Worlds Splitting

What do you mean 'not of your world'?

The sun beat down on Dorian. Its rays seemed too intense for the pleasant spring that had been drifting across the continent. The strange heat, however, was still no explanation to what he was doing in some random forest.

He had woken up probably an hour ago and had been walking in the same direction for the duration of that hour, and still everything looked the same. No rivers, not even a rock was out of place. He was beginning to suspect more and more that he wasn't in Ardalan, possibly not on the continent anymore. It wouldn't surprise him. Nothing really surprised him anymore.

As he wondered through the forest, his mind drifted to Chaol. Had he, too, been transported to some unknown place? Was he lost in this gods damned forest too? Or was all this simply a joke and nothing magical after all. Had Manon managed to carry him to some random island on Abraxos because she was bored? Maybe she was watching from overhead. He doubted it, somehow. He hadn't seen Manon since the end of the war. Still, it he wouldn't put getting him lost in a random forest as something Manon wouldn't be up for doing. 

Just as he was beginning to wonder if he had been going in circles despite heading in the same direction for his whole journey he heard the sound of running water. Finally. The heat was sapping his strength and parching his throat dry. 

He followed the sound of the water until he found the river snaking through the forest. He didn't try to use his hands in an attempt to cup the crystal water. Instead, he lowered his lips to the surface and drank. 

It was several minutes before Dorian realised he was being watched. Raising his head, water dripping from his lips, he found coal-black eyes boring into his. He started to his feet, reaching for where damaris should be by his waist. After grasping thin air, he realised he was still wearing his night clothes. 

The creature in the river did not shrink at his sudden movements. It just watched him. The skin around its valg-like eyes was slimy and grey. From what Dorian could see of the top half of its body it was naked and seemed to shimmer in the dappled light. It's hair was clumped and damp above the water but beneath the surface it splayed beautifully among the weeds. 

"Who are you?" He asked it, his hand resting on his hip where his sword should be.

"My name is Desha." Its voice was sharp with its pitch changing dramatically with each syllable. It was hard for Dorian to understand, but the creature seemed to realise this and spoke slowly. 

"I am Dorian. Where am I?" He asked it, kneeling down beside the river. He'd never seen anything like it before. It wasn't evil, despite it black eyes. It gave the same impression as a deer or a fox. Something you might see from a distance and something you vary rarely got close to. 

"You are in the Flyte forest, in the Day Court." Desha's pupil-less eyes shifted. "You are not from here." 

"No, I am from Ardalan." He wondered why he was telling Desha. He couldn't picture this creature being much of a threat but then again Dorian was unarmed and wearing his night clothes. 

"That's not what the other one said." The sharp bones that shaped Desha's face seemed to move.  

"The other one?" Had someone else been here?

"Yes, Dorian. He smelt like you too. He also was not of our world." Its words got faster, as though it was getting excited.

"What do you mean 'not of your world'?" Dorian asked it, getting back to his feet and looking around.

"People have been coming and going, Dorian. Leaving this world and arriving. Something large is happening. The cauldron is shaking. I told the other to follow the river, Dorian. You will find the city." 

With its parting advice, Desha vanished beneath the surface of the river. It's black hair pooled around it for a moment more before disappearing too. Dorian waited a moment in case it reappeared before heading its words and starting up stream. He kept an eye on the water as he walked. Everyone so often, he thought he saw black eyes or waves of hair flicker beneath the surface but it was always gone in the next moment.

Dorian was only walking for about fifteenth minutes before he reached the edge of the forest and found himself in the city Desha had mentioned. The streets were crowded with fae. He could feel their magic clogging the air and saw the enhanced strength in their movements. From what he could see, their teeth were not sharp and yet they had pointed ears. This truly was another world. 

The fae gave him little attention as he shouldered his way through their mist. They were all shouting names or trying to console each other. Desha had said that people have vanished and appeared. Dorian had appeared here, so some of the fae must have vanished. 

Many of the females caught his eye. Their collective beauty seemed unnatural. Dorian guessed it was something to do with them being fae and felt a twinge of annoyance that the fae in his world didn't have increased beauty too.

The city was in a valley overlooked by a sweeping cliff half made of intensely blue waterfalls. Atop the cliff was a handsome manor house. Dorian set his sights towards the cliff. He was fairly certain there wasn't much of a possibility of it holding any of the answers he needed but he guessed it was a greater change than asking one of the enraged fae surrounding him for help. He strode through their mists, pretending not to notice those who saw his smooth ears and turned to watch him pass. Or maybe they had only noticed that he was dressed for bed.  

It wasn't until he heard worrying familiar snarling that he stopped. 

"Get out of my way before I rip your head off your neck." The voice and the words were also too familiar. Pushing through the huddle forming, he managed to get a glimpse of who was causing the commotion. 

Dorian sigh. Of all the people who could have joined him in another world, he had to be stuck with Lorcan.