[The fates are not kind to this one. In the middle of the 13th Hour, there is a flash of light in the forest of Capricorn; when it fades, a young boy of about twelve or thirteen stands shakily on his feet, using a baseball bat to steady himself. His face is drawn and pale. His first reaction to this inexplicable relocation is to call out to the companions he had been with only moments before.]
Boney? Kumatora? ...Duster?
[A short pause before he speaks once more, his voice wavering slightly.]
......Dad?
[What had happened? Where was he? Had the islands... -- ?
He had stepped forward to grasp the final Needle. He had pulled without hesitation. He had felt the stirring of the earth as the Dragon awakened from its eons-long slumber, seen the walls shaking and collapsing around him, felt gentle arms grasping him and pulling him close, seeking to protect him even until the very end. And a voice had whispered in his ear...
Could this be it? Could this be the world to which the desires of his heart had given birth? The Magypsies had never explained what the process would entail... But this place - you didn't have to be a psychic to know, immediately, that something was off, something was wrong. Red sky, still air, and an aura of danger palpably hanging from every gnarled tree limb. His steps are tremulous as he slowly makes his way forward; he feels, after everything that has happened in the last few hours, that he can hardly stand. After a few moments longer, he does not try to stand, choosing instead to lean back against a tree trunk and to sink slowly to the ground. ...He is not surprised to find that tears are still flowing slowly down his cheeks; they continue to flow as he leans his head back and stares up at the eerie crimson sky.
...He is sitting in this position when something rustles in the brush and leaps forward at what it assumes to be easy prey; it is met, instead, by a well-timed blow to the head from a bat.]
Open! | July 6th, Capricorn, 13th Hour
Boney? Kumatora? ...Duster?
[A short pause before he speaks once more, his voice wavering slightly.]
......Dad?
[What had happened? Where was he? Had the islands... -- ?
He had stepped forward to grasp the final Needle. He had pulled without hesitation. He had felt the stirring of the earth as the Dragon awakened from its eons-long slumber, seen the walls shaking and collapsing around him, felt gentle arms grasping him and pulling him close, seeking to protect him even until the very end. And a voice had whispered in his ear...
Could this be it? Could this be the world to which the desires of his heart had given birth? The Magypsies had never explained what the process would entail... But this place - you didn't have to be a psychic to know, immediately, that something was off, something was wrong. Red sky, still air, and an aura of danger palpably hanging from every gnarled tree limb. His steps are tremulous as he slowly makes his way forward; he feels, after everything that has happened in the last few hours, that he can hardly stand. After a few moments longer, he does not try to stand, choosing instead to lean back against a tree trunk and to sink slowly to the ground. ...He is not surprised to find that tears are still flowing slowly down his cheeks; they continue to flow as he leans his head back and stares up at the eerie crimson sky.
...He is sitting in this position when something rustles in the brush and leaps forward at what it assumes to be easy prey; it is met, instead, by a well-timed blow to the head from a bat.]
Get back!