When is it acceptable to shed tears over long pasts sorrows? I do not pretend to know the answer, but only admit that there have been times I have though I ask the question "why do I cry?" Do I cry out of shame, out of remorse? Out of some sick quest for redemption, that maybe if I anguish it somehow takes the sin from me? Such thoughts are idle and inane. I am stained by a history longer than the ground, yet I always remember that girl. She was the first victim, and I executed her.
Sand, the ground shifted like sand under Stars body, the hot sensation of baked grains rubbing against her skin. She sits up, opening her eyes to gaze over an expansive beach of white sand, the sun hovering over the horizon, bathing the sky in purples and red hues. The waves slap against the shore, the water foaming as it slaps against the earth.
The whole setting was immediately recognisable. She had visited this place often in her dreams, one of her tamer fantasies. She cranes her head around, looking for anybody else. She only finds the raven hair of the Seeker, still dressed in his conservative clothes as he sits on a bench, book in hand.
"You have quite the vivid imagination," he says, closing the tome and hiding it away in the folds of his jacket. "It's quite impressive really though perhaps you should try to move away from the more lurid scenes I've found you to produce. They're not fit for someone as young as you."
Star blushes, standing up in the sand "you've been looking through my fantasies."
Seeker nods, "Yes I have. I've been combing through your mind since I got here, I've had little to do for a long time, so it's been refreshing for me to have something new to look into. Frankly, the reason people worry about something as someone else knowing what they think is the base fear of how it will affect their standing interpersonally and socially with both acquaintances and friends. No such worry is headed for me. A thing like me doesn't interact with the native world as people." He stands, "in any case that isn't why we're here." He looks over the endless white-sand beach, "you're here to confront yourself again."
"Doubt?"
"You will not meet doubt again until you conquer her, which you ought to work on. I've seen the power you possess as a spell caster. You lack skill, but the pure energy that wand eeks from you is frankly astounding. Though I find it difficult to parse where you end, and the wand begins in that regard." He looks over, eying up Star and pondering on the conundrum before him, "though also you should start considering where you are and the purpose of the lies you're being told."
"Are you the one lying?"
"If I was that would make my answer untrustworthy, therefore my answer is worthless. You will have to find which of us to trust or you will die here. You may die anyways though that is of little concern to me, I get what I want at either end of the juncture."
Star moves up to stand over the lounging form, casting a shadow over his pale face and raven locks. "What do you even want from me then, and if you win either way why even bother to play."
He laughs, "my motivations are of a simple source. I'm bored, and that boredom correlates to what I want. I've been caged like an animal for a long time, and you offer an escape. Though your arrival has brought back old queries; after all, what is a wild animal but something that, uncontrolled, is a danger? Perhaps I am no more righteous than my captors, or perhaps they are vanguards who ought to be praised for chaining me to my stone. I think they are butchers, but what I think ought to be and what is are two different realities altogether." He grins, "though I suppose I haven't actually answered your question, and by now you must be supposing I never will, so I can either continue rambling about nothing or we can continue to work on more practical pursuits. Though if you really want the right answers you should start asking right questions. I have no intentions of lying to you."
Star gives a little sigh at the difficulty of the man, "Who is Alexander?"
"A dead man, as I've already said. Think a bit harder."
"When did he die?"
"Before I was," he gives a little smile.
Star takes a long moment, thinking over what to say. The relation between the two must be more than he's willing to divulge, why, otherwise, would he be so difficult about it.
"It's possible I'm being difficult because it amuses me," he says with a wry grin.
"Wh-" Star begins, trying to gather herself from the sudden blow.
"You can't hide your thoughts from me in here. I can speak with the ecosystem of your mind, which includes your internal monologues."
"Can you not do that?"
"Think it's unfair? Well, trust me when I say I'm playing with a handicap much greater than your's."
She sits down onto the sand directly across from him, her legs crossed. "When did you die?"
"I died with my friend." He stands up, "well that seems to be enough for now; it would be ill advised to dawdle further on this. You have another aspect to confront."
"Wait," she says, looking up to him as she scrambles to her feet. "You told me to question the lies I'm being told, how do I know this isn't pointless, or worse."
"The fun of this is that you don't. I don't like giving away the answers, so it falls to you, young miss Butterfly, the parse the truth out of this. I hope you see the truth, it would be a poor story indeed if you didn't."
"Then give me one more question, what happened to Alice?"
"Poison, deadly pollutants seeping into the earth from a vile man of vindictive strength. The weight of rejection, it latched to her, defiling her form and perverting her longings. She had wishes of the flesh and longings for the heart; she partook of the flesh and the hearts of those around her. Alice died and was replaced by a beast so foul, yet wearing her face and keeping her blood." He turns away, starting to walk across the white sand, "her death was only the first, you will witness the fall of man, where even the stalwart and virtuous are perverted to baser, ghastly ghosts."
"That's," she starts. It was vile, the words flowing out spinning corruptive forces, Star understanding the gravity of what she brought herself and Marco to. "Who would do something like that?"
"I pray that the people who did this destroyed this world with a sense of regret, as their goals were not it's death, but I fear that, save one, none even considered the deaths their actions would wreak." He gives a pained sigh, one filled with regret, "it is of little use pondering the past when the present requires us. It is time you meet your passions."
"I thought passion was a good thing," she says, trying to move topic.
"There is neither good nor ill within her, merely she is. Your passions are not long lived, they are lightning, fast and hot, like mist, beautiful, but fleeting. They distract you when you must focus, and do nothing to help you seek greater commitment." He turns to her, "though you ought to see this yourself." He gives a little smile before turning once more, his robe flourishing about, wrapping in on itself like an ouroboros 'till no trace of him was left.
"Well isn't he dramatic," a cheery voice rings out. "Oh, oh, I know, he's brooding!" Star turns to her side, standing before her was a raven haired woman adorned in a long flowing scarlet dress. She grins wide at Star. "Aren't you adorable," she says, quickly scooping up the smaller Star into a hug, lifting her from the ground. "A cute girl in my realm!" She drops her roughly, looking around rapidly, "ah, what to do?"
Star groans slightly as her back smashes into the sand, her body sinking in slightly. "How about telling me who you are."
"Oh, well I'm Passions," she gives a flourished bow before quickly righting herself. She grins, "so what do you want to do?"
She scans the woman's pale, beautiful face, and down her feminine body. She would rightly be considered among the most stunning woman to live, if she actually were to live. "I want to get back my scissors," she says, "we need to get back to earth."
She gives a light giggle, "oh come on you must have something more interesting you can do." She puts out a hand, gripping Star by the wrist before pulling her up to her feet. I mean, the world you're in is pretty amazing." Her feet stomps into the ground, the scene about them morphing into the field of crimson spider lilies. "Look at the beauty here," she says, her arms outstretched, body twirling among the flowers. "Isn't it amazing? You need to just relax and look at all the good around you."
Star frowns, looking off into the distance, towards Bulwark. "This place isn't safe, and we're trapped. It cages us in."
"Stop worrying, we've always just gone with it." She grins, "everything will work out, everything has always worked out in the end, so why not just enjoy the ride?"
"Because," she starts, "because that's irresponsible, and deranged!" She points to the direction of the fort, "that's where we are right now, and something there wants to kill us. I don't know whether Seeker is lying to me, but I do know one thing, coming here was a bad idea. Either this is what matters or the waking world matters, but in either case both me and Marco could die. I can't fail him, not again." Star brings her hand to her eyes, wiping away a few tears she didn't even know she shed, "I need to be focused right now."
Passions looks on with a little sadness, "you've lost your way, you're forgetting what it is to be yourself." She smiles, "oh, I know! I can show you again, just let me take the wheel for a little bit; I promise everything will work out." She takes a short step forward, outstretching a hand.
Star looks at the hand, and then to passions, "are you serious? No. I can't afford to not be acting at least a little bit serious. This is my mistake and I have to get us out of it."
Her smile fades away, a more serious expression taking its place, "I wasn't asking." The area morphs again, the field overgrowing with thicket and thorns. Vines move in, trying to ensnare Stars leg in a tangle. "You're making a mistake by not letting me do this." She plods forward, her dress shifting shade to a light grey to accent her menacing, pale facade.
Star struggles against the ensnaring lichen wrapping about her arms and encroaching her onto her legs. "What are you doing?" She shouts, suddenly feeling hapless. She struggles over the wines, pulling them taut, trying to step out of the vine.
The red haired woman steps forward, hand outstretched. "Just relax, you'll be fine." She smiles faintly, "I'll give you back the wheel after I do some things."
Star pulls back with all her might, tearing away the plants, the ground uprooting and sending dirt into the air. Stumbling back she starts to move away from the thought form. "Get away, you can't do that!" She turns and starts to dash away, looking behind her.
"Stop, you're being puritanical," Passions grins as Star runs into her, knocking herself to the ground. "You need to just relax and have some fun."