dimensions | original

Crow and Wolf

 "How far now?" Mark asked anxiously. Asha had finally made the jump through dimensions, but now he wasn't sure where their destination truly was.

"I'm not sure." answered Asha curtly. Apparently, Asha didn't know either.

The two were on board the Portacar motorcycle with Luma in the small sidecar. They had left just a half hour earlier. The rising sun colored the clouded sky with streaks of red that reminded Mark uncomfortably of blood.

Mark's heart raced as he examined the landscape around them. Trees with dark, nearly black bark grew, low and scraggly to the ground. Small geysers and volcanoes dotted the rough landscape, and the only animals he saw were crows, making him wonder if an old friend was among them. A great, spiked range of mountains loomed in front of them, and then Mark realized-

Those weren't mountains. That was a castle.

The surface was rough and ragged, as those someone had been throwing rocks at the palace in frustration. (Knowing the twins, it probably had happened.) What Mark had thought to be the entrance to a cave was actually a great, looming doorway, with rough slashes cut into the soft dark stone.

Asha suddenly gasped as she saw what Mark did. "It's hideous." she whispered.

Mark nodded, his nose wrinkling as they got closer. He had hoped he would never smell it again, but it was there. The smell of a million souls and deaths and lost dreams all whisked together in a sort of horrible perfume. As they got closer, it felt as if he couldn't breath.

"Let down." Mark mumbled into Asha's ear.

She immediately began to lower the Portacar motorcycle, making sure that the motorcycle and sidecar were parallel to the ground.

Mark gently slipped over the side of the motorcycle, his shoes hitting the ground lightly. The brown earth underfoot was hard and rough. Mark hesitantly took a step into a lighter patch of soil only to gasp in astonishment. It was gooey and oddly soft. He quickly pulled his foot out, realizing that he was starting to sink.

"Don't step in the pale spots." he warned Asha. Asha nodded, her face turning almost as pale as the spots themselves. Mark felt a flash of guilt. Asha was completely mortal. One hit, one strike form either of the twins would do her off. She had nothing to defend herself with. Just a lot of courage and a load of bravery.

"Luma's awake." Her voice was cold and clear, her words carefully chosen as if she was trying to shelter herself. Luma herself got out of the sidecar with a baffled and slightly terrified look on her face.

"Where are we now?" asked Luma hesitantly.

"We are at the lair of of the people who are going to help you." Mark looked up, her eyes meeting Asha's darker ones. "I'm taking you in. Asha is going to wait here by our stuff." An odd mixture of gratitude and anger shone in her eyes at Mark's words.

He had both helped her and trapped her. Both of them didn't want to disturb or worry Luma, so he knew that Asha would be more hesitant to argue or even talk. But now Asha had to stay. She was safer now, and they both knew it.

Luma was oblivious as always. She glanced around the barren, depressing landscape with a strange look on her face.

"I've been here." she whispered. "I remember now."

Asha was already looking for the potion vials to try and help Luma. Mark just sighed sadly. "Not you."

"Not me." she agreed quietly. "Him."

It struck Mark how very odd and unexpected this situation happened to be- he was helping a mortal who was possessed by a gifted and deceased prophet by taking her to a place where his old and cruel master had visited regularly due to the fact that it was where Spirit and Sacrifice lived. That was sure something to think about.

"Alright. Let's go." Mark's voice sounded too loud in the awkward silence that only the distant crows dared to interrupt.

Luma had already drank the potion that Asha had given to her, and she seemed much more healthy than she had been just the day before in the Portacar, on the way to Keme. But while she walked and moved with an elegant normalcy, mentally, she didn't seem quite there.

The mountain castle didn't seem to be getting any closer after a few minutes of walking, but when they looked behind them they saw their fallen vehicle and Asha's distant silhouette far behind.

"And you would be?" Luma nearly jumped in surprise at the random and disembodied voice. Mark did.

They both spun around to see one of the numerous crows perched on another of the scraggly, low-lying trees.

"Crap." mumbled Mark. "Hello Dia."

The crow cawed in appreciation. "Nice to see you recognize me, wolf."

Mark didn't seem fazed. Instead, he looked tired. "Same with you, crow."

"Who's this?" The crow pointed a wrinkled foot at Luma was staring at the crow with a rather perplexed look on her face.

"This is the mortal Lumara Wish. Long story short, she was in a shard storm."

Dia seemed fairly saddened by this, although it was hard to tell if the feathered creature was being sarcastic. "Poor little baby. Who do you think it could be?" she asked.

"Not think, know. The prophet Phoenix. He told my prophecy, you might remember?"

"Yes, I do remember. Good ol' days." The crow sighed. "Before they both went totally loony and weren't so obsessed with, well, sacrifices and death."

"To the point, Dia, can you take me to them?"

She gave Mark a critical look. "I'm giving you a chance to escape, boy. Are you going to take it or not?"

Mark sighed in response. "That's not an option, and you know it."

"Oh, Match. There's always choices enough."

"No, Dia, there isn't now." Mark felt weighed down by sorrow.

"Then I will give them to you." Dia answered, shifting so her black feathers shined with the reds of the the colored sky. "I have helped you before. Do you accept, my little hunter?"

"Dia..."

"Come now, Match, make up your mind."

Mark locked eyes with the beady-eyed bird. "Fine. I accept."

Dia shivered, her wings fluttering. "Then I will tell you what I know." She paused for a second, then continued speaking in a serious voice. "One: The easiest thing to do is to drawn blood and kill her now. It would take care of this entire, fruitless mission. Two: I could take you to the twins and ask for help, and I foretell you die. Three, and final: You could go forth and offer them all that you are willing to give, and more."

Mark looked at her. "I pick two. And I will not die."

A/N: So much for updating in a week. But I got time, so I write. (also I might do some basic edits, so that's all the random notifications, sorry.)