At this point in her life, she was no stranger to nightmares. However, things had taken an abnormal turn once she was back in Sharlayan from Ultima Thule and reliably back among the living. Being bedridden while she recovered, there wasn’t anything she could do to distract herself. The only thing to do to pass time was one of the things she hated most at this point- sleeping and letting it happen. The first time she woke up bleeding, she brushed it off- reasoning that she had reopened any of her numerous wounds with her tossing and turning. Deep down she knew that was impossible, irrational, by the time she he had woken up, the Scions all assured her that her wounds- external- were healed. So perhaps it was internal again?
The second time, wounds that had been healed for years were searing with pain and beginning to horribly bruise. The third time, her silent scream was cut off as she coughed up blood- and again she tried to brush it away- she had reopened something inside, she’d just heal it and she’d be fine.
And on, and on, and on. By the time she was hearing whispers of a name not her own, she was beyond paranoid- jumping at every little sound. The Scions had to near force her to sleep, made drowsy with magic as she frantically protested that no- she could not sleep. Bad things happened when she fell asleep- bad things that were somehow worse than her nightmares had been before all of this.
This time she was lucid. Or perhaps she had been the other times and had just forgotten. Hells if she knew at this point. She gripped her staff in a death grip within trembling hands, claws digging into the wood.
it wasn’t long before it grew too dark for her to see, something knocking her off balance and her staff out of her grip. The Miqo’te fumbled blindly in the dark for her staff- or anything she could use to get up as it somehow got even darker. Normally she’d be too prideful to voice her distress, but at the moment all bets were off.
Continuing to clumsily shift about on her knees and feel around for anything she could use for support, she started screaming to those she knew would come at her beck and call. “Fray?! Ardbert?! FRAY!!”
But no one came. No one she could see, at least.
HER PRESENCE IS ONE THAT WONDERLAND’S VERY HEART hinged upon : the moment she had stepped into the nightmares weaved by the claws of the Jabberwock, those closely connected to her soul, such as they were, had felt her presence. Among them, three : two gods, one anomaly. To interfere was sacrilege, for she existed in this space only for a single purpose… to fall to sleep, to fall to death. Through these nightmares, her fate would be met, one way or another, or so the star’s and their fates had foretold, eons before her, and so they would eons after. But ALICE LIDDELL had never walked the path that fate had lined for her and she would very well not start to do so now.
Quiet, he beckons himself, consumed in the darkness of a million uneasy, silently woven terrors. Thousands ‘pon thousands of years has it been since the white rabbit had ripped open the edges of his long sealed hole, climbed to the very top where he had once beckoned a young woman in her blue dress. Now he is a singular light within this dark, pure white ‘gainst the black, and it is to her he comes.
The names she calls out in the nightmare are not those of any Wonderlandian’s who seek her presence : but he is all that this broken, mad, insane world is willing to offer her. He should not be here, he is not fated to be, but he has already decided that he will save her.
“Alice,” he calls out quietly at first, footfalls breaking through the distant screams and deafening silence of the Jabberwock’s nightmarish realm. He cannot see her just yet, but already, he arm is outstretched, desperate and searching, because he would beckon her to safety as soon he could. It had been days, weeks, perhaps even months - but it was time now. She is falling. “Alice, can you hear me? Let me help.”
He is a stranger to her, he knows, but the moment he speaks, it is as if life is given to this dreary dream. Suddenly, a singular row of candles is alit between them, a straight path and then, he sees her. His footsteps rush and in moments, the rabbit has come to her side, but not close enough to enter her space, lest he disturb her.
Instead, he reaches out a well meaning hand, indicating he wishes to help her up.
“You can see me now, can’t you? You’re asleep in your realm? You’re dreaming.”
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