Ringlorn

Ch. 1

The first things he sees when he blinks into existence are, in this order: trees, tall and looming, with bark a crisp brown and leaves an emerald green. Grass, spiky against his bare back and arms and legs, poking out from between his fingers when he moves to sit up. A small creature, soft and white with floppy pink ears and a dark nose that wiggles when he locks eyes with it. And a woman, hair the color of moss and skin all the colors of the universe, petting the creature with a thin, elegant hand.

As though sensing his arrival, she looks up. She blinks wide, red eyes at him. Her mouth never moves, but still he hears a voice, as clear as the sky above them, say, Hello, brother.

He falters. And then, with no lack of surprise, he finds himself answering in kind. Who are you?

You already know. She smiles at him, sharply albeit not unkindly, and scoops the little creature up into an arm as she stands. She nods with her head and says, Isn't it beautiful?

Gradually, he stands. He's unsure what she's talking so animatedly about as she walks, stroking the creature with her hand and pointing at various brightly colored... things. He watches, quiet, and she offers names to the silence between them.

This is a flower, she says. And this is a leaf. And that—she points into the distance—is a tree.

He turns his head, and it's then that he notices-- everything else. Or, rather, the lack thereof. In one direction there are the trees she spoke of, stretching as far as he can see, coupled with bushes adorned with deep red flowers.

In every other direction there is a thick, hazy grey mist, so heavy he can't see into it. And yet— he can. He looks into it, and he sees... nothing. Everything. Anything. A million million scenarios pass before his eyes; a forest with the same trees and flower bushes he had seen earlier, a flat field with white flakes crying from the heavens, a grassy plain with tall, pointed creatures galloping through it.

I haven't made that yet, she says from where she now stands at his side. Awe drips from her words. But I want to. There are so many things that could become. Isn't it amazing?

He continues to stare. Endless possibilities stare back at him. You made all of this?

Yes. This is Earth, brother-- or, it will be, once we're done.

He rips his gaze away from the mist to look at her, something odd fluttering in his stomach. When he looks into her eyes, he sees a reflection of himself, equally red-eyed but with stark black hair where hers is green. We?

She crouches down and releases the creature. It hops away into the mist, and try as he might to see, it fades from sight. When she stands, she's smiling again. Take my hand.

He understands her plan, and that he should feel more apprehensive about it. But as it stands there is only curiosity. He laces his fingers through hers and lets her lead him into the mist.

Her hand slips from his. He looks, frantically, to where he had seen her at his side, but all he finds is the same blanket of fog that smothers everything around him.

Sister?

Silence. His cry falls into the void.

He tries again. Louder, this time. More frantic. Sister!

No one comes. He is alone.

Focus. Focus. She had said that they can create. That he can create. He squeezes his eyes shut and lets the mist wash over him.