09-14-2016, 01:31 PM
An old friend? Jon wondered why he'd never run into the girl before, or why Nimeda hadn't revealed her sooner. Besides, Mara was young, practically still a child, it seemed. Although appearances could be deceiving. The gil seemed to have a grasp on the nature of this place, changing her garb with conscious thought. Another spirit walker, then. Did she mean that she'd seen the archway in the waking world? Or here, in the Spirit World? Fascinating. Yet another mystery uncovered in this place. Nimeda was full of surprises.
"No, I haven't seen the other you again,"
he said to Nimeda. "I wish I knew why she wasn't sleeping well. But in the waking world I'm very far away."
Jon thought back to the incident on the train with a shiver. The girl that had been taken by the sickness. "She seemed uncertain of herself -- her powers. Afraid. You, but different than you. Things have changed in the waking world. She doesn't have to hide. She can get help."
Hopefully, at least, she didn't have to hide. There was still the Atharim to contend with. But she was as exposed to them without help as with, and he was certain that there would be civilians coming out to the open. "Maybe there's a way you can communicate with her. It's important. You can't exist here without her in the waking world."
At Mara's mention of the horses, Jon regarded the statues. There was an old Navajo tale of the Sun God carrying the sun across the sky on the back of his many-colored magical horses. Sometimes he chose the blue horse, sometimes the pearl one. But on days where the storms came, he chose the ones that were red or black. Jon never cared much for the Sun God stories. The Sun God sounded like an unforgiving despot who deserved to be struck down by Coyote. But was the Ascendancy's choice of colors here perhaps a portent of a storm still to come?
"What do you like about them?"
he asked Mara, his curiosity piqued.
Edited by Jon Little Bird, Sep 14 2016, 01:32 PM.
"No, I haven't seen the other you again,"
he said to Nimeda. "I wish I knew why she wasn't sleeping well. But in the waking world I'm very far away."
Jon thought back to the incident on the train with a shiver. The girl that had been taken by the sickness. "She seemed uncertain of herself -- her powers. Afraid. You, but different than you. Things have changed in the waking world. She doesn't have to hide. She can get help."
Hopefully, at least, she didn't have to hide. There was still the Atharim to contend with. But she was as exposed to them without help as with, and he was certain that there would be civilians coming out to the open. "Maybe there's a way you can communicate with her. It's important. You can't exist here without her in the waking world."
At Mara's mention of the horses, Jon regarded the statues. There was an old Navajo tale of the Sun God carrying the sun across the sky on the back of his many-colored magical horses. Sometimes he chose the blue horse, sometimes the pearl one. But on days where the storms came, he chose the ones that were red or black. Jon never cared much for the Sun God stories. The Sun God sounded like an unforgiving despot who deserved to be struck down by Coyote. But was the Ascendancy's choice of colors here perhaps a portent of a storm still to come?
"What do you like about them?"
he asked Mara, his curiosity piqued.
Edited by Jon Little Bird, Sep 14 2016, 01:32 PM.