Your character just received a delivery from Gienah Cygni. When they open
it, they find more motivation. Why was it sent to them?
Alaina slept fitfully. The noises in the city were different
from those in the forest she was used to. Sleeping on a bedroll wasn’t new,
though she was out of practice. Her bed in the cabin was softer, but not by
much. She’d have to look around for feathers when she got home.
Jigme had given her a small room to call her own while she
was with him and the crew. She wasn’t sure how long she was going to be there,
but at least she would have her own space.
The third time she woke up, after very few minutes of sleep,
she stood up and paced the room. Sometimes it helped to know the space better.
So she took the time to learn where everything was. There were boxes in the
corner, a skylight window in the ceiling, a rickety table and chair near the
door, and her pack by her pillow, where she could grab it in a heartbeat. The
floor was hard, smooth cement.
Her reconnaissance finished, she lay down on the bedroll and
slid into sleep.
She dreamed. Sirona came to her first, something that was
rare but not unheard of.
You are far away,
the goddess said, swirling steam molding itself into the figure of a shapely
young woman. I dislike this.
I know, goddess. It is
not my choice.
You always have a
choice.
Not this time. It is
the government. Alaina looked around the dreamscape. Where are we?
In your mind,
came the response.
I know that. But where…
Alaina broke off and bent down. The ground was soft and mossy, but there was
something shimmering beneath the leaves of a fern.
She lifted the leaves and swept her hand over the moss,
brushing the shimmery substance lightly as she did so. She looked up at the misty
goddess before her. What is this?
It is a fern. It is
moss. It is something that you need.
Something I need?
Alaina looked back down at the shimmery stuff and touched it with her finger. What is it?
It came from the
stars, and it is for you.
From the…
Alaina looked up at Sirona. The stars?
Yes. Gienah Cygni, to
be precise.
Epsilon Cygni?
That is another name
for it, yes.
Alaina scraped at the substance with her finger. It came up
easily and dripped down her finger into her palm. It’s warm.
Gather as much of it
as you can.
Why?
Because you need it.
Alaina scooped up as much of the stuff as she could in her
cupped hands and looked up at Sirona. Now
what?
Ingest it. You need
it within you, not without.
Alaina’s mouth dropped open. She looked at her goddess and
then at the goop in her hands. It was warm, and the shimmer made it look a bit
like mercury. Its consistency was more like that of melting Jell-O.
I don’t know if I
should eat this.
It is a dream,
Alaina. You may eat it or not, it is up to you. But you know as well as I do
that things that happen in dreams have an impact on what happens in life.
Alaina bowed her head. I
do know that, thank you Sirona.
She bent her head and sipped the silvery stuff. It was sweet
and tasted of raspberries. She drank it all, though she wasn’t sure why she was
doing so.
When she was finished, she looked up at Sirona.
I have drunk it all.
What was it for?
You will know when
you awaken. Do return home as soon as you can.
Alaina nodded and closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, she was in her bed in the small
room in Bhutan.
Her motivation to see the mission through to the end was
increased. She felt stronger, more certain of her work and what she was going
to achieve through all of this.
It was energizing.
A new character arrives, wearing a black hole piece of clothing, and
carrying Pikachu.
Timothy woke up late on Saturday morning. He lay in bed for
a bit, trying to decide what he wanted to do. His mother didn’t make him do a
whole lot on Saturdays, just clean his room and help with the general chores,
like always. So he was free to watch TV all morning and then go outside to play
with his friends if he wanted to. And today, he wanted to.
He got up and went to his dresser. He opened the top drawer
and pawed through it until he found a piece of paper. He pulled it out and
checked to make sure that it had everything on it, then tucked it back into its
spot and closed the drawer. He took his housecoat from its hook and put on his
slippers—both items his mother insisted he wear if he was prowling the house in
his pyjamas—and left the room for the bathroom.
After the bathroom, he went to the kitchen and got a bowl of
Froot Loops and milk and a glass of orange juice, and went to the living room.
He set his breakfast on the low tray he kept on the floor in front of the
coffee table and used the remote to turn on the TV.
Halfway through his third show, the doorbell rang. He ran
over and peeked out the window beside the door. There was a woman standing on
the step. He couldn’t tell anything else about the woman.
Timothy ran down the hall to his mother’s room.
“What is it, Timothy?” she asked in response to his
knocking.
“There’s a lady at the door!”
“Who is she?”
“I don’t know, I didn’t answer it!”
“Well, go see if she’s still there, and find out why she’s
here!”
“Okay!” Timothy ran back to the living room and opened the
door.
The lady on the doorstep looked down at him and smiled.
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