Chapter Fifty-Three: Light and Life
Gwen Twymann sat on the beach, staring off into the distance, trying to discern where the ocean ended and the sky began.
It was hot, probably in the mid-eighties. That was no problem, though; Gwen had always preferred warm weather. She only wished she had a bathing suit in her sylladex; it was a shame to be on such a beautiful beach with nothing but school clothes. At least it would take her a while to get noticeable tan lines—her darker skin was working in her favor, there.
The light from Skaia felt warm and soothing on her skin, as did the gentle breeze that kept the island's temperature from growing too hot. There was a salty scent on the wind, from the ocean, but it was not overpowering. The only thing missing was the crying of seagulls.
The ocean was sparkling in the daylight, and while there was no wind on the island which Gwen was marooned on, there was a stiff breeze further out to sea; Gwen could see whitecaps in the distance. All in all, it was like a normal summer day at the beach, save for a few crucial differences.
First difference: the ocean water was emerald in color, rather than blue. Gwen knew that the water itself was not actually green—the ocean's hue was merely a result of the water absorbing certain colors of light from the sun. Light, after all, is energy in its purest form—nature's way of transferring energy through space. For whatever reason, perhaps due to an elevated level of plankton in the water, the specific energy of the green wavelengths of visible light reacted with the water molecules and were dispersed rather than absorbed, giving the water its green appearance.
Gwen blinked several times, massaging her temples to alleviate the sudden ache that arose there. Since when did she know so much about light? It was very strange—Gwen had always been one of the smartest people in her school. And that wasn't Gwen tooting her own horn; it was fact, and she had the IQ tests to prove it. She was a good student, able to breeze through the most advanced classes Downingtown West High School had to offer. But ever since she'd entered this strange dimension of Sburb, the incipisphere…it was almost as if someone was downloading random information into her mind.
The reason for the ocean being green, for example; she'd never known exactly what it was that made Earth's oceans blue. She'd never known that the water absorbed certain colors of the visible spectrum while dispersing the others. But now…now, it seemed painfully obvious to her.
Gwen shook her head again, keeping her thoughts from straying too far off-topic. Back to the strange characteristics of this planet…
Second difference: the sky was orange, and the clouds were all the colors of the rainbow, constantly shifting from one end of the spectrum of visible light to the other. And before Gwen's thoughts started to explore what made those things possible, she thought of the final strange characteristic…which was something that she could not explain, to her relief.
Third difference, as well as the biggest: floating in the sky—among the clouds, below the clouds, above the clouds; all elevations—carried about by the wind currents, were giant, asteroid-like chunks of a transparent material…glass, perhaps, or crystal. Some were as small as cars, while the largest ones could probably rival small mountains in size. There were also more of these objects on the ground, shaped more like long crystals, protruding up from the insides of the planet.
They were prisms. They caught the light from Skaia and refracted it, shooting out brilliant beams of multi-colored light. What Gwen found profoundly strange about them was the fact that they were able to refract light in the manner of a prism without having the proper shape—prisms were able to split white light into its respective colors because of how its surfaces were angled in relation to each other…but these unshapely chunks of glass or crystal were simply able to do it without such restrictions.
It did not take a rocket scientist to see why Gwen's planet was called the Land of Shores and Prisms.
Gwen stood up abruptly, turning her back on the ocean. The island was small, completely ringed with perfect beaches of reddish sand, but its interior was covered with coconut-bearing palm trees, pineapple plants, and light foliage. The flora of this island, at least, was a normal green color.
Green in color, caused naturally by their possession of chlorophyll, which absorbs the red and blue wavelengths of light from the sun-
Gwen took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the light-related jargon that wormed its way into her head. After taking a brief pause to let her thoughts settle, she continued to walk back up the beach towards the shelter of the trees.
The frequency at which the rush of foreign information was entering her mind had not increased, or anything, and it was not like she could never have a moment's peace…but she'd always been the kind of person whose thoughts wandered into the outer regions of her mind, constantly asking questions, constantly trying to seek answers, constantly trying to figure out how everything worked…
Now, every time she did that, she was nearly overwhelmed by a torrent of new information that answered her questioning thoughts. She was really beginning to grow more cautious with her thoughts, making much more of an effort to keep focused, not letting her mind wander. When she reached the shade of the foliage that grew on the interior of the island, Gwen glanced up at one of the palm trees, her stomach growling as she saw the coconuts that grew at the very top.
Gwen had been stranded on this island for over a day, now, and she was getting really hungry. After entering the Medium with the help of Gino, who had acted as her server player, Gwen had easily fended off the underlings that attempted to swarm her home, quickly acquiring enough grist for Gino to build her house up to her first gate.
During all this, her Gramps had prototyped himself with her sprite, which had already been prototyped pre-entry with Nibbles, her pet rabbit. Nibbles had been killed during the entry phase when a shelf had fallen on him and crushed him—Gwen had prototyped her deceased pet with the kernelsprite at the advice of Theo. Then her Gramps added himself to the mix, making the sprite much more…bizarre-looking, to say the least.
But, despite the incredulity Gwen felt when she saw her Gramps with rabbit ears and furry paws in place of his hands, her sprite had grown much more helpful. When it was just Nibbles who was prototyped with the kernelsprite, all the sprite really did was hover around and ask Gwen for carrots. Grampsprite, however, retained all the intelligence of her Gramps, allowing the sprite to communicate much more easily.
Well, so much for being helpful. Grampsprite had given her his sprite pendant and told her that he loved her, how proud he was to call her his granddaughter, as well as giving her as much help as he could without revealing too much about the game. Sprites, it seemed, had access to a wealth of knowledge about the inner workings of Sburb, but they were also compelled to be cagey about how much of that information they shared.
Then, after telling Gwen that he could not accompany her beyond the first gate, Grampsprite had wished her luck and departed. Gwen had gone through the first gate, like she was supposed to…only to emerge on another island, smaller than the one her house had materialized on. And that was it; nothing related to her quest was located on this island, no more gates or return nodes; not even any animals. Just beaches, palm trees, and the giant green ocean.
Gwen could spot other islands in the distance, but they seemed to be similar to the one she was currently marooned on. They were probably much farther away than they looked, too—swimming to them would be incredibly difficult, and would ultimately serve no purpose. Still…she was limited on options. If she did not find a solution soon, she would be dead of dehydration in days.
Having nothing else to do, Gwen continued to walk straight through the middle of the island, where the tropical foliage was at its thickest. She found a little clearing within the thickest grove of palm trees and sat down once again, resting her head back against the trunk of one of the thicker trees.
She had no intention of staying there for very long, however. Gwen liked sitting in this grove because, when she could not see the ocean or the bright sand of the beaches, when she was completely surrounded by plantlife and greenery…it felt much more peaceful. And for someone with thoughts as potentially chaotic as hers could be, peace and quiet was something to be treasured. Unfortunately, the tropical foliage blocked much of the sea breeze, which was gentle enough to begin with, so the temperature of the island's interior was higher than that of the beaches and outer woods.
Gwen wiped away a bead of sweat that had broken out above her brow, opening her eyes once more. She remained silent, staring off into the orange sky, losing herself amongst the floating prism rocks and the ever-shifting rainbow-colored clouds. She stayed there, sitting against that palm tree, for a while—longer than she'd intended. It had gotten uncomfortably hot in the grove, but she was too relaxed at the moment to care.
Her relaxed state would not last, however. After several hours of resting against the palm tree, basking in the heat, Gwen's eyes flew open when she heard something disturb the relative silence of the island.
Voices. She heard voices.
There were people here. And people meant a way off this island.
Gwen could barely contain her excitement as she scrambled up to her feet, plunging into the foliage, heading in the direction of the voices; they were coming from the opposite side of the island. There were several different voices—perhaps four or five individuals—and it was not long before Gwen heard more sounds…not more voices, something else… Shoveling, maybe? It definitely sounded like earth being displaced.
Gwen's instincts were correct—the people who'd arrived on the island were indeed digging a shallow hole in the ground…but, ultimately, that was the last thing Gwen was paying attention to, in her shock. She emerged into another grove of palm trees, much closer to the beach as well as more sparsely vegetated.
There were four individuals gathered in the center of that grove. Three of them had been digging the shallow hole with spades while the fourth supervised. Gwen stumbled into the clearing just as two of the diggers were lifting a battered old wooden chest from the hole, setting it down on the ground. They were just as startled by Gwen's sudden appearance as Gwen was by their…well…
Gwen stared at the four strangers, not even blinking. The first thing that came out of her mouth was, "Uh… Turtles."
The four strangers were turtles. They were nearly man-sized, they stood upright on their stubby hind legs and used their front legs as arms like people would…but they were turtles. Giant, talking, sentient turtles. Their skin was a grayish-brown color. Their shells, however… They were shaped like normal turtle shells, covering their backs exactly like normal turtle shells…instead of being green, however, like most normal turtle shells, they were varying shades of orange, ranging from burnt orange to amber.
Once Gwen was able to get over the shock of meeting a bunch of giant talking turtles, she started to notice more details, her mind processing information as fast as a computer. The four turtle-people all had a symbol drawn onto their shells with yellow paint—a circle with small rays radiating outward from its edge, the four rays at the 'cardinal' positions of the circle being the longest. The symbol looked like a stylized sun.
The turtle who appeared to be in charge, the one who was supervising the other three, was the tallest and oldest of the group. He had a large, stormy gray eye—the other one was presumably missing, the eye socket covered by an eye-patch. He wore a brown skullcap, heavy black boots, and a sturdy leather belt that bore a long, thin-bladed rapier on one side and a flintlock pistol on the other. The other three turtles were armed with cutlasses, as well as various odd accessories—one of them wore a bandanna tied around his head, another had a large silver hoop dangling from the side of his face, in the same place a human's ear would be located.
While the three turtle people who'd been digging up the wooden chest gawked at Gwen as she stumbled into the clearing, the one-eyed turtle had drawn his pistol in a flash, aiming it straight at Gwen's head. And even as the one-eyed turtle drew his weapon, Gwen had already accessed her strife specibus, retrieving her primary weapon—a Walther model handgun; a gift from her Gramps, who'd always had an affinity for pistols—and taking aim straight back at the turtle's forehead.
Though she maintained an outward sense of calm, Gwen was inwardly doing her best to keep her thoughts from running wild into panic mode. That one-eyed turtle looked like he was deadly capable with his flintlock. Even so, that was not necessarily the most problematic part of the whole situation—even if she were able to defeat these turtle guys, how would she get off the island?
Wherever the rest of the turtle people were, they probably would not be keen to offer Gwen passage off the island if she just went ahead and killed four of their kin. So, in truth, the one-eyed turtle was completely in charge of the situation.
"Interesting weapon you got, there," the one-eyed turtle broke the silence, speaking to Gwen for the first time. "Is that a firearm?"
"Sure is," Gwen replied, keeping her voice steady, along with her hands. "Walther PPK; straight blowback-operated, semi-automatic. Same gun used by James Bond."
The turtle's lone gray eye blinked once and he cocked his head, confusion written all over his face. The other three turtle guys murmured amongst themselves.
"What'd the alien say?" the turtle with the indigo bandanna tied around his head grunted, every bit as confused as his one-eyed kinsman. "Who the bloody hell's James Bond?"
Gwen muttered under her breath. She was on an alien planet in another dimension, talking to sentient turtles. No shit they wouldn't have any idea who James Bond was. Gwen considered the fact that another consequence of entering the Medium was that any pop culture references she made would fall on deaf ears.
"Shut it, Inaros," the one-eyed turtle growled at his lackey. He then turned his attention back to Gwen. "I must apologize for the behavior of some of my younger crewmen; they are not well-known for their manners. I propose we ease the tension here with a simple exchange of names and species, followed by a mutual lowering of our firearms; does this sound acceptable?"
Gwen hesitated before answering, but ultimately acquiesced. "Okay, I'm game…" She was still on her guard, but she could recognize an olive branch when it was being offered to her.
"Very good." The one-eyed turtle gave an approving nod, a faint smile tugging at one of the corners of his mouth. "We are consorts of this world. My name is Aristophanes, and I am the first mate of the Viridian Wind."
"My name's Gwen, and…uh…" Gwen felt like she should add more than just Hi, I'm Gwen. Aristophanes seemed to be expecting a little bit more than that, but Gwen didn't know of anything else to add to…wait… Then again, Sburb had given her some sort of title—Grampsprite had told her about it. "And I'm the Witch of Light."
Whatever the hell that means, Gwen thought to herself as she finished that sentence. But while she may not have known what being the 'Witch of Light' meant, Gwen could see that it held huge significance with the consorts. The three younger turtles began murmuring to one another again.
Aristophanes held Gwen's gaze, however, his eye not blinking once. "The Witch of Light, you say?"
"That's what I was told, yeah."
"Told?" Aristophanes arched an eyebrow. "By whom, if I may ask?"
Gwen was starting to lose patience. "By my Gramps, who decided to turn himself into a spirit guide with freakin' rabbit ears. Anymore questions?"
The three younger consorts grew louder in their murmurings, and Gwen caught one of them saying 'kernelsprite' at one point. So that meant they had some measure of knowledge concerning Gwen's quest. Maybe she would be able to get some answers from them that Grampsprite had withheld.
Aristophanes released the hammer of his flintlock pistol, lowering the weapon and returning it to his belt. "Very well, Witch…it would appear that we are no longer strangers."
Upon Aristophanes's lowering of his pistol, Gwen stowed her Walther back into her strife specibus, causing the handgun to vanish into thin air. Now that all the weapons had been put away, the three younger turtle consorts filled in the hole and took up the old wooden chest, and Aristophanes started to lead the way back to the beach, gesturing for Gwen to follow.
As they made their way through the tropical foliage, Gwen couldn't help but stare at the large wooden chest, wondering what was inside it. She nearly jumped in surprise when Aristophanes suddenly spoke to her. "Knowledge," the one-eyed consort said to her. Upon seeing Gwen's questioning glance, the orange-shelled turtle clarified. "You haven't stopped looking at that chest. It contains scrolls from the Library of All—very ancient knowledge. That, and a substantial amount of somewhat less-than-legal rum."
As Gwen was led out of the woods and onto the beach, she could see a small skiff pulled up onto the sand—used by Aristophanes and company to land on the island. But beyond that, further out to sea…
There was a good-sized ship anchored not too far offshore, bobbing in the shallow waves. It was made of wood, and it reminded Gwen very much of an 18th Century first-rate ship of the line—three gun decks, which were all currently sealed, over a hundred cannon, three masts…a ship of that size was large enough to have a complement of several hundred crewmen. Flying from the top of the mainmast was an indigo flag emblazoned with the same golden sun symbol painted on the consorts' shells, as well as two crossed scimitars beneath the symbol. The ship's hull was also made of a dark green wood, and its sails were dyed emerald, close to the color of the ocean—this probably made it blend in with the water at a distance.
Gwen could see why it was called the Viridian Wind.
"She's a beauty, no?" Aristophanes grinned as he looked upon his ship, glancing over at Gwen to gauge her reaction. "One of our most powerful ships—the captain is, after all, one of the more infamous of our number. Not many would have been able to steal the Wind right off the docks of Port Salamis like he did."
"You stole that ship?" Gwen arched an eyebrow, many pieces of the puzzle finally clicking into place. "Who'd you steal it from?"
"Why, from the Fleet, of course!" Aristophanes sounded surprised that Gwen had to ask that question. "Who else would we steal it from?"
Gwen had already had her suspicions, but this all but confirmed them. With a sinking feeling in her gut, she finally stopped beating around the bush and asked Aristophanes directly, "Are you guys pirates?"
"Well, it sounds so crude and barbaric when you put it like that…" Aristophanes cajoled Gwen as his three younger subordinates hauled the wooden chest into the skiff. His gray eye seemed to catch the daylight in a mischievous gleam, however, and he quickly added, "But, to give answer to your question, yes. Now, go on and hop in, and take care not to lose your balance—climbing into the boat is always the hardest part!"
Tami Abramov perched on top of one of the Golden Moon's tallest clock towers, one hand holding onto the spire that protruded from the center of the tower's roof. She was in a state of mild irritation and confusion. Only a mild state, however, due to the calming effect the light of Skaia seemed to have on Tami. But that very same calming effect was part of what was fueling Tami's aforementioned irritation and confusion.
It had taken Tami about a minute flat after awakening in this strange place to realize that she had no idea where she was or what was happening. She'd woken up to the sight of her bedroom…only it was distorted. It looked exactly like her bedroom, only everything existed in shades of red…to the point of it not looking quite real. The walls, floor, walls, windows…all red. Her bed, her sheets, her desk and laptop, her swivel chair and nightstand, her alarm clock, her drapes; all varying shades of red. Even her instruments had been affected by the strange color scheme of her not-bedroom.
Besides Tami herself, the only things in the bedroom that did not exist in one shade of red or another were Tami's pajamas, which were a bright golden yellow—the shirt had the symbol of a white crescent moon emblazoned on the front, and the bottoms were more of a loose skirt instead of pants—as well as her shoes. Her shoes were moccasins which she'd never owned before, and they were both a light, pinkish-red in color. It should have bothered her that her pajama bottoms were a skirt instead of loose pants—Tami hated dresses and skirts. But, curiously enough, she found that she really liked these pajamas.
Or maybe it wasn't that she liked them…more like she simply did not care enough to complain about them. They were warm and comfortable, and why complain about something that's warm and comfortable? Tami may have had an infamous temper, but she was not neurotic. The moccasins also felt wonderful, like her feet were being hugged by a cat. A cute cat, though, Tami was quick to clarify in her mind. A cute cat. Not one of those ugly ones with the faces that look like somebody whacked them with a sledgehammer.
Tami had lost track of time, not knowing how long ago it had been since she'd woken up in her distorted bedroom. But she quickly discovered that not everything was as it seemed when she ended up defying gravity and floating out of bed, and then out through one of her windows. An indescribably intense joy had swept through her, then, as she took in the radiant, gilded skyline of the Golden Moon of Prospit, watched the tallest of the towers and spires sparkle in the light of Skaia, saw the Prospitians gathering on the streets below to point up at her.
Then she'd started flying like she'd never flown before…which, in all actuality, she never had. She laughed as she soared across the rooftops, around the clock towers, and over the tall chimneys, feeling as if she'd just done a thumbprint of acid and was now hallucinating that she was Mary Poppins, or Peter Pan; both had crazy adventures in the rooftops of London. For once in her life, she didn't have a care in the world, and she was living every moment to its fullest; it was a strange feeling, both extremely relaxing and exhilarating at the same time.
And then, after flying around for…well, it was a blur to Tami. It could have been ten minutes, for all she knew, but Tami had a feeling that it had been many hours, maybe even over half a day. She'd stopped on this clock tower about fifteen minutes ago to get a breather, taking in the view of Prospit's moon down below…and then she started realizing how nonsensical everything was.
Where was she? Prospit; this giant city-planet of gold—where was this place? She knew it was real; Cruz had mentioned it to her many times…
Cruz…
Tami's brow twitched as she gave a slight frown—her first frown this entire time. Yeah, Prospit! Cruz had said to her, during one of their most recent forays into the world of hallucinogenic drugs. He'd attempted to describe his dreams to her, with limited success. It's like… It's like this city, only it's also a planet, and it's made of gold stone, and I go there when I dream. Adam goes there when he dreams, too; he managed to wake himself up somehow when he was a newborn. You're there, too, only you're sleeping! But don't worry. You'll wake up someday…
Tami blinked several times, allowing herself to begin to float up off the top of the clock tower, though she still kept a firm grip on the spire. Am I dreaming? The thought wormed its way into her mind, and she began to feel much more lucid, becoming aware of how empty-headed she'd just felt. She could still fly, and whatnot, but now she simply had to focus on it a bit.
"Hola, up there!" a familiar voice called up from below.
Tami peered downwards, a grin coming to her face as she saw none other than Cruz Arevalo in all his stoned Spanish glory, hovering in mid-air about halfway up the height of the clock tower. Cruz was dressed in golden-yellow pajamas that were identical to hers, crescent moon symbol and all, only he had actual pajama pants, rather than the skirt-like bottoms Tami was stuck with. He wore moccasins, too, only his were a light orange color.
Cruz scratched his goatee, holding a still-smoking joint in his free hand. He levitated himself slowly up to Tami's level, his smile widening as he offered Tami his joint. Tami graciously accepted the joint and whipped out her bic lighter, which she'd wrapped up in black electrical tape. She took a deep drag from Cruz's joint, closing her eyes for a moment and enjoying the initial rush of lightness that eased the worried parts of her mind. Then, opening her eyes again, she exhaled the smoke into the sky and took a deep breath.
"'mm, thanks buddy." A contented smile crept across Dream Tami's face—Cruz and Theo were the only two people ever to see her smile like that—and she relaxed, letting go of the clock tower's spire and allowing herself to float gently up and away. "That hit the spot. So, uh…heh… 'da fuck's going on?"
"You're on the Golden Moon of Prospit, Tam," Cruz answered, hovering upwards alongside Tami as she allowed herself to be carried away through Skaia's light by the breeze. "You're dreaming, right now! Your dream self has finally woken up! Chiquita, this is fuckin' awesome, yo! You can chill with Adam and me whenever you dream, now! And wait 'till you experience Prospit on acid or shrooms, Tam, you'll lose your fuckin' mind!"
The thought of that did not make Tami's smile go away—she was glad she'd found someone else in this dream realm to share in the experience.
But Cruz was also there on more pressing business than simply 'saying hello'; business from visions he'd witnessed in the Eclipses, when the Golden Moon was at the point in its orbit closest to Skaia—causing its skyline to trail through Skaia's atmosphere and offering visions of events past, present, and future to any who looked into the Skaian clouds. One such vision had shown Cruz the situation Tami was currently in; as such, Cruz was there to help Tami out, first and foremost.
"My what? Dream self?" Tami wasn't sure if she'd heard properly. She took a second hit from the joint, followed by another deep breath and a feeling of overall contentment. That did not stop her questioning, though. "What the hell is a dream self?"
"They're the bodies we wake up in when we dream, Tam," Cruz explained, and Tami found it amusing how delightfully oblivious Cruz was to how ridiculous that last statement had sounded. "Everyone who is destined to successfully enter an Sburb session has a dream self—they're kinda second bodies, extra lives for us; y cuando estamos durmiendo, when we're sleeping, our consciousness wakes up in these bodies." Cruz poked himself for emphasis, indicating his own body. "And when you wake up again, back in the waking world, your dream self here falls asleep and is returned to its tower—it is merely an empty vessel for your mind to occupy during dreams, not its own person."
"I'm not my own person?" Tami arched an eyebrow. "I'm just myself, only in another body? What if my dream self were prototyped with a sprite; would it be its own person then?"
Cruz accepted the joint back from Tami, shaking his head once as he started to light it. He took a deep hit, and then answered, "Uh, Tam, you don't ever want to do that. Trust me. Self-prototyping is like playing with a lot of fire. Look, there's something else you need to do right now before you can wake back up."
Tami gave a slight frown. "Not sure I like the sound of that. Sounds a lot like work."
"I know, it sucks!" Cruz grimaced. "But it has to be done. Can you tell me something? Why are you dreaming, right now? What made you fall asleep?"
"Well, I…" Tami frowned and her voice trailed off as she tried to recall what had happened prior to waking up on Prospit. At first she could only get glimpses of memories, but they gradually started to solidify. She remembered a vast, windless desert of pale sand dunes. Lots and lots of walking…
An eyesore on the surface of Tami's planet, where the pale sand dunes had been scraped away and the bedrock underneath broken into. Mines. Miners hauling carts filled with white crystal. A town… "There were people on my planet—Dersites…like the guys here, only they're black, not white. They were mining some kind of crystal from my planet, and I went into one of their towns…"
Tami winced as the last of the memories suddenly returned to her. Upon walking into the Dersite mining town, Tami had been jumped by the first two miners who spotted her—they'd incapacitated her by striking her in the head, and then binding her arms and feet, preventing her from accessing her strife specibus. They'd hauled her into the town council building, where the Overseer in charge of this part of the mining operation had made a quick judgment concerning her fate before drawing his energy pistol…
Tami winced again, this time as she remembered the sensation of mind-numbing pain that had been the last thing she'd felt before waking up on Prospit. "I… I think I got shot, Cruz… Ow!" Tami broke off and clasped her right side, gasping as it exploded with sudden pain.
Normally, that would've had Cruz spooked, but he'd seen this in the Skaian clouds; he knew this was coming. He grasped Tami's hand and pulled her along behind him, flying faster and faster across the skyline until Tami recognized the tower that her dream bedroom was located in, suddenly looming over them.
Tami was beginning to grow light-headed as the pain in her wound worsened. She felt her shirt getting wet, looked down, saw that she was bleeding from her right side, now. What the hell was happening?
Cruz pulled Tami through one of the four windows back into her dream room, laying her down on the floor. He lifted up part of Tami's shirt, inspecting the source of the bleeding. Tami saw that she was now bleeding out from a…it was clearly a gunshot wound, but it had just appeared out of nowhere… "Cruz…" Tami murmured, not moving as she watched more of her blood leave her body. "Cruz, what the fuck is happening to me?"
"You were right; you've been shot," Cruz informed Tami, his smile fading from sight. "You're hanging onto life by a thread, right now; that's why you've been dreaming for so long. Any wounds that you suffer while you're awake eventually transfer to your dream self—you got shot, so now your dream self is suffering from the exact same wound your waking self is dying from. Kinda weird it's taken this long to happen, but eh…"
"How…? How can I stop it?" Tami had to fight to keep her eyes open. She was astounded by how quickly the gunshot wound had rendered her nearly helpless.
"Only one thing can, Tam," Cruz shook his head, pulling Tami's shirt back down, covering the wound. "Normally, your corpse would have to be kissed by another Hero to revive you permanently as your dream self, but that's not going to happen for you, not with Gino watching over you—he doesn't know about the revival process. No, you're gonna have to heal yourself with your Aspect."
"My Aspect?" Tami's eyes narrowed, recalling Amadeus the Mouse talking to her at length concerning her Aspect, her Class, and her overall role in this game session.
"Yeah, Tam; you're the Muse of Life!" Cruz rested back against Tami's bed, taking another hit from the joint. "You deal in Life energy, and you have the power to heal yourself. Focus on your Aspect. Here, let this chill you out…" Cruz leaned forward and placed the joint in Tami's mouth, letting her take a third drag.
Tami breathed in another deep breath, closing her eyes, trying to do as Cruz said. She tried to focus inward on whatever Life energy Cruz had been talking about. Yes, she was well aware of how little sense Cruz's advice was making. He was basically telling her that she had a superpower and that she should unlock it…and that was it. No advice on how to unlock it.
But the pain spearing through her right side was strong enough to make her willing to believe anything to make it go away. She was not panicking, or anything, but she knew that she was not ready to die, and so she forced herself to be open-minded.
"When you unlock your Aspect, using its power comes to us so naturally that it's like breathing," Cruz continued to advise Tami. "It's not a completely foreign force, either—the Life Aspect is part of you. You're a source of it. It's affected you all your life without your knowing; you already know how to use it, Tam."
Something about Cruz's words clicked for Tami. He was quite baked, and a lot of his words were unintelligible…but his explanations were still able to make sense to Tami. Helped inspire her to try and figure out how to tap into this power… Maybe that was part of what made him a Sage—the ability to sound like a wise old man even if all he was saying was stoned nonsense.
Tami realized that she couldn't focus her thoughts. Something was missing, something integral…something that had been a part of her all her life. Something she always did to calm herself down. "Cruz, sit me…" Tami started to say, but her attempt at speech devolved into a brief coughing fit. She quickly recovered and finished, "Sit me up, will you?"
Cruz did as he was asked, slipping an arm under Tami's upper back and lifting her into a sitting-up position. Cruz was already sitting up against the side of Tami's bed, so he simply pulled Tami back into his lap, ignoring the blood that seeped into his own Prospit pajamas. He held Tami with both arms, resting his chin on one of her shoulders. "You're gonna be okay, Tam. You can do this."
As she was sat up, Tami retrieved her battered old ukulele and cradled it with her right arm, beginning to pluck out an improvised, Russian-sounding melody. As the notes filled the dream bedroom, Tami knew that her instincts had been right—she'd needed music. And even though it had been an exhausting effort to change positions from lying down, Tami's fingers and hands seemed to draw an energy of their own from playing music.
In fact, curiously enough…it felt like the pain of Tami's wound was actually subsiding. As she focused more and more on the improvised tune she was playing, Tami noticed the pain of her wound less and less. She closed her eyes and started breathing in rhythm to her music, allowing the profound sense of calm that playing music always gave her to wash over her.
Tami did not think about what she was playing; her fingers were moving on autopilot. The song seemed to play itself—that's how focused Tami was. Eventually she felt a strange sensation on her right side, and she opened her eyes…
Tami's body was glowing with a bright cyan light. The light seemed flow along certain contours of her body, hugging her close as if it were a second skin. Where Tami's wound was, however, the cyan light had thickened to the point where it looked white, and it actually hurt slightly to stare directly into the heart of the nexus of Life energy. Tami's Life energy hummed and pulsed in rhythm with the ukulele's song. As she continued to play, the energies collected over her gunshot wound grew too bright to look at, but she kept right on playing. Then, as Tami reached a point in her song where she felt she could give it a good ending, the cyan light faded away along with the last few notes.
Her wound was gone, completely healed. Even the bloodstains had vanished.
After she successfully rejuvenated herself, Tami saw a strange image in her mind…it was a ladder, comprising of dark rungs, save for the bottom. The bottom six or seven rungs of the ladder had come blazing to life, each one shining with a different color. That must have been her echeladder, documenting her progress in mastering the Life Aspect.
Cruz relaxed his hold on Tami, letting her fall limp against him, enraptured as she tapped into her connection to the Life Aspect, using it to heal her wound. When she was done, he lowered his joint, blowing another puff of smoke up into the air. "Now that was a Lifey thing… Tam? Tam, you alright?"
The only answer Cruz got was a long, drawn-out snore. Dream Tami was out like a light.
Cruz finished his joint with a final drag, standing up and flicking the roach out the nearest window. He paused for a moment, basking in the Skaian light that spilled inside through that window. He then turned back to Tami, reaching down and gathering her up into his arms, laying her down on the bed. "Nighty-night, Dream Girl," Cruz chuckled, pulling the quilt over his best friend. Satisfied that he'd done all that could be done, Cruz took one last look at Tami before flying back outside. Knowing that it would be a little while until Dream Tami woke back up, Cruz reached for his joint…only to remember that he'd just finished it.
Cruz gave a little noise, as if he were surprised at himself for forgetting that he'd just finished his last joint—he wasn't really surprised, though; he did this all the time—he'd had a spacey mind for as long as he could remember. It was no matter, though; Cruz simply plucked his backup joint from behind his ear, taking a moment to light up before choosing a random direction and starting to fly.
Then a distant shape caught Cruz's eye, and he altered his path, soaring towards the adjacent dream tower he'd spotted. It was Adam's tower—Cruz heard Adam had been walking the streets alone, earlier in the day, but the White Guardian had ensured that he was returned to bed before Cruz caught wind of it.
But if was safe to guess that whatever Adam was doing on the Land of Rain and Rivers had probably rendered him unconscious once again—that kid was just an injury magnet.
Cruz glided along the wind currents towards Adam's tower, his smile returning. He started to hum under his breath, hoping that his friend was awake.
Gino was nearly delirious with exhaustion by the time nightfall started to set in.
He had been on the run for nearly twelve hours straight, and that was after walking through a desert all morning long. Earlier in the afternoon, Gino had followed Tami into a semi-permanent town that was inhabited by Dersite miners. From what Gino had heard about the Dersites up until now, they seemed to be generally against him and the others winning this game session…and they'd more than demonstrated that fact to Gino when he entered town just in time to see them moving Tami out of the town council building.
Tami had been beaten, and she'd sustained a gunshot wound to her right side. That had complicated things—Gino had absolutely no idea how to stabilize a wound like that. He'd ended up tearing off part of Tami's shirt from the bottom, balling it up, and applying pressure on the wound, tying it down with a strip of fabric from his own t-shirt. He'd done this quickly—after following Tami's two handlers into a nearby stockade-like building that had holding cells, Gino had practically kicked down the door and wrecked shit, dispatching the two miners who were carrying Tami. With the entire town aware of his presence, Gino had been forced to administer his impromptu first-aid within the span of fifteen seconds, immediately followed by him lifting the unconscious Tami up and carrying her over his shoulder.
And so, Gino had fled the Dersite mining town exactly like that—bleeding girl over one shoulder, still parched from his long walk through the desert to reach the town to begin with, powered knuckledusters ready to smash through anything that tried to stand in his way. He put as much distance as he could between himself and the town; though he had initially managed to avoid the Dersites, they had jeeps patrolling the entire area, and he had to be mindful of leaving tracks in the sand of the surrounding desert.
But Gino did not give up. He kept on moving as fast as he could without being discovered, reaching the desert once again by late afternoon, leaving the mined region behind. Once he lost himself within the sand dunes, he was able to breathe a little easier. But while escape had been his first concern, his second concern was now coming back to bite him: Tami's wound.
Tami had been unconscious this whole time, and though Gino's makeshift bandage was slowing the blood flow, it was nothing more than a stopgap at best—Tami was still losing a lot of blood, and all this movement was not helping. Gino staggered down through the long, valley-like trough between two tall and rather long sand dunes, still carrying Tami, ignoring his dry throat and burning arms. Sweat was pouring off his face by now.
How the hell'd I get myself into this? Gino muttered to himself in his head. Following in Tami's footsteps to try and find her had been bad enough for Gino, who had not been looking forward to a reunion with Tami Abramov one little bit. But then finding that she'd been shot and beaten up like that… And now here he was, running from alien miners with Tami unconscious and bleeding out on his shoulder.
This whole thing was literally a nightmare.
Finally, after the last trace of Skaia's light vanished under the western horizon, leaving the omnicrystal tree formations as the windless desert's only source of illumination, Gino could go no further. He wanted to keep on going, but realized that he was no longer moving because he had fallen to his knees.
Gee, when did that happen…? Gino thought to himself, not remembering when he'd collapsed. He gingerly removed Tami from his shoulder and laid her down on the sand. He then took in several deep breaths, settling back into a cross-legged position, perfectly ready to pass out where he sat.
After debating for a little while, Gino decided that he needed to get some rest, lying himself down in the sand as well. With Tami in the condition she was in, Gino felt uneasy and slightly guilty about going to sleep, but he didn't see any other option. If he didn't get rest, he would not be able to get Tami out of this desert; then both of them would die.
Of course, that was assuming Tami even lasted the night, which Gino feared would be unlikely. He thought that he might be in a slight state of shock—carrying someone you know God knows how many miles through a desert while they bleed out on you could do that. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around the fact that Tami could be dead when he woke up. It was simply too horrible for him to accept.
Gino was too tired to have thoughts like those. He rested his head back, removed his aviator sunglasses, and closed his eyes, already feeling himself drift away into sleep the moment he did so. He did not fall all the way asleep, however…his rest was interrupted by a sudden bloom of heat that brought him back to awareness.
Upon opening his eyes, Gino nearly jumped in surprise when he saw that Tami's body was glowing with a thin film of cyan energy. The light was flowing across her skin—he could see currents in the energy, flowing along certain pathways through Tami's body, and these currents had offshoots of their own, spreading the energy to all parts of the body. The energy pathways also created eddies and swirling pools, but nothing was obstructed…save for the place where Tami's wound was.
The cyan energy had gotten bunched up on Tami's right side, where she'd been shot, almost like water rising behind a dam. Its flow was obstructed. More and more cyan light flowed into Tami's right side, gradually making the energy in that area brighter and brighter, until it looked as if Tami was wearing a bandage of white light.
Then, as suddenly as it arrived, the cyan energy subsided, sinking back into Tami's body and vanishing.
Gino's mouth hung open. Tami's wound had been healed—not a trace of it remained…not even a scratch. Even the bloodstains and dried bodily matter around the wound had been cleared away. It was as if she'd never been shot at all.
Tami's eyes snapped open. Emerald green eyes met golden yellow ones—Gino's dumbfounded gaze was the first thing Tami saw. She glanced around, getting her bearings, looked down at herself, felt the spot where her wound had been. Then she looked back at Gino.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Caiazzo?"