Sojourn

[Kolava]

The crystal, illuminated by heat, sizzled and faded from sight, leaving only a faint stain upon the ceramic bowl. The open flame was raised from the bowl, dancing upon the tip of that thin wooden stick. With a flick of that leather-bound wrist, the flame would be only a thin wisp of smoke that clung to the smoldering wood. Kolava turned and absently threw the stick back into the fireplace. His half lidded eyes wandered through the gloomy air of his room. He never bothered with too much light since he was, by nature, nocturnal and could see just fine in near darkness. Restraining the breath within his chest still, he stumbled past a few scattered books and settled upon his "bed," a simple wool cushion.

At last he released the tension of his chest, allowing that bitter vapor to expel from his barely opened jaw. Almost immediately, the placebo kicked in and he felt himself relax, sinking into the cushion as if he never needed to move again. Moments later, just as his eyes had finally slid shut, the true effect of the vaporized crystal took hold of his body. A thousand thoughts were born at once: a symphony of questions and observations. As suddenly as they had appeared, most were lost; even for a mind as attuned as his, there existed a bottleneck for just how much activity could be perceived. He repositioned himself almost involuntarily, his tail gliding over the wool to tuck around his body. Physical sensations had already vacated him, so the myriad of thoughts spilling from the subconscious went undisturbed by this, or any other sensory input.

Two personalities swam through these thoughts, one content merely to follow the other. The latter was far more intense, bolstered by the metaphysical power of Ancient origin. The Somnambulus was relatively simple as far as ether circuits went, but its function and methods were still incomprehensible to anyone not versed in Ancient knowledge. Ironically, this included Kolava, who wore it around his neck. Despite not knowing exactly how it worked, the dominant personality still made good use of it. Brushing aside the trivial thoughts, it called to the surface the latent strands of Psionic power, each a testament to a previous meditation. As more and more of these strands gathered, the remaining thoughts became clearer and clearer, until soon there was enough distinction for the two personalities to visually manifest as figures in the mindscape.

They glanced to each other, exchanging nods. Around them flowed a dizzying flux: the visual representation of Kolava's mind. There was no up nor down, and where there should have been a horizon, there was only more "sky." The two avatars merely floated there weightlessly, their fur blown by a churning intangible wind. The lesser appeared much as Kolava did, though devoid of all the normal trappings he was usually spotted with. A look of nervousness seemed to dwell perpetually upon his features, even here in the safety of his own head. As the environment shifted and solidified, he responded by cringing very softly.

The greater avatar could also be said to resemble Kolava, but only superficially. Its fur was a scintillating yellow, and its deep eyes were so saturated with magenta that they almost seemed to drain the color from other things. This one, too, wore none of Kolava's usual trappings save for the Ghidighideli, which was affixed to its forehead. Into its chest was engraved a complex design of sweeping parallel lines that orbited the same point, but never quite intersected. It was the Somnambulus, free from its prison of blue silk.

"Where are we going?" inquired the lesser with an air of mutual respect in its soundless voice; its mouth never moving.

"Jutukalatomafon," responded the other simply, glancing off to the side as tendrils of the subconsciousness poured off into the inky void. "There is...business to attend to." The power to its presence was undeniable, it was an exterior act that could fool anyone into believing this being was ready for anything--anyone but its other half, who floated nearby and looked in the same direction. They feared Jutuk greatly, but knew that they could not let their fear stop them. Twice before had they made excuses not to go, but this time there was no turning back; the crystal had not come cheaply, and Miasmic conditions had never been better.

Back in the North tower, high in the rafters just below the golden ceiling, a dark dimple in the air rippled slightly. It was a Miasmic rift, a metaphysical pathway moored to the physical world to keep it stable. Kolava twitched, wrinkling his brow and squirming his legs as if having succumb to a sudden itch. His mind had been pulled like a piece of taffy, siphoned away from the comfortably finite Rhydin into maddening nothingness. For most, this would have been a one way trip to dementia; it was well past the "snapping point" where common minds would implode, leaving the individual as a drooling vegetable, never again to compose thoughts.

Kolava's mind, however, in all of its plurality, remained intact during his sojourn. Perhaps it was the collective psionic power of the Somnambulus and Ghidighideli shielding him. Perhaps it was the Miasmic rift, whose pathways had been worn smooth by previous travel. Much more likely, though, it was the fact that Kolava was far from sane to start with.

[Maggie_Draken]

::BLINK:: Wow.

[Kolava]

Deep within the mind, past the illusions of continuity that the brain creates to desperate explain away the crushing truth, lies a singular eminence. Much like the droning white noise of a broken speaker, or the echo of a distant cacophony, this eminence exists in a state of unchanging sameness that distinguishes it from normal causality. Though it is infused into every mind from birth, it is rarely noticed until it is gone; much like the transparent air that fills one's lungs.

Kolava had plunged outwards from this eminence, leaving behind the trembling bubble of an empty mindscape. He didn't actually move more then an inch, and, conceivably, one would be able to open his door and see him lying there, seemingly napping. But appearances were deceiving, and his journey was not one of the body. His physical shell was little more then bulky luggage to be left behind, though it remained autonomous; the heart and lungs continued to preserve vitality within it.

Around him (only one, as the two avatars had merged for simplicity) spun the groaning abyss of raw mental energy, heaving and roiling as if churned by the movement of a thousand thrashing limbs. In effect, it was; every single thought that surfaced from anyone in Goldenmyst ended up here, excreted into oblivion. No matter how many times he saw it, it still left him awestricken. Careful to keep his priorities straight, he ascended into the calmer areas of contemplation. This was a level few but the disciplined reached, so its currents flowed smoother and slower.

Flares of aquamarine penetrated the radiant darkness, belonging to the guiding rays of the Ghid as it sought out the rift. At their center was a point of light that was Kolava; in this place, a visual avatar was extremely difficult to maintain. Whispers, shouts, and all manners of incoherent mumbles echoed from the horizon, each belonging to a different thought, but he ignored them. He knew firsthand how easy it was to wander for hours at a time through them, savoring the sensations and basking in the intangible perfection of this place. It was dangerous, though, since it was possible to wander too far and not be able to return to his own mindscape, which sat abandoned somewhere in that abyss.

He didn't have to worry too much about wandering, because the Ghid was always there to keep him on track. Constructed of dozens of mind-fragments bound within a crystal the size of a fingernail, its psuedo-conciousness was the best friend a psion could ask for. Never did it question an order or fill Kolava's already crowded head with its unmerited opinions. It simply rested on his forehead, observing and noting anything that its owner might want to recall later. In addition to its abilities as a mental secretary, it also made for a useful navigator since it was able to perceive the tiny details that even the most trained mind would have trouble spotting.

Suddenly, all of those aquamarine flares locked onto a single point: the origin of the Miasmic rift. Kolava impelled himself to it by thought, as kinetic energy did not exist here. Now that it had been located and illuminated, its previously obscured features became quite obvious. Much like a hair-thin crack along otherwise perfect glass, it existed as a fissure in perception that neither Kolava nor the Ghid could discern the contents of. It was a common result of a Desial's rapid movements, though the normally temporary rift had been stabilized long ago by Kolava, for his own uses. Prior to luring the Nightmare, he could not have done this, for creating a rift of his own was beyond his abilities.

Reaching out with his amorphous glowing cloud of a body, he enveloped the rift and sank into it, ordering the Ghid to input the necessary information into the Somnambulus. Again, he wasn't entirely sure what happened or how, but he had become so practiced with the procedure after having been taught it that he no longer worried about anything going wrong. While it was true that this sojourn was a disorienting one, nauseating even, the fear Kolava held inside him was not for the travel, but for the destination: Jutukalatomafon, the city of the Hsarnate.

[Kolava]

A ping. Another three pings. A hum. More pings. These mental nudges was the only company Kolava had, having isolated himself to fully enter the rift. Helen Keller had nothing on this, for at least she could feel, taste and smell. The act of intentionally entering a Miasmic rift was much like tossing one's self into a tornado: it was pretty suicidal, but if one was desperate enough to travel and has some way to guarantee a semblance of safety, it may just be the only option crazy enough to work.

The activity of the Somnambulus continued; Kolava assumed the cryptic pings meant something, but since it hadn't come with a manual when he had stolen it, he could only guess what. He figured that, if it was truly urgent, the ether circuit would be a bit less subtle--and surely it would automatically stop before doing something unsafe? Kolava could only hope.

At last, the pinging gave way to a single glorious gush. "Gush" is truly the only word capable of capturing this nearly indescribably act, where the whole of Kolava's mind,--every thought, feeling, memory--was suddenly spilled forth as if having been contained in an opaque balloon which was ruptured. He shuddered, feeling having been restored to his newly reformed avatar. The slur of Goldenmyst's thought-voices was gone, replaced by the nearby chatter of a surrounding city.

Jutukalatomafon was only a "city" because the encroaching settlers wanted to think of it like that. In truth, the Hsarnate have no need for any form of economy, comfort, or culture, so calling their home a "city" would have been incorrect. The Hsarnate were automaton formed of Dreamstuff, silent beings of unknown origin and unknown power, whose motives are so veiled that few even acknowledge that the Hsarnate have any. Their only purpose seems to be guarding their home against an invasion that is never coming.

Thus, Jutukalatomafon. "Tomafon," from the Hsarnate "toma," meaning "city," and "Jutuk," which roughly translates to "imaginary", or "not real." The city was built in three layers, or "fanes," each one outside of the one before it. Not merely concentric circles, but spheres, since there was no horizon to guide any sort of level plane.

This lack of horizon is the first thing that most tourists notice. Not that Jutuk gets many clueless tourists, though. The second thing such a nonexistent tourist would notice would be the colorful bubbles, the dreamscapes, each clustered against the surrounding architecture as if built into the city itself. Instead of floating free, these "domestic dreamscapes" were stitched into the city and made permanent; they served many purposes, but mostly their interiors provided a bit of normality to this maddening city by resembling normal places.

Kolava had appeared on the outer fane, where all of the pathways in the nearby Dream funneled into Jutuk. This was where the marketplace thrived, driven by kitsune ingenuity at selling things that you couldn't actually hold in your hand. Other merchants, less adept at directly trafficking nonphysical items, simply used this district as a place to sell services. Bars, brothels, and mercenary headquarters could all be found in the clusters of buildings; the sort who dwelled here were as mixed as the dreams that flowed just outside of the city.

As Kolava made his way to the middle fane, where his destination lay, he observed the clusters grow closer together. Glancing around, he was immediately reminded of a bunch of grapes, with the inhabitants of this fane as insects crawling along the stems. He stood up dizzily, kicking away some of the colorful fog that crawled along every surface, held there by imaginary gravity.

His immediate concern was with appearance, since the entire city was like a perpetual costume party; anyone with any experience could alter their form almost at will. Eventually, he realized that his current state was socially acceptable, since much stranger things prowled the street of Jutuk then just animals. The thing he didn't want noticed, though, was the one thing a determined onlooker could use to pierce any outer guise: his aura. Quickly, he activated one of the more interesting feature of his Ghid: the aura veil. Technically, having an aura veil was illegal here, but Kolava didn't plan on getting caught. With fear-driven energy in his step, he took off down the foggy avenue in search of his destination.

[petepyroaer]

~OOC~
::Pops a expresso bean:: Well, I read it. Then I read it again in an attempt to understand it. The third time I understood the events, just not what the hell half of the stuff was. And then, I noticed there was more....

Lotta thought put into that,
Sadly, it's all wasted on morons like me.
Bleh.

------------
If I had a sig, it would go around here. However, I don't care that much...so instead you'll get this little bit of info, loaded with thought:
-me.

[Kolava]

Thank you for the feedback. It's nice to know that others enjoy understand read the things I work hard on. (One out of three isn't bad, I guess that makes it worth finishing)

[PaulAVincent]

I enjoyed it as well. I've always been a fan of your work, going back to the adventures you used to run. I thought you put alot of story and feeling into them, and that's why I've always enjoyed your writing. Sorry I hadn't posted feedback earlier, just got around to reading them all now (as I have a habit of doing).

[Kolava]

Excellent, Paul has two out of three; that makes me very happy. But did you understand it?

[PaulAVincent]

I'd like to think I did.

[Kolava]

The sun blazed a sparkling path across the sea's surface as it sank away into twilight. Overhead, shorebirds drifted in lazy circles, their calls to one another carried off by the warm wind. On the beach, a solitary figure reclined against a dune with a great smiling face framing his glossy eyes. Declano Reritan Gelepesu III was a savior, a villain, or just a lunatic, depending on who you asked. One thing all would agree on, though, was that he should not be reclining on a beach sipping iced beverages; but there he was on the beach, beverage and all. The kitsune, with his blue velvet trousers and heavy mantle was certainly not dressed for the occasion, but it was not as though any were around to comment. Or, so he thought.

Kolava padded to the top of the dune, intentionally kicking a bit of sand onto the kitsune's head. The anthropomorphic fox responded simply by frowning and placing his beverage down into a dip in the sand that served as a cup holder. Save for the surf and birds, that moment that followed was of utter silence. At last, that bamboo cane was lifted from the sand and used to help the kitsune to his feet. As his five tails shook themselves clean, he lay his midnight blue eyes upon the creature which stood before him. By the look upon Declano's face, it was clear he was full of questions, but only one was spoken.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Rhydin?"

To which, Kolava responded with equal simplicity. "Aren't you supposed to be in Carceri?"

The two questions were equally matched as far as being good questions. Ever since Kolava had disappeared from Orpheus, all who had since attempted to find him were met with dead-ends; his disappearance was as permanent as it was mysterious. Declano, too, had no place being here in Jutukalatomafon. For his entire immortal life he had been on authority's bad side, and only a few years ago he had gone overboard as the leader of a conspiracy to take over the entire planet using an Ancient Weapon. His plan had failed, and the forces he had manipulated and stolen from turned upon him, sentencing him to life in Carceri, the most feared prison on Orpheus.

The two stared, unable to compose a short answer to the other's question. Eventually, Declano laughed dismissively and moved across the sand with his drink towards a flat area where a table and one chair resided. He hadn't known he was going to be receiving a guest, but the subtlety of Kolava's entrance didn't confuse him; after all, he, as the previously owner of the Ghid, had been the one to install the aura veil in the first place. He sat on that chair, resting the glass upon the table and his cane upon his lap.

" Didn't I lock--" he began, thinking of the entrance to this dreamscape which he had barred with a spell.

"Yes," interrupted Kolava, glancing over his shoulder to the ripple in the air where he had entered; small motes of shattered energy still lingered from when he had severed them. The kitsune followed the creature's gaze and nodded understandingly. He didn't feel insecure about his spellcraft because he knew Kolava had been trained by him, and knew every weakness. With a flick of a tail he threw up a second warding spell to cover the ripple, his eyes darting to Kolava and staring, as if beckoning him to do something unspoken. Kolava understood but seemed hesitant to comply. Knowing that keeping the kitsune in high spirits would be more useful then adhering to old habits, he eventually gave a sigh and a nod, separating into his two distinct avatars.

"Ah, yes, good to see you two again." sighed Declano, his eyes lingering on the yellow-furred one whom he knew was dominant.

"I'm not Mirabile," it said, with a somber shake of its head. Declano bit his lip and looked between them.

"What? Then who are you?" he leaned closer, and it deactivated the aura veil so he could see clearly. "Oh..." he trailed off, dumbstruck. The auras of the two beings before him were one and the same; they were merely two instances of the same being. Now, it may seem strange that such a fact would trouble the kitsune this much, seeing as how the one being had obviously just created another form. But one must understand that the Somnambulus had been stolen to serve a single purpose: allowing two minds to coexist in one body. The body in question was Kolava's, but only one of the two minds was present. Reading the distress upon Declano's face and realizing what he was coming to realize, the brown Kolava churred sadly.

"If you are not Mirabile, then who are you? And where is she?" Declano demanded, losing his normally adamant "cool" for intense situations. In a sense, he saw Mirabile and Kolava as his children and this impostor as a disturbing twist on what he had worked so hard to create. The impostor Mirabile only stared back at him with a bitter expression on its face; it hated its existence, and knew that others did as well; this sort of self-view rarely leads to anything but the most corrosive of cynicism. The true Kolava, the unwarped personality that sat farther back on the sand, remained silent.

"I am Mirabile Nadir, carrier of the Somnambulus and protector of Kolava," it said. Declano's glare loosened a bit as he considered this; the Somnambulus had many terrible side effects and he was quite glad that the heart of Kolava's being had remained intact. This thing--this impostor--it was serving a good purpose after all by taking the Somnambulus's side effects.

"I see...and Mirabile, the real one?" he inquired, thinking back to the secondhand stories he had picked up about her recent appearances.

"She is gone. I don't know where." Nadir responded. It caused a stir in Kolava to have those words drawn from his memory(the same memory that Nadir and he shared); it made them seem too depressingly real.

"Alright." hissed Declano very slowly, bringing the details together. "So the recent sightings...they've been of you?" He nodded at the silence that followed, understanding it as a "yes." "Not only have you found your way back, but you've been making cameos in the guise of Mirabile...very clever, Kolava." There was a hint of pride to his voice, partly for himself at having figured it out, but mostly for his "son," to whom he had taught such shrewdness. His eyes found themselves drawn to the brown Kolava, the "real" one. He even went so far as to step past Nadir, giving it little more attention then a potted plant. It frowned at this, but there really wasn't much it didn't frown for, so its displeasure went unnoticed.

"We came all this way just to see you..." peeped the brown Kolava.
"To ask for your advice." finished Nadir in a stolid voice, speaking to Declano's back.

"And you were able to find me?" asked the kitsune with sudden concern for his safety. "I see now that I haven't been careful enough." he looked with caution to the entrance as if expecting the ward to be smashed down at any moment. Nadir, sensing an impending end to the conversation, asked again.

" Don't you have any advice? We came all this way just to--" it was cut off by Declano.

"And you shouldn't have...I shouldn't be here...neither should you," his voice was growing in urgency with every word. "We've been careless, let's cut our losses and get out of here before we're both captured."

His paranoid words were soon justified by a nearby pulse that all three felt. Kolava began to ask what it was, but was soon speaking to empty air; Declano had dashed to the entrance and Nadir had followed. The two burst forth through the foggy stone archway that connected to the avenue of the middle fane. Kolava followed as Nadir greeted him with a welcoming grasp and the two returned to a single avatar whose brown fur and intense stare showed that nothing but the outside had changed; the two personalities remained. The kitsune leapt into an alleyway, his mantle flapping with his sudden movements.

"Go back to Rhydin, you're safe there! Don't come back, and don't look for me again!" echoed his voice from the shadows. Kolava began to protest, but Declano had vanished. All around him he felt strange sensations, as if he was being watched. The Ghid was registering nonstop activity all around him, as if no less then a dozen were closing in. Shaking with fear, disappointment, and unanswered questions, the avatar dashed at full sprint back to the rift, and didn't stop to rest until it had left that insane city behind.

In the drafty, moonlit room of the keep's northern tower, the creature known as Kolava suddenly sits up, rigid as a board. Stumbling from his cushion, he grits his teeth and considers what transpired. The sojourn had been a risky, expensive, and ultimately futile exploit. His head pounded with a hangover, Declano and he were now being tracked, and he was no closer to ever seeing Mirabile again. All he knew for sure was that he needed some tea, so with stiff, awkward steps, he padded to the door and headed downstairs.