Screw this! A snake told him his world was gone, or that he was unable to go back to it. That couldn't be true—he wouldn't let it be true! He must have taken a wrong turn, that's all. Maybe when Kwetau was investigating some possible plants for collection? Yeah, that's sensible. One of those might have drugged him up! He could've been out of his mind for a while; all he had to do was retrace his steps and find his way back to the traveler's path.

None of this stuff looked right, regardless. He headed north from the place he'd met the snake. Then, when the scent of water became prevalent, he followed that. After a day or so of roaming east, the sound of flowing water caught in his ears. That must have been the Wallows! Invigorated, Kwetau began to rush along. The Wallows were an important place within the Forgelands of his birth; there would be many people camped there, bathing or drinking or whatever else, and he knew he could find a messenger there to take word back to his master—!

On and on he went, charging along the bank when he found the edge of the water. He hurried, all but tripping over himself, until the sound of the falls became so deafening that he couldn't even feel his heart thundering in his chest. The Wallows never looked like this. It had always been a swath of wetland in the middle of the dry, not this descending staircase of water on water on water. As Kwetau stared down at the scene before him, complete with rising mist and the roar of the water, he had to conclude that he had been wrong.

No. No. I just have to keep going! He told himself. As he plunged down a ledge, then around a bend and further still along the rim of the falls, he went to duck around an overhang of stone and crouched there, despondent. The dog kicked a stone and listened to it clatter, falling away in to the wilderness beyond, where it might have been picked up by the water and drawn away. Then, another, and another—until he was too frustrated and too damp to bother moving.

Out of sheer desperation he begins to carve symbols in to the wall beside himself: shapes that meant nothing except in the Forgelands, cut with claw or the sideways swipe of his tooth, followed by the spitting of mud from his tongue. Shapes and sigils meant for travelers; although the earth here was soft, and chunks fell out as he worked.

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The Empress did what she did not often do – she stole away from her palace, and left the kingdom of Tianlong entirely.

The Dreams were what had compelled her to do so.

Yue was no stranger to dreams – they plagued her with their truths, their glimpses into the future. It was the only time the woman ever achieved deep clarity of her goals, and how she might achieve them. Her entire life had been built around her dreams. They drove her. They gave her purpose.

That was why the begging voice frightened her so. She mustn't allow her dynasty to fall – not again. Not when everything she had ever known had been slashed from her, and she had just begun to rebuild.

Yue asked no one to attend her. The learnings she found here, she wished to keep for herself alone. She must speak to Shenlei after she had more information, and this could not be trusted to anyone but herself.

The ivory empress fled south under the cover of night, and by the end of the next day, had reached what lay in her very backyard – waters crashing, falling, a dizzying array of crystals.

A creature unlike herself was slashing at a wall. Her eyes widened, shocked at how violent it felt. Markings, but they meant nothing. Was this the man who had spoken to her, so desperate?

She could not summon words – this entire situation was so foreign to her. So, with hackles raised for reasons unknown, the orchid released a velveteen bark, and waited to see if she could break him from his stupor by sound alone.

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Rune Discovery : 「 Success! 」

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What a strange thing to see - those overlapping colors, the strange shapes that splattered and formed in the spots. It was enough to cause interest, and for the moment the sound of the falls is drowned out by a thrumming pulse. Mythris' Heartbeat, perhaps. It sounds strangely like the buzzing of a swarm of locusts with the thundering roar of a stampede of wildebeests combined. It sounded like the very essence of being wild.

The chunks of earth that tumbled down and then sank to the very depths exposed something else.

The rune suddenly had space, and then! -- it tumbled down, knocking off the edge of the wall and the uncomfortable sound as it 'PLUNKED' into the water. It sounded nothing like the rocks had. The rune was thankfully still visible, the roar of the falls restored now that the rune was released. You can still claim it - if you brave the deeper waters and are willing to take the risk.

Perhaps when you are done, you can draw your story for those who may come next. Perhaps even for the pale beauty who calls out now. Perhaps she has keen eyes; perhaps she had witnessed the rune. Hopefully, she wasn't so distracted by your expressive art attempts.

If it wasn't clear yet, Kwe'tau was in utter denial about his status as a lost boy in a new world. He continued to carve away at the dirt until shapes emerged, intent on putting down some kind of message for any passers-by that might recognize it; this pidgin language of sigils, known to most who lived in the Forgelands, would surely be of great value here.

As parts of the earth cut free and fell away, he came to the realization that the wall here was too soft. The water had eroded much, and there was no use in him trying to do anything! As parts crumbled, he caught sight of something strange—an ember, he thought at first. It was a stone set with a sigil of its own, the kind he had never seen before. It sprang loose as if alive, then tumbled in to the water!

Oh! He lunged for it, but no, it was just out of his grasp—and sat bobbing there, and sinking moments later. Then, there was a bark.

Kwe'tau looked sharply towards that sound. It was lighter, sharper than the rumble of the falls. He looked utterly manic; eyes wide, ears big and round and forward. I need that rock! He all but screeched, and then dove for the stone in the water.

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The spotted soul was manic. Scratching at the wall, crazed, potentially rabid – the Empress grimaced, unable to accept the display she was watching. It was vulgar in a way that made her uncomfortable, and there was very little, save the desecration of innocents, that made Yue uncomfortable.

He looked at her, desperation leaking from every orifice. The Empress stepped forward, planting her feet into the ground like flagstaffs, momentarily forgetting that she was alone and speaking as though she had an army behind her. “Be calm I say! Stow your hand!” and, just as she said that, she watched the blue thing plunk into the water.

It was only a moment from when it appeared to when it disappeared, but they both had seen it. He only turned to look at her, eyes unfazed, uttering that he needed it. But how could he need it, when it was she who needed it?! “No, NO–” she shouted, her composure unraveling in an instant.

The Empress lunged forward, only to see the spotted desert creature plunge into the depths. If he found the thing, then it was his. The dreams, the voice that entered her head at night, they all told her that she could not let that happen. The Empress had only a moment to think, but made her split-second decision in half the time.

“Oh, gods…” was all she said, before steeling her resolve, bunching her muscles, and diving into the churning waters. She stretched out her body and forced her eyes open, hoping to locate a gleam, and hoping equally as much that the other soul had not already set itself upon it.

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