Re: &quote;...soon I know, I'll wake...&quote;

The funny thing about unconsciousness is that you tend to lose yourself. Where were you a moment ago? What were you supposed to be doing? There's the dull sensation that something was happening just now...but not it's not. How strange. Annabella would feel this sensation, and then feel the sensation of cool grass under her cheek, and a warm breeze against her face. Opening her eyes revealed an oddly colored sky, and a grassy hill shadowed by a single tree...

She sat up, slowly, blinking her eyes quite a few times before the focus returned. She shook her head, trying to clear what seemed like cobwebs from the corners of her mind. Deep azure eyes peered around, trying to discern something about where she was.

A figure stood beside the tree. Peering up into the branches. Or beyond the branches, into the cloud-laced sky. It almost looked like it was about to rain. Or it had just finished doing so. "Welcome, Miss Annabella," came the low, feminine voice from the figure, and she turned her head towards the elf's position, still shadowed by the leaves.


Dark brows furrowed, before she found herself looking up, taking her cue from the figure. Eyes narrowed just slightly, but not out of fear, or anger. She shifted, kneeling now, and tried to get a better look at the other occupant of this most odd place. "How d'ye know my name?"


"Strange, what questions you(all of you) ask first." The woman turned her head upwards again. It was as though there were two voices. Or more. Overlaid atop one another as she spoke. "Do you mean how did I first come across your name (titles are nothing)? Or why I chose to learn it (you know me)? The answers are (always) entirely different, I assure you (trust me)."


The long ears preened forward, as she stood, very slowly, watching the shadowed figure. It was almost as if she were hearing more than one voice...many voices, in fact, fitting together so well that some were just a whisper, and others were louder, more clear. Some seemed to echo softly in her mind, as if there was no need to vocalize at all. She paused, taking in the many queries, as well as those that underlay those. "All those. Why me?"

Irritation. Subtle. Though the face was hidden, now, the frown was evident before the words fell. "You came here, Miss Annabella (intruder, you do not belong). And now you add more questions (always questions) before receiving any answers (my answers, mine alone). I bid you welcome (welcome). He sleeps now (my love), so we may talk (share) for a short time (so brief...)." And it was then, at that hint of sadness, that the figure turned full on to face Annabella, and a shaft of moonlight drifted through the clouds and draped the figure much like the cloak she wore. "Now (quickly), ask your question (the real one)."


She heard the irritation on so many levels that it hardly seemed subtle to Anna. She also knew, on some level, that this....woman....was somehow part of Thomas. She feared that. Words tumbled from her lips before she realized what she was asking. "Who is Thomas? I...I want to know that more than anything...I think."


Irritation drifted away like seafoam, and the woman gestured to the hillock on which she stood, inviting Annabella to approach. Perhaps even sit. "I have many names (titles are nothing), but Thomas calls me Leuka. So may you (you may share this). Thomas (my love) has no other name (titles are meaningless). Even that which he claims was given to him by the Erdufu (the singers) because they had no other word for what he was."

Anna approached, listening intently to what Leuka was saying. Again, a few of the undertones of the conversation were beginning to irk her slightly, yet she held that well at bay, her curiosity getting the better of her. Brows raised subtly, her lips pursing slightly before she issued yet another question. "What.....is he?"

"Thomas (my love) is human." The simplicity of the statement was perhaps shocking, but the aura of amusement flowed from the woman like a breath of warm air. "He may be the first true human (there should be more). Or the last(there should be more). Or a throwback (there should be more). A fascinating one, we have talked long (so brief...) and of much. Do you feel better (soothed)?"

A brow quirked softly, as she shook her head gently in negation. She did not feel better. In fact, she felt a bit more alienated from him, precisely because she was so different from him. Brows lowered, giving her a slightly saddened look, as her ears drooped just a bit. "Nay. I feel....e'en less like him than afore."

"This is good (you are wise)." She nodded, turning her head and settling a gloved hand against the trunk of the tree, almost caressingly. "He (my love) is nothing like you. Just as he is nothing like me. Which is also good. He would not be Thomas if he were, yes?" Silence reigned for a long moment, and the tassles of the headress she wore waved gently in the soft breeze. "You feel I am a parasite (wicked bloodsuckers), draining Thomas (my love) out of spite (wicked hate) towards you?"

Her mouth had slid into a small smile at the comment about Thomas not being Thomas if he were different than he was...and it faded just as quickly as Leuka made light of something Anna knew she must have been feeling. She lowered her eyes slowly, before raising them back to Leuka. "Well...are ye? I didn't know what it was...but there's always been somethin.....else....there. Just beyond my graspin."

"I drain (no hate) Thomas (my love). And I am that which you have sensed but are unable to touch (I am beyond your reach). What will (can) you do, now that you know these (tiny) things, Annabella?" Her head turned again, eyes that matched the clouds above piercing through the elf-girl. "Would you (could you) fight (hate) me?"


Her mouth closed tightly, her own eyes trained on the woman....thing. Whatever she was, this last comment gave Anna pause. That which was raised as nobility said one thing, and that which was raised correctly said another entirely. "That depends on what we were fightin for. If'n it's what I think, then aye." She spoke simply, one voice, nothing more than that.

"Your competition (hate) is not me, child (so unwise). Put away your weapons (spite)." And her other gloved hand raised and pushed aside the blade that Annabella held pointed at her torso; a sword that Annabella might not have known she carried, nor realized she'd drawn. "You are quick (so hasty) to be offended (so soft)."


She blinked, dropping the sword that most definitely was not hers, eyeing Leuka steadily as she regained herself. "Tisn't competition that concerns me. Tis his well being. That's what matters." She sighed softly, looking at the tree slowly, wondering exactly why she was telling this stranger things she couldn't even tell Thomas himself.

"You (who could not see me) believe Thomas (my love) is unwell? (Perhaps you see more than you think.)" She leaned against the tree further, touching her cheek to the rough skin. "Tell me what you find unwell about Thomas (my love). Tell his parasite how he is sick."

She'd caught the "perhaps you see more..." comment under the last, and was fairly glowering as she thought of all the problems Thomas had been having. The blackouts, the lost time, the absolute disappearances. How was that not unwell? Her jaw was tight, as she recalled these things, before turning her gaze to Leuka, and the tree. Something was dawning on Anna as she stood contemplating both, but it was still a bit hazy. "O'course he's unwell. Unfortunately, I fear yer the problem. His sickness. But, what I fear e'en more is that without ye, he'd perish.

There was again a long moment of silence as Leuka watched Annabella wade through her own emotions. "You (who know medicine) have never heard of leeches used to cure ailments? You (who did not know what Thomas was) believe me to be the sickness, rather than the aid? I think you are hasty (bitter), and eager for his (my love) attention."

Her reply was quick, and truthful. She barely hesitated to reply, watching Leuka steadily. "Aye, and I've also heard tell of the thousands who die fer the greed of said leeches. Those things that feed off the weak, ne'er allowing them tae gain their own strength. And yer right. I am hasty. I love him. Tis all there is."

"No." She pushed away from the tree, approaching the elf-girl with eyes narrowed. "That (what you say) is not all there is (there is always more)." A gloved finger pointed against Annabella's collarbone, almost painfully. "You do not know Thomas (my love). Lose your (bitter) haste, child (so much time), and know him (my love). Think on your own words (deeply), and know him (my love). He is so weak (so soft). Good bye (you are not welcome)."

She ignored the pain, and the underlaying tones in Leuka's voice for a moment, meeting her eyes. "I'm tryin tae get tae know him. I've been tryin all along. Perhaps he's stronger than ye realize. Perhaps he doesn't need tae lean on ye any longer, as you lean on this tree...." She leaned around the woman, touching the tree softly that moments before Leuka was fairly rubbing herself against.

Rough bark, warmed by the breeze, and as though it had been in sunlight all day. Oak, or a similar hardwood, there was disturbingly nothing unusual about it. But being as she now was at the peak of the small hill, Annabella was allowed the disturbing view beyond the circular gnoll. There was nothing. The grass stood contrasted against clouds that flowed beneath where she stood as easily as above the branches of the tree. "(You are not welcome) Good bye," Leuka repeated, and almost casually pushed Annabella . The tree slid by. The grass slid by. One stumbling misstep, and the tree, the hill, and the woman, rushed upwards away from the tumbling elf...

That tree was something, despite it's almost too casual feel and appearance. And then, she felt as if she were falling. She made no noise, however, closing her eyes as she fell away from the tree, and the woman.