her a thing or two, M'hana thought to herself. That presumptuous young thing; who's she think she is, anyways? Strutting around this dungeon dressed for a fair. Feh.
The two women passed through two rooms without saying a word. Then they reached a small room in which blood red treasure chests lined every walls, leaving barely enough room to walk. M'hana smirked, certain of her triumph. "It should be hidden in one of these chests," she said to the woman in pink. "I don't think I've ever seen so many treasure chests gathered in the same place," M'hana remarked to herself out loud, as had become her habit. A quick count revealed that the room held twenty treasure chests glistening with crimson and gold. The woman in pink smiled, a self-satisfied smirk that annoyed M'hana. The thief quickly began to throw open the lids. Her shoulders burned from the effort. When she had completed the first row of five, the thief made her way back along the narrow passage to see what was inside of the chests. She gasped. Meanwhile, the woman in pink looked on, a look of confusion on her face. Enraged, M'hana grabbed the woman's frilly collar and jerked her so that she thudded into the treasure chests. "What trickery are you playing at, mage?" she snarled.
The woman in pink laughed in M'hana's face. "There is no trickery, M'hana." As the woman spoke the thief's name, M'hana felt a chill skittering up her spine. "You do not have the strength to hurl me across the room as you wish to, do you?"
"Don't change the subject!" M'hana pressed her dagger against the woman's throat. The thief's violence did not seem to disturb her, however. "Where are the treasures?" she demanded, gesturing furiously at the empty chests.
"Unhand me," the woman commanded. "Or you will never find out."
Reluctantly M'hana unclenched her grip on the woman's collar.
"That's better," she said, straightening the white lace primly. "Now I will tell you what you wish to know. Your search for the final treasure is futile."
"What?" M'hana growled. "How?"
"Behold!" A shield appeared in the mysterious mage's hands. She held it up so that M'hana could see the reflection of her face in its icy depths. "You feel it every day, do you not? Your life coursing out with your every breath? Your time is fast approaching, thief." She lowered the shield and laughed behind her slender white hand. "You already have both feet in the grave, do you realize that?"
"Enough of your wit," M'hana snapped. She snatched the shield, finding it surprisingly heavy. "Say what you came to and begone!"
"Do not deny the truth," the woman warned. "I know that the question haunts you…every night you ask yourself how much time has passed…and every morning you reassure yourself that you will find the last treasure today. I warn you, M'hana. The treasure you seek is beyond even your greed."
M'hana squinted at the shield, only partly listening to the younger woman. Why, she wondered, can't I see myself in this shield? Are my eyes that far gone?
"I have hidden the reflection from you," the woman said.
M'hana started and dropped the shield. It crashed atop the lids of the unopened treasure chests. "You can hear thoughts?" she whispered.
"And many other things…" the woman said, closing her eyes. "I hear your heart slowing… You lack the strength to reach the final treasure, M'hana. It will never be yours."
"I have no need of strength!" M'hana scoffed. "Only stealth!"
"Have you not considered that it takes strength to cross these dungeon floors?" the woman pointed out.
Shivering overtook M'hana, making her teeth rattle inside of her head like rolling dice. It was true that her travels in the cave had become more strenuous and difficult. She no longer considered fighting anymore, only escaping the ever-present hordes of monsters. At the end of the day, it was a profound relief to rest, to soothe the fires in her lungs. Every morning she felt like she was rising from the dead, a mutilated corpse that had lost the elasticity of its muscles and flesh.
"Look now and see the cruel cards Time has dealt you," the woman said.
Helpless, M'hana could only do as she said. She looked into the icy depths of the shield. Staring back at her were the eyes of a frightened old hag. M'hana gasped; the hag gasped. M'hana reeled away, unable to look at the sagging skin, the wrinkles, the thinning white hair, the narrow eyes drained of all luster, the rickety fingers that she had raised to her thin lips. A scream broke from her throat, and then she was falling, falling, falling…
{****}
As was common in the strange
logic of dreams, Artea found himself standing in the last place he would have
chosen to go: Eserikto. After his
undertaking in the Ancient Cave,
the elves were no longer his people.
Many had shunned him as early as when he had commenced his
research. Artea did not hold it against
them; though long-lived, the elves were stubborn. Nonetheless, it was eerie to be standing in
the middle of his elven village, knowing his current status with them. Suddenly he wondered how he had gotten there
and how his adventure into the Ancient
Cave had fared. Then he noticed the sinister quiet that hung
over Eserikto. Not a single light shone
in the elven houses. It was as if all life
had been extinguished. Artea shivered
and took a few hesitant steps forward.
He had the strange sensation that he could not go backwards, no matter
what his wishes. Even his footfalls
could not break the stillness. The
silence wrapped around the elf like a hand on his shoulder that he could not
shrug off.
He finally decided to enter one of the houses, though he could not think of why he wished to. Knowing that this was a dream made the fact a little easier to accept. He did not even need to open the door. He passed through the wall as soundlessly as a ghost. Inside, all was dark and still. The furniture gleamed, and the floor had been swept. Yet somehow, the room's very appearance did not look right. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he would slide right through the furniture if he attempted to touch it. Perhaps not.
The elf felt drawn to the bedroom. He obeyed the mysterious calling, wondering all the while if some portent was latent in this very peculiar dream. In the center of the bedroom, more real-looking than the rest of the village, stood a mirror. Its surface was unbroken ice, silver and gleaming with motionless emptiness. Yet Artea felt it pulling him as surely as he had been pulled into this very house. He came closer. In the tall rectangle of dark glass, he cast no reflection, so he stared into the nothingness, seeking something, any flicker of movement. Suddenly he caught a glimpse of a blue-haired young woman clad in rose pink. Her eyes were wide with fear. Looking closer, Artea noticed raging flames behind her. She did not seem to see him. Artea put his hand on the surface of the mirror. A shockwave ripped through the glass, making the silvered surface rise and crest like a water wave. Artea gasped and stepped away just in time. The mirror exploded into fire-edged star fragments with Tia still in it. The elf threw up his hands to protect his eyes. However, one large piece tore deep into his cheek before shattering again on the floor. Warm blood trickled down his wrists. Artea reeled away from the mirror and looked at the blood in disbelief. Tia…what was she doing in that mirror? the elf wondered frantically. He raced outside of the empty house filled with the need to find Tia in the dream world.
However, a new sight greeted him outside. Elves, all in the village it seemed, had gathered outside of the. Their eyes glinted like the fire in the mirror. Normally a people who would not raise a hand to any living creature, they were armed, every last one of them, even the children. Artea started. "What is the meaning of this?" the elf asked. His kin gave him no answer. Artea backed into the house. I cannot fight them! he knew. They are my people! Yet from the grim look of them, they were bent on his doom. Artea watched in horror as their silent ranks closed in on them. In unison, the elves raised their weapons…
{****}
Artea awoke gasping. The ward wrought of his blue elven fire seared his eyes, bringing tears to them. Blinking furiously, he sat up. What had awakened him with such a horrendous jolt? Suddenly his cheek began to sting. Artea flinched as he touched the cut. He had not incurred it in battle, of that he was certain. When he took his hand away, red stained it. Then the elf remembered his dream, of armed elves and a mirror that would not show his reflection, only Tia's. This cut is from the mirror when it broke, Artea remembered at last. That something from the dream had carried over into the waking world was disturbing to say the very least. Nonetheless, the elf's cut did not bother him nearly so much as Tia's appearance in his dream. The mirror she was in shattered. What happened to her? Artea wondered if she was the one who had fallen. The prospect worried him. Before the elf could think further on the matter, M'hana was at his side.
"Elf…" M'hana said. "Do you have a mirror handy?"
"No," Artea replied. His skin pebbled as he remembered the enormous pane of glass in which Tia had been trapped. Then he wondered why M'hana wanted to inspect her rather homely reflection in the middle of the night. However, it was not in his nature to inquire after others, particularly thieves, so he said nothing further about the matter.
"Damn," M'hana said. She slinked to Guy's side and deftly slid his shield away from his pack.
"You better give that back when you're done with it," Artea admonished her.
M'hana rolled her eyes. "Really, Elf," she said. "This is much too large of an item to hide. Besides-" The thief yawned, not bothering to cover her mouth. "I only want it for its reflection."
Artea watched the thief for another minute before pondering the dream again. He had no way to prove that Tia had perished. However, his intuition screamed that a dream that could inflict injuries might have at least a measure of truth to it.
"Oh gods! Oh gods!" M'hana whispered incessantly. She dropped the heavy shield with a clang.
Guy moaned in his sleep and rolled over.
"Be silent!" Artea hissed at her. "Do you want to bring every monster in the dungeon upon us?" The thief did not answer. Artea at last looked up. He gasped at the sight of the thief. Crows' feet formed webs next to her eyes. Her cheeks sagged, and deep furrows lined her forehead. "This can't be happening!" M'hana murmured in her normal voice. She did not sound as if she had aged. The thief pulled off the cook pot that served as her helmet. Unmistakable white pieces of hair stood out among the rest of her greasy curls like frost. "That woman didn't lie," M'hana muttered. She began to jerk out the white hairs one by one. Artea began to feel a little sick just watching her. Finally he decided to take the initiative, if for no other reason, to stop her before she went completely bald. Not that it would matter since the cook pot would cover her bald spots.
"Did you have a very strange dream just now?" Artea asked M'hana.
M'hana started. "Ow, dammit!" She blew the stray hair off of her fingers. "Sure did. Good gods!" she gasped when she caught sight of Artea's face. "Maybe you should look into this shield. You've got-"
"I know. A long cut on my face, right?" The elf pointed to his cut. To his dismay, the bleeding still had not stopped.
"Exactly. This is weird, you know? I dreamed that I became an old hag," the thief prattled on. "But I don't feel any older. What was your dream?"
"I dreamed that I went back to Eserikto…my home. It was deserted. Then I went into a house. I felt drawn to a giant mirror in there. It was strange because I did not cast a reflection in it. The mirror exploded, and I got this cut." Artea spoke with slow detachment, trying to remember anything that might make this strange occurrence make more sense.
"There doesn't seem to be any connection between the dreams, except for our little souvenir from it," M'hana observed.
Artea said nothing. Though he longed to rush recklessly to the bottommost floor, to do anything to hasten tidings of Tia, a hasty decision this late in the game might well get him and Guy killed. There was little he could do besides wait. All the while, a gnawing dread grew inside of him.
{****}
Tia awoke with a cry. For a moment she did not know where she was. Slowly she looked around. A massive platform rose from the center of the room. She estimated there must have been one hundred steps before the top of it. Dekar slept some distance away from her. His face was peaceful in repose. Lexis, too, had fallen asleep, hunched over his precious notes. Tia opened her tight fist. The rainbow jewel was shining once more with all of its former beauty. A chill skittered down Tia's back. The jewel, with its many lovely facets, reminded her of her dream, in which the other Tia's eyes had glittered with similar multihued beauty. Tia sighed and rubbed at her eyes. Pain snapped her to alertness, and her heart skipped a beat. My face…it hurts! Gingerly Tia touched her face again. The flesh was tender, as if she had spent too much time in the sun. Impossible, her rationale argued. I haven't been in the sun! Then she remembered her dream. Fire, so hot that its flames were white in places. That could account for her injuries. Yet…how could a dream burn me? Suddenly Tia was afraid. The jewel winked at her as if to mock her with its beauty. Irrationally, Tia knew that the other Tia, the one from the dream, was responsible for the burns. The other Tia was angry at me in the dream… I wonder what else she is going to do to me…
Though Tia feared to go to sleep, for the next few days, no dreams came. She kept busy with analyzing the dream over and over in her mind and watching the stairs for Artea and Guy, who, according to Lexis, were due to arrive any day. Lexis continued to pore over his notes and maps, scribbling more notes and muttering to himself. Occasionally he would flip through the whole tome, as if impressed with all the material he had generated for future studying. Dekar passed the time in uncharacteristic silence. Tia supposed that his wound was bothering him. Or perhaps he was pondering his near-death experience. She could tell that he wasn't in the mood to talk about it, however. When he wasn't contemplating life and death, Dekar would feed Flash various bits of equipment the party had no intention of using. The capsule monster had taken to him so much that he would pop out of his capsule unbidden and beg the warrior to feed him. The little fellow seemed to have an insatiable appetite, though he never grew fatter. Tia was the capsule's second favorite person, as she was always ready to cradle the warm ball of curly blue hair and rest her head atop his. Flash made a good pillow for midday thinking. In addition, his contented chittering was a soothing lullaby when Tia couldn't quiet her thoughts at night. She began to wonder if Dekar's kiss had been a strange part of her disturbing dream, as the warrior did not speak again of death, nor did he try to kiss her again.
Neither the scientist, nor the warrior mentioned the burns on her face. She wasn't certain if they had not noticed, or if they simply feared antagonizing her. In all, it was an unpleasant feeling to be unapproachable. Though she had been uncomfortable as the weak member of the group, Tia disliked being regarded as powerful and dangerous. It made for lonely hours she spent wishing she could talk to Dekar and Lexis without their being suspicious.
One night, when it seemed that they would rot before meeting Artea and Guy again, Tia glimpsed a hulking shape in the stairwell. Her pulse quickened. Instinctively she cast the light spell. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the rainbow gem flash. Could it be the other Tia? Is she going to ambush us? Then she remembered that the other Tia needed her body to come through to the waking realm. Then she saw how broad the creature was and how tall it stood. From the staff it carried, she gathered that it was a mage. Whispered words of enchantment sang in her ears like the soft hissing of snakes. Blood drained from Tia's face. "Lexis! Dekar!" she shouted. "Wake up! We're under attack!"