Standing in the empty courtyard, this graceless land where he had closely before brutalised something that was no longer living, a memory, he anguished.
After all, he had just been told that escaping this otherworld of his dreams was an impossible task.
There were so many things that Lark had said, so many things that he had been warned not to do or to avoid. These same things, these things that would madden a normal man, they plunged his thoughts into a cold chaos.
He stumbled against a pile of rubble, eventually settling himself atop one of the jagged rocks as he placed his head in his hands, mumbling to himself.
"First off, the tree… I should never interact with the tree. Never its fruit, but certainly for the fact that even Lark was averse to it… why would a Demon ever think anything so vile or otherworldly…?"
"That water too… she told me never to drink it. Was she talking about the water that heals, that turns wounds to stone? Of course, I should never drink such a thing…"
And above that, she said I should never leave the city. The fog that settles outside of it is dangerous…
Unfortunately for him, even by glancing around, he could catch no sight of this mysterious blanket of fog. He was surrounded by tall ruins on all sides. In the center of the palace, he was devoid of any presence but the city itself. So he couldn't yet ascertain whether this was true.
But she was certainly right that he had to be wary. Of many things.
He would just have to remain cautious.
He stood up from where he had been sitting, glancing up towards where he had left Ruffliette.
He let out a sigh, shaking his head. He had been selfish to leave her. He only hoped she had remained there.
Artemis wouldn't have blamed her had she left him behind, continuing on into the depths of the Palace.
An unsettling thought suddenly crossed his mind.
What if she had run into danger in his absence?
After all, she had mentioned herself that she wasn't that great a fighter.
Should I really care what happens to a stranger…? It's not like she's one of my attendants, I don't have to take charge of her safety…
He started ascending the mountain of rubble leading to the fracture in the building he had come from.
It was a really jarring sight. He had missed it in his unconsciousness, when Ruffliette had dragged him from the courtyard to the ruined building. A sprawling nightmare stretched out across the distant landscape, twisting spires of stone and colossal blankets of buildings and streets painted themselves into a fractured portrait.
They hung in the air like decorations, some of them. Chandeliers of charred brick and glass, buildings which had been suspended by some otherworldly force forever still in the sky.
It was terrifying, a sight that adequately reminded him just where he was. A place that was quite unlike his home. A place that bent the rules of living, of existing.
But why had he come to this place? He certainly wasn't normal, he had contracted himself with a Daemonic Spirit, after all. But did this qualify him to become a traveler to his own nightmares?
Whoever had made this place… she had said it was the only person that was still paying attention to its very existence.
Did that mean that the same person responsible for creating 'Shadowhaunt' was also responsible for his entrance into it?
If that was the case, then he was going to find this person and make them tell him why.
Buried into the eve of stone, there was a lone flower sprouting from its cracked and shattered surface. It had white, pearline petals, and a stem devoid of colour, like it was made of glass. Artemis perched in front of it, marveling at its make before instinctively plucking it from the stone, holding it up towards the sky.
Underneath the stars, it glistened.
It was a waste of its beauty, living in loneliness, when it could die in… her hands…
Artemis suddenly lurched forward with his hand, hitting himself in the face.
F-cking moron…
Why is she stuck in my head…?
He turned back towards the ruined building, his morning coat fluttering behind him as he stepped forward.
She sat still in the center of the ruined building, cast in the brilliance of the night's light, which seeped in from a hole in the roof like water. It was bound to her, drawn to her, like she was its vessel, its destination.
And in silence, she buried herself into the depths of her journal. It was clogged with torn pages, notes and graphs, with thick drawings plastered on each page. He could see it even from afar, the level of detail that she stenciled onto the page.
Was this the purpose she spoke of, of her recording of this city?
He felt like a fool, standing there from afar, holding the white-petaled flower in his hands. Would she take any meaning in it?
Would she catalogue it? Draw it out and note its description, its origin, its finest points?
Why had he even grabbed it? He felt like a fool.
"Maester, you're back." The same soft, honeyed voice called out.
He shook his head, clearing these incessant thoughts out as he smiled, walking towards her.
"Sorry, I had to clear my head. I hope you weren't particularly alarmed. I… brought this back for you. I thought you might like to… record it."
He looked away in an embarrassed manner as he reached out, handing her the flower.
She dutifully accepted it. But to his surprise, she responded quite kindly, as if it weren't a strange gesture at all.
"How did you know these were my favourite?"
What? This is her favourite flower? This random thing that was growing at the wayside?
"I… I feel like I picked it out of habit. Sorry. I don't know your favourite flower, not intentionally."
Ruffliette winked. "Well, now you do."
She turned suddenly to a specific page in her journal, turning it towards Artemis.
"I've written about it here. Actually, I have several pages for it, but this is the most general information I have on it…"
His eyes scanned the various lines that had been imprinted onto the page in thick charcoal, marveling at its detail.
[White-tipped Glass Pea]
[General Description]
The White-tipped Glass Pea seems to be a plant that very much enjoys solitude. I've only observed specimens that grow at least ten feet away from each other. I wonder if this is just the nature of the weather that carried the seeds that far, or if there is some underlying factor that causes this? What could possibly prevent it from straying away from each other?
The taste is generally pleasant, and consuming an entire flower didn't kill me. It was an even better experience considering that. But I doubt it has any nutritional value. Even after consuming twelve, I still felt very hungry.
He let out a suppressed laugh as he continued reading.
Without glancing up from the notebook, Artemis spoke in a docile tone of voice.
"I thought you would have left."
"You did run off quite suddenly." She chuckled. 'But no, I thought I would wait for you in this building. Besides, we can't go ahead yet."
It felt quite odd to him, to trust a woman so fully, a stranger to her core.
Still… there was something about her.
It wasn't the fact that she was a woman, and he had been a man alone for two years. His solitude didn't seem to have any factor in it.
She was… unusually nostalgic.
She continued. "We should wait here for a time. Camp, rest."
"Why? Isn't it dangerous here?"
Ruffliette shook her head. "Dangerous, I'm sure. But I took a peek ahead while you were gone. The road is bathed in light, brilliance. I've seen the things that enter that light. Once only, because I never see them leave it again. But it moves, and often. If we wait, it might pass us by."
Artemis grimaced.
That brilliant light… that's one of the warnings that Lark gave me…
"Did you look at it?"
She raised an eyebrow at him curiously.
"Look at it? Why wouldn't I? How else would I have seen it?
She was able to look at it, but Lark warned me not to? What is the difference, why isn't she visibly affected? Is it something she can't sense, or is she acting strangely and I just can't tell because I don't know her? Why did that bastard only give me hints, and not any tangible information?
Hey, Lark, why don't you speak to me? How bored do you have to be to do so? Wouldn't it be more interesting to guide me through here…?
However, his pleading yielded no results, Lark refused to answer.
So he turned to Ruffliette, grimacing. "What if that light doesn't pass us by? What if it comes our way, washes over us?"
A faint smile placated her expression. "Then we will find out why those things that enter never leave."