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Bits of information were sinking into Willow's brain like pebbles into thick mud. The process was slow, understanding elusive, and she had never felt quite as foolish as she did in that moment. After the initial exuberance had faded, she was left with nothing more than wisps of coherence she tried to piece together to resemble some sort of logical sense. The effort was futile, like trying to repair a broken spider's web.
She blamed Garridan.
It seemed fitting.
...or just easier to lay blame on someone other than a spirit she may be hallucinating.
The man whose face was hidden from the world now had no helmet and she wished his missing eye and scarred flesh wasn't the first thing that drew her attention. She knew instantly with a sickening pang in her gut that it was either a source of shame or of pain…
...likely more complex than what she was imagining, but it was something he clearly didn't want to be known. It's why that blasted helmet covered his face. Perhaps the sight wouldn't have been so significant if it hadn't been purposefully hidden.
...or maybe it wasn't so much his missing eye that shocked her as it was just finally being able to put a face to a voice. She would no longer have to imagine what he looked like when replying to him…
...or being reprimanded by him…
...or given orders by him…
Curious.
She had pictured him to be much older.
Musings interrupted by his apparent distress and Willow was suddenly reminded that she didn't necessarily have time to gawk.
...not that she was.
...she wasn't, was she?
Gods.
She should have been more concerned by where they found themselves, but she had been subjected to far too many strange things, all within the short timespan of maybe thirtysomething hours, to be overwhelmed by what she was now experiencing. At least now she had the opportunity to tell the knight directly about being stuck inside a wolf's body.
...which she realized might still be the case considering they were not in the physical realm, but rather, a spiritual one and if their unconscious bodies were any indication, Willow still had to worry that when they returned--they would return, right?--she would be finding herself back inside that beast.
The thought made her shudder. She had her mouth come open, an arm begin to sweep toward the bodies to direct Garridan's attention to where she needed it, but he was turning from her, his focus training on the spirit and Willow couldn't help but feel like her opportunity to inform him of her plight had passed. Yet another disappointment left a sour taste in her mouth with the feeling of a large stone being wedged into her gut.
The differences in their priorities were apparently drastic. Here she was concerned about being stuck inside a wolf and Garridan…
Well, she could feel the wary caution billow up off of him like a dark cloud. Its presence had Willow questioning whether she, too, should be more concerned. Did the knight perceive a danger she couldn't? Was there a threat she wasn't understanding? She watched him carefully, trying to determine what thoughts went through his head based on how he held himself, but Garridan…
Oh, he was a hard man to read.
Even without a helmet.
She didn't like it.
She didn't like not knowing why the hairs on the back of her neck were rising when he angled himself between her and the spirit. She didn't like not knowing why he felt there was a need to do so. Why would he? Did he sense or see something she couldn't?
...and if there was a threat, why would he step between it and her?
It was a wonder to witness and if she had the privilege to ponder, she may have grinned at the act of chivalry, the notion holding a hint of nostalgia for her. She grew up with many tales about knights and to witness an ideal in action was something of a treat for her--a concept she may have recognized if trepidation at how the knight acted wasn't prickling her skin.
"Where?" The spirit chuckled at his question and Willow's gaze shifted from the knight to the young woman, who had turned to face him. "This is The Requiem, of course." The phantom's smile was childlike, as if eager to share the information. "Should seem familiar." She grinned then, but huffed a sigh and beckoned with a gesture of an arm. "Now come on! Time is ever flowing."
This was a spirit...or a being...that had been interacting with Willow on a consistent basis. Often enough that there was a sense of familiarity with the girl, indicating that it was possible the spirit had been around before Willow's memory was affected. Did that mean it could be trusted? Not necessarily, but the consequences of refusing to comply seemed like it could be more detrimental than following its direction.
Willow's attention wandered back to the knight and she reached up to lay a gentle hand against his arm in an effort to provide some form of reassurance. She hesitated at the last moment, watching her hand hover as if transfixed by the sight of how small it was compared to what it meant to touch. Would it be proper to attempt to ease what tension he felt or would the act give him reason to bite off her head? She didn't wish to strain what already was a tense relationship. She needed his help and needed him to be more inclined to do so without muddying what was already established. She didn't know him, despite feeling as if she should, and any act taken--even as simple as a touch--could result in animosity.
The indecision lasted just a breath and, in the end, Willow curled her fingers to her palm and dropped her hand to her side without touching the man as she retrained her attention on the girl. With a quiet sigh, she stepped around Garridan and followed after the spirit. Whatever danger he perceived couldn't be faced by hiding behind him, waiting for something to happen when the girl so clearly stated they didn't have time to spare. If this were a trick…
Well. Then it made more sense that it would be she who stumbled into it rather than the man the others looked to as a leader. A strange thought to have when facing something she's been interacting with the last two days without incident. Betrayal came easy when trust was established. Perhaps Willow should remain cautious and perhaps she was, deep down, but arguing with something she didn't entirely understand seemed less efficient than heeding the directions given. The spirit wants to be followed? Then so be it. It wasn't like she could turn around and force her way back into the physical realm. She had a feeling it wouldn't be so easy to return unless they were compliant.
"The girl is annoying, but I don't think she's...dangerous." Willow's voice was soft, her gaze flickering up to catch Garridan's eye, only to just as quickly look away. Maybe it was foolish to have such an opinion. Maybe everything unfamiliar and strange was dangerous and she was just being naive.
Still.
It didn't seem right to resist.
Willow may have said something more, but she decided against it and pressed forward to follow the spirit. If she were walking into a trap, she didn't want to convince Garridan it was okay to do so. Maybe it was best he hung back near their bodies just in case. Then again…
How was one to fight anything when one was only incorporeal?
Shoving away the incessant questions to the back of her mind, Willow made her way down the stretch of the large hallway. She fought the urge to look around, knowing that there would be something that would snag her attention and then she would delay once more. If time was of the essence, then she couldn't afford being distracted.
She didn't remain in the hallway for long. It stretched endlessly on, but the spirit glided through a set of doors on the left seemingly within moments Willow decided to follow, disappearing from sight until Willow reached them herself. She came to rest at the threshold, peering into the room before proceeding. Through the doors was a short entryway that opened into a large, round chamber. The walls and floor matched the hallway, but the room was lined with large, stone pedestals ingrained with writing Willow felt she should know, but was unable to understand. Standing on the pedestals were suits of heavy armor, polished to a gleam that sparkled from the soft blue light emanating from not only the spirit, but a pool of water set in the middle of the room. Each knightly statue had a sword, the pommel beneath overlapped hands and the tip of the blade between their feet. Spaced evenly around the room, Willow tried her best to ignore them.
She felt weighed down by their stares she couldn't see, their faces hidden behind slotted visors. Although inanimate, she still felt watched and her steps into the room nearly faltered as she fought to keep from glancing over her shoulder to see if Garridan followed. His presence would be reassuring, but she couldn't show that she was suddenly nervous. She didn't want to give the man any more reason not to heed the spirit.
Swallowing, Willow trained her gaze on the pool of water where the girl came to rest. Pretending the statues didn't exist, she approached the center of the room with careful steps as she drew the cloak she wore more tightly around her.
"The Well of Knowledge."
Willow hadn't realized how quiet it had been until the girl spoke, the sudden noise nearly giving her a start. Gaze flickering from the spirit back to the water, Willow's steps slowed to a stop at a reasonable distance--not too far away that she couldn't see anything, but not too close that something within could easily reach out and snag her. Why she thought a monster could be lurking within the pool, she didn't know and, again, blamed Garridan for the overactive imagination. If he wasn't acting with so much caution, maybe she wouldn't be so tense herself.
Willow quietly cleared her throat. "What is it that you wish to show us?"
It would be a question Willow remembered asking, the memory sitting heavy in her head as she struggled to understand that she was once more standing in Garridan's tent. She got the sense that time had passed, that her question had been answered in a way that must have twisted up her insides if the sudden nausea was anything to go by, but there wasn't any solid memory of what had happened after the inquiry left her mouth.
Dazed and quickly growing agitated, Willow gathered that whatever it was she had been shown had been taken the moment they were released back to the physical realm. What or who could have done it was a mystery, but it rendered the entire experience useless if she couldn't remember what had been shown to her. As if a hive of angry bees had been released inside her head, it took Willow a long moment to acknowledge that Garridan was groaning his way back to consciousness and that, despite hoping otherwise, she still was without her human body. The moment it took to acknowledge those observations shifted into a moment of realizing they were unimportant compared to the commotion outside of his tent.
The anger she felt welling up within quickly changed into an icy concern at the noise now distinguished as cries of men and the sound of…
...battle.
The camp was under attack and the truth of it tickled at the back of Willow's mind as if she had been given the knowledge beforehand and the details of it were now fighting to be remembered. She had been told what attacked them, had been told what to protect, and had been told they needed to escape...but the details of it all were lost to her.
Perhaps they didn't matter. What mattered was that the men were being attacked and someone or something had waited to strike when the entire camp would be weak.
"Wake up!" Willow darted to the rousing knight, not realizing that her words wouldn't quicken the process of Garridan shaking the fog from his mind and limbs. Even the wolf struggled to regain its consciousness, but Willow was too preoccupied to notice the detachment from the beast. Ghostly fingers curled around the nape of the knight's chest plate to assist righting him as she thrusted his helmet into his hands. "The camp is--!"
The flap of the tent suddenly tore open, Willow's mind quieting and actions stilling at the sight that filled the entrance. A large, lanky body with winnowed limbs stooped to enter, red glowing eyes scanning the inside, only to train on the knight and spectral woman at his side. The creature grinned and Willow knew then what attacked the camp.
She blamed Garridan.
It seemed fitting.
...or just easier to lay blame on someone other than a spirit she may be hallucinating.
The man whose face was hidden from the world now had no helmet and she wished his missing eye and scarred flesh wasn't the first thing that drew her attention. She knew instantly with a sickening pang in her gut that it was either a source of shame or of pain…
...likely more complex than what she was imagining, but it was something he clearly didn't want to be known. It's why that blasted helmet covered his face. Perhaps the sight wouldn't have been so significant if it hadn't been purposefully hidden.
...or maybe it wasn't so much his missing eye that shocked her as it was just finally being able to put a face to a voice. She would no longer have to imagine what he looked like when replying to him…
...or being reprimanded by him…
...or given orders by him…
Curious.
She had pictured him to be much older.
Musings interrupted by his apparent distress and Willow was suddenly reminded that she didn't necessarily have time to gawk.
...not that she was.
...she wasn't, was she?
Gods.
She should have been more concerned by where they found themselves, but she had been subjected to far too many strange things, all within the short timespan of maybe thirtysomething hours, to be overwhelmed by what she was now experiencing. At least now she had the opportunity to tell the knight directly about being stuck inside a wolf's body.
...which she realized might still be the case considering they were not in the physical realm, but rather, a spiritual one and if their unconscious bodies were any indication, Willow still had to worry that when they returned--they would return, right?--she would be finding herself back inside that beast.
The thought made her shudder. She had her mouth come open, an arm begin to sweep toward the bodies to direct Garridan's attention to where she needed it, but he was turning from her, his focus training on the spirit and Willow couldn't help but feel like her opportunity to inform him of her plight had passed. Yet another disappointment left a sour taste in her mouth with the feeling of a large stone being wedged into her gut.
The differences in their priorities were apparently drastic. Here she was concerned about being stuck inside a wolf and Garridan…
Well, she could feel the wary caution billow up off of him like a dark cloud. Its presence had Willow questioning whether she, too, should be more concerned. Did the knight perceive a danger she couldn't? Was there a threat she wasn't understanding? She watched him carefully, trying to determine what thoughts went through his head based on how he held himself, but Garridan…
Oh, he was a hard man to read.
Even without a helmet.
She didn't like it.
She didn't like not knowing why the hairs on the back of her neck were rising when he angled himself between her and the spirit. She didn't like not knowing why he felt there was a need to do so. Why would he? Did he sense or see something she couldn't?
...and if there was a threat, why would he step between it and her?
It was a wonder to witness and if she had the privilege to ponder, she may have grinned at the act of chivalry, the notion holding a hint of nostalgia for her. She grew up with many tales about knights and to witness an ideal in action was something of a treat for her--a concept she may have recognized if trepidation at how the knight acted wasn't prickling her skin.
"Where?" The spirit chuckled at his question and Willow's gaze shifted from the knight to the young woman, who had turned to face him. "This is The Requiem, of course." The phantom's smile was childlike, as if eager to share the information. "Should seem familiar." She grinned then, but huffed a sigh and beckoned with a gesture of an arm. "Now come on! Time is ever flowing."
This was a spirit...or a being...that had been interacting with Willow on a consistent basis. Often enough that there was a sense of familiarity with the girl, indicating that it was possible the spirit had been around before Willow's memory was affected. Did that mean it could be trusted? Not necessarily, but the consequences of refusing to comply seemed like it could be more detrimental than following its direction.
Willow's attention wandered back to the knight and she reached up to lay a gentle hand against his arm in an effort to provide some form of reassurance. She hesitated at the last moment, watching her hand hover as if transfixed by the sight of how small it was compared to what it meant to touch. Would it be proper to attempt to ease what tension he felt or would the act give him reason to bite off her head? She didn't wish to strain what already was a tense relationship. She needed his help and needed him to be more inclined to do so without muddying what was already established. She didn't know him, despite feeling as if she should, and any act taken--even as simple as a touch--could result in animosity.
The indecision lasted just a breath and, in the end, Willow curled her fingers to her palm and dropped her hand to her side without touching the man as she retrained her attention on the girl. With a quiet sigh, she stepped around Garridan and followed after the spirit. Whatever danger he perceived couldn't be faced by hiding behind him, waiting for something to happen when the girl so clearly stated they didn't have time to spare. If this were a trick…
Well. Then it made more sense that it would be she who stumbled into it rather than the man the others looked to as a leader. A strange thought to have when facing something she's been interacting with the last two days without incident. Betrayal came easy when trust was established. Perhaps Willow should remain cautious and perhaps she was, deep down, but arguing with something she didn't entirely understand seemed less efficient than heeding the directions given. The spirit wants to be followed? Then so be it. It wasn't like she could turn around and force her way back into the physical realm. She had a feeling it wouldn't be so easy to return unless they were compliant.
"The girl is annoying, but I don't think she's...dangerous." Willow's voice was soft, her gaze flickering up to catch Garridan's eye, only to just as quickly look away. Maybe it was foolish to have such an opinion. Maybe everything unfamiliar and strange was dangerous and she was just being naive.
Still.
It didn't seem right to resist.
Willow may have said something more, but she decided against it and pressed forward to follow the spirit. If she were walking into a trap, she didn't want to convince Garridan it was okay to do so. Maybe it was best he hung back near their bodies just in case. Then again…
How was one to fight anything when one was only incorporeal?
Shoving away the incessant questions to the back of her mind, Willow made her way down the stretch of the large hallway. She fought the urge to look around, knowing that there would be something that would snag her attention and then she would delay once more. If time was of the essence, then she couldn't afford being distracted.
She didn't remain in the hallway for long. It stretched endlessly on, but the spirit glided through a set of doors on the left seemingly within moments Willow decided to follow, disappearing from sight until Willow reached them herself. She came to rest at the threshold, peering into the room before proceeding. Through the doors was a short entryway that opened into a large, round chamber. The walls and floor matched the hallway, but the room was lined with large, stone pedestals ingrained with writing Willow felt she should know, but was unable to understand. Standing on the pedestals were suits of heavy armor, polished to a gleam that sparkled from the soft blue light emanating from not only the spirit, but a pool of water set in the middle of the room. Each knightly statue had a sword, the pommel beneath overlapped hands and the tip of the blade between their feet. Spaced evenly around the room, Willow tried her best to ignore them.
She felt weighed down by their stares she couldn't see, their faces hidden behind slotted visors. Although inanimate, she still felt watched and her steps into the room nearly faltered as she fought to keep from glancing over her shoulder to see if Garridan followed. His presence would be reassuring, but she couldn't show that she was suddenly nervous. She didn't want to give the man any more reason not to heed the spirit.
Swallowing, Willow trained her gaze on the pool of water where the girl came to rest. Pretending the statues didn't exist, she approached the center of the room with careful steps as she drew the cloak she wore more tightly around her.
"The Well of Knowledge."
Willow hadn't realized how quiet it had been until the girl spoke, the sudden noise nearly giving her a start. Gaze flickering from the spirit back to the water, Willow's steps slowed to a stop at a reasonable distance--not too far away that she couldn't see anything, but not too close that something within could easily reach out and snag her. Why she thought a monster could be lurking within the pool, she didn't know and, again, blamed Garridan for the overactive imagination. If he wasn't acting with so much caution, maybe she wouldn't be so tense herself.
Willow quietly cleared her throat. "What is it that you wish to show us?"
It would be a question Willow remembered asking, the memory sitting heavy in her head as she struggled to understand that she was once more standing in Garridan's tent. She got the sense that time had passed, that her question had been answered in a way that must have twisted up her insides if the sudden nausea was anything to go by, but there wasn't any solid memory of what had happened after the inquiry left her mouth.
Dazed and quickly growing agitated, Willow gathered that whatever it was she had been shown had been taken the moment they were released back to the physical realm. What or who could have done it was a mystery, but it rendered the entire experience useless if she couldn't remember what had been shown to her. As if a hive of angry bees had been released inside her head, it took Willow a long moment to acknowledge that Garridan was groaning his way back to consciousness and that, despite hoping otherwise, she still was without her human body. The moment it took to acknowledge those observations shifted into a moment of realizing they were unimportant compared to the commotion outside of his tent.
The anger she felt welling up within quickly changed into an icy concern at the noise now distinguished as cries of men and the sound of…
...battle.
The camp was under attack and the truth of it tickled at the back of Willow's mind as if she had been given the knowledge beforehand and the details of it were now fighting to be remembered. She had been told what attacked them, had been told what to protect, and had been told they needed to escape...but the details of it all were lost to her.
Perhaps they didn't matter. What mattered was that the men were being attacked and someone or something had waited to strike when the entire camp would be weak.
"Wake up!" Willow darted to the rousing knight, not realizing that her words wouldn't quicken the process of Garridan shaking the fog from his mind and limbs. Even the wolf struggled to regain its consciousness, but Willow was too preoccupied to notice the detachment from the beast. Ghostly fingers curled around the nape of the knight's chest plate to assist righting him as she thrusted his helmet into his hands. "The camp is--!"
The flap of the tent suddenly tore open, Willow's mind quieting and actions stilling at the sight that filled the entrance. A large, lanky body with winnowed limbs stooped to enter, red glowing eyes scanning the inside, only to train on the knight and spectral woman at his side. The creature grinned and Willow knew then what attacked the camp.
