LargerTheGroup[continued from Three Blind Mice, See How They Run and Bewitched, Bothered & Bewildered] Cole stood up, squinting, to get a better look. As the figures rose and started toward the balcony stairs, he smiled and waved, calling out, "Hi, Gillian! Who's your friend?" Gillian cringed at the loud noise. "Shhhhh!" she shot back, waving her arms for emphasis. She glanced back at Temnal apologetically. He just nodded, agreeing with her instinct for silence. He felt conspicuous enough as it was. At least Gillian seemed to know these other visible people. She quickened her step, wanting to reach the comfort and safety of a larger group. Temnal easily kept up with her. As they approached, the group in the front row were able to get a better look at him: a tall, slim figure with very dark skin, pale hair, and eyes that glinted gold. "This is Temnal," Gillian pronounced in a low voice, indicating the dark-skinned young man following her. "Temnal, this is Raina and Joao, and the tall one with the loud voice is Cole." "A pleasure," Raina replied automatically, though under the circumstances, it was probably anything but. She was a petite girl, with big green eyes and straight, dark hair. As the world continued to fade, she moved closer to the silent young man standing next to her, holding his hand for comfort. Outside the windows, the world appeared to fade into fog and shadow. No, that wasn't entirely true. It was more like the entire auditorium was falling through clouds. Staring too long at the windows gave the viewer an unsettling sense of vertigo. "What the...?" Gillian drew her gaze from the windows and reached out to Ginger through their link, worried for her familiar. As she reached out, she found her mouth fill with fish head grease. A wave of endless bliss clouded her mind, as if Ginger were stuck in a moment of pure ecstasy. No thoughts, just this singular emotion and taste sensation frozen in time. Gillian could almost feel the bones crunching between her teeth. Once they were close enough, Cole grinned and stuck out his hand for Temnal to shake. "Pleased to meet you," he said," even under these unusual circumstances. Not from around here, are you?" Temnal clasped the offered hand and confirmed, "No, I'm a transfer student from the Courts. Temnal nov'dy Chanicut." He looked around at the small group and added questioningly, "Miss Talbot said something about a ... 'Dark Hour'?" Raina regarded him, wide-eyed. "Yes, but it's not like this. It usually happens at midnight. But... it has to be related." She glanced around at everyone else. "Wh-what else would we have in common?" Joao moved to Raina’s side, remaining silent as the women – properly – took charge of the stressful situation. He leant his calm support to Raina as best he could. This composed focus helped him ignore the unnerving view outside. Replying to Raina's question, Cole said, "We're in this room, for one thing." He looked around. "Who else do we know that's Awakened? I know one other person, but I don't see him." "Awakened? That has connotations that it's a superior state. I'm not sure I agree with that," Gillian muttered, looking around nervously. "Who else?" "Um... I'm not sure if I'm supposed to say," she glanced back apologetically at Joao, "but under the circumstances, perhaps I should. Does anyone know Rusalka Cardovan? She's... like us." "I'm acquainted with her," Temnal volunteered, not sure what else he should say. "I know her as well," Gillian said. "Cole, who are you talking about? Rusalka's not a him." "Astute as always, Miss Talbot," Cole agreed. "And if 'Awakened' sounds too highbrow, then consider it some small compensation for having things trying to kill us that ignore everyone else. Besides, I didn't come up with it." He nodded at Joao. "I don't know Miss Cardovan. But there's a gent on my fencing team, name of Barimen, that also suffers our peculiar affliction." Temnal arched an eyebrow. "Barimen? Isn't that the royal family?" "Some distant relationship, maybe," Cole replied. "I haven't asked. None of my business." "I think the fact that he's experiencing this affliction as well makes it our business," Gillian replied softly, in an attempt to take the sting out of what could be construed as a snarky reply. She hugged herself. Raina nodded in full agreement. "Whatever our differences, they don't seem to matter now," she said, looking around at the bleakness nervously. "Has anyone seen Miss Cardovan or Mr. Barimen yet today? I wonder where they are and if they are experiencing this as well." "I haven't spotted Rusalka," said Temnal, "and she does stand out a bit." He said this in the matter-of-fact tone of one fully aware that he too tended to stand out in a crowd. As they spoke, each student became aware of a distant tap-tapping noise. It grew louder until finally the double doors to the auditorium swung open, the sound remarkable in the dismal silence. Two figures stood there, backlit by a vertigo-inducing nothingness of clouds and streaks of light. The first was a platinum blonde woman in a dignified blue dress suit, a leather tome tucked at her side. Even without her high heels, she stood as tall – if not taller – than Cole. She carried herself with a crisp professionalism; keen golden eyes studying the group. In complete opposition, the old man beside her hunched over a walking cane. He wore a tuxedo with a white handkerchief in his lapel pocket. Stark white hair ringed his otherwise balding head. Bat-winged eyebrows curled over his rounded, nearly iris-less eyes, twitching as if preparing to take flight. However, his most outstanding feature was his nose – more of a stabbing weapon than an anatomical structure. They slowly made their way toward the group, the old man’s cane tapping on the marble floor. “Eh! Er! Right! What’s all this then?!” he suddenly sputtered. Cole bowed and addressed the newcomers. "It's Prince Benedict's commencement address. At the moment, however, we're experiencing some audiovisual difficulties. May I be of assistance?" Gillian swallowed and took a step away from Cole. Temnal seemed more than happy to let Cole take the lead, while regarding the oddly assorted pair with intense curiosity. Raina giggled nervously at way Cole stormed through the encounter as if it was the most normal thing happening. She studied the pair as she awaited their answer. Joao stood beside Raina, perplexed by Cole’s bold, if confounding, behavior. The old man stared down his blade-like nose, fixing Cole in his unnerving gaze. “Eh? What? Bollocks! My grandson doesn’t talk. He’s a mute that boy. And a poor dresser. How many shades of black can one man wear? I ask you. Eh?” The woman coughed politely, “Sir. Our time is short. Perhaps we should proceed?” “Eh? Ah yes, yes. Always to the point, Mirelle.” He gestured at the woman with his cane; the silvered unicorn’s head flashing in the harsh light. “She’s a blessing this one. What! Would have lost my mind years ago if it wasn’t for her. Mrmhrm.” “Sir,” Mirelle pushed. “The point at hand?” “Yes, yes. What!” the old man stared at the group impatiently. “So?! Turn around. Let’s get a good look at you. See what this batch has to offer.” Cole looked at the others, shrugged, and did a slow rotation, hands raised, palms forward. "I'm Cole, by the way," he said as he did so. "Nice to meet you, Lady Mirelle. Sir, I'm afraid we haven't been introduced." Mirelle acknowledged Cole’s existence with a mere blink of the eyes. The Old Man, however, gave Cole a more through examination, staring down his nose with keen interest. “Mrm-hrm. What! Most curious. Yes. Yes. Indeed.” "She's King Random's sister, according to Reynaud's Genealogy," Gillian piped up, her eyes wide. "The same sister that...um...died while walking the Pattern." Mirelle turned her gaze on Gillian, her gold eyes betraying the cold alienness lurking behind them. "But this Mirelle is taller and...um..." Gillian ducked her head and stepped closer to Temnal. Temnal glanced over at Gillian, then back at the old man. "And if Prince Benedict is his grandson..." he murmured. At the same time he couldn't help wondering about the phrase "this batch." "Yes. Dworkin," Gillian murmured back. Temnal's eyes widened. He'd heard stories... Extremely varied stories, at that. Joao regarded the pair for a moment more, and let his peripheral gaze look to Raina and Gillian. The protocols here were maddeningly confusing. Either the women should have introduced themselves before Cole, or, if one proceeded in increasing rank, then they would be introduced last. The two figures did not seem to be patient for such niceties. He gave a nod to Gillian and Raina, stepped forward a pace and bowed twice. First to the taller woman, of course, and then to the older gentleman. "I am Joao Galitzin of Rebma. Ma'am. Sir." he added. "My learned friend." he made a slight motion of the head toward Gillian "tells me, Ma'am, that you are the Princess Mirelle. I am honored to meet you." He then looked toward the man. "However, like my friend Cole and perhaps the rest of us as well, my education has negligently failed me in recognizing you, sir. May you close this lacunae in the reef of my education?" “What! Lacunae? I think this model is broken, Mirelle,” the Old Man said, scratching his nose angrily. “The Conduit is of Rebman genealogy, sire,” Mirelle sighed. “It is asking you for your name.” “Indeed? Ha! Most peculiar. Adds spice to the mix, eh, what?” The Old Man chimed. He looked up at Joao and then bowed his head with a flourish, “I am the Destroyer and the Creator, boy. The All-Father. The Alpha and the Omega. Wōđanaz . The Great Eye. He Who Is Everything and Nothing. But you may call me. . . Bob.” Mirelle gritted her teeth. Joao blinked, uncertainly. Temnal stepped forward and addressed the old man. "Your pardon, sir. Are you saying you are responsible for..." He indicated their surroundings with a gesture. "...this? What do you want with us?" "And what do you mean by 'model'?" Raina asked timidly, emerging cautiously from the place she chosed behind Joao. Joao's hand, for support, briefly brushed Raina's back as she did so. In the aisle behind them, a ghost began to take shape. A wisp of grey and smoke at first, it soon solidified into a pink-haired girl; the young Rusalka Cardovan. The Old Man turned in her direction, Ah-ha! I knew I’d left the Coral Conduit around here somewhere. Woot! Like pocket lint, you always turn up. Eh? What!” Temnal turned also. "There's Rusalka!" he exclaimed. Raina, who knew Rusalka as an acquaintance from dance productions past, looked her over with new eyes now that she was aware of her Dark Hour past. Joao turned his head in the direction Temnal, the Old Man and Raina indicated. When Rusalka saw the old man, she flinched and her hand rose instinctively in the direction of her eye. After a moment of breathing she turned on him with an expression that was extremely unfriendly. It was not an expression any of them had seen before. "Hello Temnal, Joao, Raina, Gillian." She tried to smile at Cole, failed. "I don't believe we've met. Are you all in the middle of finding out what's going on here?" Joao smiled and bowed his head toward Rusalka in friendly greeting. He was ready to speak, but Cole spoke first. "I sure hope so," Cole replied with a smile. "As I was just saying, I am Cole. Pleased to meet you, Miss Cardovan. It appears that you know everyone else, with the possible exception of Lady Mirelle here. I see you've already met Bob." He glanced up at Prince Benedict. "I do hope we're not causing too much of a disturbance at the commencement. Mom would be pissed if I got thrown out on my first day." "While I think someone like Gillian would be better able to speculate than I," Joao said, "I suspect, Cole, that we are in an effect similar to the Darkest Hour itself, and these events are only occurring for us." Joao turned to look at the Old Man. "Am I correct Sir?" He looked at Mirelle. "Ma'am?" he asked. Mirelle stared through Joao for a moment, as if assessing how such a creature could form coherent sentences. She gave an exaggerated sigh, “It is doubtful that the Conduit could understand the intricacies of folding of Pattern-Space, so I shall not overburden it with a full explanation. However, your simplest answer would be to the negative. The effect is roughly similar; however, your Shells remain in Shadow.” Her golden eyes turned in Rusalka’s direction, “Which may pose difficulties for the Coral Conduit.” ‘Bob’ laughed, “Oh yes. Most indeed. What? Dreadful to think of what horrible things could be happening to it. Eh. What?!” Mirelle, “Sire. Please?” Bob grumbled, “Yes, yes. To the point. Welcome to the world between my dreams and reality, mind and matter. Not that they are very dissimilar, eh? I've summoned you here as you all signed the Contract. Now it is time to fulfill your promise. What? But for now you are all weak. Except the Coral Conduit. I smell its power. But for the rest of you, with time and external stimuli, your manifestations will grow. Oh yes, indeed. Yes, yes. Hardship will equal power, yes? Eh? But time marches forward and you have little of it. One year, in fact. No more.” Joao blinked his eyes in surprise and very incomplete understanding. He looked toward Raina, Gillian and Rusalka for one of them to respond first. Gillian looked around Temnal's shoulder. "Signed the contract? What contract?" she asked indignantly. "And what will happen in one year?" "I don't remember that Rusalka - as you call 'the Coral Conduit' made any contracts or deals with you, sir," Rusalka said slowly, biting off her words. "And what power we possess is not at your disposal, not until you explain yourselves as if you were talking to sentient beings and not to game pieces. In the meantime, hopefully, they'll just think my body fainted, or something..." She had begun strong but she ended weak, glancing behind her and letting out a worried sigh. Cole remained uncharacteristically silent. He simply walked over to the stage and sat on the edge, dangling his feet, and waiting for the smarter people to explain what was going on. And he wondered where Cynwyd was. Joao relaxed slightly, with Gillian and Rusalka giving response. While Princess Mirelle might have the right of speaking to him in that way, the Old Man did not, and neither had the right to speak to Rusalka, Gillian and Raina that way. It wasn't right. "Explanations, and speaking to us all as more than pieces on a Shakmaty board, would be appreciated." he said. "What contract do you speak of?" he added. "The Darkest Hour, and the strange Reflections, like Coral did to Rusalka, came to us unbidden." Mirelle unlocked her grimoire with an annoyed sigh. She wet her fingers and turned several pages. “He’s speaking metaphorically.” “Am not!” Bob protested. “Blood is blood. And contracts are contracts. Yes, yes. What!” Mirelle ignored him, “To put it mildly, your very existence hinges on the whims of my grandfather. And yes, I am speaking literally.” She allowed that rancid nugget to settle in the collective belly before continuing. “By conscious or unconscious thought, he chose you to serve as his vessels – so to speak - during this approaching occultation. Whether or not you recall the moment this agreement was struck with him is inconsequential.” Bob interjected, “Blood was spilled under a greenish moon. Even the one without a moon. No moon, two loons, and a dance in June. Eh! What! Most terrible night for all. Sins begotten of sins. Highly entertaining though. Very curious to see what will happen this time. Yes, yes.” Raina paled at the reference to the dance. Her hand tightened in Joao's. Joao offered Raina a brief, poignant reassuring glance, and returned his attention fully to Mirelle and 'Bob'. Mirelle tapped a page in her book. Those close to her could see only empty, white pages, utterly devoid of any marking or text. “The contract – as he puts it – states only that you assume responsibility for the choices you make in the coming year. Nothing more, nothing less.” She closed with a snap. “Indeed! Indeed!” Bob laughed merrily. “Can’t see beyond that point. Most peculiar. Should be anxious. What. Curious instead.” Temnal was silent. He didn't know about the others, but he did know very well there was a gap in his memories of his past... one that might very well correspond with the interruption of his life line that Ilona had detected. He revered his Lady as his rescuer, but what bargains She might have made on his behalf he could not know. "I don't suppose," Cole drawled, from his seat on the edge of the stage, "that we could actually see these contracts that we signed but know nothing about." He stood, and began to pace the edge of the stage. "We have nothing but your word that they actually exist. And even if they exist, we don't know the terms. For example, most contracts are an agreement between two parties for some mutual benefit. You haven't mentioned at all what we are supposed to get out of this arrangement, or why we agreed to it." “That you exist indicates your complicity,” Mirelle said, as if this were obvious. Seeing continued perplexed looks, she sighed. “At some point in your recent past, you gained the attentions and blessings of my grandfather. I can say no more other than that you owe your lives to him. I wish I could say more.” “There are rules,” Bob chimed in. “Even for the likes of uuuhhhsssss. . . “ His eyes began following a random dust mote and he was lost again, muttering to himself. "And what is an 'occultation'?" Temnal put in. Mirelle smiled thinly, “I shall answer that in a moment.” "Begging your pardon, Your Highness, but wouldn't we be responsible for our choices whether we had a contract or not?" Raina asked timidly. Her parents had always taught her that a person held the ultimate responsibility for one's own actions. Rusalka, too, looked pale, but she had done so since 'Bob' started to speak. "For our own actions, yes, but if our existence depends on our friend here, then surely our presence in that... hour in between... does as well. And I... may not have a year." She smiled sweetly at the old man. "Would that ruin your enjoyment?" Gillian looked at Rusalka with concern. Temnal did also. Joao sent Rusalka a glance of uncertainty and then returned to look at the two figures. His free hand went under his chin, the knuckle of his index finger crooked and supporting his chin as he regarded them and awaited the answers. Bob came out of his fugue and offered Rusalka a fatherly smile. “Oh, it isn’t mine. You are, but not it, what? Eh. No, no. Certainly not mine. From my blood, yes. But not mine, oh no.” He pulled on his nose, making it vibrate. “The Coral Conduit is precious. Would hate to see it burn. Terrible, most terrible. Would seem like an eternity as the flames consume and erase. And then what? No, no. What? Much prefer she avoid this. Not for fun, but because we like her so.” Mirelle took a breath, hoping to call attention back to her. “In answer to your associate, in its simplest terms, an occultation is an event that occurs when one object is hidden by another object that passes between it and the observer. In this instance, a separate reality - the Dark Hour, as you call it – that eclipses this region of Creation. My grandfather senses its existence like tiny holes in his thoughts; a realm which he cannot and has not been able to observe. Normally, the effect is localized and dramatically short. “What troubles us is that he cannot see beyond one year’s time. There is. . .” “Nothing!” Bob giggled, clapping his hands together. “Only silence. Blessed silence. Most curious, what?!” Mirelle shivered. "And you believe that the Dark Hour is--will--be responsible for this?" Gillian asked. Joao gave a small nod of the head. "So the Dark Hour is hidden to you, but it is not hidden to the likes of us? As Gillian suggested, is your foretelling, sir, a suggestion that in a year, the entire world will be covered by it?" Mirelle nodded, “It is our belief that the Dark Hour will result in some unfortunate and permanent. . . event. Yes.” His body shaking with excitement, Bob clutched his fingers close to his chest like a mischievous child. He then threw his hands outward violently, grinning. “BOOM!” Much to Mirelle’s embarrassment, he continued to make a random sequence of exploding noises and wet raspberries. Raina jumped at the exclamation. After squeezing Raina's hand for support, [Joao] then looked at Mirelle. "Milady Mirelle, are you similarly blind to the Dark Hour? Are there others besides us gathered here who can sense it?" Mirelle unconsciously clutched her book to her chest. “I am similarly blind to this phenomenon,” she said, leaving something out of the explanation. “And yes. There are other Conduits from what my grandfather informs me. He can sense them peripherally.” Cole leaned on the podium as he tried the follow the thread of the conversation, having apparently forgotten the prince silently orating behind him. Temnal continued to regard the pair intently, awaiting the answers to the others' questions before posing any more of his own. As did Raina. When Bob mentioned his concern to her, Rusalka raised an eyebrow, but the venom had gone out of her expression. "Sorry to beat a dead horse, but you won't help then, with the burning?" She shrugged. "Fine. I'm sure I can handle it. On to the silence. Have you ever felt that experience before, of anything being hidden from you, except during what they're calling the Dark Hour?" Bob gave Rusalka a gentle smile, “Won’t have to help. Don’t help, eh? Always there, but forever outside.” Mirelle opened her mouth to speak, only to be hushed as the dwarfish buffoon clenched his hand tightly. She clutched at her throat, as if trying to pull the words free; helpless. Bob stared up at Rusalka, for an instant, the madness disappearing from his eyes to reveal the alien and vast intelligence lurking behind them. The corner of his mouth curled up, “In the Time of the Serpent. When the Crawling Chaos ruled. Before the First City. Before I stole you and shaped the World from the Formlessness.” "Why do we have dead royals in our heads?" Gillian asked bluntly as she looked around Temnal's shoulder. "And that is what you mean by 'Conduit,' right?" “Dead?” Bob exclaimed. “Not dead. Not living either. Eh. Reflections of Reflections. Strands plucked from the Tapestry and woven into hollow flesh. Heh. What?” He stabbed the air in front of Gillian, “Conduit. Vardøger. Fetch. Feel the storm within do you not?” Mirelle continued to struggle, clawing at her throat, her face turning the color of her outfit. Temnal glanced at her, startled. Was that the source of that strange voice in his head, as he stood outside the sealed door of his room? Raina cast a glance at Mirelle, concerned that 'Bob' was going to injure her. "Please don't harm her, sir. We need her to help us understand. What is it you need for us to do? Is there some way we can... counteract... the Dark Hour?" At Raina’s plea, whatever hold Bob possessed over Mirelle came to a conclusion. She greedily gulped for air, but made no move to verbally express the obvious spite she held for the old man. Her eyes met Raina’s for an instant, filled with gratitude. Bob ignored his pet, “DO? What do you mean do? I care not either way. You will do what is required. Eh. What? Silly fetch.” "Slay the Shadows," Temnal murmured. Rusalka was so fascinated by what was revealed in Bob's eyes that she could not look away and was for a moment unaware of anything else. Her lips formed the words 'stole me' and then she blinked hard and went back into the world of everyone else. She looked at Temnal. "The what? When you say Shadow you don't mean like a place... what is that?" "I'm not entirely sure," Temnal replied, "but that's what I was told. And no, not places. Beings, from what I can make out. Powerful ones." Joao furrowed his eyebrows and looked expectantly at Mirelle and Bob. Bob by now had taken to studying some unseen marvel within the wrinkles of his left hand. “The electrons dance. Swirl. Entropy cannot deviate their path, yet lives between. Harmony and discord. Order and chaos. Eternal.” Mirelle stepped forward, the last vestiges of propriety consumed by growing panic. “We haven’t much time remaining. I do not know why he has created you or how this weaving has resulted in your altered perceptions. But please, explore this realm that remains invisible to us. And do whatever you must, whatever that may be. I am sorry I cannot be more. . . forthcoming. Whatever these Shadows are, they sound like a suitable place to begin.” "Which ones are the shadows?" Cole asked. "Are they pretty much anything not locked up in a coffin?" "I don't think the term is quite so inclusive," Temnal ventured, "not in the way it was explained to me. If 'explained' is the right term," he added wryly. Although the boy in his dream had been somewhat easier to comprehend than "Bob," he reflected. "I was told that the principal Shadows number twelve." He gave Cole a considering look. "You look like you might be a big-sword sort of person," he observed. "Saber, actually," Cole replied. "I don't have any training with the big two-handed things." "That will probably work at least as well as a crossbow," mused Temnal. Gillian clapped her hands over her mouth as she looked at Temnal and Cole, her expression horrified. "No! You can't slay them!" "I am not adept with big swords." Joao put in, turning toward Temnal. "My weapons are more Rebman in flavor. It did seem, during the Darkest Hour, that my skill with them was improved..." He stopped, turning his gaze from Temnal to Mirelle. He gave a slight bow of the head to her. "I was witness, Lady Mirelle" Joao said "To Rusalka Naming and fusing with Coral. It was an accident, I happened to recognize Coral and spoke her Name." "I don't think it would have been enough just to know her name or have it spoken, or even to speak it aloud. I had to send it to her - I had to ask her, remind her of who she had been. Not all the memories were pleasant, for either of us. And it may be different, from... person to person." Rusalka looked around at the others. She could see nothing that they all would have shared, before the Dark Hour. It made her feel strangely lonely. Raina chewed her lip worriedly. "I think" Joao continued, with another squeeze of Raina's hand "that Raina also knows who her conduit is, although I don't think the process has gone as far" Joao took his free hand and gestured in a wave that included Cole, Gillian and Temnal and then thumped his chest. "These three, and myself, Lady Mirelle, are, I think, ignorant of the identity of the Vardøgers who lurk in mirrors and seek communion with us." "Can you tell us who they are?" Joao asked. "My brother!" Gillian exclaimed, interrupting Joao. She turned to Bob and Mirelle. "He was swallowed by the shadows! They can't slay them, or they will kill my brother's essence and he'll never come back to me. Tell them! Please! How do I get Jonathan back?" Joao looked alarrmed at Gillian's interruption and stopped speaking and looked to her. Temnal also looked at her with concern. Bob appeared preoccupied with his hand, “Sightless eyes. False disguise. Bloodstained skies. No rhyme or reason. Drawing past and present and future. Indivisible. Ever apart. Inked in blood. But the center cannot hold. The sacrifice of body cracking like a brittle shell. Nyx shall finally wipe clean all sins. Even mine.” Mirelle ignored him, focusing instead on Gillian. “We can sense the Hollow. Those who have been removed from the Pattern. Their Forms unwoven, but not destroyed. If your brother has suffered such a fate, perhaps he will be restored once this disruption to the Pattern is repaired. This Dark Hour you call it.” Bob began to giggle. It was not a happy sound. Mirelle’s eyes grew fearful. “I must end this before he degrades further. I am forbidden to speak the names. But I know that the very least he summoned the eldest brothers, the twins, and the martyr and the destroyer. That is all I can tell you.” Joao regarded Mirelle, eyes thoughtful. Each of the students felt invisible strings pulling at them, as if they were falling into a deep slumber. Ghostly voices began trickling out of the ether, just as the color began to bleed back into their monochrome surroundings. Cole decided that he'd rather not be on the stage with Prince Benedict when this--whatever it was--ended, slipped down and stumbled back toward his seat. Raina, looking distinctly frightened, wandered back and sat down heavily in her now-reforming seat. Joao waited until Raina returned to her seat before he moved. He gave a glance at Gillian and Rusalka before he retreated backwards toward his own seat next to Raina's, watchful and wary. "Perhaps we'd better return to our seats..." Temnal suggested to Gillian. The invisible strings became increasingly urgent in their pulling, until finally each of the group felt themselves grow light-headed and overcome with a stomach-twisting sense of vertigo. For those lucky enough to be in their seats – such as Cole and Raina – the effect was not as dramatic. For the others, however. . . |
