~AN~ Hullo, all. Before I put up today's theory, I'd just like to address a reviewer or two…
First off, Yami, about the Jackle's Size issue…you have a picture proving it? Drat, I was hoping I could write that weird habit of his off to NID players' faulty memories…
*sigh* I have been told that Jackle can change his size. I don't know if this is true, or if he's just bigger than NiGHTS period, but in my stories he is not either. He's a wee bit shorter than NiGHTS and Reala, wiry build. No size changing.
(On a side note…you're going to play the game soon, right? Well, when you do, would you mind telling me which area you meet Jackle in? I've gotten three or four different answers to this, and it's beginning to get kind of strange…I'd be extremely grateful if you'd take the time to set that straight for me!)
To Nix: you addressed a grammatical problem in your last review, and I'd just like to clarify that a bit. You were referring, I trust, to the following line: 'Shrugging, he managed to slide the slight feeling of premonition into some back corner of his mind and look ahead to his day, the wonder of what would happen masking the fear of what had.'
Your pointer made me stop and reevaluate that sentence, but I don't believe a comma would be appropriate. The problem spot was 'the wonder of what would happen masking the fear of what had,' correct? 'Wonder' being the subject, 'masking' being the verb, and 'fear' being the object, the actual base of the sentence part is 'the wonder masked the fear'. 'Of what would happen' and 'of what had' are only descriptive parts joined with the subject and object; therefore a comma is not necessary in this sentence any more than it is necessary in the sentence 'John threw the ball'. ('John, threw the ball' being the respective version.)
That's what I believe, at least, but I'm not an expert---you may have a very good reason or grammar rule for your point, and I'd love to hear it! My mother's an English major, you see, and grammar tends to come up rather often in this household…I'm pleased any time I can improve my usage. Thanks for taking the time to point that out!
Oh, and as a note to Dusk…don't worry, I'll write more. Not that it would have any effect on this current story---the whole thing's already written! It takes me over half an hour to put up a chapter, you see, and that's why I'm taking my time about it. But the whole story will be up in due time, I promise. Hey, Som, say hi to Dusk.
Insomnia: Dusk?
Melon: Dusk?
*whaps Insomnia* Dusk the Wolf, you idiot.
Insomnia: *in confusion* Do I know him?
Melon: Dusk?
Her, you moron. Y'know, NightSky and all?
Insomnia: *brightening* Oh yeah!
Melon: Dusk is the night sky? I thought dusk was in the morning.
Figment: That's dawn.
Melon: Oh.
Insomnia: *waving frantically* Hiya Dusk! Watch this!! *dives into a bubble*
Muses: *stare at bubble* …
Bass: Where'd that come from?
RPG.
Bass: Oh.
Insomnia: *emerges dripping wet and ecstatic* Wasn't that a cool dive?!
AC: You're way too cheerful for this time of night.
Bass: And Avis is way too long-winded.
And what did I do to deserve that?
Bass: Started a conversation between your muses when you were supposed to put up the blasted theory already.
Oh yeah.
Nightmaren Theory Num. 4: Food. Enough said.
Do nightmaren need to eat? I personally can't imagine life without pizza…or tea. Are nightmaren allowed the enjoyment of a five-star banquet, or do they just float around absorbing moisture from the air and smelling the mints?
Insomnia: I'm hungry.
*gives him a cookie*
Muses: COOKIE!!
*groans, hands over cookie jar; tries to ignore flying crumbs* Ahem. So, do nightmaren really need to eat? If they do, what exactly do they eat, anyway?
Anyone looking at Puffy has probably already made a decision on this issue, obviously. But perhaps she was created that way. Just because some nightmaren are overweight doesn't mean they eat.
In the NID comics, NiGHTS' stomach growls, which would suggest he needs to eat. *shields head* Don't hit me, purists! I know the comics aren't always considered canon! It's just something to ponder, that's all.
Insomnia: COOKIE!
In my universe, nightmaren need to eat just as often as we humans do, although a liquid is not any different than a solid food. Reason? Allow me to explain.
Bass: No.
Insomnia: Cookie, YAY!
Food is made, gathered, etc. from things already present in the Dream World: plants, animals, yadda yap. My idea, currently, is that things not created by Wizeman---Dream World and all things natural being part of that category---are made of 'base energy'; a more neutral, solid kind of energy, as opposed to positive or negative.
In my universe, maren need to replenish their energy on a semi-regular basis. Energy is consumed by their bodies through activities such as flying, running, and fighting; it is also used for healing injuries. Where does the used-up energy go? Pay more attention in health class.
Nightmaren are made out of negative energy, and therefore it would sound more sensible that they, if refueling was even needed, would need negative energy. My theory for my maren, however, is that base energy is usable as an energy source. Their structure and being were made out of negative energy---criminy, I'm using that word a lot---but their body will consume any sort of energy for fuel. (In the third NID comic, Claris and Elliot sacrifice their Ideya to heal NiGHTS; therefore he can use positive energy to heal. *ducks under her computer desk* No tomatoes, purists, no tomatoes! Just letting you know how things are in the comics…that event may have happened in the game, but I wouldn't know.)
Ergo: In my universe, food is made out of base energy. Nightmaren, while created from negative energy, can use base energy as a fuel source, and they do; it comes in more edible sources such as plants and so forth, while no one would really want to eat a big glowing ball. Liquids are made of the same base as solids, so they aren't technically needed any more than food is, but they are enjoyed for refreshment, and so are just as common in the Dream World as they are in a school cafeteria. It's far more refreshing to take a drink of cold water after a practice flight than it is to eat stale crackers.
There, theory number four, explained, expounded, and expanded upon.
Bass: Outrageous, overlong, and not orthodox.
Insomnia: COOKIE! YAY!!
Disclaimer: "CRUD, that was a blasted long author's note!"---AC
You tossed a blanket from the bed,
You lay upon your back, and waited;
You dozed, and watched the night revealing
The thousand sordid images
Of which your soul was constituted;
They flickered against the ceiling…
His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block…eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling;
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hands across your mouth and laugh;
The worlds revolve…
Preludes, by T. S. Eliot
Chapter Seven:
Finding Their Way Into The Maze Of Destiny
"You." He gestured at a promising looking maren. "What do you study?"
"Me, sir?" The muscular boy blinked. "I'm a healer, sir."
"A healer?" Reala shook his head in disgust. "You're a fighter, boy. Look at your build. You need to be in the ranks, not in the Infirmary."
"Miss Stella says I'm a natural healer, sir."
"Miss Stella is wrong. You're in the Second Power Division now, understood?"
"Yes sir."
Gillwing stretched, wings reaching up until they nearly touched the ceiling. Puffy protested audibly as they invaded her space as well. "Hey! Do your morning exercises somewhere else, you hulking brute!"
Gillwing pulled his wings back to his sides. "Sorry."
"It's all right." She returned to her book.
The door opened silently and Clawz entered, heading straight for his red cushioned seat, as usual. His gait was different, however; he looked almost as if something had spooked him.
Gulpo slowly made his way to the surface of the water to ask, "What happened to you?"
"I have now decided that Jackle is most definitely insane," Clawz declared in response.
"Really?" Puffy looked up interestedly. "What happened?"
"I insulted him about his looks in the hall. And he laughed."
Puffy halted, forgetting to chide Clawz for his insensitivity in her surprise. "Laughed?"
"He laughed. And it wasn't a natural laugh, either, Puff. It was wrong."
"Wrong?"
"Strange, and jumpy. Like he couldn't control it, really." His voice lowered and he turned his head to look at the fire, eyes reflecting the dancing flames before him. "If you listened close, you could almost hear…more than one voice in it. Like there were many voices in his, laughing."
NiGHTS swung his legs, staring between his feet down at the gardens below. Perched on his balcony railing, swinging his feet and staring down, lost in thought, he strongly reminded AC of Jackle.
The crow landed on the railing and cawed. NiGHTS started and nearly fell off.
When he'd gotten his grip again, he glared at the crow. "What's wrong with you, bird? You nearly scared me out of my wits! Give people a warning before you screech in their ears!"
AC was used to temperamental maren; after all, he often resided with Jackle. He ignored the leader's indignant outburst and began preening calmly.
NiGHTS' annoyance gradually died out as he watched the crow groom himself, sleek black feathers reflecting what little sun broke through the clouds. It had been cloudy for so long---he wanted to see the sun.
'See the sun?' he questioned himself, surprised. 'I'm a nightmaren---I shouldn't be wanting to see the sun!'
But he did. He realized, focusing on his feelings, that he wanted to see the sun again. Not through little windows in the clouds, but in all its glory. Shining down on everything with warm, bright rays. "Maybe I should go to Stick Canyon…"
AC cawed. NiGHTS glanced at him. "What, you like Stick Canyon?"
The crow bobbed his head. NiGHTS blinked, startled. "I didn't just see that." The crow cocked his head to one side, looking incredulous. NiGHTS blinked again. "You acted like you could understand me!"
AC bobbed his head again. NiGHTS looked closer. "Is that just some sort of crow habit to jerk your head up and down, or are you actually trying to tell me 'yes'?"
Once more the crow nodded. The nightmaren smiled. "Okay, shake your head 'no'. Then I'll believe you."
AC complied. NiGHTS' violet eyes widened. "Whoa, you can actually understand me! You're smart!"
If AC had the capability, he probably would have rolled his eyes. As it was, he just gave NiGHTS an 'I told you' look.
NiGHTS smiled. "Well, what's your name? Wait, you can't tell me…drat. Do you even have a name?"
Nod.
"Okay…does anyone here know it?"
Nod.
"Is it one of the students?"
Shake. No.
"The teachers?"
Shake.
"A High Seeker?"
Emphatic nod.
"Really? I never knew one of them had a pet crow…well, is it Puffy?"
Violent shake.
"No way…not Reala!"
Very violent shake.
"Jackle?"
Violent nod.
"So you're Jackle's crow," mused NiGHTS. "Well, that's a surprise! I never knew…I'll have to ask him what your name is. So, you want to go to Stick Canyon?" AC nodded. "Okay, let's go and soak up some sun!"
Course decided, he took off, AC flying beside him. He grinned at the crow. "Hey, you're pretty fast."
This sparked a race of sorts, with both jumping over each other like dolphins in the air. AC was surprisingly agile for a crow; he kept up with NiGHTS easily enough to follow the leader's acrobatics like a small shadow.
A commotion down below caused NiGHTS to glance down. A large group of maren, at least fifteen strong, were moving through Mystic Forest; leading them was Clawz. Jackle was following behind.
NiGHTS rolled his eyes and continued flying. Those scouting missions were never a good thing to get drawn into, mainly because they were less of a mission and more of an outright verbal battle between Clawz and Jackle. He had no desire to get involved.
AC, however, banked sharply. NiGHTS pulled up and hovered. "Hey, where're you going?"
The crow circled about him, cawing quietly. "Oh, that's right---you're Jackle's. You want to go see him?"
AC tried to reply via their nod-shake method, but found it hard to do so while flying. He gave up and landed on NiGHTS' wrist, shaking his head.
"No?" NiGHTS was surprised. "Then what do you want to do? Why did you turn around?"
AC cawed as he hopped off NiGHTS' arm and began circling lazily, slowly moving eastward to follow the path of the scouting party. NiGHTS cocked his head, trying to understand. "You want to just watch from up above?"
AC dove to his wrist again and nodded violently, apparently relieved that his message had gotten through. NiGHTS shrugged. "Okay. But I don't know why…they won't do much, and they're big enough to take care of themselves. They don't need someone to keep an eye on their surroundings."
AC, about to take off again, halted to turn and give NiGHTS a knowing look.
'So you think,' he seemed to say.
Luna was complaining to Tessa. The sparring instructor had a bad habit of complaining; she would do whatever was asked of her, no matter how difficult, but she would be sure to let everyone know she wasn't happy about it. Currently she was complaining about the new system of fighting units.
"Everything was working just fine! I had a promising group of kids and a lot of new fighters, but does he leave well enough alone? No, he has to go and sort out everyone by what he thinks should be done, and that means I've got a lancer who falls over when she tries to carry the lance, a hand-to-hand fighter who hits like a jellyfish, and an archer who doesn't know that the bowstring doesn't always stay strung on the bow! How am I supposed to teach these kids to spar when they can't even figure out how to use their weapons?"
"You don't teach archery," pointed out Tessa calmly. "I do."
"No, but that boy was one of my best lancers. Now he can't even fend off a Gao with his weapon!"
"Joy." Tessa continued waxing her bowstring casually. "Now I've got a group of maren who are even more imbecilic than the last."
"Yes, I don't envy your position," replied Luna, rubbing hard on her beloved lance's blade. "But you still have PM, at least. And Heckler isn't too shabby with a bow."
"No, but he's the worst heckler in the world. I won't be able to say a sentence without him feeling as if he must insert some form of sarcasm."
"How on earth did he get that name, anyway? Fits perfectly."
"It was a nickname. No one even remembers his real one anymore."
"Well, as long as he responds to it. As much response as you can expect from Heckler, anyway. I'd like to just sic Reala on him for awhile, instead of watching the general go barging about changing everything around!" She polished her blade fiercely, taking out her frustrations upon it. It didn't seem to mind.
NiGHTS yawned and stretched, refreshed from his time spent lolling about in the sun. "It's late, crow. We followed the scouts all the way out and back, and we've been here for at least an hour or two---we'd better head home. I still have Ideya to collect."
AC cawed understandingly and took to the air, looking down at the violet-eyed nightmaren expectantly. NiGHTS laughed and rose after him, then laughed again as he caught an updraft of hot air which sent him spiraling upwards of its own accord. AC cawed and followed suit, spreading out his wings like a bird of prey to coast upwards after his new maren friend.
NiGHTS let the stream of warm air carry him up to its peak, at which point he leveled off and waited for AC to catch up. Then he grinned. "Let's do that again…"
They spent a good two hours just riding the winds of Stick Canyon, having fun.
"Ow!"
"Well it wouldn't sting so if yi'd hold still for a second!" scolded the woman, only slightly lessening the pressure she was applying to the bandage. The maren being treated slumped sulkily.
"Well you're pushing too hard!"
"You're movin' about too much," returned Stella. "Now hold still!"
"Miss Stella?"
"What is it, lad?" she asked, not looking up from her work.
The person peeking around the corner of the door straightened and entered, speaking in his usual polite manner. "Am I interrupting you?"
"Of course not! I'm only cleanin' up a bite wound on this agile young man." She chased the squirming boy's wound with her rag, trying to keep the cloth pressed in the same spot. "Hold still, lad! I can't heal yi' if yi' don't hold still! Now what was it yi' wanted, Strix?"
Strix bowed his head slightly, feet together in a posture of polite respect. "Reala has decided that I should be in the fighting ranks, not the Infirmary staff."
"What?" She took the hand of the boy being tended and pressed it against the bandage. "Hold that there, lad."
Emil did so, albeit very carefully. Stella turned to face her understudy. "Now what's all this about? You're leavin' me?"
"Yes ma'am. By Reala's orders."
"Reala's orders? He's takin' away my best student, the brute! Now who'll---keep that thing pressed on hard, lad!---who'll be my helper? Not Varia, that's for sure---I said, keep it pressed on hard!---she couldn't tell a leg bone from her nose…"
"She's a good archer," inserted Strix helpfully.
Stella, never one to merely chat when something could be accomplished, was sorting out bandages as she spoke. "Yes, you would stick up for your sister, wouldn't yi? She's a fine archer, no doubt about that, lad. But takin' away my finest student! What was the man thinking? I need Strix here, there's hardly enow healers as there is! Keep that thing pressed on HARD, boy! Can't believe this, now I'll have to work overtime to keep up with those sparring wounds---those teachers are loons, I tell yi, Stella! And all those scouting wounds, it'll be murder to try and keep up with---"
"You're speaking to yourself, Miss Stella," Strix reminded her.
"Ay, I am lad. But yi shouldn't grudge me my chatter, should yi now? I's only a bit of chatter, 'tis, though precious little it'll help me to mutter to miself, now that I'm losing my finest helper! Ach, yi'd think Reala'd have more sense'n that, takin' away a old healer's student!"
"Does she always talk to herself like this?" the wounded boy asked.
"Often enough," replied Strix.
Emil eyed Stella. "She's beginning to freak me out."
"Oh hush, lad," scolded Stella, now folding the bandages, her hands moving as quickly and gracefully as a bird, bearing witness to years of experience. "It's not proper t' tease yi're elders."
The door opened again. Strix stepped back as Jackle brushed by, heading straight for the medicine shelf. "That's the last time I let him lead us through Mystic Forest," he was muttering.
Strix bowed. "Lord Jackle."
Stella nodded as she worked. "Milaird, can I help yi?"
Jackle ignored her, shuffling quickly through the various jars and bottles on the shelf until he apparently found the one he wanted. He turned and left with it, still muttering. "A whole phalanx? Who in their right mind would take a whole phalanx of inexperienced kids out for a scouting mission? Scatter-brained mangy-furred cat, you don't take a whole phalanx of anything out for a scouting mission! Can't believe he…" His voice trailed off as he went on down the hall.
There was silence for a moment after he left; then the boy sitting on the table looked up at Strix. "Never mind her. Now I'm getting freaked out by him."
"Don't worry, Lord Jackle doesn't usually speak to himself that way." Strix glanced in the direction the High Seeker had left, his expression showing his underlying confusion.
"He's got plenty o' reason to, I'm sure," said Stella carelessly.
"How do you know?"
"That was a bottle o' willowpress he took, lad. It's a cure for headaches. Must be feelin' heavy-headed, I guess. Keep that pressed hard!"
"I am!" complained Emil. "But it hurts!"
"It'll hurt far worse if y'don't stop the bleedin'," chided Stella. "It's your fault the thing opened again anyway---I told yi' not to fly until t'morrow at least! Keep it on."
The boy muttered something to himself about 'cruel tyrants' and did as he was told. Stella focused back on her bandages. Strix leaned over to begin helping.
"What, don't yi have t' go and learn t' fight with an axe or somethin', lad?"
"Not until tomorrow. Reala said we would need a day to get everything straightened out before we started the new schedule."
"Oh, so there's a new schedule now?"
"Yes ma'am. There's to be more training in the morning and afternoon."
"More training?" She tsked, clicking her tongue against her teeth in a show of disapproval. "What, are yi suppost to give up yi're breakfast or somethin'?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Ach. That Reala, he's a slavedriver t' be sure. I should talk t' him one o' these days…"
"Do-you-have-anything-on-teaberry-medicinal-treatments?" asked a maren, rushing in.
Stella didn't even look up to see who was spitting out such a fast and rather odd request. "Nay, Vespers, I don't think I do…most of th' medical books're in the library, aren't they?"
"Yes-but-I-have-someone-who's-researching-teaberry-and-its-practical-uses-and-I-couldn't-find-anything-on-it-so-I-was-wondering---" Here the blue and white clad girl paused for a breath. "---if you had anything on it?"
"Not really, no," murmured Stella calmly. "Sorry."
"Oh that's okay but are you sure I'd hate to disappoint the girl looking for it…"
"I know y' would, Vespers, but I really don't have anythin' useful. Don't worry, they'll survive, whoever they are. Now why don't yi calm down a second or two? Otherwise yi'll be in here because of hyperventilation…"
"Don't-worry-I'm-fine-thanks," and she was out again.
Emil shook his head. "She needs to calm down."
"Ay, that's for sure," agreed Stella. "Vespers is too serious about her job as a librarian---she needs t' calm down a mite."
"More than a mite," murmured the boy.
"Isn't that the truth. Keep that thing pressed hard, lad."
Jackle collapsed onto his study chair, eyes closed, holding the willow balm against his temples. 'Ugh, feels like my head's been used for a soccer ball…'
Clawz was annoying you again?
He groaned quietly. 'Yeah, you could say that.'
Did you laugh at him?
'I tried ignoring him. That's what they say you're supposed to do, you know.'
What do they know? It didn't work, did it?
'Not at all. By the end of the mission I was ready to strangle him. And the feeling was mutual.'
You should have laughed at him, the voices chided gently. It worked this morning, didn't it?
'Yeah, you're right. I should have laughed at him.'
Try it next time. We promise it'll work, just like it did this morning.
'Okay.'
What else is on your mind?
His eyes opened briefly at their perceptiveness. 'You have this knack for seeing when I don't feel good,' he mentioned.
We're observant, aren't we? But tell us, what else is wrong?
'The secret,' he whispered desperately. 'The secret I can't tell!'
No one will know, soothed the voices. Just calm down.
He straightened up, trying to get his point across. "But I know a secret!"
He clapped his hands over his mouth, sinking down to look around worriedly. He hadn't meant to speak out loud... 'I know a secret,' he concluded.
And no one will know, replied the voices. No one will know.
Reala snorted, frustrated. It was already evening. The organization of the forces was taking far longer than he'd expected, and he still had the rest of the castle's workers to check on. Where was NiGHTS?
"Scatter-brained maren," he muttered to himself as he flipped through the treatise on military tactics for the Taming Age. He intended to bone up on fighting tactics as much as possible in his spare time. Along with the organization and subsequent wave of training that would go along with it, he was going to be very busy. Too busy, almost.
But who else would do it? Puffy hadn't moved from the Great Hall except to eat and sleep, she was so involved in her books and things there; Gulpo just floated in his lagoon or bowl depending upon where he wanted to be; Gillwing was hopelessly stupid; Jackle was wandering about who knew where and generally acting strange; and NiGHTS---NiGHTS was out gallivanting about, probably playing darts with himself or some equally pointless, foolish game. And these were the High Seekers?
He snorted again, flipping angrily through the weathered pages. "More like Hopeless Flops," he snarled. "Will I have to do everything around here? NiGHTS should at least have the consideration to help out! But no, he's out playing in the meadows, making daisy chains! In the name of Wizeman, how are we supposed to be an army if no one has any respect?"
He looked up, slamming the book shut in disgust and then muttering as he was momentarily blinded by the resulting wave of dust from its leaves. He growled and swatted at the surrounding cloud; then, he paused.
A mirror hung in front of him, its frame of black iron worked into writhing branches and dark leaves. The glass reflected darkly, and for a moment he caught a vision of himself, wreathed in cloud, black and red melding around a pale, monstrous face with a crooked mouth and icy eyes, golden claws flashing in a vicious slash. It was a vision from a nightmare.
It was at that moment that the reality really sank in. He was the general of the nightmare forces. He was the leader of nightmares. He had to be cruel, cold, terrifying. Then he would receive respect. Then their goal would be accomplished.
Then he would truly be perfect.
Night.
The winds blew moaningly through the corridors, rattling shutters, curling tapestries; they brushed across sleepers with icy fingers, making nightmaren shiver in their rest, some almost waking.
Upon the wall top, guards clutched their cloaks or coats tighter about them, blowing into their hands and stamping their feet or marching in small paces to try and keep warm. Above them the clouds skidded across the night sky, gathering in larger and larger clumps until they reached the center of the mass that had been growing over Nightmare Castle for days. The stars were shrouded in cloud, and the moon peeked through tiny openings to beam down on the wind-swept lands below.
In his room, Jackle shivered, clutching his mantle tighter about him. He hadn't taken it off when he went to bed. The familiar cloth brought some small measure of comfort, and he needed comfort tonight. The courage his victory against Clawz that morning had brought him had fled with the coming of night, and no matter how hard he tried he could not raise it up again. He felt frightened, as if the dark weather was a warning of things to come. His pulse was fast.
The wind blew through the shutters, banging them against the stone walls to flicker about his room, lifting papers, sliding pens, and curling into dying eddies in the corners. Clouds darkened the skies above, making the room fill with shivering shadows. Everything was cloaked in grey.
He wriggled deeper into the blankets, drawing them to his neck by fingers that were stiff with sudden cold. He was exhausted from going without sleep the night before. Closing his eyes, he tried to fall asleep. Why was it so cold?
NiGHTS waved from his window. "Goodbye, crow," he whispered.
AC cawed softly as he took off, circling for Jackle's balcony. NiGHTS watched him go, then turned back to his bed.
It was very late. He'd arrived back far later than he'd planned, having gotten caught up in playing on the wind with a certain friendly crow, and then he'd spent an hour or so playing hide-and-go seek, too, and then he had to run around gathering Ideya as fast as he could to come up with his standard par…he hadn't meant to stay out that late, honest.
He looked towards his door from habit---normally this was about the time he'd go and speak with Reala. But Reala was so cold and unfriendly these days, and he acted so busy all the time. NiGHTS winced. His brother probably wasn't too happy about his round of hooky, either. Perhaps it would be better to wait until morning. And he had to speak to Jackle about his crow, too.
He got into bed, some part of his mind murmuring in sorrow over the fact that his brother was so distant that he now had to wait for the right time to have a chat, instead of the "whenever you want to talk, I'll be there" approach they'd always had.
"Oh well," he sighed to the ceiling. "Tomorrow's things to do: have a nice talk with Reala, and ask Jackle about his pet crow."
NiGHTS didn't know, but he would not be able to do accomplish either one; the people he needed to speak to were already too far for him to reach. One was disappearing into the darkness of self-perfection, and the other was becoming lost within his own mind. Neither would come back to speak with him.
AC landed on the balcony railing, feeling disgusted with himself for staying out so long. Just because NiGHTS had been willing to play with him didn't mean he had the right to leave Jackle for the entire day!
It had been nice to play, though. Jackle had been so busy with himself lately that he never had time to play any more…he was so caught up in trying to figure himself out. Poor Jackle. Why had he left him for the entire day?
AC shook his feathered head, flapping down onto the floor to hop towards Jackle's bed. He shouldn't have been gone for so long. Jackle had probably had a rough day, and needed someone to talk to---and he wasn't there! Stupid crow, he chastised himself.
Of course he had kept his eye on Jackle from above; the rumors about a golem in the forest had made him sure to do that. If NiGHTS had not stayed with him he would have done that anyway. You couldn't be too careful with a golem…
Deep, heavy breathing told him Jackle was already asleep. He bounded up to the bedstead, trying not to make any noise as he looked down to inspect his charge.
Jackle lay on his side, several blankets piled about and over him as if he was very cold. Which was odd, as the room was fairly warm… Looking closer, AC could see a small bead of sweat glistening on his forehead. So why did he have all these blankets?
Perhaps it was merely a way to sooth himself. The demi-maren looked as if he had not been in a quiet state of mind when he fell asleep; he was in a huddled semi-circle, mouth open in deep breaths, and his face was not entirely calm with sleep. His eyes were closed tightly as if in fear.
Leaning closer, AC could hear his heavy breathing become interspersed with muttering. The demi-maren's mouth was forming silent words, fluctuating in and out of comprehensibility. The crow listened closely.
"Go 'way…" murmured Jackle, his breathing coming faster with every broken sentence. "Go…so---cold….too many voi….cold…it's a secret…I can't…tell…"
AC frowned in an avian way, disturbed by the broken thoughts. Something wasn't right.
He jumped to the headboard to be closer to his friend, clawing for a grip on the shiny surface. Finally he managed to balance, and a bit of shuffling back and forth revealed a nice clawhold on a certain leaf carving. He settled down, fluffing out in preparation for bed, and listened to his friend's feverish murmurings.
"…no, I can't tell!…It's a secret, a secret! A secret no one can know…"