Welcome to Gaia! ::

She could leave, but only through one door.

To the left was a door of blue, and what Sherry felt coming from that door didn't frighten her or make her too wary. It was filled with things she stood for - defending, protecting - helping people. That was her role.

To the right the door was black. It was more of a roller-coaster of emotions, that ended up somewhere tempting. A good feeling that spoke of satisfaction and strength. Something she'd wanted to feel a number of times but had been denied.

It was eerily like the choice before. One door felt like it led to a path of helping, doing more for others. One path felt driven by power and selfishness. Yet she could sense a difference in the choices, too. Behind the blue door there was no sense of losing herself. Behind the black door there was a sense of vindication, which to Sherry felt like hurting others specifically for her own pleasure, not simply power.

It should have been an easy choice. Regret colored this one though. She'd chosen the green door to help others and she'd regretted it once she realized fully it meant losing who she was. She wanted to help, but not at the loss of who she was. Red might have been the better answer before, no loss of self yet the power to help, but that didn't mean that black was the better answer now. Black reeked of power and vindication, temptation and satisfaction. She thought of not!Jason and how cruel he had been, of how nice it would be make him suffer for it. People like him deserved retribution. Once again, she liked the idea. Once again, the fact that she was so very tempted by it that it scared her.

She turned back to the blue door. It was safe. It was helpful. Strength without the hate.

She wanted power, her own power, her own strength. She wanted to protect what was hers. Keep it. Both doors seemed like they could offer that, in a way. In their own way. But which would let her keep most of herself?

Sherry opened the Blue Door before she could think better of it.

She took in the sight of the sword. It was beautiful, from the hilt to the crystal it was in. There was a pleasant feeling about it, something warm, welcome, almost wanted. It was simply a sword, yet it was more than that.

There was something familiar there, hard to catch at first, but there. She could feel them. People she'd known, people she'd loved. People she'd wanted to protect.

She found herself right up near the sword, looking at it. Looking at it, it's crystals, and familiar faces. People she called friend, people who would help her and protect her. This was what she wanted, wasn't it? To be safe and warm and protected. It was such a good feeling - to know you could stay and be protected from all, comfortable with those who you knew wanted to keep you from harm.

It... it wasn't the wrong choice. Sherry didn't feel regret as she looked at the sword and what it had to offer. It was a good choice. A choice she could almost be happy with, a choice that would be almost everything she wanted.

Almost. It was, in an odd way, almost like the grail. If Sherry stayed here, she'd lose something that she valued. Not herself, per say, but some key part of herself that she longed to improve.

"I have to leave," she said, giving the sword a sad smile. "It's nice to know you'd protect me, but that's not what I'm looking for." She wasn't here to be protected. "I need to be able to protect them, the people I love. I need to be the strong one."

It was hard to turn away from the sword, from the comfort and safety it offered. Sherry still did it. She turned away to look for an exit.

The moment the feeling left her she felt a another, smaller pang of regret. It would have been so easy to stay. So warm, so safe. Hell, she'd have even felt wanted, not just safe and protected. She shook her head. No. It was comfortable and warm but it wasn't what she wanted. She'd known that almost instantly. "Sorry," she said again, even though she was sure it wasn't listening. "I can't just stay where I am the safe one. I need to make it safe." It was the only way to not be utterly helpless.

She looked at the two doors before her now. They were odd, and quiet. No hints of power, no promises to be given. Which choice was the right on here? Which choice was the right one at all? Had she already passed by the best choice? Had she already rejected what she sought? Or would she simply be stuck choosing doors forever?

Armagnac sounded bitter.

"You can't know that," Sherry whispered. "And besides, I..." She was still afraid of what she might have found behind that door. That and she'd... she felt like she was grasping at some lost idea that was now tatters and falling apart in her hands. The whole wasn't always more important than herself, she knew that now, but it was still hard to accept.

Confirmation. Sherry could feel the dragon shift, as though a large snake was uncoiling and recoiling itself in her mind.

Sherry only nodded.

It was, in the end, no use wondering what if. She had only what lay before her now. Two doors. No promises. No tough decisions about what was right or best for her or best for the world.

She'd dreamed once -though it hadn't been a dream had it- that she was part of the kingdom of violet. That alone was almost enough to move her forward through that door.

Almost.

Sherry reached out. She chose the White Door this time. Overthinking things had left her with regrets, so she simply chose.

At first glance, she thought it was simply a room filled with crystals. White crystals, similar to some she'd seen before. As she stepped into the room, she realized there was more to them than just being crystals. Scenes, images, pieces of a story. Her story. No, wait. Not her story. Images of a story that never was.

She watched, she stared, and it slowly dawned on her that what she saw was what could have been. If she had gone this way instead of that, if she'd said yes here instead of no, or no instead of yes. She'd often wondered about the 'what ifs', and here they were, all around her.

She lingered at one scene, a scene that it took her a few moments to understand. She looked happy, but different. It was hard to place at first, and she stared at herself in that scene, in a house she didn't recognize, with people she didn't know. Next to it was another scene, a family. Her family. Her gaze went from one scene to the other, then the next. There was love and warmth, a marriage and children, a job, and friends. This was it. Her story that never was. What could have been if she'd not decided to say yes that night. If she'd not decided to walk away from her old life and into something else. She looked happy and healthy and--

There was a rumble in her mind, a shifting of scales, and she could feel Armagnac pushing at her emotions, gauging them.

Sherry's smile was bittersweet. You needn't worry, she told Armagnac silently, I would choose you over them any day.

Sherry felt the wyrm relax, and at the same time wrap her up tight in her mind.

"I can't stay," she told the room. "It's nice to see what might have been, but..." She looked around at the images. She didn't regret becoming a hunter. She knew she couldn't regret any of her choices for too long. She'd made them and time wasn't something easily undone. "I can't just stay and look at all the choices I didn't make. I need live with the ones I have."

Sherry turned away.

Only one door? It was a color she knew well, but somehow having only one door surprised her. It shouldn't have, she'd realize eventually, but it did right then.

Even more surprising was the child there, eerily transparent in form. It was herself wasn't it? In some weird way.

"What's not inside?" Sherry looked at the door. Then she looked back at the child. "Where is here?" Sherry looked around her. She could leave, she couldn't come back... it didn't make a lot of sense to her.

"What's outside?"

Sherry looked down at the child, then at the door, then back to her child self. "Forget? About everything? Not worry again?" The room they were in suddenly felt very large and very small at the same time, as Sherry tried to make sense of the words.

"I..." She took a step back. It sounded too much like promises she'd heard in the past. Never worry again. Forget it all. It would be so easy to just walk out and forget. To run from the choices, to run from it all. "I can't do that."

She might have held some small amount of regret, she might have wondered about those lost paths of what wasn't chosen, but she had decided to deal with her choices and move on.

Armagnac sounded pleased.

"Sorry," Sherry said to the child. With that she turned back to the door.

It was funny, the way the color and sound felt familiar. Some of the other rooms had felt alien in a way. But this one... Familiar. It frightened her less because of that.

Her fingers lingered on the throne, her touch light as she pondered the questions. One question she'd been told to ask rolled through her mind.

"What's the price?" There was always a price. She couldn't sense it taking part of herself, she couldn't feel herself losing control of who she was if she stayed. She couldn't see herself walking away from the life that she'd chosen if she stayed. Just the sense that she would need command.

"What's the price?"