Welcome to Gaia! ::

She had come to the Goddess seeking answers as any supplicant would, with pride swallowed into her stomach and a humility she didn't really feel in the hopes that the Lady might be more inclined to give her what she wanted if she appeared meek and humble. Instead, she received an empty bag, a key, a pair of scissors, and a set of instructions. She was to go on a quest on the Goddess' behalf, and while she was genuinely excited about the opportunity, she was also disappointed that the answers she sought would not be forthcoming.

Well. She would do what the Goddess wanted--of course she would, she didn't really have a strong concept of no and the Goddess had brought her into the world, after all--and maybe, if she pleased Her enough, the Lady might see fit to throw her a bone.

Amati wiggled her way through the tiny doorway, unsure what to expect. The Lady had mentioned a lab, but she didn't know what that was. The first thing she saw once she popped out onto the other side were a set of doors. Perhaps this lab might be behind one of them? But if so, which one? All of them looked drastically different from one another, and none of them were marked with anything other than a strange symbol. Was finding the right door part of her test? What if she chose incorrectly? Then the Goddess may never answer her questions, and she would have the hungrily-gnawing why trapped inside of her forever! That was unacceptable. Clearly, this was not a decision she should make lightly.

She approached the door on the left, scrutinizing the almost whimsical curves and designs of its frame. The happy little pumpkin at the center was cute and seemed inviting, welcoming her if not inside, then perhaps to life itself. She lingered around it, looking for any kind of indication that this might be the right door--or the wrong one. As nice as this door seemed, she would choose accurate over adorable any day of the week. She moved on.

The door in the center seemed less approachable and more foreboding. She couldn't describe it, but it felt off, somehow. It appeared, from the extensive damage done to the door, that someone may have had an issue with whatever was behind it. That alone was enough to pique her curiosity, but there was another door to examine.

Amati hadn't taken two steps towards the last door when she found that she couldn't approach it. The sheer malevolence radiating from it literally repulsed her; she couldn't move forward, even if she had wanted to. It was strange, but the door itself made her skin crawl. She took a step back and immediately felt better. She let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. Well, that certainly made her choice easier. She turned back and pushed her way through the middle door.

She turns to leave, her task complete, only to find that the floor is no longer as solid as it was when she arrived. It's like she's slowly walking into a pool of water, each step submerging her a little deeper. She hears something behind her and turns, but the noise stops and it's still pitch black. She continues walking until the water is waist-high and freezing, and she has to hold the bag containing the heart up so it doesn't get wet.

"Please give it back."

That, she knows she heard. She stops and turns once more. "Hello?" She calls, expecting an answer. A moment passes, and then another, and she frowns and moves on. Sooner than she expects, she has to tilt her chin up to keep her head above the water. Clearly she has gone the wrong way, although she is certain there was only the one path from the door to the box.

"Please give me back my--" and suddenly she is pushed under the water. She struggles with whatever is holding her down, shoving and clawing at it with her one free hand, but her efforts are useless. She looks up through the murky water and sees a pair of golden eyes looking back down at her.

"You tried to go Below again," Huyana said, not accusingly, just stating a fact.

"So?" Is the snapped reply she got in response as her sister looked up from trying to smooth her wildly bedraggled feathers.

Huyana only sighed patiently, as she always did, and nudged her sister's beak aside with her own. She took over, preening her sister's wing much more gently than she had been doing it to herself. "You know you're still too young."

"I'm not."

"You are. Why are you so eager to leave?"

"Why are you so eager to stay?"

The question caught Huyana off guard and she pulled back to look her sister in the eye, a broken feather in her beak. "My family is here. My flock is here."

"But there's a whole world out there--"

"And I am confident that you will see it. It's not going anywhere. It will be there when you are strong enough to make the journey. Until then, be my baby sister. Just a little while longer." Huyana looked her sister in the eye and was gratified when she dropped her head first. She rubbed her cheek affectionately against her sister's and went back to work.

"Give me back my heart."

Amati awakes, after leaving the Goddess, on a cold, hard table in a too-bright room, confused and disoriented. She doesn't remember falling asleep; it seems she has misplaced some time between leaving the shrine and opening her eyes. She shivers, as much from the chill in the air as the knowledge that the Goddess is waiting on her, and she wasted time with sleep.

She carefully swings her legs off of the table. She is horribly out of place here--wherever here is--a dark little smudge in an otherwise pristine room. A persistent buzzing from the lights above echoes off of the walls and floor before assaulting her ears, making her want to look for a bug that needs to be swatted. She wants to get out of here. Fortunately, the exit is right in front of her. It is bright enough in the room that she can tell that there are no secret hidden traps in the few steps between herself and the door. That alone is refreshing.

Even better, it is unlocked, and she doesn't hesitate before leaving. She doesn't make it more than a few steps down the hall when she hears something slam shut elsewhere. She turns to see what it was and frowns; the door to the room she just left is still open, and she doesn't see any others along the hall. All the more reason to leave, quickly. Amati keeps walking, not even sure she's going in the right direction but every step she puts between her and that strange room makes her feel a little better.

Eventually she can make out a block of white that doesn't seem to fit with all of the other perfectly placed panels. Is it a door? She can't see exactly what it is, not from this far away. Well, she is committed to walking this way anyway, and if it is an exit, all the better.

Thud.

She jumps at the sudden sound, loud in the otherwise silent hallway, and turns cautiously to see what might have made it. She isn't sure she wants to know, and slowly exhales when she sees nothing but the endless expanse of sterile white walls leading back to the room she awoke in. She turns back and keeps walking, keeping her eyes fixed straight ahead.

Thud.

She doesn't want to turn around again because she's half afraid that it's just her mind playing tricks on her and half terrified that it isn't, but she has to--she can't not know. It is almost a relief when she turns and sees something there, an inky black blot on the white horizon, because now, at least, she has a scapegoat for all of her not-so-irrational fears.

That doesn't make them any less frightening. Especially not after she sees the rusty scissors the figure is carrying. Though she still holds the dagger the Goddess gave her, it seems more ornamental than the scissors, which seem like they've been used before, perhaps often.

There is distance between Amati and the creature and only the door preventing her from adding to it. She is moving before she knows it, the figure taking its time trailing after her as if it knows, more than Amati does, there is time, yet, before it needs to hurry. She all but slams into the door in her rush to get out, but there's no point. It's locked with a keypad, and she doesn't know the code. The letters on the paper next to it mean nothing to her.

((Distance: 45 feet))

Amati shakes her head to clear the remnants of the vision from it. She doesn't have time for this. The distance between the figure and herself is rapidly shrinking, and she still doesn't know what these letters mean.

((Distance: 35 feet))

Amati makes the mistake of looking back and is shaken as she sees the shadowy figure continuing to close the gap between them. She breaks for the trees, hoping they will provide enough cover for her to escape. Her path is deliberately roundabout as she tries to shake her stalker, and eventually the forest thins into nothingness. There is only a rickety bridge between herself and possible salvation.

She doesn't hesitate as she starts across the bridge, even though the wood creaks alarmingly beneath her feet. She has to hold on tightly to the ropes as a sudden wind picks up, making the entire thing sway. She can't stop, though, she has to move on, she just needs to be careful--she looks down to make sure the next step will be where she expects it and instead her eyes focus on the empty space between the slats. There is nothing down there, just an endless abyss, and she doesn't want to fall.

Her hesitation costs her. She doesn't hear the creature's footfalls on the bridge, only the hoarse shriek of rusty metal as the scissors open and close. She turns and is surprised to see the shadow, once so distant, now standing right in front of her.

Their eyes meet and it's like looking into the same emptiness that looms below them. It's only for a second, but it's more than long enough. The figure reaches out and cups her cheek, holding her in place. If not for the intent behind the gesture, it might otherwise be fond.

If the figure speaks, she doesn't know it; the dull rush of her own heartbeat is all that she can hear. The creak of the scissors makes her heartbeat seem like a whisper in comparison. She is aware of a sharp, stabbing pain in her chest that takes her breath away, more intense than anything else she has ever felt in her very short life, and suddenly, the world is almost too quiet.

The shadow's hand slips off of her cheek to hold her glowing, still-beating heart in her hand. "Don't worry, little sister," it says to her, its tone, while still distorted, pitched towards comfort. "It only hurts once." As it turns to walk away, Amati collapses where she stands like a puppet that has found itself with its strings suddenly cut. Her eyes are fixed on the endlessly grey sky, which slowly fades to the same bright white as the room she woke up in.

((game over))