Dizgaia ~ The Dreamfinder's Daughter

Chapter 9 ~ A Dreamfinder's Daughter

The campus was quiet and not as busy as when Mia last left it. Most folks had gone home for the evening. Thankfully, it seemed the Imagination Institute never truly closed, and she was able to gain access. Through the front doors was a grand marble staircase. Mia took it, remembering the Dreamfinder's office was on the second floor. Halfway up, she stumbled and doubled over, wincing in pain.

"Miandra, what's wrong?" asked Figment, worried. "Are you okay?"

"It's my ribs," she said. "I guess that beating I took did more damage than I thought. I should've taken the escalator."

"Oh no! What'll we do?"

"I think I just need to sit down a sec. Here, take this," she said, passing Figment the takeout bag.

Gripping the railing with a trembling arm, Mia lowered herself to the stairs. She wrapped her arms around herself and bent forward, drawing sharp intakes of breath against the searing pain. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

"Go on ahead, Figment. I'll... I'll catch up in a bit."

"Oh no! Hold on, Miandra! I'll find Dreamfinder! He can help!" Figment flew off in a rush, the takeout bag clenched tightly in his hands.

Blair stood in his office, staring at a full-length mirror that hung in a hideaway cabinet behind a panel on the wall. "Miandra!" he said sternly. "What were you thinking running away like that? I'm so very disapo... disa... I'm so mad... I told you it was dangerous to... I'm very cross with..."

He sighed, slumping his shoulders. He shook his head. He wasn't mad. He wasn't disappointed. He was just worried. And he felt horribly awkward. Here stood a man who'd gone from having an infant daughter, to having no daughter, to having a teenage-nearly-adult daughter in a matter of a few short years. As her father, he felt he should reprimand her for running off, but all he wanted to do was take her into his arms.

"You're awful at this, Blair. What kind of father are you?"

He shook his head, looking at his reflection in the mirror again, trying his best to look stern. He tilted his top hat forward and tried to hold himself in a more imposing fashion.

"Miandra! I am your father, and you will do as I... you'll do... as I..." He slumped forward, taking off his hat and burying his face inside it. "Blarion Mercurial, you are the saddest excuse for a father..." He pushed the mirror back into the wall and gazed out the large window at the north end of his office. "Where are they?"

As if on command, the door to his office burst open and in flew Figment, looking unusually perturbed. "Dreamfinder, Dreamfinder! Come quick! Miandra's hurt!"

"Miandra? Oh no! What trouble have you gotten yourselves into?"

In a panic, Blair followed Figment into the hallway, carrying a red med kit containing a compressed Baymax unit. They came upon Mia, curled up in pain on the grand staircase. Blair ran to her side.

"Miandra! Miandra, dear, what has happened to you?"

So much for the stern lecture. The Dreamfinder quickly discovered that when it came to his long-lost daughter, he was nothing more than her humble servant, wanting to do anything to see her smile. Was he even capable of reprimanding her? In this moment, it certainly didn't seem like it.

"I'm fine," she lied, managing a weak smile. "Figment probably exaggerated. If he told you two thuggish bimbos beat me up, don't believe a thing he says."

It was admirable that she could make jokes at a time like this. However, the dried blood on her lip and the bruise on her cheek was enough to show exactly how much of a joke her statement really was.