Uncharted Territory

He Who Walks in Shadow

Eleanor spoke quietly, "Stop here. Something's not quite right."

Sean wrinkled his brow in concern and he hesitated. He trusted his wife without question but she was stretched thin enough that her judgment may be impaired. Still, he knew better than to write off her concerns. Instead he voiced his opinion with only the vaguest hint of nervousness apparent in his tone, "Elle, I think we should maybe keep moving..." he paused, "While we still can."

Eleanor replied with a gaze full of intense determination, and she spoke through unsteady tired breaths, "Our daughter will not be born on this side. Of that I am certain. The path still lies ahead of us."

She looked away and focused her determination outward, speaking almost under her breath, "We just have to find it... again."

Without another wasted moment, Eleanor reached into a small sack and pulled out a handful of dirt. She began to dance with seemingly random motions, but as the dust fell through her fingers it painted a clear pattern on the ground though Sean couldn't tell what the pattern exactly meant.

While she performed the ritual, Sean took up the task of keeping watch, but he caught himself somewhat mesmerized by Eleanor's movements. The movements themselves were strong and powerful, more born of precision than fluidity, but even with the enlarged belly the body that danced them was graceful and he couldn't help but stare at her beautiful form. The aches and pains from his not quite recovered body protested against the illicit thoughts in his head but he grinned and said aloud, "I'm not dead yet."

Even after all this time, Sean was still impressed with the woman before him. He had been attracted to Eleanor since he met her -so much so that sometimes it felt like the feeling had been there since before he met her-, but it was more than her physical appearance that kept him coming back. It was her bold determination, her strength of will that had drawn him in again and again and again. It was magnetic, addictive even. Love was the best drug.

Towards the end of the ritual, Eleanor pulled the survival knife off of her calf and sliced through the scar across her left palm letting her blood spill in the middle of the circle. Re-opening the old wound was a way, as she had once explained, to tap into the essence of time itself. Under normal circumstances, Sean wasn't bothered by it -his wife was one tough woman after all. However, with her current condition, they both recognized she was already overextended. Though that was often the story of their lives, the stakes certainly felt a little higher this time.

All together, it took Eleanor about five minutes to complete the ritual but when she finished, she smiled a tired smile at Sean, and he closed the gap just in time to catch her as she grimaced in pain and started to fall. Thankfully, her contractions hadn't yet hadn't been too close together and her water not yet broken, but it was hard to tell when that luck would run out, and with the extra exertion she had been spending, Sean wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that the hourglass had been shaken.

After a moment's time the pain left Eleanor's face and she nearly drifted off to sleep as he held her. She looked up at him and spoke slowly, "Ok... Now we... can move." Her eyes fluttered shut, "In a moment..."

"What happened Elle?" Sean asked as he pulled a strip of cloth out of her bag and began to bandage her palm.

The familiar smell of cigarettes, sandalwood, and steel (which had been following them since they stepped through the mirror) thickened in Sean's nostrils as a voice spoke from behind them, "We're stuck in a bloody loop trap. And before your lady allowed herself a kip she figured she needed to settle up the debt."

Sean looked towards the voice with the familiar sounding cadence. When he saw the man standing there, he immediately did a double take. Eleanor had explained her unique relationship with the Samurai to Sean before, but seeing it was another thing altogether.