Welcome to Gaia! ::

(( entering from floor 2 ))

As promised, the world went dark as soon as the door swung shut behind him. Westus froze, certain that something was going to fly out and strike him down. The rush of fear he felt in response was almost welcome, even if it was short-lived. He was already dead. Still, it was nice to feel something, even if it was terror. The fragment might have laughed, but why waste the energy? If The Voice wanted to kill him again, there was certainly nothing he could do about it.

He stood still for some time, long enough to start wondering if he was the only one around, until he felt a gust of air brush at the loose hairs around his face. He turned, shuffling toward where the door had been. Nothing. His heel caught in a hard groove gouged into the otherwise smooth stone as he backed up and he almost fell, jerking himself forward again in time to prevent it. After a moment he crouched, running his hands across the floor. It was cold and featureless, save for the treacherous grooves. They held no answers. He rose to his feet and continued his search.

"You wouldn't happen to know my father, would you?" Acerium asked the green bishop of the time.
"Big guy? looked a little like you? Maybe, silver. Why?"
"I'm looking for him. Did he... join your kingdom?"
"The ******** should I know. Go ask that person. He handles all you silvers. Gets you all official and stuff. Me? I'm going to go eat some fried moogle" the bishop leered at some moogles nearby, who glared in protest, "just kidding sweethearts, its chocobo."
Acerium waited until he had left. He had gestured to a scribe. Scribes! She knew scribes.
She was getting excited! Finally she would know what had happened to...

The excitement was real.
She felt the thing in front of her. A chair?
NO. a throne!
That was observing her, watching her, judging her.

....
Hadn't the silver king said something about a throne? Pride?

Call my true name

Hmmm...
she brushed her fingers on it- yay sensation- before getting lost in her mind again...

He left the fountain behind, along with any thoughts of what may have been contained within other than water.

Further into the room he searched, feeling the cold, smooth floor under feet with each deliberate step. He walked with caution, taking the time to feel the space before him with both his hands and feet. In this darkness there was no knowing what lay beyond the next step, what might be lurking to attack (or at least smash his toes).

His hand fell on something, something unlike anything else, metallic, cold, and yet... He could not explain it, could not describe it, it felt...alive, and yet it could not be. Was there someone else there?

Sheridan tried to speak, to call out, but no sound would come. All he could do was search and feel, his hands moving down the object, searching out the lines and shapes that made it. It was...a chair...no, a throne. Most likely one of great grandeur, perhaps even -the- throne. Was this the source of the voice? But though he found the seat, he could feel no one there, it was empty, there was no answer there.

In frustration he sat, maybe on the throne itself, or maybe on the floor, it didn't really matter. What was of note however was what he felt at the base. An engraving? An inscription! His attention refocused, he ran his hand over the writing, feeling out the letters and words.

Call...my...name...

Call my name? Well that was pointless. How on earth was he meant to call a name when he could not speak? Sheridan snorted in anger, standing to his feet and glaring into the darkness, arms crossed over his chest. His words were a thought, focused entirely on the voice, willing it to hear him.

"You are pathetic, and I no longer care who you are."

He moved toward the breeze, arms outstretched, pausing when his toes smacked into a shallow step. More stairs? Westus sighed. Only one thing to do, he supposed. Follow th—

The fragment hopped back in surprise as The Voice suddenly addressed him. He froze again, his hands still poised in the air as he listened to the disembodied tale. He closed his sightless eyes. This was all bullshit. Before he had died he might have fretted over the time he was wasting flailing around in the dark, but now he just wanted this whole mess to finally end.

She had been stumbling around further, trying to find something different. A book. Some liquid. Grooves. It didn't make any sense, but she wasn't going to have any more of it. Bumping in to what appeared to be some kind of squishy thing on the floor - albeit a little lightly - she toppled over a bit, grasping down at the squishy bit, getting a feel of a shoulder and someone who seemed rather thin.

And feathers. Grasping outwards, she felt some kind of feathering - trying to decipher it.

No one had wings, as far as she remembered - in this realm. Sighing, she leaned on that person, hoping it was no one who wanted her deceased anymore, figuring this was better than nothing. Giving a silent sigh, she decided to wait with whoever she was with, hoping that they could just . . . go home soon.

xoxomenai

Acerium moved away from the throne at last...

Acerium washed her face, scrubbing at the mud.
"That wasn't very nice." She said to the argonian and viera doubleteam.
"Nice isn't the point, sweetheart" rasped the argonian, casually forming another mudball in his hand, "Its all in good fun" they launched it at the wall. Mudball, they called it. Whoever hit the targets on the wall with the colored mud the most times won.
Sometimes there was 'friendly fire.'
The viera winked at Acerium, forming her own mudball and holding it over the argonian's head.
Acerium grinned.
"Yep, all in good fun." she said, standing up

Oh! the fountain again...
She kept wandering.

True name... true name... how the ******** was she going to do that?

"RUN!" the memory was out of order. It felt odd, out of place, fading into a silver screen.
Her father pushed her down the wooded path. she tripped and fell.
"Girl... you have to get out of here!"
"I'm not a girl!" she said, angrily, turning to face him
"Little sapling..." the old name soothed her a little.
"I'm all grown up now, dad, shadowing a kingdom. The vine has taken over my room dad. It grew up and up and up and now it is my wall." her father stood, watching her, his face sad and heavy, "Stop treating me like a child. What have you done?"
The memory blurred into static for a moment.
"...Be safe there." it resumed.
A khajiit, wearing a hood smiled at her, "Thats what he said anyway. Never been there. Don't forget our cause while yer in that red place, ok? and return soon!"
She cast the portal and stepped through, her vision turning a beautiful red until the kingdom of red appeared around her. She looked back, even though she knew the green kingdom was more than behind her- it was very far away...

She had forgotten their cause. She did forget their cause. When she tried to remember what happened with her father (?!) the khajiit and the green kingdom, she found only silver static and nothing.

She had tripped, her knees on the cool floor. She felt.
Oh.
the grooves again.

She continued on. There had to be more in this room! She knew it!