Hello everyone. It is now time for the author to get in touch with the Raistlin within… (coughcoughcough hackhack wheeze…hackhackcouch…blegh…cough) There's a cough floating around the school, and I do believe I caught it. So imagine me at the computer typing quietly as I can because it is now who knows what time, and I'm here coughing uncontrollably at random trying to be quiet. It's funny. This chapter was a pain to write why? Because it was! But I wrote it out, in mad panic, just for you guys. (well, mainly cause I'm going to go see Blind Guardian today {yaaaay!} and I won't be able to write, but also you guys!) No, I did not know there was a place called Imare', but that's cool ^-^*
Note: Memories or past visions are in italics, but dreams and current visions are not. Wheeee! (coughcoughhack)
Enjoy the last chapter of the beginning of the has-turned-into-a-novel fic Hourglass!
"So tell me Thomas," River inquired, reclining against the sunny courtyard steps, "what was so important that we all had to meet right this moment?"
"I don't know, really," Thomas paced in front of the small gathering of companions, "I'm not so sure I believe it myself but…well, I was going to have Rheas explain it when he and Cameron got here but they're not answering their phone……" That had to have been the worst tactic to take, as he had already lost half his audience. Sure, Rheas was viewed as downright insane, but usually his judgement was just as keen, if not better, than anybody else's -once you got through the layers upon layers of nonsense, that is. But then again, most of that 'nonsense' seemed to be coming up and slapping Thomas into reality, or another version of it.
Switch tactics.
"Okay, well…A few nights ago, all of you had a dream in which you were someone else, being offered a bargain that involved, oh I don't know, saving the world, I presume?" All eyes widened in surprise, except for Toby, who grinned happily and nodded. Thomas continued, "And you all went to take the offer, didn't you? Well, I assume we didn't all slip up at the last moment just because Toby and I did. Did…anyone make the bargain?"
"The ground shattered beneath me before I could take the offered hand." Goldie replied, shaking her head. The others nodded in agreement.
"Do you all see where I'm going though? Whatever happened, it was real. We each had the same dream, we saw each other there. Because we were there."
Heavy silence spread itself out over the group, each unsure how to respond to Thomas' ridiculous notion. Frank finally cleared his throat, chasing away the heavy quiet.
"It's not that we don't believe you Thom, it's just……are you on drugs?"
"You know me better than that, Frank." Thomas snapped.
"I do, but I also didn't think you were one to get dragged into one of Rheas' ludicrous ideas."
"It's not ludicrous!" Toby cried angrily, jumping to his feet, "Rheas and I have seen the magic! And we know that--!"
"Quiet," Thomas sighed, covering the freshman's mouth and holding his fidgeting form. "All I know," he continued, gazing at his friends, "is that what we dreamt was no overactive imagination or something brought on by food poisoning."
"So you believe we are chosen ones who must save the world?" Sam inquired doubtfully.
"No, I don't. But I do know that happened was not normal, and needs looking into."
Toby wrestled one arm free and pulled Thomas' hand away from his mouth. "Look!" he declared, pulling the wood chunk out of his vest pocket, "This has an ancient inscription that me and Rheas translated! It's directions to something, and it says to…mmph!" Thomas clapped his hand back over the smaller boy's mouth.
"C'mon guys," Thomas smiled, twisting Toby into a headlock, "we're always saying we should do one last thing all together before we split, so what's wrong with a little camping trip to the rainforest? We've got nothing to lose. We go and have fun, and if Toby and Rheas want to go tromping off on some wild goose chase, let them. I sure don't have anything to do for the rest of the week, and I doubt you all do too. Face facts, no matter what we do, we pretty much don't have a life."
Laura looked about the group nervously, then quipped, "Sounds fun. I think it's a good idea. If we happen to stumble across something…"
"But what if we get in over our heads? If this is all real, I mean, it could be dangerous." Tina suggested.
"If there's any real danger in this, it's going to find us anyway." Frank sighed, shifting his feet about.
"I don't care, I'm going with Thom on this." Laura stated firmly.
"Because," Gary said dramatically in falsetto, "I'll follow Thomas to the ends of the Earth!" His sister pushed him over violently.
"I mean camping!" she snapped.
"Sure. But do you really think our dear brother Patrick is going to let you go off to the woods alone with him?" Gary smirked from the ground.
"Are you?" she asked crossly.
"Of course not," he shrugged, "that's why I'm coming."
"That's two," Thomas sighed, loosening his hold on Toby.
"Count us in." Goldie smiled, her arms around River playfully.
"Me too." Tina called.
"Frank?" Thomas questioned, shifting Toby before letting him go altogether.
"Yeah yeah, just to make sure you kids don't get into trouble…"
"Sam?"
The junior folded his arms in uncertainty; one hand straying over the stubble that had begun to grow in thought. "I'll think about it," he said heavily.
"Think about it? But we need to all go together and--!" Toby began, bouncing up and down when a high pitched ring interrupted him. Thomas grabbed his cell phone and turned away from the group as they began to banter with Sam over his coming.
"Yeah, what is it? Cameron! I've been calling you for the past…what's that?"
The companions fell silent and gathered around Thomas, straining to hear Cameron on the other end with no success. Thomas shooed them away, but they ignored him.
"You're kidding……holy shit…I know but…is he all right?"
Toby looked up in interest, yet a serious expression fell over his happy features.
"I'll be there as soon as I can……I don't care, I'm coming. No, Cam…Right, alright." Thomas clicked off the phone and shook his head. "Man…" he whispered.
"What is it?" Sam asked, instantly recognizing the look in Thomas' eyes.
"It's Rheas he…um…" the senior paused and looked down at Toby, "had an accident."
"What kind of accident?" Toby said slowly.
Thomas stepped out of the ring of teens that had surrounded him. "I'm heading to the hospital to check on Cam, he didn't sound so good. I'll catch you guys later."
"We're coming too." Frank stated. He picked up his bag and marched back towards the car, the others began to follow. A shepherd herding his sheep.
"What kind of accident?" Toby stressed, following at Thomas' heels.
"Sam, you coming?" Thomas called over his shoulder as he made his way to his jeep.
"Yeah, I'll catch up."
"Thomas!" Toby shrieked, latching onto his leg like a child. "What kind of accident!?"
Thomas gazed down at the younger boy sadly. As annoying as he might be, it was always reassuring for Thomas to know that the bundle of positive energy was always somewhere. It struck him now that it was probably a good thing Toby hung around Rheas so much. He was sure the two rubbed off on each other. But now, looking into the freshman's eyes, he saw something there he never recalled seeing; fear. Thomas bit his lower lip.
"Sudden cardiac arrest." he said softly, shaking the shorter boy off his leg. Toby's eyes widened, and that spark of fear burst into flame. Thomas knew why, he remembered…
"He's okay though, right!?"
"Yeah, Cameron said he'd be fine."
"Really?"
"Really. Come on, get in the jeep. I'm sure your sister would understand your running off in a situation like this."
Toby nodded and followed Thomas. Sam watched them go before turning back for his own bag. Kneeling, he hefted it up over his shoulders and began to stand. He then noticed how quiet it was and looked around, unaware of the hairs rising at the back of his neck. The seagulls were gone without a trace, so were the blackbirds, all except one. It perched on a metal rail leading up the stairs silently, its head tilting quirkily as though in wait. Looking at it closely, Sam saw it was not a blackbird, but a raven.
"Weird," he muttered. He was about to turn to leave when the raven leapt from its perch and glided toward him. He didn't know why, but he could only stand there and stare as the bird flew by. The world seemed smudged, slow, as though time stopped for this bird and this bird alone. It flew by so close its wing tips seemed to almost brush his cheek. Its feathers were not glossy, nor dusty, but a deep black that seemed to absorb all light. He heard its wings flutter behind him, and time started again.
He whirled around, but saw no bird. What he saw instead made him start, nearly jumping back.
An enormous black stallion stood before him, covered in full plate armor that shone brilliant like starlight. The chanfron and crinet seemed dull silver underneath an invisible lining of darkness that covered the horse down from the chanfron to the crupper. The great stallion breathed heavily, sweat matting its midnight coat, yet it pawed at the ground relentlessly as though pleading to run through battle again. Sam stared in disbelief, stepping back. He looked up to face the rider.
He too wore full plate armor, but of a dark black that he seemed a door to another dimension, taking in the light and forbidding its return. Black feathers adorned him, tied sparingly about his gauntlets and belt. A great black cape billowed behind him in a strong wind that suddenly picked up. He held a lance over fourteen feet in length, its butt resting in the stirrup so it stood upright, and a medium shield that shone like a black mirror, reflecting all light ten fold, attached to his left arm. Both knight and stallion were splattered with old blood, caked and flaking away, but it was not theirs.
"What the…who…?" Sam stuttered, then caught himself. Whatever trick this was, it was well done.
Aliandede' ah yeshai mi, Au Kur, a voice rang up through Sam's bones, making him shiver. It was not painful, but had caught him off guard. Telepathy, perhaps? He shook his head, a very well done trick.
"Okay," he sighed, "who are you? Ah, I know. You almost had me there Rheas, or are you Cameron? Is everyone involved? The horse is a nice touch, must have cost a lot for a mere prank."
The knight was laughing. It was light, yet strangely deep and haunting. Androgynous in its own right, yet slightly feminine. Releasing the lance, it held there as if by its own power, and he reached up and pulled off his helm.
Long hair, dampened with sweat, tumbled free and blew in the wind as steel eyes were unmasked and burned into Sam's own. As you can see, I am neither Chetisshar or Hayashar. The young rider, as Sam could see now he was very young, about his age, was not speaking, yet Sam heard the words still.
"I…know you…" he gasped, stepping back from the knight and his mount, "yet…who are you!?" Sam demanded, straightening up against this crazy boy.
I am he who was here before you and shall forever be here after you.
"How do you mean? What are you? Are you human?" The mockery in the last question was far more apparent than Sam had meant, but the knight merely smiled sadly and shook his head. Oddly enough, he spoke.
"I am, I was. I searched for a higher knowledge and power that would allow me escape from the station I had been handed in life, but when I had that power, I realized I had fallen more than I had risen."
"My apologies. That still does not clear up who you are, however. A name would suffice." Sam responded. Despite the fact he was facing a knight who wielded a lance and at least had some form of power in strong ventriloquism, he would never cower. Become wisely polite, yes, cower, no.
"I have many names, and I have none." the knight replied evenly, as though something as trifle as a name did not concern him.
"Then give me one."
The knight's steel eyes flashed to a near silver, and then he shrugged. His mount pawed the earth.
"I was once called Manannan Mac Lir. You may call me such."
"Very well, Manannan, but I still don't understand…"
"Quiet, I am limited in time as you are, Kur, and I have much to do. I have words you must hear. Heed them or do not, as I can merely open doors for you.
"The darkness descends upon you, and one by one you all begin to see it. Yet most of you ignore it. Why?"
"It's a new disease, nothing more. If there is an oncoming apocalypse, what can we do to stop it? This is reality, and that sort of thing doesn't happen." Sam explained wearily.
"Then how do you explain my coming? And what of your comrade's increasing insanity?"
"Rheas? Cameron threw him down the stairs when they were little. He's been messed ever since. And I don't know what to make of you, Mac Lir."
"Your friends will go, and they will try to find the key to Dachanere'. All of you must go, else I wouldn't have summoned you together in your dreams."
"That was you?" Sam said quietly.
Manannan continued, "I give you warning Au Kur, your friends will go and seek their treasure, but without you there, they shall perish." He paused, tilting his head lazily and pointing a menacing finger towards the young man. "Will you have the blood of their lives on your hands? Do you feel so prepared for your old burdens that you do not need their strength to help you shoulder it? Don't be a fool! Together you may stand a chance, but alone? Try it."
Eyes narrowed, Sam looked away from the rider and his monstrous mount and sighed. "You leave me no choice…"
"You always have a choice, it may just be the unwise ones."
"…Would they truly die?"
"When one thread of the tapestry comes loose, it's only a matter of time before the others follow," Mac Lir said softly, "I give you these warnings as I know what your friends mean to you, and there may be a risk."
"Then I won't risk it. What dangers do we face? I'm not afraid."
"You are not, now. But you will be, the dangers ahead are far more threatening than anything you have ever faced…in this life. Awaken your soul, reclaim your valor."
"How do I do that?"
Manannan smiled crookedly. "Listen, listen carefully. Perhaps even to a certain psychotic boy you know, he sees them all too well. But even they may be your enemies, those close to you. Accept my gift to you, and fight well." The knight placed his hands together, fingers intertwining, then drew them apart again, slowly. In his hands lay an ancient sword in its sheath, old, but strong and well forged.
Manannan held the weapon up. "Do you remember this? It was yours, and shall be again, as it always has. Do not break, Au Kur, and it shall never as well." A sudden boyish look in his grey eyes, and he smiled. "Catch."
He tossed the weapon, and Sam lurched forward and caught it, nearly stumbling. It was very heavy. Manannan placed on his helm, and spoke again not a word.
You have grown of this world, will you now fight for it?
"Yes," said a voice, and Sam realized it was his own. Manannan laughed again, gripping the lance and lowering it.
Hyae! Swiftly, Enbarr, we must return! he cried to his steed. The stallion, Enbarr, came to life again and reared.
Akeu, Au Kur de Ka vur Selaa minishitarenen! The voice of the knight seemed far, and the sunlight shone off the shield so brightly all of the sudden, that Sam had to look away, covering his eyes. The wind picked up even more, nearly knocking him over in a sudden rush, and then the air was still. He looked up and saw no horse or knight, only the blackbirds and seagulls landing in the courtyard.
Manannan Mac Lir was gone.
Sam shook his head and rubbed his eyes. There was no one there, there had never been.
"I'm as crazed as Rheas…" he muttered.
But the sword.
It was still there, and just as real as the seagulls that pecked away at the dried flakes of blood.
He walked through the forest, long fingers dragging lightly over the sword ferns that seemed to part for him as he passed. It was autumn again, the rust-colored leaves falling from the maple trees like steady rain. Evergreens that surrounded him on all sides darkened the earth underneath him with their large branches. Through these, he kept walking.
The earth dipped below him into a shallow valley in which a muddy stream coursed its way through. Trees had fallen, allowing several naturally made bridges over the muck. He crossed these and pulled himself up the hill. At the top, the evergreens closed thickly about him again, wet and sweet smelling. He walked on for quite some time.
The trees ended abruptly, the ghostly white sky opening up to him as he stepped into the open field. The pale wild grass grew midway up his thighs and surrounded him like wheat, enveloping him in its golden embrace that he did not shy from. He passed under the large branches of the sentinel cedars and firs once more, and then the world lightened and he had entered the grove of old aspens he knew all too well. The wind whispered through them, shaking the golden leaves until they shimmered his name, but still he did not stop. He had crossed the property line long ago, yet whoever owned this land seemed uninterested in it and let nature care for its own. No one had ever objected Rheas' coming.
He walked until the aspens thinned out and then disappeared entirely, leaving only tall reeds and mud that squelched under his boots with every step. Frogs and snakes dodged out of his path, but he was not interested in them today. He would never be again. That was the plan, anyway.
Water sloshed over his boots as he stepped into the pond, the ripples disturbing the lily pads. He kept walking, until the water was almost to his waist. It was icy and sent shivers up his spine, striking his brain with ferocity. He stood there, still as death, the black water circling about his chest. He took a breath and dove under, pulling himself to the muddy floor and holding himself there.
His chest burned with fire as his body used up his oxygen, and he felt the water pressing on him. He didn't care. His grip on the earth and weeds tightened. If he could make it through the suffocation, through his mind working slower and slower, he would soon lose consciousness, and that would be it. He could fly away, leaving this world behind him.
Or would he truly fly? Perhaps his floundering soul would be taken and dragged down into the deepest depths of the Earth and nightmares. Perhaps his soul would remain in the cold and muddy waters forever, shrieking and crying out for someone to burn his decaying corpse. Or worse…what if the human consciousness was truly nothing more than chemicals and electrical impulses? What then?
He would cease to exist.
And then he could hear their voices in his fuzzy mind. Poor Rheas. Poor poor Rheas…
His eyes snapped open. What was he doing!? He didn't want to die, not now…not ever! He would never give them that satisfaction. He released his hold on the reeds and pushed upwards, trying to stand, trying to reach back into the shining light above him where he could fill his fiery lungs with air. Something stopped him.
Looking down through his blurry vision, he saw the reeds coiled around his ankle, stopping his ascent. Vision dimming…mind slowing… He pulled on the reed that held him, but he could go no further. He reached out his arm and felt it break through the water. But his hand could not breathe for him.
He panicked. He couldn't breathe…he was drowning! He reached back to his ankle, trying to untangle himself, but his hands felt numb.
Nothing seemed right then. Suddenly his other arm was jerked downward severely; reeds had wrapped around it, pulling him down to the muddy floor of the pond. When he tore at the reeds with his free hand, more shot out of the earth and took hold of him. His arms and legs were all wrapped in reeds that held him prostrate in the mud.
Suffocating……
He was going to die.
Reeds began to wrap around his waist and neck, tightening their grip slowly. It didn't matter, he couldn't breathe anyway. He was on his back now, staring up at the rippling surface of the water that was fading in and out of darkness. A great weight was pressing on his chest, crushing his ribs. The reeds had pulled his legs together, but his arms remained open, embracing the death that was crushing him…but suddenly he knew.
He was dreaming. Crucified…the reeds digging into his flesh, impaling him to the muddy earth. He knew now, he had done this before, oh so many times…
He let his head fall beck to the floor, he was too tired to fight anymore, when his skull met solid stone, not the mud that lay in the bottom of a pond. Yet the heaviness of the water pressing on his airless chest was still there, and he heard a rib crack. Opening his eyes, he found himself bound by reeds to a red marble square, its four sides held by black ones. A drow elf, wrapped in black robes, stood over him and moved his chess piece. The black marble queen towered before him.
"Checkmate."
The black queen came to life, writhing her five dragon heads before him. The chessboard melted away, leaving behind a muted pink desert, except his square.
He stood chained to the wall in the endless desert, the reeds transformed into shackles. No matter how he pulled against them, he could not get free. She was still there, laughing her triumph at his ridiculed form, the five heads swaying almost hypnotically.
"This isn't real…" he whispered, bowing his head in exhaustion, "this is a dream…a jumble of my own memories. I know now. A year ago I tried to drown myself in the pond, but I chickened out and ended up getting caught in the reeds. I played a game of chess with a drow the year before, and I lost…" He opened his eyes, staring down at the sea of sand below him. "I…" he hesitated, "I have even been to the Abyss," he stopped, brows furrowed, he could hear her waiting. "But…"
He lifted his head, looking up at the Queen of Darkness through the white hair that fell in his eyes. "But…" He pulled against his binds slightly, feeling them weaken. She was hesitating, almost afraid…
"But I was protected from your wrath!"
He yanked against the chains, and they broke away. The five-headed dragon screamed in rage as he stood before her and she dove upon him. He stood where he was, and shut his eyes.
She was on him, tearing through his flesh and gnawing his bones. Blood poured out of his mouth as he crumpled beneath her. And yet, one thought rang clearly through the dunes.
"I will wake up now."
And he did.
"Welcome back," a deep voice said gently as a cool hand was placed upon his forehead, brushing back sweat-dampened hair. Rheas blinked, waiting for the white ceiling to come into focus. Turning his head, his eyes fell upon his brother, sitting beside him.
"Cameron," he croaked, his throat sore. Tubes in his nose, an IV sticking out of his arm, grey curtain pulled about the metal bed with white sheets……it was always a damn hospital, wasn't it? "What happened?"
"Your heart stopped. Shock, probably…I don't know." Cameron said softly. His large hand continued to gently stroke back the stubborn hair, but Rheas did not seem to mind it. He had been scared, and didn't even try to deny it. He had seen Rheas have his asthma attacks, bad ones too, but the image of the paramedics tearing off his shirt, his body convulsing as the defibrillator shocked his heart back to life sent shivers down his spine.
"How long have I been out?" Rheas' wispy voice brought Cameron back out of his thoughts.
"Not long, about a day. I called Thomas when we heard you were going to be fine, and he and the others came as fast as they could."
Rheas' eyes shifted back to the ceiling, cold and blank. "Why?"
"They were worried about you."
Eyes narrowed, a slight look of confusion flashed across Rheas' face and then vanished.
"That was yesterday. But Dad and Mom are here, I sent them to go get something to eat, we didn't expect you to wake up so soon." Cameron stopped as Rheas turned his head away from his brother's touch, facing the opposite wall, the ugly look of anger twisting his features so that it startled the elder boy.
"Well," he began again, clearing his throat; "I have news I know you'll want to hear."
His brother focussed his attention back on him, the anger falling away to boredom.
"Everyone's agreed to this little crusade of yours, Thomas convinced them."
The change was alarming. The mirrors of Rheas' eyes seemed to crack and fall away as a slight smile alighted his thin lips. "Really?" he asked, and for a moment, Cameron saw the younger brother he had grown up with, the hopeful, mischievous little brother that used to sit on him on Saturday mornings demanding he get up. Those days had been short-lived; as soon after Rheas had discovered solitude was a much better companion than his brother.
Looking at him now, his defenses lowered, Cameron suddenly realized just how small Rheas was for his age. His height was average, and he was just now hitting the brunt of puberty, but Cameron had been full-grown at that age. Even so, Rheas was so thin, so frail, a strong wind could knock him over. With that sharp exterior of brittle words and hate shaken down, he was even smaller. Cameron retracted his arm, slowly, just now realizing he could crush half of Rheas' skull one handed.
Rheas coughed, just slightly, but winced all the same, his hand moving to his chest unconsciously. The golden eyes caught Cameron's brown ones, but for once they were not shadowed with little plots of his demise. They were hopeful, young eyes. "When do we leave?"
The big man looked Rheas, pale and wane, up and down, a lump forming in his throat. There was no way…
But how was he supposed to say that? Those damn shining eyes. It was as though Cameron were standing before a great stone wall, Rheas' walls, arms open, as a little five-year-old Rheas clambered over the top into view, crying out trustingly, "Catch me, catch me!"
Be damned if he let Rheas fall.
"We're not sure yet. Soon." he sighed, his hands falling to his sides. Rheas regarded him suspiciously a moment and then shrugged, leaning back onto the pillows.
"Yes, soon," he began, his tone once again the voice of an over-intelligent teen who had never been such, "A blue moon is upon us Cameron. What better time to find our lost structure?"
"Whatever Rheas, you're the magic-chaser."
"Yes…chaser…"
"You just get some rest, okay kiddo?"
Rhea shut his eyes, nodding. Cameron rose from his chair and left as a nurse came in to perform the usual check-ups.
The skies opened up and released the belated spring showers of the northwest upon the world. It had poured for the remainder of the day, painting the blue city grey outside his window. There were two others in the room with Rheas, but the patient beside him always had the curtains drawn around him, and they blocked off the patient closest to the door, who always had visitors coming and going.
Cameron returned and sat with him for as long as he was allowed, constantly asking if Rheas was comfortable or if there was anything he could get him until he became a nuisance.
He feels guilty, Rheas thought, rejecting the food the nurse had brought him despite her protests.
"Nothing personal," Cameron told her with a wink, "he never eats much in the way of real food anyway. I think he lives off air."
His parents had not come in to see him yet, and Rheas was unsure whether to feel hurt or relieved. He did not need his mother's pitying looks and touch. He did not need to see his father shake his head sadly, satisfied that this was just more proof of his recent decision. In the end, he was glad they were gone, and prayed that they had just gone home; relieved he was all right and satisfied with that.
No such luck.
Cameron saw the immediate change in Rheas' eyes the moment their parents came into the room. Fires, bright and scalding, flared upward until he almost felt heat emitting from the younger boy. These were not fires of a teenager punished unjustly, nor distrust or spite, but of hatred, pure and malicious.
And little Rheas fell backwards off the wall, back inside his own confines.
As anticipated, their mother practically fell onto Rheas, weeping and touching his hands and face. But where Cameron's had been tolerated, suddenly Rheas couldn't stand the touch of his mother's cold hands, and he shrank from them.
"Stop it Mother," he hissed, it was a warning.
She looked into his eyes, but she didn't see the fire of sudden hate, she couldn't read what he was shouting at her mentally.
I know what you are going to do with me. I heard you.
Cameron saw the look, but didn't understand it. Their father sat and began explaining what procedures the doctor felt would be best for Rheas to prevent another 'accident', as he put it, but the whole time Cameron couldn't take his eyes off his brother. Rheas had put on his armor and thrown up his walls; he wasn't even listening anymore. Sudden pity welled up in him, and it must have shown. Rheas' eyes swept over to him and the gold irises flashed with a sudden clap of thunder only he could hear.
"Get out." Rheas hissed through his teeth. He was speaking to his parents, but leering directly into Cameron's eyes, right into his soul. Their parents stood there, dumbfounded.
"Rheas, don't get all riled up and--" his mother began.
"Get out!" he shouted, sitting up and whirling to face them in one swift movement. If it caused him any pain, the inferno that had exploded in him had burned it away. "Get out! I don't need you here! At all! Get out!"
His mother, tears in her eyes, was about to protest when their father took her by the arm and led her out of the room, fearing another outburst from his son would not only draw unwanted attention, but also might get Rheas hurt. Rheas sat there, panting, his golden eyes following them until they were gone.
"You," he snapped, facing a bewildered Cameron. He stopped and shut his eyes, taking a breath. When he had calmed himself he tried again. "You must go find out from the others when we are leaving. I'll need to be ready by then."
"Rheas…" Cameron began slowly. He knew Rheas would hate him for this but…"you're not going."
"What?" Rheas wheezed, catching himself as a small coughing fit overcame him.
"You're in no condition to go anywhere. We'll go find this thing for you, don't worry. You just stay here and rest."
"I have to go." Rheas replied desperately, his hands starting to shake.
Cameron stood up, slinging his jacket over his shoulders. "No Rheas, you're not going. I doubt you could even get out of that bed right now, as to hiking around in the woods. Let the doctors figure out what's wrong with you and…"
"Nothing is wrong with me Cameron. What happened really was an accident of sorts, and I won't let it happen again! He has been silenced for now and I needn't worry."
Staring at his brother in confusion, Cameron inquired, "Who's been silenced?"
"I know I'm not crazy now, Cameron. I know it. But the one who did this to me…"
"Damnit Rheas, no one was there! You just fucking flipped again!"
"He was there!"
"Who?!" Cameron demanded angrily, "If this was the doing of some guy that attacked you or whatever, who was it?"
Sighing, Rheas shrugged. "Some old lech. I don't know what happened, he just tackled me and I blacked out."
"Your heart stopped, you were hallucinating. You're not going and that's that." With that, Cameron turned and walked out the door after his parents, leaving Rheas alone.
He would have believed that, if he could not even now still feel those icy hands dig into his flesh and close around his heart.
No one came back for the rest of the day, as visiting hours had finally ended, and he was not looking forward to spending another night in this place. With all the drugs they had put in him though, it really didn't matter. When he woke up again it was late morning.
They were leaving today. Without him.
He shook his head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. What did it matter? He was probably wrong, about everything. He probably had gone insane at last and saw all these things only because…because…
Because despite it all, a part of him had always wanted to see them. To know something was there at night and the shadows that circled his head were minorities compared to these things that stalked him.
The rain stopped long ago, leaving behind only a silent drizzle that penetrated all things, including hospital walls. He felt wet and cold, but there was not a drop of moisture in the air at all. No one came to visit him, and he was glad.
He ignored the nurses and slept, dreaming of dead knights, centaurs, unicorns and great winged horses that would carry him up to the starry heavens and leave him there, looking down on all. He awoke to the high squeal of the curtain being drawn around his bed.
"What is it?" he demanded groggily, rubbing his eyes in attempt to get the blur before him into focus.
"Visiting hours. I thought I'd drop by."
"Imare'? How'd you know I was here? And why the hell are you wearing my sweatshirt?" the fifteen-year old inquired.
"Toby told me, I came by as soon as I was able." Imare' shrugged absently.
"Again, why are you wearing my sweatshirt?"
"Because you're not."
Rheas rolled his eyes and flopped back onto the pillow, too exhausted to banter with the crazed junior. "So what are you up to lately? Anything exciting?" he asked lamely, his post-drugged mind not quite ready to wake up.
"Nothing much," Imare' replied, yanking off the sweatshirt quickly and tossing it onto the bed. Lifting a bag Rheas had not seen off the floor, he tore into it and threw out a pair of jeans, a tee shirt, Rheas' gloves, and his other essentials onto Rheas' feet. "Get dressed, and hurry."
Rheas merely stared at him, wide eyed. "How did you…?"
"You want to go, don't you? Hurry up!" Imare' winked before vanishing outside the curtain. Rheas could only sit there, letting everything sink in.
And then his mind snapped back into wakefulness. Practically jumping out of bed, stumbling on sleepy legs, he dressed himself quickly. The heaviness of the sweatshirt was comforting after the hospital dress, and he wrapped himself in it. He looked in the backpack to see everything he needed, his spellbook, the Chronicles of Fahtea and its notebook companion, plus a bunch of other stuff Rheas had planned to take along. Beside the bag lay the staff.
How did Imare' know?
The elusive junior poked his head in and practically threw the bag onto Rheas' back. "You're going to have to move swiftly, the others are leaving very soon…"
"Imare', how did you know?"
"Be careful with that staff, I almost couldn't get it in here."
"How did you know!?" Rheas snapped, grabbing Imare's thin wrist firmly.
"I told you. I was with Toby when he was packing and he explained everything. He got what you needed and I came here as quick as I could. He said he'd try to stall the others but..." he shrugged, and pulled his arm free as Rheas' hand went slack. "Here, keep your hood pulled up so no one sees you."
Rheas pulled his hood up until it practically covered his eyes. He saw it now. Though he doubted anyone was watching, Imare' had come in Rheas' sweatshirt so Rheas could leave undisturbed.
"Imare', this is one of your dumbest ideas ever," Rheas sighed.
"Ah well. Hey, there's a bus heading back to town at twelve o'clock. If you catch it you'll probably make it home on time."
"Twelve o'clock? That's in three minutes!"
Imare' smiled slyly, a touch of silver flashing through his steel eyes. "Then I suggest you run."
Hesitating a second, as though unsure what to say, Rheas finally turned and fled out of the room, staff slung over his shoulder. Imare' sighed and drew back the curtain slowly as he watched him go.
Turning towards the window, the junior leaned on it, gazing out at the grey world.
"Good luck, Shandachi."
Toby only had his permit, but already had himself his own car to drive. Many believed that the sheer size of the huge red van was only to accommodate for Toby's lack-there-of. But now, as Thomas and Cameron stuffed the last of the camping gear into the van, they were all glad of it. Though not comfortably, the van could hold all of them.
The whole inside was covered, from floor to ceiling, with a thick shag carpet, some fuzzy dice hanging off the rear-view mirror, and a miniature disco ball made the van Toby's ideal hide-away when all his sisters came to visit.
"I can't believe we're doing this." River smirked as he climbed in after Goldie.
"The fact that we've actually gotten ourselves together, or that we're following nothing on some acid-trip quest?" Frank inquired, humor glinting in his eyes as he leaned out the driver's seat window.
River shrugged. "Both!"
"Yeah yeah," Cameron rolled his eyes, about to shut the back doors when a slight wheezy voice called out.
"Wait! Wait…up!"
The van seemed to tilt slightly as the companions leaned to look out the back at the figure half-jogging, half stumbling towards them.
"Rheas!" Cameron shouted, his face turning almost the same shade as the van, "What the hell are you doing here!?"
"I'm coming……Cameron," he gasped, sauntering up to the van, "No matter…what. I'll hang off…the back bumper if I…have to……"
"How did you get out!?"
"They…let me out…I'm all better…" he sneered, swaying on his feet.
"You look like you're about to die," Thomas commented wryly.
"Ran all the way…here from…bus stop……catch me." he wheezed and crumpled. Cameron caught him, holding him gently.
"Mom and Dad are going to skin me alive for this," he sighed, hefting his fainting brother into his arms. His eyes suddenly fell upon the staff, gripped tightly in Rheas' pale hand. "I thought that…we left that in the city!"
"No such thing, it was there when I woke up…" Rheas murmured, backing out of his brother's hold and leaning on the staff heavily.
"What is that?" Thomas inquired, leaning against the van.
"This, Thomas," Rheas panted, "is my proof to you that I am speaking the truth. I do not know what we will find on this venture……but I do know that…this is real." he planted the staff in the ground, holding it forth.
"Behold, the staff……staff of…" he began, then faltered. He did not know its name, he did not know its name… "The Staff of Magius!"
Cameron blinked. Was he supposed to know that name? He felt like he should. Thomas knew it too, by the look on his face. But the senior hook his head vehemently, clearing his head, then stated, "I'm honestly glad you're coming Rheas, but hurry up and squeeze in, we have a ferry to catch. You have all your things, right?"
Rheas nodded weakly and pulled himself up into the back of the van with the others, next to Toby. Cameron shut the doors on them and followed Thomas to the front.
"Well, here we are." Cameron sighed, sitting back in his seat beside Thomas.
Thomas brushed his hair back and grinned oddly. "Let's go adventuring."
The red van shuddered to life, and then pulled away.
This was hard to write, mainly because I've only been in a hospital once (for a stupid broken pinkie, my brother's fault, mind you) and I have no clue how they work. It was hard enough looking up just some basics on cardiac arrests. (I live a mile away from the stupid library too, but it didn't have diddly squat. ) So that's it! It's over! Now to the meat of the story which is……honestly quite dull and repetitive. *sigh*
Sorry about the confusing last chapter. I'll try to be clear, but this is one of those stories you have to do a little thinking (not that I'm saying your not) Rheas is now mixing his past memories with his current, and we don't find out about those until later. The 'creepy old lech' as Rheas loves to call him, is Fistandantilus. Yes, he's still there. See the whole heart-grabbing scene from The Soulforged? And the Bloodstone? Anyway, if there is any confusion just specify it in your review and I'll try to clear it up to the best of my abilities without giving the story away.
Umm…(runs and hides) actually, Rheas was not thinking of Crysta back in 10, he was thinking of someone else. (dodges fruit and random sharp pointy objects) Don't worry! There will be more stuff with them later! Fluff! I swear!
Imare' is not Gilean. Let me try this, who is he in the fic? And raven is not Nuitari. Sorry.
buh-bye!