[House of Broken Mirrors] Do Not Enter. (Naia)

[Aislyn Leavold]

OOCNote: I'm an idiot.
As I mentioned in the original post, I had the majority of my reply all typed up, but, because I keep all my replies to a thread in one document, I accidentally copied the wrong post to reply with. Sorry!

This had not been an outcome Aislyn had planned for.
She hadn’t expected luck to run her way. She’d expected the metal candleholder to bounce off the glass- maybe break it, revealing the wooden backing of a mirror behind it. She hadn’t thought it would work.
For a moment, Aislyn pondered the idea that, perhaps, the twisted joke that was the mirror house wasn’t so cruel after all.
Then came the voice.

Strangled and raspy, the mirror woman spoke, obviously in pain from whatever glass had shattered back and hit her, along with whatever damaged she’d sustained from the past. For a few ticks, Aislyn just stared, and the mirror woman stared back, her gaze at first unfocused, before finally settling on the illusionist’s mildly injured form. There was a certain relief in the woman’s eyes, then a state of worry. Gradually, the woman approached her, and Aislyn took a cautionary step back- the woman’s stance was hunched and uneasy- not a very heartwarming figure. Not to mention the fact that, despite the proof that this woman was now indeed proven not to be a figment of Aislyn’s imagination, she seemed more menacing.
At least reflections couldn’t hurt you.

Ironically, as soon as she thought it, a singular shard of glass fell from one of the shattered mirror’s broken frames, making an echoey clash as it struck the floor. It was as if the house was reacting to her thoughts, refusing her idea that reflections where just as unreal as they seemed, and thus couldn’t hurt her.
She was probably reading too far into it, but still, the idea terrified her.

Once again, the woman spoke, slowly shuffling towards Aislyn, her feet sweeping the ground in an, at first silly-looking, then understandable fashion. Lyn hadn’t planned to move anytime soon, but considering her surroundings were covered in a sea of glass, the idea of probing the floor first seemed like a very good one.

”I’m… I’m fine…” ‘Fine’ didn’t seem to cut it. The metallic taste of blood was fully recognizable on her tongue, though where she was bleeding from was unknown. Realistically, it was likely she was bleeding from a variety of places, though her mind was too numb to do a full search for where at the moment. Her concern was more towards the strange woman, and how she’d found herself in the same predicament Aislyn had.

With Aislyn’s soft words, the woman began speaking again, this time seeming as if she would suggest a plan, yet after just two words, she stopped, her hand reaching up to tentatively touch her face, where a small shard of glass had caught her cheek. Neither woman was in any state of full physical or mental capacity, nor did it seem like they’d be improving any time soon. Aislyn was already a paranoid person as it was; the constant staring of the shadow in the mirror didn’t help her. At the moment, however, it seemed like the trickling line of blood dancing down the mirror woman’s face was the most disturbing thing at the moment, and, though Aislyn wasn’t afraid of blood, the injury unnerved her.
Once again, she repeated herself.
”Absolutely fine…”

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech ||| Thoughts ||| oocReally, don't worry. Your writing is marvelous and worth any wait, mistakes happen- they come and go. You're a brilliant writer, and that's all that matters.

The sounds of the woman's voice near over through her, and it took a great deal of effort for the swayed and sillied Svefra to prevent a cruel laughter slipping from her cracked lips.

'I'd almost forgotten what another voice sounded like.'

She marveled almost meekly at the woman- with her pretty face and stunning hair, the light far too dim to give proper detail of her eyes and complexion, but it seemed that Laviku shone in the woman before her's irises as he did her own. But it was a fleeting thought. A momentarily lapse, and an utter waste of time.

She collected herself and gave a sigh, drawing another breath in as she did further strength, thoughts and prayers once more going shortly to both Zulrav and Laviku, and she let her body swag slightly as her gnosis centered her, head tilting in the direction of the ocean - she could almost hear the waves.

A few more words left the possible sister Svefra, and a haze took over Naia's gaze and she though - thought she caught glimpse of something stalking them in the mirrors once more. Or was it just herself?- the form that was so called blessed upon her by Nyka, once more slipping and stirring about to once more remind her of how much a nuisance and outright pain in the rear.

But it didn't feel right.

She felt her mouth dry, and liquid fall from her face. "The ocean is that way," her voice had turned coarse, and there was exhaustion slowly seeping into the tone itself. Gods, she needed this woman to respond- to give her strength and reason and courage to continue - for she feared her perseverance would leave her if the stake was of her life alone.

Then, her hand moved to her cheek, and she gave it the shortest notice. Blood. Right. Of course. Her hand near shook as she wiped the smear over the tattered, torn mess of what was once of relatively decent blouse, and gathered whatever wits she maintained. "The door," she continued, nodding as her memory fogged and clouded. Where was the door relative to the sea? She turned and twisted in place as her gnosis writhed. "The door is that way, I think."

A surge of worry and anxiety then took her, and she ran a hand through her sodden hair as doubt became wrought within her. "... I think, Laat have me." Her gaze then fell to her feet, and she brushed further foot spots within the bed of glass as she worked her way closer to the blonde woman, ensuring her foot was slow and sure as she paid mind to how daunted her hopeful ally may prove, "Are you local- is there any..." she waved her hand as she gave pause from her systematic movements, "local knowledge or hints or tricks?"

Naia knew she was grasping at straws, though she forbid the seed of hope that had sprung from being too soon shadowed - even though, she thought, no local in their right mind would enter such a place.

But the same could have been said of Kelwyn's Knocker.

[Aislyn Leavold]

For a few seconds, Aislyn worried she’d made a grand mistake.
She could hear ringing in her ears, and the fact that there appeared to be isolated feelings of pins-and-needles in various places on her body was worrying. One of those places happened to be the majority of her left arm, which, upon closer inspection, appeared to be because of the alarming amount of tiny shards of glass either stuck to or cut into the skin.
Not a good sign.
After she was sufficiently worried at her state of body (and mind), Aislyn decided to investigate the new presence, if investigating was staring at the woman, who, of course, stared back.

In the dim light, Lyn could hardly make anything out, but soon enough several features became apparent; One, the woman appeared to be very shaky, swaying a bit in the still air. Two, it wasn’t yet clear if this person was friend or foe. Lastly, she had most definitely taken a worse hit from the glass than Aislyn did. Which, concern #2 or not, was something Aislyn really wanted to investigate further. For now, however, she stayed quiet, hoping the other woman would speak first.
Which, eventually, she did.

”The ocean is that way.”

The ocean?
Aislyn turned towards the way she had gestured. An unexplored pathway, of course, but no visible tip that the ocean was in that direction. The illusionist was halfway through opening her mouth to ask how the hai she’d known that when the woman wiped away the blood that had been collecting from the multiple, tiny wounds scattered across her face. She’d been through a lot. It’s better to leave her alone and just follow.
Aislyn was all for leaving the sea of glass that they’d created, but the woman didn’t make any move to head down the hallway she’d first indicated. Instead, she slowly rotated, adjusting her view. So she knew where she was going… Except she didn’t know where she was going.
So they were lost.
Not that they had ever been un-lost, but… Her hope certainly hadn’t lasted long. But if the woman didn’t provide the help they definitely needed, Lyn was going to need to find it herself.
Her newfound companion continued her circling, running a hand through her hair before resolving to move in Aislyn’s direction. Or shuffle. She shuffled in Aislyn’s direction.

The illusionist made an effort not to edge away, instead distracting herself with the idea of finding a large enough shard of glass to use as a weapon, should the need surface. Not against her new companion… Unless the need arrive.
Aislyn took a look up at the woman, who seemed to still be shaking. And shuffling. Lyn couldn’t blame her- she herself was still shaking from the whole experience.
No. Not against her new companion.

Finding a sufficient shard of glass, Aislyn wrapped it in a piece of loose cloth, forming a crude but probably (hopefully) useful handle. It was then time to move on.
”Are you local?”
Perhaps it wasn’t time to move on.
”Is there any local knowledge, or hints or tricks?”

She took a moment to think. Was there anything they could do? Nothing had seemed fruitful so far, for either of them, and only Ionu knew how much longer the woman had been in the house compared to Aislyn.

”...Don’t look in the mirrors.”

Aislyn wasn’t sure where the idea had come from, or if it had even been her idea at all. Either way, it was a solid plan. Nothing else would protect them from the horrors of the house, and refusing to acknowledge the horror’s existence was the first step to forcing it to go away, right? It couldn’t be that hard to do… All they needed to accomplish was getting out alive. That wasn’t too much to ask for.

Half-leading and half-following, Aislyn kept her eyes on the ground and her hand around the cloth-encased shard of glass as they continued into the house. Every once in a while, she’d look up at her companion, but after a while, she didn’t dare continue checking. Whenever she’d look up, there would always be a mirror right behind her gaze, sporting a dark shadow or bright pair of eyes every time the piece was caught in her line of sight. And, as they had progressed, the figure would get closer, or the eyes brighter. Slowly but surely, they’d grow nearer, and, after what felt like bells of walking (though it could have only been chimes), the shadow was practically pressed against the glass.
That was the last time Aislyn had looked up to check on her friend.

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech ||| Thoughts

Naia coughed, and a soft nod then followed, her own gaze flitting towards the mirrors before once more towards the woman, "No mirrors, that... that I can do.". She forced a smile as she then let her gaze fall to the woman's makeshift shank, and wondered if perhaps following suit would be any of a good idea.

'These are the problems that come of fighting battles with words, I suppose. I am quite utterly useless.'

Her mouth was dry, again, and a hand fell on her gut, the rage of her gnosis almost tugging her towards the sea as the weary pair began their snake through the hall of mirrors once more, neither of them provided any more comfort than presence alone.

She could have sworn she felt her gnosis shift to the left on her body, though it rarely moved in her waking hours, and she pressed her mind to focus instead on crashing waves and sea salt, the Ocean's pull provided as much comfort as a warm fire would have. She could not, however, discern if such a direction - towards her seas - was the smartest way to go. Should they attempt to return to the door by which they both entered? No. It closed, remember? Getting confused? Forgetting?

Stealing glances at her friend seemed to give the Svefra a one sided sense of comfort, for it was not once that it seemed that the woman caught the other's gaze, though the catching of Nyka's little creatures in the mirrors each time she dared to raise her gaze, she figured, were perhaps the cause for such.

Another prayer to Zulrav helped clear her thoughts. 'Enlighten me, Enlighten me, Enlighten me. Where is the wind? Is there a draft?- This is the City of Illusion. Zulrav enlighten me, Laviku guide me.'

It was perhaps a chime after that Naia felt the slightest turbulence in the air, and the sudden shift in direction, stilling her breath and body as she tried to tell for the speed and direction. The wind came from somewhere, did it not? Unfortunately, it seemed, the woman had to ignore her given advice, for it was in the direction of a rather tall and proud mirror that the winds were rushing to, and it an image of Naia's younger self up in ash and in smoke stood crisp and clear. 'Should I have died that day? Was it my fault that she died? Is that what its saying?'. Was it another door, or another trick?

"Forgive my ignorance..." It was then she wet her lips, and the first time she looked for her new friend in the shadowed in what seemed to be chimes. "Illusions... how do they work? This place is filled with Illusions?- Magic? It must be." The thought hung in the air. "I know little of magic."

[Aislyn Leavold]

The red eyes in the mirror echoed in Aislyn’s memory. She’d resigned to walking blindly now, her eyes locked on her boots as she walked. She let the other woman lead. Somehow, if this mystery woman knew where the ocean was, she could lead them out of there, right?
Aislyn could only hope.

After her warning, and her last look up to the woman, it was silent for a long time. A really, really long time. Perhaps only chimes, but they were long, long chimes. Several sounds, most of which being akin to crunching glass or ominous, far-off whispers, or the occasional blood-curdling scream that Aislyn was ninety-percent sure she’d imagined, wafted through the air, but otherwise, the atmosphere was still.
That was, until a draft began to itch at the woman’s skin.

It was cold, and possibly held the remnants of rain. It was the best thing Aislyn had felt all day, and immediately, she lifted her eyes to search for the source of the wind. Unfortunately, this neglected her own rule of staying away from the mirrors. Everywhere she looked, there was a mirror, and in the mirror, there was a face. A very, very familiar face. A little boy, with holes instead of eyes, looked back from every mirror. A little voice, who opened his mouth and spoke with Aislyn’s voice.

’I knew you’d understand.’

The woman jumped back, her nerves betraying her. Her companion, however, continued ahead, towards the end of the hallway, either unaware of or unable to see what Aislyn had seen in the mirror.
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Aislyn followed, averting her eyes to the large mirror that the woman was leading them towards. She had last seen that little boy, who actually wasn’t all that little, as he must have been something like twenty-four now, several years before. Aislyn was surprised she even remembered his face, though she supposed it was hard to forget. Markis Qiu, the boy from the night Aislyn had tried to forget.

Gathering her wits and following her companion’s lead, Aislyn advanced towards the mirror, looking for any possible way for it to open, or change, or something that would explain the draft. For the moment, the mirror was empty, but she doubted it would stay that way. And, from the look on the other woman’s face, she doubted that it really was empty at all. As their eyes met, the woman finally spoke, and Aislyn gave up on trying to pry the mirror from the wall for the moment.

”Illusions… How do they work?”

Ionu save her, what a question.
And who better to ask.

”...I assume, then, you’re not from around here.” Aislyn let her eyes drop to the mirror-shard knife that was beginning to cut into her hand from how tightly she was gripping it.
”Well, I promise our illusions aren’t all this morbid. Usually.”

It was only when they stopped moving that Aislyn realized just how much everything ached, and how tired she really was. She took a moment to clear the ground of any loose glass shards, then sat down, leaning against the wall.
”Illusions are… a peculiar thing. I’ve lived here all my life and I still couldn’t tell you just how they work. Each one is individual, yet somehow, they all think alike. All partially controlled by Ionu, I suppose, but have minds of their own at the same time. I think Ionu might put an illusion into motion, then from there it takes a course of its own discretion.” She thought for a moment, ”I mean, maybe these things… Rainbow fish, flaming serpents in the streets-” She nodded towards the mirror, ”Maybe they know they’re illusions, so they know their time is short- a season at most- and they try to do as much as they can in what time they have.”

”I mean, the ones in this house… The House of Broken Mirrors… Maybe they’re different, because they’re attached to a place instead of simply allowed to run free, but they can also obviously see inside your mind, so it makes you wonder… Not what can they do, but what can’t they?”

This had to be the most words she’d consecutively said to someone who was not her own mother in over a year. Exhaustion truly was wearing on her, to the point where interacting with someone didn’t seem like the worst possible thing that could happen.
”I mean, you could be an illusion, even if I can see and hear and touch you. There’s really no way to tell.” It was rather hypocritical of her to say such a thing, considering she was, actively, an illusion herself, but the woman didn’t know that.
”Which brings me to wonder. I don’t believe I even know your name.” She extended her arm, in just about the friendliest gesture she could make, ”I’m Maya. Welcome to Alvadas.”

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech ||| Thoughts

This particular image wasn't all too awful, she figured. She was younger, then. Had more hair, more flesh on her bone, her eyes were those of someone who was a Nykan true and through, or as close to one who only came to the city in their adolescence could be. Such a love-hate relationship she had with the place. Its tall and proud people and the monsters that go bump in the night. The silent calm of the expression to the girl in the mirror. The old Naia. She wasn't her anymore. She went up in smoke when her grandmother did, or was clawed and torn away when she was ripped from the sea. No Svefra should be taken far from her salt water.

A movement from the woman drew Naia's attention, and soon their gazes met, answers then spilled. She wasn't all too sure what she was expecting when the woman spoke, for her words slipped and fell at a far greater rate than she could have ever imagined, with so little she'd said before.

'Our' illusions- was this ownership spoken from a woman of love and heritage for the city, or ability? The Svefra half thought that she would soon be awarded with an answer as the woman took seat, only to be quite fairly offered the answer to her questions, Naia's own gaze briefly flitting to the girl in the mirror's, as though worried she had moved. The short flit in between words turned into a longer stare, the longer she dwelt, the more she saw her father's sickened face, and she tore her watering eyes away to focus on the blonde.

So much thought had been focused on the words and remaining upright that the pleasantry threw her off guard, and a small chuckle rolled from the brunette's lungs when the initial catch of surprise faded. "It is a pleasure to officially meet you, Maya," she took another breath, and offered as much of a smile as she could manage, the curve taking to her lips reigniting the pain of a prior sealed cut. "My name is Naia, and I feel very welcomed indeed, as you could imagine," she couldn't help the dripping sarcasm, or the way she then lowered herself to her knees, the situation the two were taken in beginning to wear on her.

"Naia and Maya," she rolled the two names around in her tongue, a slight accent taking to them in the harshness of her vowels. "What an ironic little pair we are..." the words came as a silly after thought, and she soon shook the twisted entertainment she was forcing out of her, and tugged up her still wet shirt to expose her stomach, the large swelling seas of the Suvan she hoped would makes things clearer.

Maya had given what knowledge she had to the situation, what's fair is fair, and the woman showed off her gnosis with as much pride as any Svefra who had to explicitly state their ethnicity often did.

"I always assume too much of people- I am Svefra, and although I've only the first of Laviku's marks, I can tell you which direction the sea is, and generally if we're getting closer or further, what ever good that does." She pressed her lips, and rolled her aching shoulders, "I'm not sure I have much else to offer."

[Aislyn Leavold]

”Naia and… Maya. Ironic indeed.” Her hesitation was twinged with guilt.
That was a new feeling.
Guilt.
She’d never really felt guilty before; never for the name ‘Maya’, at least. It was a strange feeling, and even stranger was how it came out of thin air. Nothing was particularly special about the woman, nor the circumstances (though the latter was debateable), so why, suddenly, the change in feeling?
Aislyn made an executive decision to completely ignore it.

Svefra was a new word, as was Laviku, though the latter was more familiar. She had read something about a Laviku somewhere, though for the life of her, she couldn’t place where. God of the ocean, and… the sea. Or something. Though the woman’s words caught her attention. First of Laviku’s marks. Laviku was a god- Aislyn knew that much for sure- did he mark those of his favour as Ionu did?
Did all gods do that?
From how the woman described it, it seemed so. She had powers, as a gift, from Laviku, just as Aislyn had a gift from Ionu. It was strange, but the illusionist had never thought of her gnosis like that. Like one of many. It had never occurred to her that other gods also marked their favourited.

In a sort of ghost pain, the woman’s shoulder burned where her mark was. The Svefra showed pride in her mark, while Aislyn hid hers. Again, the strange, guilty feeling returned. What was it about Naia that made her feel so bad?

”That’s plenty to offer, though. No matter how much the house may try to turn us around, the ocean…” She trailed off, trying to collect her ideas into a coherent plan. ”The ocean doesn’t move. So we- you- follow the ocean, and eventually we’ll find an exit.”

Once again, Aislyn’s eyes rested on the large mirror that lay opposite her, propped up against the wall. In it was her, relatively normal, reflection. A woman sitting in a small, dusty circle of glass, her arms resting on her knees as she spoke. There was something about it, though, that was off. Slowly, she scanned the image, picking out any detail that didn’t make sense. The woman in the mirror was barefoot, it seemed, though the rest of the clothing matched Aislyn’s to a T. As she flexed her feet, the reflection did the same. What a peculiar thing to change.
The reflection’s expression- more of a weary traveller than a lost artist- was the same, as was her blonde hair, blue eyes, everything, it seemed.

That was, until the background of the reflection moved. Just a shift, but still blatantly obvious, forcing her attention to what was behind the reflection, rather than what was in the foreground. As they shifted into view, it became obvious. The detail she had been missing; the figure in the mirror had wings. Large, black, oily wings.
It was disturbing to see such a thing projected onto Maya. All of the woman’s usual nightmares projected wings onto Aislyn herself. Still, she ignored it. The artist stood up once again, the reflection following her movements as her wings billowed behind her. Eventually, she dragged her focus from the mirror back onto Naia. It was time to move again.

”Lead the way.”

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech | Date, 515 AV | Thoughts

Naia wasn't at all too sure how she felt.

The feeling of usefulness - need - was one that always gave her a churning of air and lightness in her gut, but the air then heavied and bowed at the weight of responsibility passed upon her. What if the illusions affect her gnosis? What if she pulls them both into a trap? The ocean hadn't moved so much as she could tell, the rolling of tides and waves always seen to tug faintly in the same direction, for she had kept herself centred upon Laviku thus far. What if the mirrors took it from her?

"Alright," she hummed, a huff of air leaving her as she noted how drawn to the mirrors the two of them were. Was it another mirror they had to break through?

A hand fell to her stomach, and she clutched he piece of flesh where her gnosis writhed for support, trying her very well best to numb herself to the cold. 'You've sailed in the Northern Oceans, a little wind and water can't killed you.' She gave a nod to herself and swallowed hard. "Its that way," she gave a gesture to the off right passage way. It was a smaller split off the trail, one that she wasn't all too sure was a proper pathway, had the dim lights not lit glowed so.

It got a little quieter, then. The crunch of things underfoot faded as they walked, and the woman was not the most sure if it was their path that was clearing because they neared an end, or if the tricks the mirrors were playing had decided to change note. What time was it? Was it late- almost the next morning? Did the mirrors change like clock work, or was it something far more fluid?

Another draft snaked by them, and passage seemed to open its mouth wider, and Naia paused what had up until then been a focused march, taking a glance into the empty mirror by her right. "Can you feel that?- There's another draft." She cocked her head and felt for the direction, spinning on her heel twice over before she could decide from which way and where it came from. It was another Mirror that she decided was the source, the thin strips between each and either side rushing through a chilling rush. It wasn't at all like the mirror she broke to get to her new friend, it was not rusted or dirty, or portraying another pathway, for she saw Maya, just not herself, and otherwise it was crisp and clear in presentation.

Looking to the blonde for the woman's take, already set to 'respectfully dismantle' another mirror or two to find the source of Zulrav's breeze, Naia rested.

[Aislyn Leavold]

As the Svefra woman led them further into the maze, Aislyn felt the temperature rather rapidly dropping. At first, it was just a rush of cool air, from a draft somewhere, but then it was a breeze through the narrow passageway. A taunting reminder that somehow, somewhere, there was an escape to the House, just out of reach. It was almost a winter wind, crisp and freezing, not humid as the air had been outside. But it did not lack the scent of rain.

At Naia’s question of whether or not Aislyn had noticed the draft, the woman nodded feverishly. Perhaps the House was letting them go. Letting them free. It didn’t take long for her companion to find where the possible freedom had been coming from, either. A window, shiny and new in contrast to what they had seen before, sitting unsuspectingly on the wall, just like the mirrors around it. Tentatively, Aislyn hovered her hand over the side, and, after a few ticks, felt the breeze that had haunted them. This was definitely the mirror.
Unless it wasn’t, which would be rather unfortunate.

Nonetheless, Aislyn decided to investigate, pushing her fingers against the glass, just in case it was going to let her pass outright. No luck. Her fingers hit glass, the nails making a rather unsatisfying tink as it was confirmed to be solid. So they’d have to break it, then.

”Stand back.”

This time, it was her turn to do the smashing. She followed the woman’s earlier idea, taking a candlestick and preparing to strike it against the glass. It took her almost a chime to prepare herself, such destruction more nerve wracking than originally anticipated. When she was finally ready, she drew back her makeshift weapon, and struck the glass as hard as she could. Large, spindling cracks spread out across the surface, creating a spider web of imperfections. It took her two more swings at the mirror before the pieces actually began falling, revealing…

..nothing.

A blank, wooden board behind the mirror. The backing of a regular mirror, as if she’d broken a household furniture piece instead of a strange mirror in a strange house that was supposedly meant to be her escape. Dropping the candlestick, Aislyn pushed her hand up against the wood, brushing dangerously sharp glass shards onto the floor. There had to be something there. This was the exit. The answer.

”Are you sure you felt it? The ocean… Are you sure?”

She had trusted the word of a woman she barely knew. What if she had led them in the wrong direction? What if this was nowhere near the exit, and they were just going in circles?
What if, what if…

What if the answer was right in front of them?

The chill in the room was no less present than it had been before Aislyn had broken the mirror. Nothing, other than the loss of the reflection, had changed. The breeze was still there, and with it, the draft.
Cautiously, the woman pushed her fingers behind the mirror, where the air had come from. The mirror had space behind it, where the draft was escaping. Of course it did, how else could they have felt the draft in the first place? There had to have been some opening to the outside world, else there would have been no tip to which mirror was the exit.

Pushing more, Aislyn began to pry back the wood, shifting the broken mirror towards her, and increasing the draft. She could feel raindrops as they were blown into her hand by the wind that had led them to the mirror. They had been overthinking the puzzle. Not through, but behind. That was how they were to escape.
”...Of bloody course.”

Stepping through the mirror-shaped hole in the wall, the woman found herself in an alleyway, the darkness of the cloudy night replacing what candlelight they'd had before.
Never in her life had Aislyn ever been so grateful to see rain.

[Naia Whitewater]

Speech | Thoughts | oocNot the most proud of this one, but I hope it’s a good enough!

The hurried nod that Maya had given her at the feeling of the draft had certainly been in the affirmative, and the Svefra pulled her drying clothes close to her body as her ally had gone about the next step to whatever plan or action she'd chosen. The sound of nails on glass had her flinch, and the warning of a women who was about to take the violent action that Naia had been poised to commit hit her hard and by surprise. She worried the breath that rolled from her mouth might have sounded condescending, Naia then taking a further step back and too the side, the time it took Maya to ready for the blow enough that the women had lost herself in the reflective surface, and shielded her eyes just a fraction too late.

Luckily, she was more than satisfied with the sound of the shatter, and only felt the smallest brush of shards and fragments on flesh, though the taste of fresh blood indicated that she’d been pierced by yet another stray shard. For someone who was not physically mild, it seemed Naia held a lot of pent up aggression.

The satisfaction dropped to dread, and old wooden panels stared back at them, and she felt a jab to the heart and pride at the questioning of her ocean sense. Her words in response were quick and quiet, perhaps too much so to catch, "Of course I felt it, can feel it, it’s still here- there," she was growing truly tired then, and with her exhaustion came the far less favourable sides of her personality, the snapping of her patience and optimism being the very lease of them. Another damned, dead wall. Another hope dashed. A growing part of her wished to burn the place to the ground. The wind was teasing them.

Her anguish evaporated as she watched Maya fiddle and tug and pull at the wall, and found herself swallowing hard and peering on in confusion like a petching idiot, the blanket of shards across the ground causing her to keep her distance. A question leapt to her lips, but she didn't feel she had the right to talk, to ask or inquire or demand, and so she stood, and felt as the draft increased and then soon a gap enough for the two of them to fit was made, and Maya slid through to her escape, Naia catching the door behind her. 'You're not letting her go and keeping me in.'

The wood was rough against her own calloused skin, and she found herself standing in the doorway for a spell before she could muster herself to leave, a worried survey of the hallways passing before she deemed it safe to pick through the glass covered ground, as though in fear that the things that moved in the mirrors would surely follow them out.

The moment she crossed the threshold, she could feel the cutting rain, and see through the clouds where she imagined the moon ought to be, and hear in full majesty the howling winds and gusts. She revelled in Zulrav's storm, and searched for Maya's figure in the dark, her own gaze taking its sweet time to adjust in the sudden blackness of the alley. The woman’s named formed on her lips, but no words fell, and another strong gust caused Naia’s body to to rock off and out of balance, stumbling forward until she bumped into another warm form. "Maya? Is that you? I am so sorry," her words were hoarse, and she backed up and blinked hard, a loud SLAM causing a shudder to split the woman’s spine, as the house of mirrors sealed itself once more.

"Who are you? What was that?" the words that sliced through the darkness in reply were jarring, loud and thick with an accent she didn't recognise, and the Svefra's thoughts scrambled to make sense of the situation. "I- you- Sorry I thought you were..." her words trailed, and the breathing of man - the voice certainly sounded masculine - grew louder, closer, hotter. "Excuse me," her right land found the alley wall behind her, and she slipped off as her finger skidded across the hard stone, murmurings and damnations soon fading.

Maya was gone, and now Naia was so uncomfortably alone.