Once More To See You Ch. 4

Being awake was torture. That was hardly an uncommon sentiment for Sybil; on bad days she felt it often. It wasn’t the same since the summoning had failed though. Before she had a concrete goal; now, even if she did still have that goal, failure felt like so much more realistic an outcome. She’d dreamed again last night, and it had been so vivid. Possibly the most vivid her dreams had ever been, perhaps even more world than the waking one she found herself treading through.

In the dream, Sybil had found herself lying in bed, idly reading a book on foreign flora and their magical properties. She’d had trouble focusing on it, for she was there, laying with Sybil, tucked gently into the crook of her arm, Sybil’s chin resting on the top of her head comfortably. The book had been suspended in mid air, kept open by the careful touch of a lingering spell she’d cast sometime before Sybil came into the dream. And the entire time, while lazily regarding the  pages, Sybil’s hands would idly play with her lover’s hair, or trace gentle circles along her belly, or entwine their fingers within hers.

They said little, but there was no need to. Both were just content to be in the presence of the other; many times her lover faded in and out of consciousness, sometimes making a half-baked attempt to converse with Sybil through the drowsiness that ruled her, but usually just lying happily in Sybil’s arms, breathing softly and slowly, occasionally mumbling in her sleep. She had just finished up a chapter on substituting exotic ingredients for local ones in spellcraft, when Sybil grew weary herself.

She’d sighed in contentment, snapped the book closed with a thought, and settled in to embrace her lover. Afterward things grew muddled, but Sybil was certain that just before the dream version of herself fell asleep, Sybil uttered a name, her name, in a slow, quiet exhale of breath. And it was warm and soothing and the prettiest sound Sybil had ever known herself to make. She just wished she could remember what it was.

But she wouldn’t, and she couldn’t, not as she was. Not while trekking through the old paths around her secluded woodland home, sweat slicking off her brow as the hot sun slithered its way through the thick mesh of leaves and cooked the forest floor in choking, humid warmth. Such conditions were not conducive to proper concentration. Neither was needing to make sure her unsolicited companion didn’t get lost or too distracted.

While the eagerness he exuded was at the very least indicative of his potential usefulness, Isaac, for the time being, seemed to have a long ways to go before he became any sort of real asset. He would, at least in theory, be very handy in a fight now that he had been given that new shape, but Sybil had no intention of running into trouble any time soon. And that aforementioned new shape was another thing entirely. Much to Sybil’s distaste, it suited him very well, suited him in such a way that had made Sybil question herself more than a few times; men were of no interest to her, but Isaac no longer looked like any man she’d ever known.

Almost everything about her new companion had changed since he’d placed that pendant around his neck. His features were soft now, smooth, but giving way to powerful muscle; they sloped and curved and swelled in ways which reminded Sybil too much of some strong lady-knight from the stories she would read as a girl. The light chainmail and leather cuirass fixed with crimson metal plates he wore did little to dissuade that image, neither did the confident swagger he’d found in his new form.

But most of all, there was this implacable gentleness to him, a timid excitement that contradicted the spring in his step and revealed the person who existed beyond that pain she’d seen in his eyes when he first appeared in her home. Sybil was not one to generalize about any and all members of a particular group, but she’d never imagined any man could act the way Isaac had been, given the situation. She threw a glance over her shoulder to ensure he was keeping up properly, and he flashed her a friendly grin which kicked up little sparks in her chest. Simply put, he was pretty.

Seeming to take their brief shared glance as indication that conversation could resume, Isaac called ahead to her, “Sybil, can I ask you a few things? Mostly about this world; if I’m going to make a home for myself here, I feel like I should know more about it.”

“I thought it was going to be you who told me of your world?” she called back, surprising herself by the playfulness in her tone. Perhaps it really had been too long since she’d had proper human companionship outside her dreams, but the prospect of talking with him seemed appealing beyond its transactional purpose of strengthening her spell.

“Oh, well, we can start there if you want -- I’m sorry.” He seemed almost to deflate, his tone growing uncertain and almost self-conscious. A part of Sybil wanted to roll her eyes and snap at him. There wasn’t a place for any sort of weakness on their journey; it would start out easy enough, but eventually there would be perils. And yet, that considerateness even at his own expense was the exact sort of thing which had softened Sybil to him in the first place. She felt kindred with him; he had clearly been through a lot, and though their pain had manifested in different ways and shaped them into different people, they were much alike.

“No, that’s quite alright, Isaac. Please, ask away. I’ll do my best to answer.” She waved him closer. “And the trail is wide, there are no threats about; there is no need to walk in any formation or keep our wits about us. Walk beside me, it will make speaking easier.” He did as he was asked, jogging up to meet her in a few quick, long strides. He matched her pace, in silent contemplation for a few moments, before beginning his inquiry.

“So what’s this world like, exactly?” As if to demonstrate his point, Isaac gestured about directionlessly.

“That’s not an easy question to answer effectively. We call the planet we live on Formere, and the country we’re in is called Tyrias, but I would imagine that all means very little to you. I could dive into a very thorough speech on just about everything from history to geography, but something tells me that’s not what you want. It’s hard to say without more of a frame of reference.” Part of Sybil felt a little guilty, she wasn’t trying to be difficult, but that was how things played out.

“Fair enough; well, you have magic, how common is that? And technologically, what does the world look like?”

“Magic isn’t rare; I couldn’t give you an exact answer, but enough that one could reliably find magical assistance in any sizable community. Technologically speaking? That’s still hard, I have no frame of reference for you own.  It might be best you see for yourself. We’ll be stopping by a nearby town today, it’s not far from here.” She gestured down the road in the general direction of Striga, their ultimate destination.

“I suppose you have a fair point. I’ll give it some more thoughts, and see what I can learn just from living here. I suppose then there is one thing I need to ask; just how much danger are we in?” His tone suggested an odd mixture of nerves and excitement. He clearly had little understanding of what he was getting into. Sybil realized she’d need to have a proper talk with him before things got too serious.

“Currently? Almost none; these are my woods, I know them well, the wildlife knows me well. And beyond them is tame wilderness and well-patrolled roads for some time.” Isaac seemed to visibly relax; his fingers, which had been lightly tracing the hilt of his sword their entire trek, grew limp by his side. “But keep in mind, we’re after the easiest reagents first; it won’t be long before we’ll need to test that sword arm of yours.”

“Works for me. In that case, since it seems questions about the world around us are better left for some other time, I’d like to know more about you.” Of all the questions Isaac could have asked her, that was perhaps the one Sybil had been least prepared for. She nearly choked on air at the sound of it, whipping her head sideways and staring.

“You want to know about me? Why?” She felt bad about the mistrust in her tone, but wasn’t about to let up on it.

“Well, because for the foreseeable future we’re going to be spending a lot of time together. And, if I’m being honest, even if we weren’t, I find you interesting. I find your story interesting, it’s romantic. I’m excited to see it through.” Against all odds, Isaac’s words moved Sybil more than she’d expected.

“There isn’t a lot to say; I keep to myself and I like it that way. I spend my days trying to find her. When I’ve found her, I won’t be keeping to myself anymore, and I’ll like that even better.” Like always, Sybil did her best to ignore all the ways it had hurt her to live that way. She knew it would be worth it when she came, she would fix everything.

“Sounds lonely.”

“It won’t be. When it’s all done, everything I went through will be worth it. It was supposed to be worth it already and then --” Sybil cut herself off when she saw the pained look on Isaac’s face.

“I’m sorry, it shouldn’t have been me.” The shift in his demeanor was sudden, and Sybil couldn’t help feel responsible for it.

“It shouldn’t have,” Sybil agreed, but turned to give him a reassuring nod. “But it’s not your fault, so don’t take that tone. By the end of this, hopefully we’ll both have found what we’re looking for.”

“That’s easy for you to say; you know what it is you’re looking for. I feel like I’m not looking for anything, just running from something.” He trailed off, voice growing ever quieter the longer he spoke.

“Well, perhaps it only feels that way. Maybe in running from your old world, you’re running toward something better, something new. That body, for example; you seem to really like it.” Sybil found herself surprisingly invested in keeping him from getting too down on himself, and she certainly did have a vested interest in keeping him effective, but part of Sybil was telling her that she really genuinely did feel responsible for making sure he could be happy.

“I do. It’s strange; it’s given me a lot to think about. Thinking too much about it, though, it makes me feel like too many of my problems followed me through when you brought me here.” Any remnants of the energetic disposition Isaac had held since first getting his new body began to drain as he hunched forward, looking groundward.

“How so?”

“It’s like, imagine you’re cold, so you step into a warm bath, but then all you can think about is how cold the parts of you which aren’t submerged are. I feel like by bringing me here and giving me this new shape I’ve been given a partial remedy, but all it’s doing is reminding me of the parts that still need work. The thing is, I don’t even know what better looks like; I don’t actually know what needs work still. So I dunno, in this metaphor, imagine the bath is invisible too, so I’m fumbling around in the dark looking for it.” Seeming to realize his metaphor was falling apart, Isaac gave a broad shrug.

“So it’s dark outside and the bath is invisible?” She cocked an eyebrow, giggling a little.

“Yeah, I guess that doesn’t make much sense, does it?” He laughed, but Sybil still felt a bit awkward.

“I get your point, sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh.” She forced an awkward, apologetic smile that almost certainly didn’t show in her eyes.

“It’s alright, could use a bit of levity. Did you still have questions about Earth?” The change of subject was more than welcome.

“Yeah, we’ve still got another hour or so of walking before we get where we need to be, so may as well get started with that.” She glanced skyward, trying to discern the position of the sun to tell just how long it had been since they set out, but it was difficult to say the least.

“How much do you want to know?” he asked.

“As much as you can tell me; I’ll have you talking my ear off for days to come, I need to know every little detail you can give me. Remember what I said about a thorough speech on everything from history to geography? Well, that’s what I want for Earth. We never know what piece of information might help me find her.” In reality, there were likely some things that would be more helpful than others, but Sybil did genuinely think that the more thorough she got, the better, and part of her just wanted to keep Isaac talking so he wouldn’t bring up her personal life again.

Isaac nodded, and began to speak. He went into long tangents about seemingly inconsequential things, then would apologize for said long tangents, only to remember that Sybil had literally asked for any and all information, and would dive right back into some other topic. For her own part, Sybil did her best to listen intently and retain as much as she could. Realistically speaking, she knew she’d need Isaac to tell her much of it all over again so she could actually write it down and internalize it, but for the time being she was content to just have something to fill the air and distract from the awkwardness.

They continued their trek until they reached the edge of the forest, at which point Sybil, still listening idly to Isaac’s chatter, began inspecting the surrounding area for the telltale signs she was looking for. Feeling about with her fingers to the earth, she found a patch of unusually soft soil in the midst of a clearing, and unceremoniously plunged her hand into ground, prying free a small, deep purple root. She examined it carefully, turning it over in her hands, before nodding in satisfaction. “Well, that takes care of that then, I have a few other things to look for while we’re here, but do you think you could run an errand for me in town while I do so?” she asked, turning to Isaac, who looked a tad confused.

“Wait, what? That’s it?” He seemed to almost be in disbelief.

“This is the root we came to get, yes. It’s called syrk; it has a great deal of magical properties and is quite easy to find this time of year, if you know where to look for it. Were you expecting something else?” She held the root up to him, eyes flicking across his expression, trying to determine just what the issue was.

“I just thought, well. We didn’t run into any trouble at all. No wild animals, no goblins, no bandits.” He gestured about the clearing, palm upward and half closed as though grasping at nothing.

“I have no idea what a goblin is. But are you upset that we didn’t have to fight anything?” If she didn’t know any better, she’d think Isaac was some kind of sadist.

“I just wasn’t expecting things to be this easy. I mean, you made me all strong and such for a reason right?” He had a point, but he was still clearly out of touch, which, to be fair, made sense. He didn’t know what he was getting into. At the same time, though, Sybil wasn’t thrilled; he reminded her of some village youth who wanted to run off and play soldier.

“Isaac, if you want our lives to be in danger then rest assured, that will happen soon enough.”

“I don’t want my life to be in danger, I just thought that since this is some kind of fantasy world -- Never mind, what’s this about an errand?”