Elsewhere
He was headed for the stairs. William’s pace was slow, and he didn’t reach for Kalen for support nor did Kalen offer it to the young man. There was the sort of isolation that he’d grown accustomed to. You don’t reach for a hand, you don’t push for something, you don’t ask because-
Here, Dr. Sepulveda said, you’re welcome.
The voice seemed out of place, and was cause enough to make the Hermetic pause just outside of the hallway. Bloody hand print on pristine walls seemed cliché, and it was, but blood does not care for poetic devices. Mulled wine stained everything.
You okay?
You see that? "All this time, every time anything happens, it's cake with him. 'Is there going to be –
The rest of the speech was lost when William moved as quickly as his body would allow him back to the room. The argument between the two voices- Ned and Sepulveda- continued. “See? See- Kalen!”
He sounded elated, overjoyed when he called back to the other man to head back to the room. Kalen sighed, but moved back to the hellish sight of the study. “Do you hear it?” William asked, “They- it’s- they can’t be dead- listen! Sepulveda wasn’t here-”
“Fae, it isn’t-”
“I can hear them-”
Oh well ex-cuuuuuse me! I guess we're just going to forget about the time you thought making deals with a noncorporeal entity that calls itself The Keeper of Secrets was such a good idea you had to kick down my door in the middle of the night— Sepulveda crows.
-Says the asshole who brought a Dreamspeaker to our doorstep because he fucked up her ability to cross the bloody Gauntlet! How do you even-- Ned retorts
“It is natural to feel the way you’re feeling,” Kalen told the younger man.
“Listen- they- I couldn’t make this up- it’s real.”
“You’ve slipped before,” Kalen reminded him, “seen things that weren’t there. You know this, who is to say what is real and what isn’t save for what your own mind deigns to be real-”
“Kalen, please, I know I hear them.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he told his former student. Kalen’s voice was soft, almost comforting in the awkward way Kalen could be comforting, as though he did not understand the basics of how to interact but tried to emulate them all the same, “but you know that not every voice you’ve heard is the dead. You know that you’ve slipped before. This… I swore at first, when she died, that I saw Melody everywhere, but I know that isn’t true.”
“-It isn’t like that-”
“-and we have talked, and I told you- magic being real and your ability to wield it has no bearing on whether or not you’re connected with this world and what is true and True. You’re in shock, your imagination is filling in the blanks.”
The argument on the other side ends, the conversation between himself and Kalen having taken the time to drown out whatever words would have given the indication that he needed an anchor to reality, something that would give some indication that the world he was currently existing in was the false one and he just needed to find the way out again. In their own ways, the denizens of this world were aware they would cease to be if the wayward dreamer ever woke up.
Something inside of William Holmes had a self-preservation instinct.
“We’re going,” Kalen said, and as an aside or perhaps some olive branch, offered to help William leave. He moved out to the car faster than the other man’s body could probably handle at the time, more desperately than William seemed to realize at the time. They needed to leave; he needed to leave. Things in their infancy are vulnerable, fall apart quickly. Kalen Holliday, or whatever he was, wanted to live.
---
earthbound.
William was blissfully unaware of what was going on at that moment, though his body did seem tense. He blinked, though it was involuntary and slow. Sometimes, you just need to blink.
He really would have liked some cake right now. He always likes cake.
He was headed for the stairs. William’s pace was slow, and he didn’t reach for Kalen for support nor did Kalen offer it to the young man. There was the sort of isolation that he’d grown accustomed to. You don’t reach for a hand, you don’t push for something, you don’t ask because-
Here, Dr. Sepulveda said, you’re welcome.
The voice seemed out of place, and was cause enough to make the Hermetic pause just outside of the hallway. Bloody hand print on pristine walls seemed cliché, and it was, but blood does not care for poetic devices. Mulled wine stained everything.
You okay?
You see that? "All this time, every time anything happens, it's cake with him. 'Is there going to be –
The rest of the speech was lost when William moved as quickly as his body would allow him back to the room. The argument between the two voices- Ned and Sepulveda- continued. “See? See- Kalen!”
He sounded elated, overjoyed when he called back to the other man to head back to the room. Kalen sighed, but moved back to the hellish sight of the study. “Do you hear it?” William asked, “They- it’s- they can’t be dead- listen! Sepulveda wasn’t here-”
“Fae, it isn’t-”
“I can hear them-”
Oh well ex-cuuuuuse me! I guess we're just going to forget about the time you thought making deals with a noncorporeal entity that calls itself The Keeper of Secrets was such a good idea you had to kick down my door in the middle of the night— Sepulveda crows.
-Says the asshole who brought a Dreamspeaker to our doorstep because he fucked up her ability to cross the bloody Gauntlet! How do you even-- Ned retorts
“It is natural to feel the way you’re feeling,” Kalen told the younger man.
“Listen- they- I couldn’t make this up- it’s real.”
“You’ve slipped before,” Kalen reminded him, “seen things that weren’t there. You know this, who is to say what is real and what isn’t save for what your own mind deigns to be real-”
“Kalen, please, I know I hear them.”
“I don’t doubt that,” he told his former student. Kalen’s voice was soft, almost comforting in the awkward way Kalen could be comforting, as though he did not understand the basics of how to interact but tried to emulate them all the same, “but you know that not every voice you’ve heard is the dead. You know that you’ve slipped before. This… I swore at first, when she died, that I saw Melody everywhere, but I know that isn’t true.”
“-It isn’t like that-”
“-and we have talked, and I told you- magic being real and your ability to wield it has no bearing on whether or not you’re connected with this world and what is true and True. You’re in shock, your imagination is filling in the blanks.”
The argument on the other side ends, the conversation between himself and Kalen having taken the time to drown out whatever words would have given the indication that he needed an anchor to reality, something that would give some indication that the world he was currently existing in was the false one and he just needed to find the way out again. In their own ways, the denizens of this world were aware they would cease to be if the wayward dreamer ever woke up.
Something inside of William Holmes had a self-preservation instinct.
“We’re going,” Kalen said, and as an aside or perhaps some olive branch, offered to help William leave. He moved out to the car faster than the other man’s body could probably handle at the time, more desperately than William seemed to realize at the time. They needed to leave; he needed to leave. Things in their infancy are vulnerable, fall apart quickly. Kalen Holliday, or whatever he was, wanted to live.
---
earthbound.
William was blissfully unaware of what was going on at that moment, though his body did seem tense. He blinked, though it was involuntary and slow. Sometimes, you just need to blink.
He really would have liked some cake right now. He always likes cake.