Things Lost and Found (a Waglington and Mianite fanfiction)

Chapter 27

Yes! I finally got to write this chapter! I have been waiting for chapters to use this song. ^.^ "Yet" by Switchfoot is just perfect for this. I highly recommend listening before reading further.

Also, go give some love to TheLibrarianGang and Its_Lee_ . They've both been having a rough week and could use some encouragement. Don't worry, this chapter will still be here when you come back to it. :)

The majority of this chapter is based around the book Jordan got from Martha in his S 2 Ep. 107. There are many, many feelz ahead. You have been warned... 

*Waglington's POV*

The world around me was grey and featureless. It reminded me of the spectre dimension, but it was foggy and a little less bright. Something about this place felt vaguely familiar and comforting. How I had gotten here I had no idea, but I decided to walk around while I was here. After taking a few steps, I realized something; I was a wizard, not a cat. I looked down at myself in disbelief. This cannot be real, but then... where am I? I asked myself as I marveled at my hand, turning it over. I had almost forgotten what it felt like to have hands. Am I dead? If so, I thought death would be a lot more... interesting. Maybe this is what happened if a mind came un-tethered from its body. Would that technically make me a ghost? Would I wander here forever?

I kept walking, enjoying the feeling of balancing on two feet again. Time did not seem to exist in this place of eternal fog and twilight. I wandered for what felt like forever, but at the same time it felt like I had only taken a few steps when I heard them. Distant voices echoed through this place. I could not make out what they said, but as I walked, I began to recognize a few of them. If I wasn't mistaken, I could just make out the voice of The Realm's Dianite. He almost sounded... happy, but without malice in his words. Weird. The stranger thing was that he was talking to someone who sounded suspiciously like Donella, and she actually laughed at one point. I stopped to listen to the foreign sound. As I looked around, I noticed that the fog in the direction of their voices had a distinct red tint to it.

I was tempted to go investigate, but I heard another voice I recognized coming from further ahead of me. Martha. My heart leaped at the chance to see her one last time. I broke into a run as I followed the sweet lilt of her voice. It seemed to be growing fainter, though I was running as fast as I could. No, no, no! I have to talk to her! I actually wished for a moment that I was a cat again; I could run far faster as one. I suddenly tripped and landed on all fours. I looked down and saw paws instead of hands. "What?!" I stared at the furry appendages in shock. I tentatively thought about being a wizard once more and changed back. "Okay, that works." I shrugged and shifted back to being a cat, bolting after Martha's fading voice.

I could picture her already: Her eyes the vibrant color of irises were set in her alabaster face like crown jewels. Her peach lips curled into the amused grin I imagined she would have when she heard I'd turned myself into a cat—one of my least favorite animals. (Blame Wag, not me. I love cats. :3) A few delicate laugh lines danced around her mouth and eyes. Her light lavender hair cascaded in waves down her back in sharp contrast to her black wool cloak. Her cloak was clasped at the nape of her neck by a gold broach holding a single large amethyst; its soft purple complemented her eyes nicely. Her choice of purple slate riding jacket and pants always amused me. I'd never seen her ride a horse, but she kept insisting she would have to take me riding one day. Her grey riding boots and black gloves completed her favorite outfit.

Martha's voice started rising in volume again when I heard another join hers. The Australian accent gave him away; Steve was in this place too. I did not stumble in my pace, though my heart sank, hearing him with Martha. They had been sweethearts for over a decade before Martha ended things; they had even been engaged a few months ago. I ran into the increasingly purple fog (apparently I was not colorblind as a cat in this place) until I could just make them out. The space they inhabited had sprouted a forest, and the two sat on a fallen log amidst the trees. Martha was just as I remembered her, and Steve wore his customary straw hat, plaid shirt, well-worn jeans, and tan work boots. Suddenly, it clicked. This was the meeting place wizards back in the Realm used to communicate long distance. How did I get here? I don't have my powers, and she obviously didn't call me.