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estdeus_innobis2011-02-14 02:48 pm
goddessnanshe.livejournal.com) wrote in estdeus_innobis2011-02-14 02:48 pm
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in the gloaming
The thin hours before dawn, Tuesday 23 March
Excolo has been still these past weeks. Around the feast of Lupercalia there was a small ripple of unsettled dreams, dreams of desire and frustration and longing, but they passed. Some magic there, of a tainted sort, but a small kind, passing out of mind. But for all the quiet I think that something new has come to be. That Wanda has had her child I now know, infant glimpsed in dreams. The child herself has started dreaming. I have gazed into them, but not crossed the threshold. I do not yet know how much of her mind her father watches. Like most infants, her dreams are all noise and colour, no narrative - but there are things I glimpse in the dreams that no infant should know. Things of shadow and of light.
I create another crossroads, but this one is a room with staircases that will serve as paths. A rug lies in the centre of a tea room, and on the rug stands a table crowned with flowers. There are smaller tables nearby laid with napkins and silver, and I seat myself at one of them, pouring tea into a china cup. It is amber and smells of faraway. Perhaps someone will come and drink with me.
[open]
Excolo has been still these past weeks. Around the feast of Lupercalia there was a small ripple of unsettled dreams, dreams of desire and frustration and longing, but they passed. Some magic there, of a tainted sort, but a small kind, passing out of mind. But for all the quiet I think that something new has come to be. That Wanda has had her child I now know, infant glimpsed in dreams. The child herself has started dreaming. I have gazed into them, but not crossed the threshold. I do not yet know how much of her mind her father watches. Like most infants, her dreams are all noise and colour, no narrative - but there are things I glimpse in the dreams that no infant should know. Things of shadow and of light.
I create another crossroads, but this one is a room with staircases that will serve as paths. A rug lies in the centre of a tea room, and on the rug stands a table crowned with flowers. There are smaller tables nearby laid with napkins and silver, and I seat myself at one of them, pouring tea into a china cup. It is amber and smells of faraway. Perhaps someone will come and drink with me.
[open]
no subject
"Waterkey talked about scryin' like that," I say. "Not exactly the same, I mean. But the misreadin' and fogging up after." I stop fer a second ta think. "Er. Ma'am, d'you mean ta say..." an' I stop, 'cause I think she says pretty much 'xactly what she means ta say, here. "D'you know who did that ta Derek Granger? Mean, I understand if you decide you can't tell me, but even knowing someone knows'd help."
"How is it you are dreaming, Mr Hollow?" she says after a moment. "I didn't know that golem could."
"I'm afraid I ain't sure, ma'am. I did it once before, but I was kinda extinguished, then. Always meant ta try." Things just keep needing doing, and I don't need to sleep, wasn't even sure I ever could. Never thought ta ask Waterkey. "I just sat down a minute in the Abbey, and then-- I guess someone opened the door for me, but that mighta bin part of the dream too."
no subject
"I don't know for certain," I say, after thinking for a little while. "The person I am thinking of did not dream of it... And poor Derek dreamed only of his pain and of freedom," I say. "Never of who it was who took him." My lips have thinned. His dreams were terrible. And then he did not dream, and I could not help him." I shake my head helplessly. "More than one doctor," I say, "attended Derek at the abbey." Maybe that will be enough to start Jack on his search.
"I just sat down a minute in the Abbey, and then-- I guess someone opened the door for me, but that mighta bin part of the dream too."
"That was your own mind, letting you in," I say. "I am glad you came."
no subject
"I am so sorry, ma'am," I say softly. It is not enough, an' I remember how I felt when I understood what'd happened, what'd been done to him.
"More than one doctor attended Derek at the abbey," she says, and I nod slow, tryna think. Know Constantine was there. Don't know who else, though, and'm thinking (do we have two doctors?) I oughtta look inta it.
Tell her how I got here, and she explains "That was your own mind, letting you in. I am glad you came."
"So'm I, ma'am," I say quietly. "I'll do what I can, and'm sorry there isn't more I c'n do."
no subject
"What you do is good, deputy," I say seriously. "None of us can ever do enough. But doing something is no small thing." I offer him my hand. "Shake my hand and wake, Mr Hollow," I say. "And try to remember what I have said when you do."
no subject
"I will, ma'am," I say. "An' hope it'll be a good something that gets done."
An' take her hand and the table and the room're thinning like fog, 'til they're just the air in the room, and the chair's hard and wide. One'a the benches in the Abbey, an' the whole place fer the moment is still, peaceful'n'steady in the night.
Look up at the altar, an' just sit fer a minute, turnin' what happened over in my head.