I see more dead people
Continuing...
Cirullan looked Lillenith reticently. "Well, I dunno. My mother told me never to talk to dead people. Before she died, that is."
Lillenith gave a sigh of exasperation, and it seemed to come from everywhere in the air at once. "Is your mother here? Come on. She's dead. So am I. So why not listen to me instead of her."
Cirullan gave a shrug and tentatively reached out to clasp her waiting hand.
The world dissolved. It shimmered and faded a bit first, and then suddenly the cave and everything else shattered. Cirullan was left in blackness, an intense nothingness that he could feel all around him.
And then he came down to earth with a crash.
They were in a graveyard, a placid rolling green dotted by marble and granite headstones dotting it. It was night out, and the full moon cast an eery glow on the tombs. It reminded Cirullan vaguely of Harry Potter, which had even made inroads into the "fantasy worlds" market. He almost expected Lord Voldemort to leap out at him from behind a gravestones.
"Come on," Lillenith exclaimed, dragging the last syllable out in a long exasperated whine. "You can ogle the other folks later."
"I wasn't..." Cirullan began, but cut himself off when he noticed that Lillenith wasn't even close to listening. Instead, she had drifted off up a hill, clearly intent on whatever she was doing. Cirullan turned to follow, not wanting to get lost in the graveyard.
She stopped in front of a small headstone, a stone so inconspicuous that it would have been easy to miss that there was a grave here at all. At first, Cirullan thought it was her own headstone, and was about to say something comforting. But then he noticed the lettering chiselled into the headstone. "ZOE", it said. Only Zoe. Unless she was lying about her name, it wasn't her.
But as Cirullan looked over at her, he saw that there were tears running down her cheeks. Clearly, whoever lay in this grave meant something to her. Family, perhaps?
"Who's Zoe?" he asked, not unkindly.
"It's not important. You'd just think I'm silly," she sniffled.
"I won't," he said.
"You will. I know you will!" She turned around suddenly and ran/floated down the hill.
Cirullan took off after her. "Wait! Don't go! How will I get home?"
"Figure it out! I shouldn't've brought you here!" She was faster than him, probably owing to the lack of annoying physical impediments like legs. Soon she'd be gone from earshot entirely.
"But what'll happen to me?"
"Worst case, you'll die," she cried over her shoulder. "Then we'll be equal."
Cirullan cried out again, but she didn't hear. He was alone in the graveyard.
Cirullan looked Lillenith reticently. "Well, I dunno. My mother told me never to talk to dead people. Before she died, that is."
Lillenith gave a sigh of exasperation, and it seemed to come from everywhere in the air at once. "Is your mother here? Come on. She's dead. So am I. So why not listen to me instead of her."
Cirullan gave a shrug and tentatively reached out to clasp her waiting hand.
The world dissolved. It shimmered and faded a bit first, and then suddenly the cave and everything else shattered. Cirullan was left in blackness, an intense nothingness that he could feel all around him.
And then he came down to earth with a crash.
They were in a graveyard, a placid rolling green dotted by marble and granite headstones dotting it. It was night out, and the full moon cast an eery glow on the tombs. It reminded Cirullan vaguely of Harry Potter, which had even made inroads into the "fantasy worlds" market. He almost expected Lord Voldemort to leap out at him from behind a gravestones.
"Come on," Lillenith exclaimed, dragging the last syllable out in a long exasperated whine. "You can ogle the other folks later."
"I wasn't..." Cirullan began, but cut himself off when he noticed that Lillenith wasn't even close to listening. Instead, she had drifted off up a hill, clearly intent on whatever she was doing. Cirullan turned to follow, not wanting to get lost in the graveyard.
She stopped in front of a small headstone, a stone so inconspicuous that it would have been easy to miss that there was a grave here at all. At first, Cirullan thought it was her own headstone, and was about to say something comforting. But then he noticed the lettering chiselled into the headstone. "ZOE", it said. Only Zoe. Unless she was lying about her name, it wasn't her.
But as Cirullan looked over at her, he saw that there were tears running down her cheeks. Clearly, whoever lay in this grave meant something to her. Family, perhaps?
"Who's Zoe?" he asked, not unkindly.
"It's not important. You'd just think I'm silly," she sniffled.
"I won't," he said.
"You will. I know you will!" She turned around suddenly and ran/floated down the hill.
Cirullan took off after her. "Wait! Don't go! How will I get home?"
"Figure it out! I shouldn't've brought you here!" She was faster than him, probably owing to the lack of annoying physical impediments like legs. Soon she'd be gone from earshot entirely.
"But what'll happen to me?"
"Worst case, you'll die," she cried over her shoulder. "Then we'll be equal."
Cirullan cried out again, but she didn't hear. He was alone in the graveyard.