No Time for Logic (Mirage)

by **Matthew** on January 22nd, 2014, 4:29 pm

His hand tightened, the harlot forced to cling to her as his only anchor in the surreal world she was walking him through. He didn't like that. It was annoying to denounce her one moment, and then be forced to lean on her the next. He thought she had ran his source of frustration dry. Apparently he was completely wrong.

Blue eyes flickered over the flowing waters, his gaze sharp and attentive as she explained the sights before him. The concept of the rivers and streams were easy enough to understand. The concept of his mind simplifying something so that he could understand it was logical to him, and he appreciated that. However, the sort of movement that Tanroa swept him along in was nothing short of mind-boggling. Like the way she had made the world move earlier, the way that she made the two of them move made Matthew's stomach churn. A Goddess walked with him, and here he was having trouble keeping his last lunch down. He still managed to process her words, the harlot keeping silent while he absorbed them. The waterfall was his future? He clenched his jaw, bracing himself as she pulled him through. Oddly, he didn't feel wet. The waterfall was symbolic, it was his mind translating something he couldn't understand. But the visions, the visions were so very real.

Matthew sucked in a breath of air as they flashed by him. He memorized bits and pieces of what he could, storing them away in the library within his skull. There was the smell of salt, people and voices that were both familar and foreign, and now creaking wood beneath his feet as he stood upon old docks. He was walking, but it wasn't actually him, it was just another him.

Coming spring. Docks. Crashing. Sailor. Crane. There was a sign of remembering something in his eyes. Remembering this very moment, perhaps? It all came full circle, didn't it. A corner, the alleyway. Great good, great evil. Save lives, bring peace, kill thousands, bring war. He was careful not to be involved in such things. Why would he be involved then?

His eyes refocused, and suddenly Tanroa had let him go. He turned his head to watch her, silent and stoic. Once again, frustration bubbled up inside of him, the Goddess invoking emotion that should have long since been spent or controlled. He didn't want to be involved in such a choice. He reached out a hand slowly, not taking his eyes from her, fingers outstretching to grab her wrist. "Tanroa-"

*****

"-wait."

His lips finished his sentence right as his eyes opened, a bit of water sloshing up around his tired form. He grunted as he climbed up, feeling tired and drained. Glancing around, the memories fresh in his mind, he realized that everything was back to normal and Tanroa was gone. Carefully studying the scenery before him, a business card caught his eye, and he slowly trudged up to it and plucked it from the shore.

She had edited it. Why? Was this a better edit? He furrowed his brow at the card, flipping it over and examining it closely. He'd give it a try. Pocketing the card, he craned his head, glancing up at the sky and then heading away from the shore. It was getting dark. He'd best figure out someway to survive and find Sunberth. Apparently death wasn't in his near future, so he had some hope. Some.