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Post by Maeve on Oct 4, 2009 13:37:14 GMT -5
(takes place somewhen nearly half a year after Maeve and the crew got seperated...)
A sharp swift fear ran through her, sending a shot of adrenaline in her veins. Wasn’t she reading a book on the realm’s beach just a few seconds ago?
Drawing in short breaths, Maeve shook her head slightly and blinked back several times, squinting as she tried to figure out in what mysterious place she was now standing. Brushing off the fog encircling her with her hand, she adjusted her eyes to the dim grey light of her surrounding and soon discovered that she couldn’t even see farther than two mere meters in front of her. Everywhere she looked; up, down, left, right, mist was the only thing she could see and as much as she desperately searched the thick hazy veil, her eyes couldn’t make out anything familiar whatsoever. It was like being blind. As the fog leisurely danced around her, like a snake taunting its prey, Maeve noticed she couldn’t hear anything either, except for the small distant whistle of wind echoing far, far away. It was oppressing. Invisible walls seemed to be closing in on her, making her dizzy and confused.
How long had she been standing there, lost in the fog? How did she get there? It was as if the world had stopped turning, or had moved on without her, leaving her in some misty dark place, bathing in a diaphanous light, out of space and out of time, where one’s senses were of no use. The sorceress couldn’t even think straight and yet her mind was spinning. Where was the beach? Where was Dim-Dim? The redhead felt like she was in limbo.
Deciding that panicking would do her no good, Maeve inhaled deeply, giving her heart the chance to beat normally again and when the sorceress felt calmer, still light-headed and confused, but calmer, curiosity took the upper hand. Tentatively, every inch of her body on high alert, she took a step forward. And another. And another…Ever so slowly she moved through the fog, almost as in some sort of hypnotized trance, with no clue where she was going and no idea what to look for. She felt like a lost traveler, like a lost soul…
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Post by Sinbad on Oct 5, 2009 9:02:10 GMT -5
Unlike Maeve, the captain of the Nomad didn´t find himself in this strange place abruptly. And unlike her who was used to magic things more than him, he didn´t find himself capable of sorting out anything at first. One moment he had been in his cabin aboard the Nomad, glad to have ended his early night shift and to be able to rest for a while after a few rather busy and dangerous days, the other moment the soft rocking of slightly creaking planks on waves and the bed he had been sleeping on, still wearing his boots, too exhausted and tired to mind and bother about it much, were gone. And at the same moment, he found himself at another place.
At first he thought he had woken up, but something didn´t feel right about that. He had no idea why he had come here or how and for now he didn´t make the connection that this was all a dream, that he was still on board of his ship while his mind wandered elsewhere.
The first thing Sinbad noticed was the fog. It was everywhere, moving, dancing slowly around him, so dense that it partly even seemed to veil his boots as he sat up and looked down on himself, dizzy and confused for a moment - before his instincts kicked in and he jumped to his feet.
The first thing that came to his mind was that there was something strange about this place and that this probably meant it was some sort of trickery. It wouldn´t be the first strange, evil thing for him to encounter, not the first trap to run into and with time he had learned that things that looked like nothing was going to happen - just like this place - could be dangerous. In a place like this, it was better to be careful.
Still, the hand that had moved towards his sword when he had jumped up, halted and didn´t draw the blade from the sheath. He didn´t know why, but this whole palce was strange. He did not sense any evil, but his senses with that only went so far. He was no sorcerer after all. Still, he felt that this place was something more neutral. A place with no harm. And that was what bewildered him most. He glanced around, took a look across his shoulder before he slowly turned to gaze around, trying to make out shadows, shapes, something in the fog, but without success. He dimly noticed that his feet made no sound. This place was silent. Where in the name of Allah was he?
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Post by Maeve on Oct 5, 2009 10:39:03 GMT -5
Maeve halted her silent dizzy wandering for a moment to take a look around her, if that was even possible. Angrily letting out a small growl, she tried to brush off the thick fog with her hand. Heck, she wasn’t even scared anymore, even though she was still suspicious and ready to strike at any moment. Now, irritation had taken the upper hand. With every step she took, she simply grew more and more annoyed. She didn’t like this place. Not at all. She felt watched, stalked, as if she was being part of some sick mind game.
But as frustrated as she was, Maeve couldn’t sense any threat or evil around her. Magic was at work, she was sure of it, but the energy and vibes it was emitting were neutral, and the redhead was helpless to pinpoint where it was coming from. But how exactly had she ended up in here? Why? It was driving her nuts. Perhaps Dim-dim was putting her to some sort of test? Maybe it was part of her training? If that was the case, Maeve knew her Master often came up with weird exercises, but this was beyond anything he had ever put her through.
“Maybe he’s trying to break his record of originality…” Maeve heard herself grumble lowly.
Running a hand through her hair, powerless, Maeve looked up and shouted heatedly, not really knowing who she was addressing: “What am I supposed to do? Find a door?!?”
Her only response was the far whistle of wind. Sighing loudly, she let her hands fall to her sides. Well if this wasn’t Dim-Dim’s doing, whose was it? Maeve shook her head and took a deep breath. Glancing to her sides, she went on walking, blind and deaf, through the labyrinth of mist…
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Post by Sinbad on Oct 5, 2009 13:16:26 GMT -5
Something caught his attention. It was nothing that he could name precisely. Maybe it was just the mist that was moving more or something like that. Some minor change that gave him the feeling that he was not alone. He could feel his muscles tense, his body automatically preparing for an assault and his hand, in the end, drew his sword, slowly, so whatever was lurking out there, if there was anything, would not be able to use more of an advantage of surprise than it could already with these mists being so thick that he could barely see what lay a few metres ahead.
What came then came as an utter surprise. He was not yet aware completely, what was happening around him, how he had come here and that this was but a dream, but when he heard the voice, he knew it at once. If he didn´t know anything in this strange place, no place could be strange enough to make him forget about this voice. And for a moment, he froze, desperately trying to make his eyes pierce the impenetrable fog. He could feel the grip on his sword tighten, but not from fear and the hair on his neck stand on end. For a moment he was unable to speak, let alone shout, then he yelled her name, the fogs carrying it without an echo, adding to the strangeness of the place.
"Maeve?!"
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Post by Maeve on Oct 5, 2009 19:45:45 GMT -5
Maeve stopped dead in her track. Among all the things she had expected from this mysterious and anguishing place, the sound of that voice was something she hadn’t even considered possible, something that had never even crossed her mind. In a heart beat, she spun around, trying to locate the man who had yelled her name. Her eyes darted in every direction, searching for the silhouette she knew all too well. But what if it wasn’t him? What if it was simply an illusion? A trickery? What if someone was toying with her? But any form of doubt quickly vanished from her mind and was replaced by the blindness of hope. Maeve prayed to God that it was him, that he was truly there, somewhere amidst the fog. She didn’t give a damn about how everything could possibly be real at this point. It just had to be him…
Suddenly, something caught her eyes. To her left, behind the veil of mist, barely a couple of steps away from her, Maeve could discern the outline of a man. With her heart throbbing in her ears and her breath caught in her throat, the sorceress extended a trembling hand through the fog and moved toward the figure, silently pleading to meet the eyes that had haunted her for so long.
“Sinbad?” she called out to him with a confused and uneven voice, betraying her fear of discovering that the whole thing could be a mere illusion.
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Post by Sinbad on Oct 6, 2009 8:22:28 GMT -5
He had not moved much in the mists, too bewildered by this strange place and too cautious as a result from all the strange places he had been to in his life and that had told him that it was never good to blindly run into a place where one had no orientation. Therefore he had remained where he was, sword in hand, body somewhat tense, trying to stare through the mist, trying to make out desperately where the voice had come from. It seemed to have come from everywhere and nowhere. Maybe it was the lack of echo that made it that way, he didn´t know.
When the reply came, his heart painfully skipped a beat and he moved, turning around to look this way and that, trying to make out where she was. A faint, warning voice rose in his head, telling him that something was wrong here, that something was unreal and that there could be more unreal about this place than just the mists and the lack of echo. But his stubbornness, his loneliness, all the days he had been staring at the ocean now and then in some blind, slowly dwindling hope, forced that voice to be silent. Growled at it inwardly that there was no room for such a thing in his mind.
He turned his head slightly into the direction he believed the voice had come from this time and from the corner of his eye he caught something and turned at once, his sword losely by his side now, his hand clenched around the hilt. He narrowed his eyes, noticing that his heart was pounding with a near painful intensity. "I´m here..." he could hear himself call, directing the words at the shape ahead, still cautious, still uncertain, but hoping wildly. In his ears it sounded almost as if his voice barely belonged to him. Drawing closer the shape became clearer and, unable to fight it, Sinbad abandoned his caution and fell into a run.
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Post by Maeve on Oct 6, 2009 20:11:10 GMT -5
When the mist carried his voice again, Maeve was more than sure that she was going in the right direction, but suddenly, the shadow she was slowly heading at rushed to her. Slightly caught off guard by the swift movement, she stopped right where she was and her eyes went staring at the fog slowly dissipating to let a figure through. For a moment, the sorceress felt like shutting her eyes, too afraid to glance upon a silhouette that might very well turn out to be a simple illusion, but she didn’t have time to. Before she even knew it, he was there.
Maeve froze. She stopped feeling her body. She stopped breathing. Her heart stopped beating. Her mind stopped spinning. Her whole world stopped turning. The only thing the redhead managed to do was to stare at sea-blue eyes in utter shock and disbelief.
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Post by Sinbad on Oct 7, 2009 0:08:24 GMT -5
Sinbad didn´t have to make it far and broke his run after a few short moments, coming to a halt just a few steps away from her. He couldn´t sort in the look in her eyes, his mind and heart were racing to an extent where things like that had become impossible to detect and recognize. Still, something seemed to be reaching through his troubled and jumbled emotions and even though he couldn´t name what it was, it told him that the shape before him which he could see clearly now, staring back at him was no illusion, no trickery. Or at least that, even though he didn´t know whether she was real, there lay no evil behind her appearance.
For a brief moment he just stood there, dumbstuck, then he absent mindedly noticed that he had opened his right hand to reach for her, making the sword clatter to the ground with a dulled thud and nothing more. He made a tentative step, just as he still couldn´t believe what he was seeing, scared all of a sudden, so scared that she would vanish any second. But he couldn´t stop himself. Thinking didn´t matter. He closed the last distance between them and reached out for her, seeking to pull her into an embrace.
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Post by Maeve on Oct 7, 2009 20:49:04 GMT -5
When his sword hit the ground in a dreary clunk, Maeve snapped back to reality. Instantly, mixed up questions and thoughts and doubts flooded her mind like thunderous waters crashing down a ravine. The pressure in her head was almost agonizing as the sorceress frantically struggled with the fear slowly tightening in her chest.
He was so close... And his eyes were telling her everything she needed to know. The warmth, the goodness, the care, the longing, the hope…Everything that was probably reflecting from her own very gaze.
Except for the fear.
That’s what made her step back a little. Maeve was scared to death. When she glanced down at his hand outstretching to reach for her, a dreadful feeling flared up in the pit of her stomach. She was unbearably afraid to touch him, terrified he would crumble into dust as soon as her fingers would make contact with his. And even though deep down Maeve knew he was real, she simply couldn’t shake off the little voice inside her, frightfully warning her not to jump blindly in the arms of hope.
However, after what seemed like an eternity, swallowing hard, a lump in her throat, Maeve let her trembling fingers reach out for his.
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Post by Sinbad on Oct 8, 2009 11:27:03 GMT -5
There was fear in her eyes, beside a lot of other things, and that gave him a strange stinging pain in his chest - a pain that became all the worse when she shrunk back from him. His thoughts were swirling too much, an uproar of a multitude of thoughts and confusion, too lost and bewildering to clearly set one thing apart from the other. Too remote to be able to think straight. But still, the fear in her eyes made his heart ache. Why did she fear him, he wondered for a moment, before his confused mind came up with the same solution to that question that he had found for himself but a moment ago. Because she feared the same as him? That this was just an illusion? A tiny spark of hope started fighting feverishly, somewhere where it had long been buried.
His sword lay on the ground, mists swirling around it like curious things wondering why that stranger had dropped his guard, but Sinbad didn´t even think of it any more. When Maeve reached for him he felt his throat tighten and unknowingly held his breath while his heart was pounding all the louder against his chest. It sounded strange in his own ears in the void they were in, but was more real than most of what surrounded them. But what was real was all that mattered. Things that breathed, that were warm, that one could touch. Their fingers, when they touched, testingly, scared that they would touch nothing but a mockery of thin air, were just like that. Something real. Warm. Breathing. No mere illusion.
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Post by Maeve on Oct 9, 2009 20:09:02 GMT -5
Flesh. That’s what her fingers grasped. It wasn’t dust or fog or derision. It was pure flesh. Warm, alive…and real. With relief slowly taking over and with her heart threatening to beat out of her chest, Maeve let her fingers intertwine with his, lingering on his touch. She could feel him again. In fact, it was as if he had just been dug up from the remote part of her memory where she had desperately tried to bury him ever since the night that had so unfairly separated them. And now that her fingers were longingly dancing with his, her mind was having trouble to keep up with everything.
However, after a moment, the sorceress looked up to meet his gaze and noticed the small glint of pain in his eyes, hiding behind a veil of many other emotions that Maeve’s still dazed mind couldn’t sort out precisely. But she saw the pain her frightened reticence had caused and she immediately cursed herself inwardly. They had both been afraid, but she had been the foolish one to let it show.
Maeve opened her mouth to speak but when nothing came out except for a muffled choked sound, she wrapped her arms around his neck and embraced him fiercefully, hiding her watering eyes from him. She didn’t know why. She didn’t know how. And she didn’t care. She simply decided to believe.
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Post by Sinbad on Oct 10, 2009 9:31:47 GMT -5
When she slung her arms around his neck, it was as if some inner barrier broke. His fear, his uncertainty forgotten, Sinbad returned the embrace immidiately and hugged her close to him, pressing his eyes shut, not even attempting to calm down his wildly, nearly painfully beating heart. He didn´t wonder how it had come to this, didn´t wonder where he was anymore, because the thought was remote to him right now and didn´t matter at all. What mattered was not the unrealness of this place and its mists, what mattered was only how real all the rest felt: her warm form, the tickling sensation of her fire red hair against his face, her scent. He couldn´t think, didn´t want to think, just held her close, one hand resting between her shoulders, the other absent mindedly trying to hug her even closer to him, buried in her hair. She was here. She really was. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.
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Post by Maeve on Oct 17, 2009 15:33:50 GMT -5
She clung to him, her fingers forcefully digging in the fabric of his vest. Shutting her brown eyes tightly, Maeve refused to gaze at the tormenting fog tauntingly winding around their bodies like vicious snakes. The mist aroused too many questions to which she didn’t have the answers so she brushed them all aside and held on to the only thing that seemed and felt real enough to her: him. The sorceress silently pleaded for time to freeze, wishing to lose herself in his scent and his strong embrace because she knew that if the world began turning again, there was no way on earth she’d be able to let go of him. God, how she had dreamed of this moment. She lost herself in his arms, in his scent, in all the memories that flooded her mind. He was there. In all the craziness and mysteries of the place, he was there. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.
Maeve realized that their hearts were hammering like crazy against their chests and then something dawned on her. The mist.
She opened her eyes and stared at it, almost hypnotized, as all the pieces of the puzzle stumbled down into place. “This is a dream...” She said it out loud without even realizing it, her voice close to a whisper and tainted with a lucidity she thought she had lost within the fog. Loosening her grip on her captain, she stepped back a little only to be able to lock eyes with his, her hands now resting on his arms. Frowning, unable to hide the little glint of sadness in her gaze, Maeve repeated with the same soft voice: “This is a dream…”
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Post by Sinbad on Oct 17, 2009 16:22:21 GMT -5
Without her words, Sinbad would have kept straying through the fog - quite literally. Untrained and unaccustomed to practicing magic, his senses less attuned to things unusual and unreal (or less real), he would not have come to this realisation on his own - just like most mortals use to accept dreams as something real. Nothing to be questioned.
But now that she said it, her words echoed in his mind like the most terrible thing that could be said and he felt another pain add to what he was feeling right now, another something thrown into the jumble of emotions that threatened to overcome him. And his first reaction was to shake his head. Stubbornly, like a boy who was unwilling to accept something that his parents insisted on, the refusal in his eyes for a moment fully returning him to be the man he had been before Maeve had left. Someone who would banter with her and defy her just to see who would have the upper hand in their little games, even though this ran far deeper now.
"It can´t be." he said, his voice sounding strange to his own ears. Her touch was lingering on his arms and he concentrated on that feeling, forcing himself to focus. Did dreams feel so real? He came to the conclusion that his senses were wide awake and that his usual dreams (the few he tended to remember) felt different. And his stubbornness insisted to build on this difference. "This feels too real." He turned his hands so that his palms were now showing upwards, gently grabbing the underside of her arms as if to find evidence for his words. "My dreams never feel so real, so I must be awake."
A handful of half lost dreams came to mind and these few all had the same ending. Maeve floating away before he could reach her or being unaccessable, not even in sight, her voice drifting over from somewhere. But this was different. Here she was now, standing right in front of him and he told himself feverishly that she felt, smelled and looked too real to be a dream of the sort he knew and that determination fought a hard battle to keep down his doubts.
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Post by Maeve on Oct 17, 2009 19:44:15 GMT -5
Maeve shook her head sadly at his stubbornness. The fervent hope and denial displayed in his eyes touched her deeply but the ache that stirred up inside her heart stung way more painfully. The redhead didn’t want to face the hurtful truth either, but everything inevitably led to the same cruel conclusion. That they were simply dreaming and that none of this was truly really real. She lowered her eyes, her mind frantically racing to find a way to explain everything without shattering his last hopes.
Shivers ran down her spine as she felt his hands move along the back of her arms. His voice, filled with the keen passion of an obstinate child crushed what was left of her strength. Anger burned inside her, mixed with a choking feeling of helplessness. Why was this happening to them? Why did the mist have to lure them here so maliciously?
Shaking her head once more with her eyes still riveted on the spot where his heart was, she spoke calmly: “You only think you’re awake.” Then she forced herself to look at him, slowly lifting her eyes to meet his even if everything was breaking inside her with every word she pronounced. “But you’re not.” Pausing for a moment, Maeve sadly glanced around them at the thick fog snaking away endlessly in the realm. “Your mind simply wandered here, leaving your body for the night.” Then her gaze found the ground again. “Just like mine.”
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