adsom: reunions

[queensland]

Too much. It was too much.

Neria had slipped into the dark with incredible ease, buried herself in it so she could escape from her trial and from everything else. She jumped through the layers of the world - the dark, the fissures of other realms, a deeper dark she had no name for - and as she went, the world seemed to simply shimmer away. Neria fell through the layers of the realms and Cassian screamed for her. Rather than fight, she simply allowed herself to fall away from the world.

And as she came back out, she stepped from the shadows of an alley, breathless, leaning against the stone. Her eyes adjusted to the gloom as if she'd gone from dusk to twilight and she waited there a moment, pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes until she saw dancing spots. Her chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

Cassian whispered to her, cajoling, and she finally came back to herself.

And she was not in Emorr.

The street was unfamiliar. As she stretched her senses through the shadows, she realized that...nothing was familiar here. She'd come out elsewhere in her fit and Neria moved from the alley to quickly begin exploring, keeping to the shadows cautiously.

Comments

[londonbridged]

The first thing to notice was the scent, and the feel of the air.

Every breath was a warm, rich rush of flowers, without the stink of a city -- and what was more, the magic itself tingled across her skin. This was not a dying world. This was one that practically had a pulse, healthy and strong.

From the ends of the brick alleyway came the din of a healthy, vibrant city, the indistinct murmuring of foot traffic, voices blending into a hum of humanity. The buzz of activity mirrored the more populous parts of Thedas. Children dashed by underfoot, men and women in groups or alone, talking to each other as they wended their way through the twisting streets. Storefronts were in abundance, mixed with inns and taverns, as well as what looked like tidy residential buildings tucked wherever there was room.

Flowers bloomed, artfully twisted in vines, in boxes, despite the late-winter chill that still lingered in the air.

Nearby, a pair of children crouched by a puddle, taking turns freezing it, then tapping with their boots to break the ice.

In the distance, soaring over the surrounding architecture, was a gleaming palace. It glittered faintly, refracting ruby-colored light.

The language that wrapped around her was not her own. Instead it was rolling, musical, softly accented -- and somehow, faintly familiar.