The heralds lift their trumpets for a brief fanfare as the doors open to admit a newcomer. "The Lady Elise Antoine de Bellefeuille, from the Sky Island of Rephidim," one of the heralds announces, his voice projecting enough to fill the hall. Conversation hushes at this, and many eyes turn to look at the latest arrival.

"Oh my," whispers Elise as she discovers herself in quite the situation. A few blinks and a bit of mild blushing later she regains her bearings enough to react to the introduction. A charming smile is cast around the room as both a quiet greeting and a method of seeing just exactly what is around her.

It's difficult for her to make out any details of who might be at the gathering from where she stands at the top of the stairs. The partygoers on the level opposite her are too distant to make out their features, and the same is true for the dancers on the floor below. A few of the people who stopped talking to watch her might be returning her smile. Most return to what they were doing before the herald's interruption.

The massive marble doors swing shut slowly behind her. There's only one way to go now: down one of the curving staircases to the dance floor.

Without hesitation, the poodle makes her way down the steps and further into this new place. The stairs are taken delicately, for it would appear Elise has found herself in an unfamiliar costume that requires careful navigation of the steps lest she trip and fall. As she continues downwards, she pauses towards the base to take good look at that dance floor.

As Elise moves down the long, elegant steps, the murmur of voices that had raised while she stood at the top fades again, eventually into total silence, as more and more people turn to watch her. Her descent brings her into view of the towering mirrors which form the walls of the dancing area, making the space seem infinite with reflections.

A collar of sapphire and diamonds rests on her shoulders, circling close to her neck, a pendant sapphire teardrop nestling in the hollow between her collarbones. Finest silk, in a hue that matches her eyes, drapes in soft folds from a loose, cowled neckline that leaves most of her shoulders bare. The material seems sprinkled with stardust, glittering as she moves, and fits snugly about her waist, clinging lovingly to her hips and thighs. At the knees, the dress flares out, slippery cloth whispering sensually against her calves, flirtatiously concealing and revealing their outlines with each step.

Along her back, a latticework of fine silver chains exposes the fur from shoulder to the base of her tail, and leaves an open diamond shape entirely bare at mid-back. Material similar to that of the dress, but woven so fine as to be translucent, has been attached at the shoulders to drift behind her like a cloak. It dips low at the center, in loose folds, so that it in no way conceals the silver chains, only gathering together at the base of her spine to cover her tail. When it reaches the floor, it joins the hem of the dress in a graceful train for a few yards behind her.

The partygoers seem more awed and fascinated by the canid's appearance than anything else. Elise's attire, wholly unlike that of every other female at the ball, seems in some profound if undefined manner more appropriate for the occasion than all the rest. By comparison, the other gowns, exquisite minutes before, now look both overly elaborate and insufficiently formal.

For the longest moment, the cadet has no idea what to do other than vainly stare at herself in one of the mirrors. Upon remembering her manners again, she lifts her fan and gently unfolds it before covering her face, and her growing blush. She simply has not the slightest idea what to do beyond this for a while longer. It's all just so much, so very overwhelming as to cause the poodle to soak in the wonder of it all.

Even the orchestra is silent, having completed its latest piece and not yet set in to a new number, as some of the musicians crane their necks to get a look at the newest arrival. A tall, attractive male Eeee with chocolate brown fur turns from his most recent partner to approach Elise as she reaches the last final steps. He stops several paces from her, simply looking at her in admiration. "Lady de Bellefeuille," he says, "You are even more beautiful than the last time I saw you."

From her place several steps above the Eeee, the apparent center of attention dips her fan slightly to gaze at the man in front of her. She studies him quietly from behind the hiding veil that is her fan before she steps forward and offers him her hand. "Lios," she greets him with a smile that appears as the fan is lowered, "I am so pleased to see you again."

After a long interval, the eerie silence ends as the orchestra begins to play again. The other guests turn back to their partners or companions and resume their previous activities, although more than a few longing glances are cast by males towards the snowy-furred poodle.

The Eeee male seems almost to leap forward in his anxiousness to take her hand. His grasp is delicate, as if he were afraid that to do anything more forceful would hurt her, or startle her away, and he bows low to place a kiss against the back of her knuckles. "Not half so pleased as I, my lady," he says, heartfelt.

The redness in Elise's ears only grows at this treatment. Despite being a noble, it has been years since she had been treated this way. And even then, in much lesser degrees than this. It's quite enough to bypass any barriers the young noble might have against appearing so easily charmed. "Tell me, where are we exactly?" she asks the man in front of her as she looks around. "This is much unlike the places I feel I have been before. Yet, at the same time, it is strangely familiar to me."

He straightens, eyes closed, and opens them slowly to gaze at her again, seeming almost surprised to see her still there. "I half-expected you to vanish, like a mirage, my lady." His voice is almost inaudible over the background noise of the party. "It does not seem possible that such perfect beauty could be real." It takes him a moment of rapt staring before her words sink in. "Ah, vision, we are at a ball in honor of the New Year. There can be no finer party, for it is in the lands of the Sister of Pleasure Herself that it is held."

"Oh I will not fade away, I have a growing interest in this gathering and would not think to leave so soon." She smiles a little more, pausing, before taking a few more steps to the base of the stairs so that she is beside the man. "I recall my New Year party going quite a bit differently than this. However, being this is New Year's, that would seem strange yes?"

There is a quick indrawn breath from the man as Elise steps closer. He still holds her fingers lightly between his. "Lady, with you beside me, I do not think I could tell up from down, and I could quite forget what holiday we celebrate. Your arrival is the only occasion I believe worth honoring now." He has dark brown eyes, almost black, and gazes longingly at her. "Would you do me the unutterable kindness of dancing with me, Lady Elise?"

The dancers on the floor before her are moving gracefully in an intricate series of steps, sways, and spins. While not wholly unlike the dances known on Rephidim, it is nonetheless decidedly unfamiliar.

If she were not already still blushing, Elise would certainly be now. "Oh, you do flatter me. Such kind words are undeserved," she tells him as she fans herself a little. A smile creeps at the edge of her lips and she inclines her head to him. "A dance? Certainly." She folds the fan closed and awaits his lead.

Lios does not wait for a second invitation. He sweeps her into his arms and onto the floor, holding her left hand in his right, and cradling her body close, as the other males are doing at the moment with their partners. "If my words are undeserved, it is only because they are too pitiful to describe one such as you." He nestles his head against her hair for a moment. "Tell me, beautiful lady, where do you come from? Did the heavens themselves open up to deposit you, fully formed, upon these lands?"

Far above Elise, unnoticed among the numerous people lining the balustrade on the upper level, a black-furred Eeee stands with fingers clenched against the rail. His eyes, glowing an intense green that has consumed the pupils, watch the beautiful poodle dance with Lios. Dark gray wisps, like tendrils of smoke, drift lazily around his torso and arms.

An anguished, longing look is cast above as Elise tilts her head back a little. It is a pained motion, for encountering one's dreams can be quite painful when one tries to deny them as Elise tends to do. A brief, quiet sigh follows and she lowers her head and focuses on her dancing. "Heavens, no, nothing so very grand as that. Although I suppose saying I come from above would be fitting enough. As the herald mentioned, I am from the Sky Island of Rephidim."

Her partner follows her gaze upwards, and seems alarmed by the look of distress on her face. "Did they say so?" he asks, sheepish. "I fear I heard the sound of your name and after that, naught else registered. Are you well, my dear? You seem … hurt, somehow."

Elise shakes her head in dismissal. "I am fine. I simply had something on my mind, but it has since passed." She tilts her head just a bit and looks to her partner. "May I ask of you? Where is it that you come from in this strange unfamiliar land?"

"You may ask anything you want of me, Lady de Bellefeuille. If you asked me to take the Procession of Souls from the sky so that you might wear it as a necklace about your throat, I would gladly spend the rest of my days trying." He briefly touches the tip of his nose to her hair again as they dance. "But my origin is of no interest, I'm afraid. I am from an outlying province in Ashdod; my family, the Seteris, owns a modest estate."

"And are you no more a figment of this place than the others around us?" asks Elise as if the question were common enough. As she continues to dance, one of her ears flicks as she is prone to do when something has her attention. With a question in mind, and a question posed, she glances off towards where she thought she saw something out of place above.

As the female partners of all the other dancing couples are swung out to do a neat pirouette on the floor before returning to their face-to-face positions, Lios does the same with Elise. His body telegraphs the motion fairly well, but even so the poodle falters a little as she goes through the maneuver. While she is embarrassed by the slip, a part of her mind is surprised at her relative grace in responding appropriately at all, given her unfamiliarity with this dance in particular, and for that matter, lack of practice in dancing in general.

The glimpse of smoke she earlier saw is nowhere to be seen, now. Then she realizes what had seemed out of place – there is no smoke anywhere in the hall, although it is brilliantly illuminated by what are quite likely tens of thousands of candles, all suspended from sparkling crystal chandeliers, or held on tables in glass candelabras.

Quite surprised by being put through such a move, the elegantly dressed poodle loses sight of what she was looking for, and attempts to see if she can locate it again if at all. However she cannot help but wonder exactly how she came to be able to respond so well. Indeed, though she attended charm school for a few years before switching to the Officers' Academy, she was never this versed. "Hm." She looks to Lios again after not finding what she had been searching for. "My question? Will you not answer it?"

Lios catches her glancing about herself, and he asks, "Are you looking for someone?" A note of jealousy taints his voice, then his ears pinken with embarrassment. "A thousand apologies, fairest among beauties. I will confess I am a little confused by your query. I do not think I am a figment, but then again, I did not think the others here were, either."

"I thought I saw something, but again, it has passed. You need not worry." Her smile fades a little. "Do you not realize our purpose here then? As nice as this all is … ," she stops the sentence to glance around the room one more time before looking back and continuing, " … this is not merely what it seems. I … should try and remind myself of that more. No looking into mirrors, now."

Cradling her against his body, Lios presses his muzzle against the side of her head, for an instant holding her almost too close, making her feet stumble. He recovers and helps prevent Elise from falling out of place in the dance. Looking apologetic, he responds, "Our purpose here, my dearest? I can think of only one purpose for myself at the present, and I do not have nearly the arrogance to believe you would share that thought with me."

While Elise is glancing about the room for the final time, she at last catches sight of the earlier anomaly. An Eeee with midnight fur and fine clothes of the same hue saunters casually towards her, skirting the dance floor, eyes glowing and odd tendrils of distorted gray air fanning out around him, dissipating and reforming as they twine. Walking just behind him is a gray-furred female Eeee, dressed in a heavy, elaborately ornamented gown like the rest of the women.

At this sight, Elise's eyes widen slightly and her ears flick in a nervous twitch. "Excuse me," she tells her dance partner as she continues to watch the two approaching her out of the corner of her eye, "I am simply rattling on. I do hope such nonsense has not offended you."

The orchestral piece proceeds gently to its conclusion, leaving Lios standing before Elise, their hands linked. He bows reverently to her. "Nothing you do could ever offend me, dearest lady," he assures her.

The black Eeee bows as he comes to stand beside the pair. "Lovely to see you again, Lady de Bellefeuille," he murmurs in greeting, a slight smile on his face. "Might I be so bold as to request the pleasure of the next dance?" When he straightens, his eerie green eyes lock onto Elise's for an instant, then he politely averts them.

Elise, upon hearing the voice of the man she knows as "the Mystic", freezes so that she stares ahead and at her current dance partner, and thus avoids his eyes despite them having been averted. "Excuse me," she tells Lios with a now strained smile, "I do believe this man has waited his turn patiently. If you would not mind, I would like to dance with him."

The chocolate-furred bat looks disturbed by both the request, and even more so by the strain in Elise's smile. He glances about in consternation, searching for some graceful way to avoid relinquishing his dance partner, but sees none. The Mystic's smile widens very briefly at Elise's acquiescence, then vanishes entirely. He turns to Lios with a nod. "If you would excuse us?"

No other alternatives seem forthcoming for Lios. He graciously if reluctantly releases Elise's hands, allowing the shorter bat to take his place. Doing so, the black bat closes his eyes, veiling their disturbing incandescence, and offers Elise a warm, reassuring smile.

A brief true smile is given to Lios as he steps aside, before Elise turns to focus her attention on the shorter Eeee. She gives the Mystic a returned smile even though she knows he can likely not see it, and steps closer to him. "I was uncertain if we would meet again. You … look strange to me now. What has happened?" she asks him in a whisper when she nears.

As Elise is stolen away from him, the gray-furred bat who'd accompanied the Mystic to the spot bustles up to Lios, smiling winningly. After one last longing look at the poodle, the other male invites the ornately garbed Eeee to dance.

The dark-furred bat draws Elise close, mimicking the position of the other dancers. "I would ask the same of you, Lady de Bellefeuille," he answers in a voice as low as hers. "You have changed more than I." To her shock, Elise realizes that he stands nearly a full head taller than her, whereas she can distinctly recall them being of even height at their last encounter.

Eyes blink a few times in mild shock as Elise realizes this fact. She now needs to look up at the Mystic in order to see his face fully. "I … see that. How utterly disturbing." She allows a frown now that she feels she need not hide a displeased look any longer, or at least until she must leave the Mystic. "But no matter. I have some idea as to what became of me; have you any idea as to your situation?"

The musicians set in to a new piece, one mellow and rich with resonance. "Shush now," he murmurs, his voice gentle. "Don't speak." The dance begins, and he sweeps her into an elegant arc across the floor. As he moves, the gray smoke swirls out from his body to embrace hers, the tendrils seen but unfelt as they twine about her for a moment, then vanish, sinking beneath her fur. Please don't be afraid. The words echo in her head, tone imploring, almost desperate. My intent is neither to harm nor control you, Lady de Bellefeuille. His eyes meet hers again, and the pupils have returned to them, the glow gone like the smoke.

What you saw as different in me was an enchantment I held. I've now cast it upon us. … It will allow us to communicate with each other without, I hope, being overheard. If you wish to tell me something, think it loudly – or imagine yourself saying it – and I will hear you. Let me assure you, I cannot read your mind … only those thoughts you project enough for me to feel. It only seems to take a moment for this information to be conveyed into Elise's head, alien thoughts which in an odd way hold the resonance of the Mystic's voice.

As the cadet is whisked off into another dance, she puts up no resistance. Instead she, although uncertain as to just why, trusts the Mystic's movements and his words. The vanishing smoke causes her to tense slightly, but she relaxes as a little once she hears the words echoing in her head. As hesitant, or at least as one can be within one's mind, Elise attempts to respond. Can you hear me? If indeed you can, have you any idea as to our purpose here?

I can hear you, fair lady. Thank you for your trust, wholly unearned as it comes. An overtone of relief, then the voice in her mind continues, this time with a note of urgency in it. Now, anyone watching us will know that I've worked a spell upon you. What they will not know is the nature and intent of that spell. If you would be so kind as to aid a paranoid Eeee in a little obfuscation, you might look on me a bit more fondly, perhaps adoringly, pretending that my magic was intended to make you more predisposed to admire me.

In her mind, Elise cannot help but chuckle softly. And indeed she may very well project this to the Mystic before she switches to a much more formal tone. Yes, of course. And upon that agreement she puts her ruse into action. Her smile brightens a little and she shifts her gaze to stare, apparently lost in those deep green eyes. She scoots a bit closer as well before leaning her head a little on the Mystic's shoulder. I have had some practice in feigning my interest in someone. … (Sigh. They never did leave me alone) … Will this suffice?

When Elise commences her deception, the Eeee tenses slightly, before deliberately relaxing. He returns her gaze with his customary intensity. At the fringes of her mind, Elise can sense a wave of emotion, but it's contained in some inexplicable way, so that she cannot ascertain its precise nature. That will … suffice most admirably, my lady. Thank you again. Faintly, (perhaps this was not one of my most brilliant inspirations.) A moment of silence while he composes himself, then, As to your question, I fear I have precious little more information on the "why" of this situation than I did when last we met. However –

… I do know something new. When we met before, I knew there was something different about you. As we spoke, I came to recognize part of it – you did not belong here. This realm is the product of magic, and those who cast the spell did not draw you in. As such, they were not controlling you at all. You were free of their influence, while I and the others around us – like that tall handsome man you were just now dancing with – are all being influenced to some degree or another. Nothing more enters her head for a moment, then at last, Lady de Bellefeuille, this is no longer true. True sadness flows into her along with the words. They are inside you now. Please, tell me what has happened to you since we last met.

Silently the two dance, but this silence extends only so far as what can see or here. Inside, Elise is quite active; in appearance she only stares at the man and continues in her dance steps. (His eyes are … ) A pause, and then a feeling of confusion extends from her before she moves to respond. But as she gathers her thoughts to answer what happened, her deep shame can easily be felt by the Mystic. I am a fool, that is what I am. I fell for their trick within a Hall of Mirrors. I allowed my vanity and dreams to get the better of me and now … you see what has become of it. I can feel the change inside me, and it is … Conflicting emotions rise up before she finishes, as if she cannot clearly define how she feels about the change. While some part of her feels sadness at a loss, another is ashamed at her failure, and a faint third comes out repressed – this last feeling, a vague desire for the change. … disturbing.

Even while his thoughts are being projected, a second current of information flows from the Mystic into the poodle's mind. This alternate thread is not even consciously recognized for a few minutes by Elise, until he takes her through a perfectly executed spin followed by a sway which lays her head back almost to the floor before he pulls her upright again. Then she recognizes that he's also telling her how to dance. She now knows, almost instinctively, exactly how he is moving now, what he will be doing next, and how her body needs to move for the correct response.

A wave of sympathy from the black-furred Eeee, then inquiry, Hall of Mirrors? Tell me more, please.

Although the strange feeling of being fed how to dance through a link she has little understanding of is strange to her, Elise finds there are more important things to be considering. Only a small sense of unease is generated by this before her mind moves on and her body continues to go along with the dance. I had, after I gained the ticket from you, moved on to a Hall of Mirrors. Despite a warning against it, I … stared into a mirror reflection – a most perfect and ladylike reflection of myself. It was then that I realized I had become that reflection. More shame wafts through the link as well as a building fear that began when the Mystic first mentioned she had been affected.

Understanding and reassurance can be felt clearly from the Eeee. I see. Do not judge yourself too harshly, Elise – it is easier to say "do not look" than it is to do, especially when faced with what one most desires … to see. His green eyes drift along the contours of her face, then for a moment down her neck and body as the pattern of the dance takes them through another backwards sweep, before he brings her upright again. (preserve me) A little shake of his head, then a question. Did you see aught else in this Hall of Mirrors?

As Elise pulls up from the sweep, she finds herself staring into the Mystic's eyes once again, and the waves of unpleasant emotion fade. As if Elise herself were just realizing this, she breaks the facade long enough to blink once and tilt her head a little before dropping her head against his shoulder again. (Horribly squeaky … ? How can I … ) The emotions quickly shift, but not back to fear. No, they seem to become coated with a sort of dulled resistance. I witnessed other aspects of myself. The Warrior who I was forced … no, chose to flee from when she attacked me, and the Scholar who berated me for my mistake. I saw no others, but find it off that my personalities could be split much like that winged one I was with.

Despite the Mystic's clear concern for the canid's predicament, an underlying sense of pleasure emanates from him, as well. Joy in the feel of her soft, supple body against his, relish for the ease with which they dance together, delight which shows as he takes her through ever-more-complex movements, lifts, and spins. The pair is drawing stares again as the dance floor clears a space for them to perform in, while the mage shows sublime obliviousness to it, his attention wholly absorbed by his elegant canid partner.

Like the winged one… ? Ah, "I am the winner of this game"… A brief flash of horror flickers and is gone, as he narrows his focus back to Elise's specific problem. Other aspects of yourself, I see. You said that it was a lady-like figure which you gazed at for a long time, and then apparently became. Did you look deeply at the other two you encountered?

I did not. I decided after the first problem that further gazing into mirrors may simply cause more of a predicament than I was already in. Eyes, were they wandering, might easily notice the change occurring around them. However Elise does not gaze around, indeed she does not shift her gaze at all. (I do not care what you say. He is not horrible.) The stray words, following a deeply hidden second track of thought, generate a sort of rebellious anger that seems directed against quite a few targets. But not the Mystic. Despite this, Elise does not realize her slip awaits the next communication.

Understanding again. Sensible of you … you said this was a Hall of Mirrors, but you've only described three different reflections that you saw. Did all the mirrors show you one of these three images? Or, if there were other images shown, what were they like?

After a second of consideration, Elise answers. The emotion from before is still simmering in her however. There was originally … a reflection of a fox. Indeed this fox seems to appear quite often in my journeys here. He tends to give hints in the form of song, which is quite irritating, as well as other help. I … likely should have listened to him more instead of treating him so badly however. A tinge of regret can be felt for her treatment of the fox.

A fox? Surprise. You don't think of yourself as a fox, do you?

A sudden energy can be felt from Elise as she remembers and reports something that seems to be important. The fox is the one who originally met me when I first arrived in this dream world. I believe he serves someone … Oh! Yes, Morpheus. At the question, Elise responds with suppressed annoyance. I most certainly do not. I doubt he was linked to me, but Morpheus.

Morpheus. His thoughts go dark with contemplation. I must remember that name. What else do you recall of this Morpheus?

I recall that he is supposedly the God of Dreams, at least, within mythology. Of course I never gave credence to the existence of foreign gods … A tinge of amusement colors her thoughts, followed by a fear – a fear of having insulted someone. And the only person she is speaking with is … … otherwise I have no information on him. To be quite honest, I seem to have been pulled here with an objective in mind. To … rescue the trapped mages. However, I am not terribly fond of being used by a force that I cannot even identify. I believe I now have my own objectives. Confidence wells up in her, and, she smiles a little more at the Mystic.

Mirth at her comment on foreign gods. I fear you might have to give more credence to them than was your wont, Lady Bellefeuille. A tinge almost of regret. All right, so the lesson from this is to be kind to singing foxes. Amusement sparkles in his deep green eyes. There were only four mirrors in this Hall, then? A most unusual set up for a Hall of Mirrors, he muses. And what would those objectives be, my lady? Curiosity, now.

A shared amusement now. Yes. It does appear I can no longer ignore Babelite gods, at least. She smiles a little more and adjusts her head, moving a bit closer now. (I wonder if he … No. I cannot think of that now.) Mm. I find singing foxes to invoke their own punishments anyway. She giggles a bit inwardly, however the motion is tainted by a subtle concern lasting from a previous thought. No, the Hall of Mirrors had many mirrors. But only those stood out in my mind. The rest were … mundane. And my objective? Why … to see this dream end. For all of us. I am tired of being used, and I believe you feel much the same way.

A wave of delight as she presses closer. The music is winding down, the dancers doing little more than swaying in place now. One hand at the small of her back strokes gently at the fur exposed by the lattice of chains. His mind latches onto one word. Mundane? Did they show you as you normally see yourself, then? A murmur of agreement and understanding at her words about being used, but with an odd undercurrent, (don't let it end).

The music at last begins to slow, and the couples come to a halt as a last lonely wind instrument spirals through a solo into silence. The mage does not release Elise, however, holding her close and swaying gently with her. Eyes closed, cheek pressed against her hair. (intoxicating) Please do not stop dancing with me, Lady de Bellefeuille. A muffled wave of longing washes over her. The spell will terminate if we stop dancing for more than a few moments. This last is added almost as an afterthought.

Oh, no I mean … oh what do I mean again? Oh yes, the mirrors are what one would expect in a House of Mirrors. Various distortions, nothing one could not find in li- … The intensity of the emotions, and even more so their flavor, cause Elise to lose track of what she was thinking of. Confusion is returned, but it is overwhelmed by a tide of emotion of her own. A sense of shamed joy rushes through her before an intense fear nearly drowns it. Her head jerks up to gaze searchingly into the Mystic's eyes, but despite the suddenness of the motion, she does not stop dancing – or, holding on to him. I … Tell me. Think clearly! Do, are … Do you wish me to remain with you because I am affecting you with my own radiant enchantment caused by this place … or because you wish it?

The Mystic swallows at her last question, and this time it is he who closes his eyes to escape her gaze. I do not know, he answers simply.

After a long struggle to organize his thoughts, he opens his eyes and continues. You are … impossibly beautiful. I never imagined anything short of the Beautiful Ladies themselves might be as attractive as you are to me now. He lifts one hand to touch her cheek, fingers cradling it tenderly. I am a mind mage, by the Kindly Ones! I am accustomed to having control of at least my own thoughts! Wry amusement. You say this is not you – that it's a glamour put upon you by Inala – and I know that is true. But it is also not true. This is a part of you. I know it…

A glance is cast partially around the room before Elise decides she simply does not care about what is happening around her. Hesitantly at first she moves a bit closer and … squeezes the Mystic in a hug. Conflicting emotion swirls unrepressed now, allowing the Mystic a full taste of what she is feeling as it all seems to carry a heavy intensity. Words too come in fragments as sentences are broken while thoughts change before they are finished. (Does he … no, impossible.) (Maybe it … is? By the First Ones … I … ) ( … using you … ) At last she is unable to deal with them all at once and presses her head against his chest. I do not know either, … An admittance without a question.

It's a part of you which is trying, I think, to take over all of you. But Elise, you must know that the gestalt of you – all of you – was – is beautiful, too. It is not just a glamour which makes me want you here. He returns the hug in full measure, eyes squeezed shut, one hand caressing the back of her head and neck as she presses against his chest.

Another wave of emotion now, similar to the last but with the doubt absent. A certain degree of shame however remains. She simply surrenders to her own feelings and hugs him without reservation. Tell me your name? Please? I want something of you to bring into the waking world, so that … you are not just a dream to me? Please?

For a moment, he seems to be on the verge of answering. Elise can nearly hear his name at the edges of her mind. Then a flood of mortal terror, and a wall slams in place between their thoughts, almost severing the connection. The black-furred Eeee breathes shallowly, his body trembling. "I'm sorry, Elise," he whispers aloud. Tentatively, an edge of the wall crumbles away, letting a thought whisper through, Please believe me … I would tell you – do you understand? But it's too great a risk, even like this. I cannot chance that they would hear me. I am so sorry. His ears droop backwards, shame radiating from his mind.

I understand. Two words that drain a lot of energy from Elise's emotions, to the point where they appear quite faded in projection. She stands up a bit straighter and moves back a little so she can dance with a bit of distance between them. But, do not think I will give up on you for being safe. Perhaps when we have done all we can do, then … But for now we should concern ourselves with how to end this. Tell me, do you know what I can do to hinder the plans of either of the forces at work here? Hope shines within her now, and the faded emotions melt under it like snow in the bright of day.

Music swells once more, and the unnamed Eeee resumes the dance with Elise. Flickers of sorrow range around his mind, but the shame drains off with the knowledge of her understanding, whatever the price. I do not know anything about the nature of your Morpheus. But whether you like him or not, I suspect he is your ally against those who created this realm. If you can play them off each other, you may be more successful than trying to fight both at once.

The poodle begins her dancing anew as the music once again starts up. An excellent strategy. Unfortunately, Morpheus seems be rather one-way in his conversations with me. The fox will appear, give some sort of hint, and then vanish. Rarely can I inquire of him. She considers the situation a moment longer, her eyes absently drifting along the Eeee in front of her. Tell me, who is that other I saw you with? She seems … much like we are. Is she another mage?

For this piece of music, the males hold the hands of the females and turn them first to face away, so that the two sway together, front to back, and then turn them again so they face each other once more, as they move in languid circles across the floor. Not the most useful of allies, I see. What sorts of "hints" has this fox given you, my lady? He responds to her question with puzzlement. Lady I was with? When?

As she has since the dance began, Elise allows herself to be led both physically and mentally through the dance. Her concentration reserved for more pressing matters. Typically hints regarding some soon to be encountered problem. Also, he seems to require that I, along with the others, free trapped dream mages. Tell me, have you any information about them? Her eyes turn for a moment to glance in the direction of the female Eeee with Lios before looking back. Her. She walked towards me when you did, right behind you. She now dances with Lios.

As the Mystic turns Elise to face away from him, his hands linked with hers, her arms crossing over her chest, she sees the other dancers moving in a similar fashion. The Eeee females make the half-circle spin with startling grace, their wings half-spreading as they begin the turn, then folding close over their fronts, wing joints resting against clasped hands. Her? He follows her gaze, and silently chuckles. You're right in that she's not a figment. Quite a few people here are based on reality, I believe. Perhaps a quarter of them? But she's no mage.

She did come with me deliberately, of course. His smile lingers. She danced with your tall friend earlier this evening and has been watching him wistfully ever since. I persuaded her that this would be her chance to get his attention again.

He returns his attention to Elise's question at last. As for trapped dream mages … I know that the phenomenon is occurring, although it's rare among the surface mages. I can only guess at the why. I suspect that their powers are being tapped, in some fashion, by those who've created this realm. Freeing them would therefore weaken this elaborate structure we find ourselves within.

Do you know who she is then? Or who she may be in life? It could possibly be of some assistance to me if you knew who she was. Also, perhaps you can speak of your involvement here? What is your original objective as given to you by Ashdod? And if you could, what is Ashdod's overall plan for this place? In order to place the two powers here against each other, I must first know what they want. Another smile is cast towards the Mystic as the dance continues. (Certainly a better New Year.)

A musical chime sounds, out of cadence with the orchestral playing, and the poodle's blue eyes are drawn to a large clock inset on the wall just above the great marble doors. Its hands show the time as 11:30. The Mystic seems amused by Elise's questioning. I'm afraid I don't recognize any of these people, my lady. I can sense their thoughts, a little. Or, to be more apt, I can tell that they are thinking. The figments … aren't. For the most part. It's an odd feeling. In life I might be able to generate a similar "sense" of the people around me, but it would require a ritual of some potency. Here, it's simply natural.

Ashdod, to the best of my knowledge, did not place me here. He swings Elise about to face him again, and smiles into her eyes. Nor was I given instructions on what to do. In the first dream I had of this place, it seemed like an ordinary dream. I had no real awareness of my waking-world life. I knew that this was Inala's carnival, and that I was a performer in it. I felt … an obligation to the game, as I played it, even more than to winning. An obligation to play it correctly, as it should be. As time progressed, I became a little more aware of the nature of the setting. I understood that there were mages who perpetuated it, and that Inala did not necessarily wish for my competitor to lose.

Hm. Then who here is … thinking, and who can you tell is not? If we can identify those that think, we may be able to locate the trapped dream mage here. The poodle casts another glance at the Eeee with Lios. I wonder who these others are? I do not believe they were sent here as I was to accomplish something, and I do not know if they have some objective in this given to them by Ashdod. Possibly they are here as some sort of reward, as … Lios seems to be fairly ordinary in life. She considers a moment longer before adding another thought. You are not from Ashdod? I had assumed you were. Knowing you are not is a relief, however, now I have no idea who you might be. Unless you are the trapped mage. But you do not seem trapped as the other was. You can … act.

The Mystic continues, still thoughtful. But I was not entirely myself. Only when you and I spoke later in the tent did I become conscious of the way I was being manipulated. Until then, it all followed dream-logic – do you understand what I mean? That was my place, and of course I would perform it, because it was my place, and what else would I do? It made sense at the time. A faint shake of his head to clear the reverie. No, I am from Ashdod. But my country does not command all my actions.

I am the only mage here. The answer comes without hesitation. I have considered that notion, that I am the one whom you've been sent to free. Perhaps my belief that I am a mage of the Sphere of Mind is misplaced, a glamour set to throw you off? But I find it unlikely. When I was under the glamour of being a carnival performer, my recollection of my life seemed very simple, straightforward. My memories of the waking world as this persona are very detailed and precise. I do not think this much could be feigned. I am not a dream mage.

Eyes shift as the cadet studies the Eeee's face once again – this time, searchingly as if trying to find something she missed before. You … do not appear to be a creation of this world. You are different from the others. But you do not seem like myself and the others sent by Morpheus. I am at a loss as to what your part is in this. Perhaps if you explained your life to me, what you can, I could have a better idea as to your place in this?

The black-furred bat swings his partner's arms out to her sides as he steps closer, in cadence with the dance, then their linked hands fall together to brush against their hips as their bodies sway together. He gives her words some consideration. The strongest link between my life and this dream realm is magic – I am a practitioner of it, and this realm exists because of it. If I was drawn into it for any reason, it would be that one. Perhaps it's because this dream ensnares so many other dreaming minds, and I am following unconsciously with them? Or perhaps it is simply because I am an Eeee, as well, and a follower of the Seven Sisters. There is a strong connection here with the Kindly Ones, although the exact nature of it is unclear to me.

He frowns thoughtfully. Apart from you, I think the others here are all believers in the Beautiful Ladies. This place seeks to tap that reservoir of belief, I think. The mages are either trying to serve the Ladies by enhancing their power … or they are trying to harness that power, and control them. His eyes narrow.

But if it were simply that, then there would be many mages here. I have heard that the temples of the Seven Sisters employ mages within their ranks. Also, you cannot be the only mind mage in Ashdod to worship the Seven Sisters. Therefore, you must be special in some way to be here. Elise frowns ever so slightly at his words and nods a little despite herself. Harness that power? For themselves? If that is true, that would be a considerable help in my planning.

Also, if belief is a fuel … then the reverse might cause a drain … A quick thought is added as soon as Elise considers it.

I am the only mage here. But is this the whole of the dream realm? And there are fewer mages than you think in Ashdod, and fewer still of the Sphere of Mind. I only know of one other Eeee who practices my sphere with any degree of skill. What puzzles me more is why you are here? Maybe your Morpheus thinks that merely your presence, as an unbeliever, will weaken the mages. Would that I understood their motives. The dark Eeee nestles his muzzle against Elise's hair, tip brushing against one of her ears.

The Mystic's breath tickles at the poodle's ear as he nods his assent with her afterthought. Precisely. Also … there was something about the Carnival. It was important that you progress, I recall. Do you remember how you came to be at the Carnival? Did your dreams start there, as mine did?

A flash of mischievous energy is cast off by Elise. Perhaps you are simply here to charm me into inaction. She smiles a little more and leans her head against his. Apparently I am thought of as a heroine by Morpheus. The only objective I was told – and this was rather vague – was to release the mages. Now I seem to have been left alone. Perhaps … Oh no, no. My dreams began on a small island. My winged friend said it rather reminded her of a planet, one of the newly discovered ones, I believe. From there I proceeded beneath the island to a temple, and from there to a crossroads of gods. We chose the path of Inala and proceeded upon it to the Carnival. From there I alone went within the Hall of Mirrors and then found myself here after leaving it.

The movements of the dance create another half-spin, leaving Elise with her back pressed to the bat's chest, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, fingers linked through hers. He nestles his muzzle against her head once more. Am I charming you into inaction, my lady? With the tip of his muzzle tucked beside her ear, it almost seems as though he is whispering to her. Here I thought I was helping you look for answers. His tone possesses a note of mock-injury. A crossroads of the gods? One path for each of the Ladies, then. And you chose Inala's…

Well … perhaps you are. You, well … Ahem, we should focus. Despite her urging clarity, Elise leans her head back against the Eeee – certainly not an action conducive to planning since it only generates more feelings of happiness rather than leaving her mind clear to think. Perhaps I should try the power of disbelief. Would you think that wise? I could certainly make a scene and attempt to direct the energy of this room against Inala.

"Tests of the Goddesses" are a staple in Babelite legends, the dark Eeee muses. He emits a soft sigh, ruffling the fur of Elise's cheek, as she leans into him. Ah … where was I? They often involve the "heroes" embarking on a long journey to win the favor of their preferred Goddess. Typically they ultimately come to some unpleasant end after many interesting escapades, and often after attaining their heart's desire. Perhaps the mages have re-created these tests, in the form of the paths you chose from. And Morpheus thinks you will do better on these paths than the traditional seeker. He completes the thought, then responds to her, No, I do not think that would be wise. If my ruse has worked as I hoped, the mages may not yet know that I seek to assist you. That will work to our advantage, I believe – I would not like to throw it away just yet.

Elise sighs softly for a moment. Her thoughts become cloudy and distracted before they reform and become more than just warm emotion. The concentration lapses again due to the actions of the Eeee beside her. Oh, hm. Yes, I definitely do not want our … alliance, to be jeopardized. Concern now. Succeed and I meet an unpleasant end, or fail and well, who knows? I assume it will not be pleasant either. Mmm, would you have any idea just what this test may be? Perhaps succeeding will at least allow me some leverage, a reward perhaps I can use in my favor.

The next half-turn is executed with at a languid, methodical pace; as he pulls her hands about in the dance's motion, the Eeee's thumbs trail along the fur of her collarbone and incidentally shifts the cowled neckline of her dress to expose the curve of one shoulder. (focus, indeed). When her hands are lifted over her head to complete the turn, the fabric drops back into place. An echo of regret reverberates briefly in Elise's mind. Ah … I am glad you feel as I do. No, failure is typically worse than success. And I believe you have already begun the testing. The game I played with your winged friend was one, I suspect. The Hall of Mirrors another. They will get harder from here, I think.

The regret is met with a feeling of wonder, and for it Elise picks up her dance step with energy brought on by interest. Then, I cannot help but wonder what this test might be. Given this is the land of the Goddess of Pleasure, I would assume some sort temptation revolving pleasure. But I cannot say I have the greatest grasp of what a Babelite goddess would tempt with. My major is not foreign religion.

A pause to review the situation followed by a glance around, and Elise continues. Perhaps I am supposed to become the belle of the ball. Or, should I resist it? I cannot tell if acceptance or resistance is what is needed. The goddesses always seemed so very dark to me. I have trouble grasping what they might find impressive.

I fear I am uncertain on that, as well. Wry amusement accompanies the thought. With Blakat, you'd know what to expect – some epic battles against terrible monsters, no doubt. But with Inala? I do not know. But I am sure success will not come without consequences. Perhaps you are already tasting your first reward, for you said that the vision you saw in the mirror was something you greatly desired. He dips his head to nuzzle Elise's cheek. (not the only one) He exerts the faintest of pressure against her chin, encouraging her to tilt her head back.

Unable to resist it, the cadet's smile widens again as she looks to her dancer partner. Her ears lower a little, and her tail twitches in a wag. (More than you know.) She lifts her head a little now as she fights to consider the situation more. Perhaps I should have chosen the battle over pleasure. I have had … more experience with the former than the latter. And you seem to have a point. I have gotten what I wanted. And again I have it here. Perhaps I will continue to be dazzled until at last the gifts I am given set to destroy me?

When she lifts her head, her nameless companion takes the opportunity to brush his jaw against the length of her exposed neck. (should've been Sylvanian) He releases Elise's left hand, freeing his own to wander up her side, fingers playing lightly against the exquisite silk. But … you were aware that you had lost something, as well, in what you gained. His hand snakes about the curve of her shoulder, to the back of her neck. She's pretty sure that this is not part of the established dance, although it does seem to blend well with the music. That realization is a good sign.

The stray thoughts, and hands, catch Elise's attention rather suddenly – the shock of which cannot be hidden, and thus is conveyed in full to the Eeee she dances with. Her ear twitches a little. That, that thought. 'Should have been Sylvanian?' I do not wish to pry into what you likely would rather hide from me, but I find that disturbing. 'Should have been?' Can you control your own forms? Her tail stops swinging now and she drops her eyes to peer down at the Eeee. She shivers faintly at the touch, a mixed blend of worry and pleasure leaks through the link. And, wha-what exactly are you doing? You may … you … may give us away?

The answering voice in her head resonates with gentle reassurance, a sharp contrast to Elise's own confusion. No, my dear, I've no control over my form. I'm an admirer of a lovely throat, that's all. Please do not be alarmed. I'm not going to give us away. Recollect that our ruse was that my spell was one of seduction? A whimsical smile plays briefly across his face. But I've distressed you. My apologies, dear lady. Sincere regret fills his tone as he straightens, his hand still cupping the back of her head.

A glance is cast across the Eeee's face, then his hands, before eyes roll and the woman sighs. Paranoia. A lie. Her distress definitely has no link to thoughts of being discovered. Rather they are directed more towards the the Mystic himself. I should not worry so much. Let me see. Tests, we have gone as far as I think we are able with that. I will just need to wait. Hmm, however I would like to know more about you. You are just as, if not more so, mysterious as the tests themselves. You mentioned you knew only one other Eeee of your power? Have you a name?

Do not apologize, Lady de Bellefeuille. You were entirely justified. I thought – well, obviously I was not thinking. The other mage of the sphere of mind? His name is Iendreis. As he drags his attention back to the previous subject, he muses, There's something else I wanted to tell you … ah, this was it. I think you may be able to undo what's been done to you. His voice whispers faintly into her mind. The Hall of Mirrors showed you many reflections, but you said that you saw none which matched with your vision of yourself. But that doesn't mean the Hall contains no such mirror. If you could find the one that reflects you, as you believe yourself to be, then it might restore you. His fingers slide against the nape of her neck for a moment, before he remembers where they are, and drops his hand back into position next to hers.

(If only the situation was better … ) Her smile reforms and she ceases to look anywhere but into the Mystic's eyes. Then indeed I may need to find my way back to that Hall of Mirrors. I suspect that geographic proximity is rather confused in this world, so I am uncertain as to how to get back. My best guess would be to depart this ballroom at midnight when New Year is over, and try and find my way back. Sadness, and a feeling of dread. ( … must I leave him again? … )

At the sadness in her eyes, the Mystic leans forward and brushes a kiss against her forehead. A wise plan, I'm sure. His regret mirrors her own sentiment. He glances towards the clock as the current dance winds down to a close. It's just a few minutes to the hour. Perhaps you could make time enough for one last dance?

Over the black-furred Eeee's shoulder, Elise can see Lios' larger frame approaching. The tall bat's face lights up when her eyes meet his, and his steps quicken. Farther back, a gray-furred female bat looks despondently after him.

Despite her concern over her growing feeling for the Eeee before her, Elise cannot help but lean towards the kiss and draw comfort from it. The emotion from this is quite impossible for her to hide now, as is the feeling she holds towards him – a feeling she cannot clearly identify even as it pulses like her heart. I do not wish to leave you. This she admits suddenly, a thought out of place from the others before it. Nor did I wish to leave you in the tent. If we must part again … Her eyes widen a bit as she notices Lios' approach. She frowns her concern at him before shaking her head. (No.) She then looks back to her current partner. … then let us cast aside our worries for this one dance. I do not want anything to ruin it.

"Lady de Bellefeuille?" Lios sweeps a low bow before the snowy canid, missing her expression of dismissal entirely. "I pray that you might take pity on a smitten Eeee, and see fit to dance with me once more?" He straightens, a bit nervously, and stands before Elise, filled with hopeful optimism. She imagines his tail would wag, if he had one.

(goddesses spare us) The Mystic cannot mask his disdain for the taller Eeee, although beneath it the poodle senses something else. Jealousy, perhaps? Please, make him go away.

Elise cannot simply ignore him. She finds that even if he is a figment, she cannot simply dismiss him rudely. He does seem like such a nice possible figment after all. Thus while swaying slowly back and forth with the Mystic the cadet opts to respond. "As much as I would like to, dear Lios, I cannot. You see, I simply could not leave this man here," she tells him. A bright smile is cast towards her partner. I will, but I cannot bring myself to do it rudely. I am not leaving you. She then looks back to Lios, and the woman behind him. "And I see you have left someone alone. As dazzled as you are by me, there is someone who seems to want your affection waiting for you where you left here. And I could never compete with that."

The brown Eeee looks stricken by her response. "I … I understand," he murmurs, crestfallen. "You are the very light of the world, dearest vision, and I hope you will not fault me for wanting to be the closest one to your radiance." He falls to one knee before her. "I know I am a cad for pursuing you, my love, and your disdain for me is only my just due. Please believe that I have not led Helene on, no more so than you misled me. I only treated her kindly, as you did me… "

The Mystic interrupts the other Eeee's monologue at this point, with a brusque, "Please! The lady has made her choice – will you kindly accept it and move on?" His jaw clenches, and he begins a low chant, the words gibberish to the people around him.

The sudden response from the Mystic causes quite a start in Elise. She recalls their previous encounter and what became of his mood swing and can only stare at him wide-eyed for a moment. After a few seconds, she questions him mentally. What … what are you doing? Please do not hurt him. Remember he is only a puppet of the enchantment here. Recall what happened the last time you lost your temper with me.

A green incandescence builds within the black bat's eyes, devouring the pupils, while Lios looks up in astonishment at his chanting. The Mystic glances from the brown bat to Elise. You are the worst influence on me, my lady. I've not lost my temper for in a year prior to meeting you, and now twice in one month. As he projects the words, affection behind them, he ceases the chanting, offhand.

The Mystic's hand is squeezed reassuringly. I will take that as a compliment. Another smile is given to The Mystic before Elise turns her head to smile in a polite way at Lios. "You must forgive my companion, he – "

Even as the chant dies, something clicks in Lios' mind. "You! You've cast a spell on her!" he shouts in outrage. He surges to his feet, and while the Mystic is still returning his attention to the taller man, Lios launches a punch at his jaw. The blow connects with a painful crunch, and half-spins the black-furred bat about with the force of the impact.

The punch comes as the cadet talks. Her jaw simply drops at the suddenness before she snaps out of it and whirls around to catch the Mystic before he falls. "How could you?!" she yells at Lios while doing so. "You … you brute! How could you hurt him?!"

The taller bat looms over both Elise and the mind-mage as the canid catches her companion. He looks a little surprised even at himself. "Lady de Bellefeuille … you must snap out of it! Don't you realize what he was doing to you? He was holding a spell when he approached you, and he's bewitched you with it, the scoundrel!"

"I have no idea what you are speaking of! And to think if he were, you would resort to striking him? While he was not even looking? Am I to expect you handle all situations with violence and street level trickery?" Elise promptly maneuvers so as to allow the Mystic to lean against her, even as she berates the other Eeee. Once she believes he will not fall, she quickly glances around for the nearest server. "Ice! Bring ice at once!" she yells before turning back to the Mystic. She squeezes him again. "Oh no, oh no … please, say you are not hurt too badly?"

The Mystic instinctively threw up a block in the link between himself and Elise, shielding her from feeling his pain as the blow landed. When she catches his crumpling body, words slip through again. My heroine, a wry mental smile accompanying the phrase. In a tone rich with irony, he continues, You'll recall I was afraid your subterfuge would prove too convincing. Ah. Ow. He lifts one hand to touch his jaw tenderly, a trickle of blood staining the fur from torn skin along his mouth. He eyes his attacker warily. I will be fine, my dear. Do not fear. A chuckle. To think you were worried about me hurting him! I merely intended to tell him to go away a bit more forcefully.

The larger bat looks cowed by Elise's rebuke. "But … but … I had to act quickly! I could not allow him time to cast another enchantment! How could I know what else he might plan to do?" he pleads with the poodle. A servant scurries across the floor, holding a glass filled with crushed ice, and hands it to the canid.

Lios bravely forages on despite the odds. "You must realize what he's done to you, Lady de Bellefeuille. He's entranced you, trying to make you love him so that he might have his way with you! Please, dear lady, you must resist it!"

Oh now, do not start referring to me that way too. I have had quite enough of being a heroine. Despite the continued waves of worry Elise shows the Mystic, she seems able to find a hint of amusement in his words and her own response. Perhaps you may wish to try your method now. I cannot deny your magic, lest I give us away. I must continue to react as if enchanted and I assure you there is only so far I can hold him off doing so. The ice is taken after Elise reaches over to rip a piece of the material from her dress. ( … still a better New Year … ) She dumps some of the ice in the length of silk before wrapping the fabric around it and using the newly created compress to soothe the Mystic's wound. "You embarrass me, Lios. To accuse me of falling for such a ruse as if I were helpless before him. You question my ability while you say you adore me?" She eyes Lios. (First Ones forgive me. I know he knows not what he does.)

A crowd is gathering around the three, whispering anxiously, and many distrustful glances are thrown at the Mystic. "He's right, he was holding a spell … What else could it be? … "

The Mystic takes the compress into his left hand to cradle it in place, wincing more at the sound of the tearing fabric than from his own pain. By the Sisters, I do not think I need magic to deal with this oaf!. He shifts, taking a few moments to struggle to an unaided standing position. "That's right, you moron," he says scathingly. "I cast a spell on her." He targets a vicious glare at his rival, and then continues. "To help her learn our dances!" he hisses in anger. "And you, you incompetent boor, would insist on drawing attention to it, humiliating the beautiful lady – not that her unfamiliarity is anything to be embarrassed by!" Even as he targets Lios with his wrath, he pats Elise's shoulder comfortingly.

Elise meanwhile looks up at the Mystic and watches him in his defense of himself, and her. A increasing amount of amusement emanates from her. Maybe I should refer to you as my hero, mm? Despite how she projects to the Mystic, outside she casts a completely opposite facade. Her head is soon dropped into her hands and her body shakes slightly as if she were sobbing. Muffled giggling does rather appear like muffled sobbing so long as one is not too vocal about it.

The members of the growing crowd nod in sudden understanding at this revelation, exchanging whispers about her sudden improvement in skill when she switched partners. Lios falls to his knees, ears flattened back against his head, insides glowing with the redness of his blush as he buries his face in his hands, mortified.

The Mystic encircles Elise with his arms, holding her in a consoling embrace and throwing a few more dagger-looks at Lios. I could almost feel sorry for the poor idiot, the mage thinks with distinct satisfaction. A mental sigh. The spell will fade in moments, my dear … I do not think even dancing now could hold it, and this fracas has dissuaded the orchestra from playing, damn it all. He lifts one hand to stroke the curve of Elise's cheek, as the bells of the great clock begin to chime.

I do feel sorry for him. I can understand full well the embarrassment of misplaced concern or attention. Joy replaces the fear, and worry steps in for amusement. I had a lovely dance. I … will see you again. On my word I promise I will see you again. But, before it all ends … please do not move? I just want to stand against you for a moment longer … Her hands have since dropped from her face and she turns around to wrap her arms around the Eeee. She holds him even as she lays her head on his shoulder. (Why must it end?)

I would that this evening had never ended, Elise. Warn your companions, especially the winged one. The shape-game she and I played was also one of forms, and she may find herself, as you, having gained more than she bargained for from the transformation. Pleasure answers her own as she cuddles close to him, and his slender fingers play against her jawline, tilting her face towards his. A kiss for the new year? he requests, as the chimes continue their joyous ringing.

For a few seconds Elise can only stare into the Mystic's eyes. Those eyes. The obscured emotion that Elise has been feeling for him, towards him, flares for this moment. If her adoration for the man were hidden before, it no longer remains so. She pulls herself to him a little more and smiles brightly. I could never say no. And with that, she leans in for the kiss.

He closes his eyes as he kisses her, letting his own delight and wonder in the contact reverberate back through the link, feeding and reinforcing her own feelings. He lingers on the sensation, without words until the final chime rings, then: As lovely as your form is to look upon, Elise, and even more delightful to embrace, remember this: it is the intimacy with your mind that I have treasured most about this evening. You are, indeed, the very light of the world. Though tinged with wryness, the sentiment is no less sincere for it.

The unbound joy flowing from Elise overshadows all other emotions she held, like corks bobbing in the ocean. Beyond this wave of shared bliss she can do nothing more than kiss the Eeee before her, and there is nothing in this world or the waking world that could cause her to do more than kiss and respond to his thoughts. You … I … I will remember. Oh … Say we will meet again? Promise me?

The final chime echoes through the hall. You have my word on it, Elise.

As the Mystic lifts away from Elise's head to gaze into her eyes, a sudden tremor shakes the ballroom floor, almost knocking the couple down. A few screams of alarm sound from panicky Eeees. What the – Giant fissures erupt in the floor and the walls, splitting the area into fragments, and people leap away, female bats struggling to fly in their too-cumbersome formal wear, males taking wing and abandoning them. Even Lios looks up from his stupefaction to blink in surprise.

Oh no! Terror too can be felt from Elise, but not for what may be happening, but because it is ruining the moment. It takes her a moment longer to register the sheer weight of the problem at hand and as she does so she clings to the Mystic. We must get back, and you … you should take to flight now before something happens!

Marble crumbles away like dust through gaping fissures that open onto nothingness, a black empty void that stirs and howls all around their feet. The black-furred Eeee attempts to cradle the poodle protectively, though what he is protecting her from isn't clear. Take flight to where? The voice comes through only faintly, as the connection linking their thoughts dissipates. The hungry void is visible through the walls and ceiling as well. A chandelier crashes to the ground near the pair, and then, frighteningly, begins to melt into it. The contours of everything start to run.

As desperately as Elise clings to The Mystic, so does she look around for an escape. "No!" she screams as she finds none, forgetting completely to think this. The utter terror of the situation is too much for her to think clearly through. She grabs him tighter now with all the strength this form can muster. Her thoughts come through, but only because she repeats them in her head in silent protest to what is happening. Please do not leave me! Do not take him away from me!

AGONY. A bolt of solid pain lashes into Elise's mind, and suddenly she cannot breathe, and her limbs go numb. She can see and hear nothing, only feeling a pressure within her like the death throes of thousands of people. It only lasts for an instant, and as she stands, trembling, in the aftershocks, she realizes that the sensation had not come from her, but from the Mystic … and that it had come across on the faded remnants of their mental link.

Elise's thoughts are silenced by the cry in her mind and the impossible pain that comes with it. … Never … Even as she recoils from the incredible pain, she repeats this one word within her head, holding it as her hope. Shaking violently, she forces herself to open her eyes and find the Mystic.

The mage is crouched on the floor, his position nearly fetal, body wracked with spasms of agony. All around, the people at the ball are screaming soundlessly, their bodies growing grotesquely distorted, like reflections in the fun house mirrors, melting or dissipating into smoke.

Immediately the cadet drops to her knees and wraps her arms around the man. She holds him to her while frantically trying to comfort him despite being near hysterical herself. "Oh First Ones, oh please, oh please no!"

The ballroom dissolves entirely, leaving the canid alone, clutching the mage, in a silently howling void. He lifts his head for an instant to reveal eyes filled by unholy anguish.

As the morning sun casts its light across the waking city of Rephidim, in an estate within the forests of the nobility, a poodle sits bolt upright in bed. Woken from both a dream and a nightmare she will never forget, her scream can be heard to echo through the halls of the de Bellefeuille manor. "Nooo!!" Her quiet sobbing follows.

Footsteps pound down the corridor, and the door to Elise's bedroom swings open. "By the First Ones, Elise!" Katherine rushes in, looking around wildly. "What is it? What's happened?" Seeing no attackers in the room, her sister (looking disheveled for one of the few times in her life), hurries to her elder sibling's bedside.

The distraught noblewoman looks to her sister with tear-filled eyes that seem to gaze forever past her. "Oh First Ones, oh no please, they took him away from me! They are hurting him!" She then focuses on her sister. "My Eeee, they took him away … oh First Ones, he is in pain and … I cannot do anything! But … I will find him!"

Katherine perches on the bedside and leans forward to smoothe her sister's brow. "There, there, Elise. It was only a dream. Nothing's happened, 'lise. Just a bad dream." She scoots forward to envelop her distraught relative in a hug, rocking her reassuringly. "There, there."

As her breathing begins to calm down, Elise drops her head against her sister and looks down upon her own hands. "No! No … He is real. So very real. And he needs me … I … must find him." Her hands tighten into fists and she squeezes her eyes closed for the moment. "We promised we would meet again. I said I would find him. I have to because … I … " Her eyes open now and she turns them to her sister. "I love him, Katherine."

Two days later, the news is borne to Rephidim. A renegade Rephidim captain dropped the Boomer onto the city of Babel. The Palace, the College Esoterica of Babel, and numerous other landmarks were annihilated on impact. The estimated dead number in the tens of thousands.