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+--- Thread: AW Glaciers melting in the dead of night (/showthread.php?tid=12060)
Glaciers melting in the dead of night - Conor - 6/8/2026
Gold Flame location
Although he knew what to expect, the compression of time and space before it relinquished him to the nothingness of existing in a void was still uncomfortable.
He tried not to squirm within its grasp as the meaning of time's passage faded. Each ebb and flow of breath took both moments and eons, everything taking on softened edges and after-images he would have attributed to some sort of inebriation if he didn't know better.
All at once, and yet somehow also with all the gradual ease of a steady climb toward a mountain's peak, reality came crashing down around him. He was thrown off the cliff of nothingness and into the warm air of Mythris. Fortunately for him, he was not dropped from a great height, but it knocked the air from his lungs all the same as he fell flat on his back beside the crackling gold fire.
It took several long moments for him to coax a breath back into his lungs, the success marked with an audible gasp as he sucked the oxygen back into his body. His panic eased, the rapid rise and fall of his chest slowly easing into a pace closer to calm.
The rigidity of his frame melted when his heartrate became more regulated, long limbs splayed as he engaged in some well-earned corpse time before he vowed to try and discern where he was.
Through slitted eyelids, he could see the shimmering flame beside him - odd in its hue, he thought - but everything else was regrettably generic. Forestry, trees reaching toward an evening sky burning with day's final lightshow. Beyond woodsmoke and the scent of lush greenery, he could discern little else; he appeared to be alone, as far as his senses could tell him, and he viewed the thought as both boon and detriment.
A boon because he did not have to fend of a potential threat, and curse because he lost one potential to have someone point him in the right direction. He needed to find the meadow where everyone was supposed to be gathering.
The moments before he entered the portal returned to him, the furtive look in his sister's two-toned eyes as she held his hand like it was the last time they'd see each other.
And it might be. He had just managed to find his way back to his family after being separated for years.
Though the two of them couldn't look any different if they tried, they were twins - and a sore sensation roosted in his chest at the thought of never seeing Amalthea again. He told her the portal only remain open for moments after he entered, but he had no idea what decision she would make.
Would she face the war and die with The Hand as its Matriarch? Or would she follow him and the others, saving herself and her family?
The thoughts quickly sobered Conor and he righted himself in a clumsy sit, thoughts rambling as he stared into the fire's depth as though it might contain all his answers.
He cursed as, suddenly, the two antlers he carried with him in this world fell from the sky someplace, bonking him on the head before falling ineffectually to the ground with a dense clang.
With a grunt, he pressed a paw to his sore head and frowned deeply at the offending antlers.
He tried not to squirm within its grasp as the meaning of time's passage faded. Each ebb and flow of breath took both moments and eons, everything taking on softened edges and after-images he would have attributed to some sort of inebriation if he didn't know better.
All at once, and yet somehow also with all the gradual ease of a steady climb toward a mountain's peak, reality came crashing down around him. He was thrown off the cliff of nothingness and into the warm air of Mythris. Fortunately for him, he was not dropped from a great height, but it knocked the air from his lungs all the same as he fell flat on his back beside the crackling gold fire.
It took several long moments for him to coax a breath back into his lungs, the success marked with an audible gasp as he sucked the oxygen back into his body. His panic eased, the rapid rise and fall of his chest slowly easing into a pace closer to calm.
The rigidity of his frame melted when his heartrate became more regulated, long limbs splayed as he engaged in some well-earned corpse time before he vowed to try and discern where he was.
Through slitted eyelids, he could see the shimmering flame beside him - odd in its hue, he thought - but everything else was regrettably generic. Forestry, trees reaching toward an evening sky burning with day's final lightshow. Beyond woodsmoke and the scent of lush greenery, he could discern little else; he appeared to be alone, as far as his senses could tell him, and he viewed the thought as both boon and detriment.
A boon because he did not have to fend of a potential threat, and curse because he lost one potential to have someone point him in the right direction. He needed to find the meadow where everyone was supposed to be gathering.
The moments before he entered the portal returned to him, the furtive look in his sister's two-toned eyes as she held his hand like it was the last time they'd see each other.
And it might be. He had just managed to find his way back to his family after being separated for years.
Though the two of them couldn't look any different if they tried, they were twins - and a sore sensation roosted in his chest at the thought of never seeing Amalthea again. He told her the portal only remain open for moments after he entered, but he had no idea what decision she would make.
Would she face the war and die with The Hand as its Matriarch? Or would she follow him and the others, saving herself and her family?
The thoughts quickly sobered Conor and he righted himself in a clumsy sit, thoughts rambling as he stared into the fire's depth as though it might contain all his answers.
He cursed as, suddenly, the two antlers he carried with him in this world fell from the sky someplace, bonking him on the head before falling ineffectually to the ground with a dense clang.
With a grunt, he pressed a paw to his sore head and frowned deeply at the offending antlers.