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“I need no one,” she snarls.
I sigh and rub my forehead with my free hand. “You’re such a dehydrated bitch.”
“Such language,” she scolds, almost mocking Isolde.
“Yeah, well…” I try to shrug, though only my right shoulder moves. “Welcome to my time. We’re a little more crass.”
“You cannot leave,” she tells me, and despite not being able to see her, I hear the smile in her voice. “Sink quietly into my abyss. It’s where you belong.”
“I would agree,” I drawl, grinning to myself. “But I don’t do anything quietly. And we both know I’ll leave, just like I did when you last visited me.”
The pitch black void above me claps with thunder, lightning striking closely behind. In the illumination, I see the fullness of pregnant clouds, though I doubt they hold water.
This is an illusion.
Sfear deals in death and trickery. She can’t kill me, and her tricks come with a loophole. I’m not sure if she’s aware of that, or if she prefers to ignore it… But it’s there. I just have to find it.
“Send me home,” I shout into the abyss. “You cannot contain me.”
“I have learned from my failures,” she mentions, though it doesn’t sound like she’s replying to me. It’s more like she’s switching the topic. “Have you?”
“Fine,” I grumble. “Let’s do this the difficult way.”
I begin searching for any water surrounding me. There has to be some sort of moisture here in the sludge or in the air. As I call my element to me, I’m relieved to see the liquid respond, even if I can’t visually keep track of it in the dark.
Finally, the gelatinous substance hardens around like black glass. The more water I draw from it and the atmosphere, the stronger I feel within this dreamscape. I’m able to break away from the sticky hold and climb atop the craggy mountain I’ve partially created.
Only partially, though.
Sfear did the rest.
As I walk across the jagged surface, a shadowy figure moves toward me, mimicking my visit from Spiran… Except Sfear is the absence of light.
“You won’t win,” Sfear comments with a sigh.
“I never said I would defeat you,” I point out. “But I can keep you busy.”
She gives me a rasping chuckle. “You’ve become arrogant.”
“Maybe,” I concede. “Or maybe you’ve grown careless in your old age.”
“A true goddess has no age,” she informs me.
And that leaves me wondering…
“Humor me,” I suggest, weighing my words. “Did you kill the others because they were more powerful than you? Or did you do it out of malice? You remind me of the boogeyman, hiding under my bed, lying in wait for me to dangle my foot off the edge.”
“I killed them because they stood in my way,” she patiently explains. “My sister thought them more important than my plans.”
“What plans?” I ask, still pulling water from the far reaches of my dreamscape. “The best way to gain an ally is to be truthful.”
Sfear tsks. “Your petty Earth thoughts will not sway me.”
“Tell me…” I trail off, trying to figure out how to push her. “Are you covering yourself because you’re really a hag? That’s what all the books say about you.”
“You insult me in my domain?” She laughs, like a full-on belly laugh.
I can’t see the water I’ve drawn from my surroundings, but I feel it floating all around me, patiently waiting to be of use. I just don’t know if I need it.
