Across Infinity (Minibit x Lux)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by LuxGlyph, Sep 21, 2014.

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  1. There was something unbelievably, horribly out of sorts and Harrison was at a lost to what to do about it.

    He wasn't in the right place, he was sure of it. He'd never hallucinated before. He'd always been in his right mind, surely, and nothing made up, by mind nor magic, could ever paint such a vivid picture as what he was seeing now.

    It was... a city? At the very least it was a place made by intelligent design. Great structures rose up, fighting the skyline of deep and horribly hued blues for as far as his eyes could see. The ground was paved with coarse stone and.. and there were doors and windows and things that must make this place a city, and yet...

    And yet it was nothing like Harrison had ever laid eyes on before. This was not his home, nor his land, nor his.. his world. Even the sun and skies overhead were not the same. That ugly orange giant hung there, taunting him, mocking him from so far away. But it, by far, was not the worst of what Harrison had encountered when he came awake in this strange place. It wasn't the hard ground or strange buildings or dead, thorny courtyards and faceless statues. What was truly horrible about this place was the complete and absolute absence of life. The buildings laid still, the streets empty, light posts were off, and everything was so completely silent and still. Harrison had strained his ears, but he couldn't hear except his own, shallow gulps of air. Nothing. Not the distant sound of voices, the rustle of paper, the flap of wings, the soft hum of magic spells. Nothing. It made him want to scream his lungs out for some sort of answer.

    What could have cause this?


    Harrison had lead a fairly normal life up until a few... what? Minutes? Hours? Days? He couldn't quite tell at the moment, but the point of it was that he was meant to be average, just another face in the crowd. In fact, he had tried all his life to be that nameless face in the crowd, because.. well.. he really wasn't all that normal, comparatively.

    He was the second child and first son to Henry and Aviana Locke, a name earned for the generation of lock spell makers Henry was born from, and what Harrison had been expected to continue, until he was tested.

    No magic potential. That was the final reading when he had been examined at two. It read the same at five, eight, thirteen and at last at eighteen, but by then he was already quite certain of the fact and it really didn't bother him any longer. Oh, it had broken his parents hearts at first. After all, less than two percent of the world's population were like Harrison and it made things quite difficult. Everything was built so completely on top of the magic elements that nothing was left without. Lights, doors, clocks, trains, sky ships, newspapers, books, paintings, roads, even the precious locks his father took such pride in creating. Nothing was made without magic, so what might Harrison do instead, when he couldn't even switch on a light properly?

    But then Harrison's little brother was born and his parents breathed a collective sigh of relief. His father often joked that Davey got all the magic potential that skipped over Harrison, and that was fine. It made his parents happy, gave his father someone to train up and take his place in his prestigious line of locksmiths. Better yet, it took the attention off Harrison, and he.. well.. he got by just fine.

    At eighteen, his classmates were dividing off into trade schools. Off to learn the finer details of their chosen fields of study, while Harrison.. didn't. It wasn't for lack of trying, he wanted to learn, at least in theory, the laws and orders behind the strange force that was 'magic', but no trade school would accept him, and most ignored the letters he sent to them. It was disappointing, to say the least, but his brother was growing older, his elder sister already educated and living her own life, so he couldn't let himself sit and stagnate. He left his family, his familiar town, and moved to Lainiar, a grand and wonderful city filled with people who had absolutely no idea who he was or what his potential might be. He got by, working for the central library and earning enough for a small apartment in the library's upper floors. He made friends, survived the day to day, even took lovers. He kept house plants, and when he had the time he read the books about magic theory that he had been denied from the trade schools.

    He was average. He was happy. It went on for years!

    So what changed? How did he end up in this waking nightmare? The last proper chain of events he could recall began when he had to stay late organizing some of the books at the library. It began storm outside, the clouds rolling around and rumbling with pent up magic. Storms like that happened, on occasion, in areas with a large concentration of magic. He remembered being mildly miffed, because the weekly reports hadn't mentioned the storm and he had to go up to his loft to close the windows before the rain dropped.

    He hadn't been all that concerned, despite the predictions being off. The suppression spells never allowed the storms to get too out of control. Scary thunder, and some rain, thats usually all that happened when these storms rolled through. They had to go out to sea before the suppression spells ended and the nasty clouds could be as violent as they wanted. But.. that night something had happened. Maybe the suppressors broke, or were never activated in the first place, but this storm... it was a monster. The air buzzed with the chaotic magic stirred up by the lightning. It played chaos with the city spells. Harrison watched from his loft as the city's grid went offline, a great big dark blob flashed into life by the very lightning that had turned it dark. It rained torrents, filling the streets and turning them into little rivers. The wind rattled his windows and made the library creek and it only got worse and worse as the night wore on.

    But that was when things got a little fuzzy. Harrison remembered the sound of thunder growing louder, closer, and more constant. He remembered debris flying through the air, and distant, warbling alarms of warning. He remembered seeing fires lighting the dark city, and then lighting had struck the library. Entire sections of books were wiped clean in an instant, the magic drained, or filled to bursting until flames licked the papers and spread, dangerous and deadly. Harrison.. he thought perhaps he had tried to put out the fires. He must have tried, but everything felt so disconnected by then. He remembered flashes of confusion, of bright lights and.. and pain? The memories wouldn't quite settle in his head and it was maddening Because the next thing he knew, he was waking up in this dead place. Here in this empty prison, where the doors and the windows were a bit too big, and the buildings were strange and cold and twisted, and it was just so... so quiet! He was starting to worry that he might not be.. well.. alive.

    No, he better not start thinking about that. It made his heart rush and his lungs too tight. He was teetering in on shock enough as it was. His fingers and toes hadn't stop tingling ever since he woke up, he couldn't quite breath deep, and he kept feeling.. something.. deep down in his chest. He really didn't need to go into shock right now. He needed to... to think, he needed to find someone else, some food or water, or.. something. He'd been walking for... he wasn't sure how long. The sun didn't seem to move all that much, and it might have been an hour, maybe two, since he woke up - panic wasn't helping his sense of time. But he was most certainly lost - if he hadn't been already - and he hoped he would find something too. That screaming idea he had earlier was sounding better and better by the second.

    "Hello?" He yelled out, instead, deciding it was better to be progressive with his yelling. His hand pass through his dark brown hair, ruffling it carelessly as he looked around, "HELLO?! Is anyone else out there?" He tried again. Christ, "I think I might be dead.." He was still in his night shirt and pajama bottoms, for gods sake. He smelled slightly of burnt toast. Maybe he died in a fire - no.. no.. stop thinking about it. He'll find someone soon...
  2. Groaning, Simon awoke from the heaviest slumber he'd had in a long time. Sitting up, he raised a hand to his head; his blond hair had escaped from the ponytail it barely fit into to begin with, and fell in his face. Gritting his teeth, he rubbed his head as if the movement could relieve the pain from his rocky pillow. However, the young priest mused, checking his hand for blood and finding none, he didn't think the rocks were the cause of his blackout. This place was unfamiliar, dark, and full of an ominous, empty feeling; nothing like the wholesome hills of his home. Simon rubbed his forefinger against his temple, as if he could massage the missing piece back into his memory, closing his eyes in concentration.

    It was a sunny day, and Simon was sitting in the centre garden of his home in the shrine. It was quiet, as it had been for five years now, or was it six? He didn't remember it always being so quiet during his boyhood here; back when his mother still spoke in her warm, timid voice; cautioning him to study hard, not talk to strangers, and wash behind his ears. His father's voice, stronger than his fragile body, would ring out from his seat calling him to come study, or listen to the histories of their ancestors and the lessons necessary for when his office as Daedalus' attendant passed to his son as it had passed through the bloodline from his grandfather.

    "One day you find yourself a nice girl and tell your child these stories" he told Simon one night, over an old handwritten tome and a lit candle. "And someday that child will write their name in this book after yours, and mine." Simon had gaped in wonder at the yellowed pages as his father flipped through them, occasionally picking out a name and relating tales of when that Attendant had relayed the great Daedalus' warning of a cosmic storm, and saved their people from certain despair. Or of when this Attendant taught the people the lessons another world had ignored, and this prevented them from ending themselves.

    Through his childhood and into adolescence, Simon studied the history, arts, and sciences of the world by day, and come home from school and play to his Attendant Training at night. This world, he learned, was only one out of many thousands, kept safe and separate by the great God Daedalus, who existed outside the worlds in a place they called the Cosmos.

    Adalis, the world Simon lived on, was subject to frequent danger from the 'weather' in the cosmos; storms which occasionally rocked through the worlds. Many were impervious, some destined to be lost, and some, like Adalis, were meant to stand, and required shepherding.Centuries ago, Daedalus formed an alliance with Simon's ancestor, granting him a link with the deity, and a share in his powers of foresight and protection. This power and alliance had been passed down through many Attendants, down through the ages. It passed to Simon when his father died. Simon was nineteen; it was early fall, and he was sweeping leaves from the shrine entrance when everything changed. The death of his mentor was hard enough to deal with without also getting used to the awareness of a cosmic god in his mind.

    His mother took it especially hard, becoming completely withdrawn and refusing to leave her room. Simon cared for her like a small child; coaxing her to eat, to walk around, to wash her face. He passed his days this for many years, in the sad silence of an empty home, and he was passing the first warm afternoon of the spring thus, when he felt Daedalus cry out. He remembered standing up so fast his head spun. Daedalus was... Scared. A feeling he had never felt from the deity before, but he felt it now so strongly that his skin grew clammy and his palms wet with the same sweat that slicked his hair to his temples. The cries in his head became garbled, disjointed, mashed up with the perception of something fearful and menacing; with the images of worlds mixing, colliding, the order of each universe falling to chaos, and the repeated cry to help, help, Help!

    'How could I stop such a monster?' He pleaded, knowing the futility of his message even as it left him.

    Power, power, an ally, a champion, help, help! The power would be given, to one who could wield it; the image of an intelligent youth with dark hair. Help, yes, and power, get help!

    After that it was a blur; Simon vaguely recalled at some point in this interaction that rain began falling, big drops hitting his hands and head and dripping down to the soil below. He heard a thunderclap, saw the light fade from the garden as the sky swirled a dark grey. He saw a bolt of lightning strike the hills around the shrine, and then a blinding light, fire blazing through his bones.

    Still, he thought, opening blue eyes to scan his new, gloomy surroundings, he had a job to do, and it started with figuring out where he was. Straightening, he dusted off his loose white shirt and brown trousers, releasing small puffs of dust which dissipated into the still air. Sore and dirtied though he was, he appeared to be without exterior injury. He blinked slowly as he tried to adjust to the odd light; it seemed to be night time; how long had he been out?


    Simon startled, straining his still-ringing ears to verify he wasn't going mad. Hearing the call repeated, he started walking; wobbly at first, and then moving with long, steady strides towards towards the source of the sound. As he walked, his hand descended to the belt of his tunic, wishing for a weapon
    #2 Minibit, Sep 22, 2014
    Last edited: Sep 22, 2014
  3. Useless. Useless. Useless. He'd been calling over and over again, his throat was dry and no one was answering. Maybe he was dead, and this was purgatory. Even If he was alive, he would starve to death soon, or dehydrate. He heard those sorts of deaths were terribly painful.

    No. Stop. It was growing increasingly hard not to think like this. He was better than this. Whatever had happened to him, he could figure it out. He wasn't the sort of person who lied down and gave up, so he wouldn't start thinking like that now.

    He stopped there in the middle of the street as he forced in slow, purposed breaths into tight lungs. His deep brown eyes closed and he tried to focus. It had to have been the storm, there was no other explanation. Magic could be horribly unpredictable when uncontrolled and that storm was definitely out of control. He read about once an entire forest was turned to crystal shards in the span of a half hour - the crystals were filled with residual magic and were mined for their powers. And that was just one example in hundreds. Storms have even been blamed for people turning into animals, or disappearing completely.

    So.. it was the storm. The magic sent him somewhere. And he wasn't dead. He wasn't. He still breathed, he still had a heartbeat. He was thirsty, and his feet hurt from walking barefoot on the hard ground. He was definitely alive.

    Harrison felt a bit better with those facts in front of him. He wasn't dead, just a little lost. There had to be something in this place that could give him some answers, maybe he could climb to the top of one of these buildings and get a better look at the city. Harrison turned his eyes up towards the buildings around him. Big blocky things with flat fronts and too big doors. Yes, getting to the top wouldn't be so -

    Harrison stopped that train of thought and whirled around. He had caught something at the edge of his vision. Movement, something so subtle that he would have never noticed except now, when everything else was so still. What he saw made him almost weep. Another person had stepped onto the street. A man, alive, moving, here with him! "Hey!" He yelled quickly, renewed by the hope of salvation he ran to the man, his dark brown eyes wide with the fright he was consumed with, "You.. are you... did you -" He attempted helplessly, his expression turning frustrated for a moment before he took a deep breath, his hands held out in front of him, pleading, "Can you tell me what has happened?"
  4. Silence hung like a heavy cloud as Simon walked through the streets in search of the voice. He glanced into every window and yawning doorway, but saw nothing, not even a miserable rat or scavenging fox.

    As he paced, straining his ears for the sound of that voice, he tried to make sense of his last contact with Daedalus.

    The God of dimensions was in trouble, somehow. Simon was still wrapping his head around that one. If there was something else with him in the cosmos, how could it be news to an omniscient God? Unless Daedalus was not omniscient, which was unsettling. However he wasn't sure he liked the idea of something able to escape a world and strike down a god in the Cosmos much better. Either way, what on Aldus did Daedalus think he could do to help? He had said 'get help', and some things about sharing power, but that wasn't a lot to go on. It was all jumbled up though; he needed more time to sort it out.

    He passed through a heavy archway, on which dried foliage swung like an eerie curtain, and turned left without glancing right, his face pensive.

    A voice whirled him around, and he found himself staring at a person, not unlike himself, although dressed differently. When their eyes met, it was like being hit with a sack of bricks; he'd seen that face before! It flashed in his mind, as real and identical as if this man has been standing before him.

    He opened his mouth and found his throat too tight to produce sound. This was the champion Daedalus had babbled about; the one who would be granted a share of the god's power, to help save him. Simon was still pretty vague on the 'how', but still! Help was before him, not just for the trouble of his defending deity, but possibly for getting out of this wretched place, too.

    He came out of his reverie as the stranger began talking, and felt his hopes fall as it became apparent this man had no idea what had happened to bring him here either, and therefore less chance of knowing how to get them out.

    "I can't speak to that" he said, as slowly as his steps, approaching with caution. "Do you know what this place is?"
  5. The man turned to him, and reacted to his words. He was as real as everything else in this place and yet Harrison wanted to.. to touch him, grab him, ensure that he wouldn't vanish in a puff of smoke the moment Harrison turned his eyes away.

    But that would be a bit not good, wouldn't it?

    He forced his nerves down, forced himself to stand straight and keep his clenched hands at his side as he came to stand in front of the man, a respectable distance away as his eyes hungrily took in the man's appearance - his clothes were of a strange style, one Harrison didn't recognize. Perhaps he came from a different part of the world, it didn't matter. The thoughts in his head scattered the instant the man spoke.

    He didn't know either. Harrison's expression dropped, and he fought down the urge to laugh - it might sound a bit too delirious if he did. "No.." He shook his head, his gaze lifting to the stranger's face once more.

    "I.. work for the Central Library in Lainiar. There was a storm and.." He tried to recall what happened again. The storm.. his windows flying open, lightning striking the building, and then a fire... "I don't know, I woke up, and then I was here." He gestured around them, his eyes turned to stare at one of the buildings before they snapped back to the stranger, "I thought I was alone. I've been looking for hours, but its all the same and there is... nothing." He shook his head, "Did the same happen to you? It was a rather vicious storm. I think Lainiar's suppressors were malfunctioning."
  6. Simon frowned, the expression causing creases between his eyebrows. He was unfamiliar with the place this man had named, although the storm he described sounded like the one that had descended on Aldus. Simon had dismissed that storm as benign, since Daedalus hadn't warned him to tell the people to protect themselves, but now that he knew what had happened to Daedalus, it was entirely possible the storm had been a result of Cosmic 'weather', and there was no telling what being struck with such energy could do, or what Daedalus might have intentionally done in his desperation. He felt his stomach knot as he wondered what was going on on Aldus at that moment; surely it wasn't as silent as this ungodly place, or maybe it was.

    "It's entirely possible" he answered carefully, shifting the worry from the forefront of his mind in favour of more immediate needs. "I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with Lainar. I hail from Aldus, the village of Lyeses. My name is Simon." He didn't really expect any recognition from the stranger's face. His clothes and the things he spoke of were all unfamiliar; which was a bit strange since his face was burned into his mind in such a way that he felt he had seen it many times before.

    a breeze; the first breath resembling life Simon had felt in this place, blew softly by them; cold. It caused a motion behind him that made Simon jump a little and look over his shoulder; it was only the foliage he had passed under a moment ago. His skin crawled with pins and needles, and he wasn't certain it could be totally attributed to the temperature. There was a strange energy in the air that only grew stronger the more he focused on it; it tingled in his fingers and the tips of his ears like dry wool in winter. It made him want to take a bath; as if there were tiny insects crawling on him. Whatever sort of power was resonating in the air here, it was not placid.
  7. Harrison nodded miserably at Simon's agreement. Entirely possible. It was, wasn't it? And what now? Would they need to find another storm to send them back? He glanced up to the sky, then back to Simon when he spoke again, this time of his own.. what? City? Country? Harrison narrowed his eyes and frowned, "I do not know these places" He said, exasperated, perhaps the storm was bigger than he first assumed, or this man had been here longer or.. or did it matter the time? Could the storm send a person through time as well as space? What a horrible thought. He did hope this was not his once Lainar in some future scenario. How miserable it would become if that were the truth.

    Harrison shook his mind from those thoughts. This man, Simon, drew his gaze and he made an attempt at a smile, "Harrison," He said, pressing a hand to his chest. "Where do -" He had began, but paused when he felt the soft breeze. For a moment he thought to cry in relief that there was actual movement, but it ended as quick as it came. The breeze felt wrong, and crawled up his spine in an unwelcomed shiver.

    Harrison crossed his arms across his chest and hunched a bit as he turned his eyes around them, then back to Simon, realizing this man felt the same.. strangeness.. from the air, "Perhaps we can talk some more somewhere else?"
  8. Simon nodded, and shifted his weight on his feet. Though the breeze had died as quickly as it was born, he still felt that sensation of his skin crawling, the air around him heavy with something. He could breathe easily, and felt no pressure on his chest, and yet it felt like he should have been squinting through a heavy fog. There was a similarity to the aftermath of a cosmic storm on Aldus; but different. This was something he couldn't identify, much less sense or manage. This made him nervous, This was foreign in all possible ways, and he wanted out.

    "Disagreeable though it be" he suggested, "we may get a view of this place's limits from higher up". As he spoke, he indicated with his hand a building one or two storeys higher than most. Its base seemed to be about a block over.


    From the far corner of a collapsed archway, a figure lay flat against the stone. Motionless and small, it peeked between a gap in the fallen stones, watching the strangers on the other side intently.
  9. Harrison turned his gaze upwards when Simon mentioned a better view, then turned towards the taller building. "Right, yeah, maybe." He agreed, shortly, but his eyes quickly trailed back to the stranger - Simon. He was real, solid, alive. He was moving in a city of motionless dead. Harrison was not going to let him out of his sights. "It isn't like we're getting anywhere down here on the ground."

    He took a step, then another, waiting until Simon was moving as well before he turned and began his proper stroll towards the building. "What do you think might have happened?" He asked as he rubbed at his arm apprehensively. It was so empty.. but suddenly he felt like he was being watched. It made the hair on his arms stand on end.
  10. Simon walked in step with Harrison, keeping him in his peripheral vision as they entered the arched doorway. It was beyond dark inside; as if the shadows actually had a substance. He slowed his pace, blinking to let his eyes adjust, and peering into the shadows looking for stairs.

    Meanwhile, near perfectly concealed in the rafters of that same building, two figures crouched, staring at the entrance with wide, pale eyes. Their focus, however, was only on the strangers for a moment. No sooner had they passed the centre of the room, than their follower slipped in behind them, sticking to the wall and blending into the neglected furnishings and bits of rock.

    Rita, for that was her name, shivered as she glanced through the room. She should have stopped at the courtyard; this building was unfamiliar, and in or bordering on another clan's territory. She peered from the corner over the back of a bench, her uncommonly small mouth dropping open slowly as the strangers located the staircase across the room and started ascending. The stranger with the darker hair had a presence she'd only heard of. When he passed by, she felt a shiver like static crawl across her skin; she felt a pressure in her chest, as if she were facing some great power.

    Simon stepped carefully onto the staircase, which seemed to be mostly brick and stuck to the rounded wall of the tower, spiralling upward.
  11. Harrison glanced over to Simon when the man remained quiet, Harrison's questions remained unanswered. It was unnerving, and he brought his arms up to cross over each other to stave off a shiver threatening to roll down his spine.

    The inside of the building was dark and still. It smelled like dust and.. old. Harrison paused at the door as that shiver flooded his nerves in a wave of sensation. It took him several seconds to overcome the oppressive, in-explainable fear of the dark before he could will himself to move forward again, hurrying to crowd closer to Simon as they found the stairs.

    Harrison found himself pausing again. His head turned, his eyes fell over the dark room - studying it. He was being paranoid. He could almost feel eyes watching them. He swallowed hard, and quickly climbed after Simon. "Do you think we'll find anything?" He asks, hoping Simon would respond this time. This was crazy, and he needed to know he wasn't the only one who was lost.
  12. "I hope so", Simon replied, offering a thin, rather forced smile. "If nothing else, we can see where we are." He felt obligated to speak in a low voice, although he thought that it might break the oppressive feeling of this place, if only there could be some sound.

    Shortly after his statement of optimism, they came to the top of the tower, and the dim light which now seemed much brighter after the dark interior, poured around them into a square roof. There had been a solid metal railing, at some point, but it was now rusted enough that Simon wouldn't risk leaning on it. It was curiously unbent, despite the fragility of the material. It's inly wounds were those of neglect, and natural weather.

    Beyond this railing spread out a city so vast Simon felt his jaw drop. Great towers, pyramids, and columned buildings of inknown purpose stretched out around them as far as the eye could see; the horizon held only the blurred tops of more buildings, and the Sky beyond it. It's scale was awefull, but the entire landscape was as colourless and drab as the rocks he'd come to on. Except -

    He squinted, shading his eyes and pushing his hair aside as he did. He'd never been great at seeing far; perhaps he's spent too much time in books close up to his nose for his eyes to have had much practice. But he thought he saw a point of vibrant fiery red or orange off toward their right "do you see that?" He asked urgently, pointing toward it
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