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“I’m awake I’m awake…” He grumbled, jerking up in a cold sweat. Some stupid noise woke him probably but it was all still hazy.

He crawled to his feet, rolling out of bed.

No walls – not solid ones at least. Just solid, blurry grey and blue lights. Blue light foxfire, shimmering softly. Everything so quiet, other than a soft hum like those cute, almost toneless hums small children hum when they have no song in their heads but they’re so happy they want to make noise.

This some kind of prank or test or whatever, he didn’t even think about it. He just wandered about hoping he bumped into somebody. He didn’t, but he found a small papery doll on the floor with blue button eyes ripped out beside it. As soon as he touched the buttons they faded between his hands.

For some reason – he didn’t know why – he determined to find a pair of eyes for the doll, so he picked it up and kept wandering forward. Maybe it was because the doll had silver hair, like Nathair.

Nothing happened for a bit, he just kept walking and wondering where the humming was coming from until he realized he was humming. It was some old lullaby she’d sing to him.

Another doll, and another.

Most of the gray dissolved into dim blue now. Mirrors like windows started to appear – all different sizes with no frames or anything. He touched one of the mirrors casting a crystalline reflection of…someone else.

At first he didn’t recognize the face. Sharp, angular with dark patches around his eyes that you couldn’t really see through the ragged matt of curls in his face. Taunt and poised like something agile prowling, his jaw stubbornly taunt. Ratty flaps of a brown, colorless surcoat, torn knees – the stranger looked just a little feral. Somebody he might’ve admired on the low down, just because they looked more wild and free than he could ever dream of getting away with.

Then, he realized who he was staring at.

He wasn’t…fourteen anymore. He couldn’t remember anything past that age.

He looked in the mirror again and it was just a boy. Wide curious brown-gold, almond-shaped eyes, a bit of an impish, crooked smile on the edge of his lips. No, it was just a silhouette and he couldn’t make out anything but a devilish sort of smirk.

Which one was he?

Was he anything?

The images kept switching and he couldn’t tell what was his reflection. It got darker and darker until he couldn’t see anything but black and the sickening devilish smirk. Alessio stumbled back away from the mirror even as it grew bigger. There were two blue orbs for eyes on the monster and the blue started melting down – filling the area.

Nonono this wasn’t – he wasn’t – he wasn’t there! Where the devil was he!? He retreated a step, and bolted down the shifting, changing, greying hall.

‘Eaziziun wahid’

“Nith – Nathair -?!” No, wrong name, why were they so similar!? (*writer is actually delighted by this “happy accident” – thematic parallels very goot*).

Alessio glanced around for his friend, his mind working to pinpoint the direction of the words. Then he darted down another hall after the sound.

By the time he made it he wasn’t sure who he was looking for anymore the faces and the emotions all blurred together – everything meshed together and it hurt he knew he was missing so much.

Going crazy, are we? Just like Father…

No telling how long he wandered the dreamy halls chasing shadows, but someone solid was ahead this time. Alessio flicked a knife into his hand before coming nearer – he only had the silhouette to go on. He knew better than to expect anything good, he was ready to fight this time, he’d make it out. His grip tightened just slightly on the hilt as the figure turned.

There was something behind the man – a stone chair maybe?

He darted a wary look at the figure, until he recognized the soft, thoughtful eyes, eyes warm with assurance…

“Nithel -!” He gasped, shaking just a little. He was missing something he was missing someth- Alessio barely heard a faint thud as the knife slipped from his hand as he clasped his arms around his friend as if…as if that would prove he was real.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I didn’t mean to lose you I’ll be better I’m sorry…” The words rushed before he could even think them, his fingers gripping tightly to any part of him he could hold so he couldn’t fade. It was hard to think of anything except he didn’t want to be alone he’d do anything to not be completely alone.

For a second he stopped breathing when he felt a hand on his head, pulling him closer. He almost tensed, but his body relaxed instead.

He wouldn’t have to fight for attention he wouldn’t have to be strong enough or witty enough. It would be ok, right now. For a small, blissful moment he didn’t feel any pressure to keep hiding to earn anything.

‘…’abni, even if you had murdered someone, I would not leave you…’

“Shh…don’t worry…” The voice was soft, almost eerily gentle. At first, he couldn’t tell why-

“I’ll –“ Oh. No. Oh nono no

“ – protect –“ The hand around him was steely tight.

“ – you.”

His breath hitched, trying to control his terror. The knife was on the floor. It was too late to play dumb he’d already flinched-Alessio jerked back despite his training. Nithel was saf-Nithel was safe!

He’d thought that before.

Shock thundered through his body as he stared into the face of his friend. All the features blurred together like a featureless doll. The walls melted into black globs. Runrunrun. Oh but those weren’t his childhood instincts, those were learned and his mind has regressed in the moment. He knew what was coming, and he couldn’t move.

The Necromancer’s face was what finally flickered on the form. Blue – crystal blue eyes – a kind’ve blue foxfire that melted out his sockets.

His grip was still tight as needles digging into Alessio’s back, sinking into his flesh. There were needles strewn across the floor, everywhere he scrambled back. Hot trickling blood seeped through his surcoat – that clicked.

Whatever happened after that was a bloody mess (read – writer’s too lazy to choreograph -)

Next thing he was aware of was standing over the limp form, dizzy and coated red. He turned to walk away, tripping on the needles across the floor. Then his eye caught the doll with the torn eyes again.

Mechanically, he bent over to pick it up and a sharp pain stabbed through his wrist, thin silvery metal protruding through bone, pinning him to the floor. With a strangled growl, he twisted back just as the form bashing him into the ground by his bloody shoulder – another shiny steel stiletto-thin point nearly impaling his face. Reflexively, Alessio snatched his opponent’s wrist trying to wrestle it out of his taunt inhuman grip.

It hissed, getting closer and closer as it pressed harder, the needle hovering directly above his eye. The features blurred even more, shifting again, face after face. He ignored it, gritting his teeth with the effort to not die. He had to focus, and he almost did, until he was staring at Nithel’s scared, concerned face…his expression when Alessio lashed out in the dark room right before they were separated.

Just a flashba –

In a split-second he realized his mistake as the needle went down.

With a scream, Alessio bolted upright, unmistakably waking up everybody in the room.

 

 

*Note: @ragnoak and I were describing each other’s costumes as we envisioned them to see how well our descriptions were working and somewhere in there I was like “What’s Alessio’s cloths look like, you think?”

Him: “Uh, mostly browns, maybe blues.”

Me: “Blue? Why blue?”

Him: “Idk, I mean just like here and there and if he wears blue at all it’s probably faded.”

Me: “Mmm” *Remembers all the blue symbolism I’d forgotten about…* That’s perfect! It’ll be horrible when he wears blue again!!