Ronan's Cot, Emergency Clinic, Town Hall, Thursday Evening
The forest was close around him as he ran through, heedless of the scratching brambles and branches that seemed to be almost consciously attempting to impede his course. Dark shadows flitted along between the trees, keeping perfect pace with him, neither pulling ahead or falling behind, and he couldn’t help but feel as if he were being herded, driven towards some destination against his will.
“Ronan?” The voice cut through the shadows. “Ronan, are you there? I need your help!”
He came up short, his breath coming in short gasps though he tried to calm it; still, the run had left him winded, and he had to focus through the sound of his heavy breathing as he listened again for the voice that had called his name. Even worse was the sound of the shadows around him, circling now, though not closing in: they seemed to chitter, a disturbing laughter that sent dark chills coursing up and down his spine. “Hello?” he cried, uncaring who or what else might hear him. “Who’s there?”
The voice was deeper this time, masculine. “Ronan? Is that you? I found the temple?”
His eyes darted left and right, and shining words came unbidden to his mouth; as he spoke them, they called for radiant light that cut a swath through the shadows. Seeing his chance, he dashed through, beginning again the breakneck pace as he tried to find the source of the voices. Both had seemed familiar, and although he could summon neither name nor face for either voice, still he felt that he should be able to do so, that the voices were more than merely familiar, that they belonged to people whom he knew.
All at once, seeming to happen between one step and the next, the shadowed woods melted away in front of him, and he felt himself stumble even as he was blinded by sudden sunlight. The trees had been so closely grown overhead that underneath it had seemed as night, but here was the bright sunlight of high noon.
Looking around, he spotted a young woman running towards him, blond hair shining in the sunlight; though the dark roots spoke otherwise, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the blond was nonetheless natural.
“Ronan,” she said. “C’mon, the entrance is just over this way. We can get in, we can get you home!”
Home. Ronan knew the word should mean something to him. “Home...?” He followed the girl, even as she morphed into a dark-haired boy. “Who are you? Where are we going?”
The boy turned dark eyes to Ronan. “Into the temple,” he said. “We’re going to get you home.” He smiled sadly. “Even if I’d rather you stayed, we both know you need to go.” Between one step and the next, they went from sunlit field to darkened room, torchlight sending dancing shadows up against the walls. “They’re coming for us,” the boy said. “You’ve got to go.”
Ronan fell back against the wall, eyes darting around as sudden anxiety gripped him. “I can’t leave you,” he said. “Michaela, I can’t leave you, they’ll get you.”