[Darin can't fight the smile forming on his face. She looked so pleased to have a place of her own...]
... ... ...
[It happens so suddenly then. A tug at his peripheries...like something pulling at the frayed edges of his consciousness. It feels like things are getting blurry, like reality itself is shifting, warping, the boundaries between universes becoming translucent for just the briefest of moments.]
[It strikes him then. He knows what this is. He knows what this has to be. Cold sweat breaks out on his skin, his heart rate spikes to the point where it's practically inside of his throat. Familiar sounds come rushing back to him. The night after the events of Uyreka, Dromas' proclamations, the look on Iris' face when his true identity was revealed.]
[He could see them now. The last thing he saw right before being brought to Heropa; the twin moons hovering ominously in the sky, casting the world in an eerie purple palor...]
[His world. Anmaral.]
[It was like he was experiencing the haze of a morning after a dream-heavy slumber, where your mind races to try and catch all of the escaping details before they're burned away by the morning sun. He tried his best to hold onto names...faces...]
[It was disappearing like smoke, slipping though the cracks in his consciousness.]
[Fear slowly fades as he rushes to burn whatever he can into his mind. Engrave it into his very soul. He wants to call out to Cecelia, but already his voice is in another reality. He wants to tell her not to worry. Not to be scared. To tell everyone on his behalf that he loves them and that he will find a way back. To tell the one most precious to him to wait for him.]
[But since he can't speak, he steels his gaze and firms his jaw.]
[Wait for me guys. I'll be back. I promise...]
[Cecelia's wind chime catches the breeze, the clinking and clanking somehow sounding more hollow than before...]
[Only to be accompanied by the sound of a cane falling to the carpet as soundless as the departure of its owner.]
no subject
... ... ...
[It happens so suddenly then. A tug at his peripheries...like something pulling at the frayed edges of his consciousness. It feels like things are getting blurry, like reality itself is shifting, warping, the boundaries between universes becoming translucent for just the briefest of moments.]
[It strikes him then. He knows what this is. He knows what this has to be. Cold sweat breaks out on his skin, his heart rate spikes to the point where it's practically inside of his throat. Familiar sounds come rushing back to him. The night after the events of Uyreka, Dromas' proclamations, the look on Iris' face when his true identity was revealed.]
[He could see them now. The last thing he saw right before being brought to Heropa; the twin moons hovering ominously in the sky, casting the world in an eerie purple palor...]
[His world. Anmaral.]
[It was like he was experiencing the haze of a morning after a dream-heavy slumber, where your mind races to try and catch all of the escaping details before they're burned away by the morning sun. He tried his best to hold onto names...faces...]
[It was disappearing like smoke, slipping though the cracks in his consciousness.]
[Fear slowly fades as he rushes to burn whatever he can into his mind. Engrave it into his very soul. He wants to call out to Cecelia, but already his voice is in another reality. He wants to tell her not to worry. Not to be scared. To tell everyone on his behalf that he loves them and that he will find a way back. To tell the one most precious to him to wait for him.]
[But since he can't speak, he steels his gaze and firms his jaw.]
[Wait for me guys. I'll be back. I promise...]
[Cecelia's wind chime catches the breeze, the clinking and clanking somehow sounding more hollow than before...]
[Only to be accompanied by the sound of a cane falling to the carpet as soundless as the departure of its owner.]