Written Wonderland

Jaz was all tangled up with several of the others--fire and smoke, skin and blood, heat and the crash of cold any time one of them moved just a little too much--when it hit her.

This isn't enough.

The thought was strong and potent, and the others curled up around and inside her responded almost immediately, their tangled limbs and other unnamable appendages retracting in something that tasted like fear and confusion. Finally, they were individuals again, seated together on a large dais in the middle of the large bedroom they shared. Jaz looked from one to another, familiar forms and shapes now that they had retracted back into themselves, smooth, true-blue faces and limbs shifting back toward arms and hands, legs and feet. Their long, cascading black hair looked too much the same from one to the next as she stared at them, taking these members of her clan in as though it might be the last time.

Will it?

"What's wrong, lover?" Tenaya asked her, her eyebrows now firmly in place such that the furrow commonly present between them deepened. Jaz shook her head. She wasn't sure she understood it.

There was a long silence, and the others exchanged glances. Jaz thought she knew what might be coming, but she couldn't bear to even think it coherently, let alone say it out loud.

Tigre smoothed a hand down his long goatee, resting it where the goatee was tied neatly before it touched his chest. "I think it might be her time. The sorala has begun."

All their eyes widened.

"So soon?" Suldana asked, looking over Jaz's nude body and making her shiver.

"Others have been younger," Tigre said, "Jazmine has seen over 300 full moons. That's old enough."

Tenaya, the youngest, shook her head, and her hand flew to her chest. "But, they don't always come back."

"Once the wanderlust begins, it's impossible to stop it. If we don't let her go, she will leave anyway. At least this way we can prepare her and give her what she needs to find us again. Just as we will do for you, sweet one," Suldana said.

Tenaya turned her head away, but Jaz could see her eyes were filled with tears.

"I didn't expect it to happen so suddenly," Jaz said, lowering her head.

"You know what you must do. The new moon approaches," Tigre said, and Jaz nodded, leaving the room.

----

Prepared with the symbols of her people, the blessings of the elders, payment for the fae, and directions, Jaz set out from the mountain only a day and a half later under cover of the new moon. Once the sorala had begun, no one from her clan would touch her. They knew all they would find there was emptiness and hunger, and Jaz couldn't remember the last time she had gone that long without the comfort of a lover. What was wrong with them that they all felt this hungering need to leave? Jaz had watched so many of her people go, and only about half of them returned. It was impossible to know why the number was so few. What awaited her on the other side of the fae gates, and how would she find her way back?

You will feel when we are close. Listen with your body and your heart always. Know us as you know yourself, one of the elders had said.

Jaz picked over the stones down the mountain path, and the night-blooming flowers--purple and blue with hazy yellow pollen erupting in light puffs with the wind--glowed around her even though there was no moon. She wondered if they were hungry the way she was.

Already her skin had begun to fade from its typical effervescent blue to a sickly beige, splotchy in places. She knew she would lose the blue altogether soon, and then how much of a stranger would she feel in her own skin?

The goddess does care, and she has given us a home. You will remember the mountains. Jaz could not help but play over the words of the elders when they had sent her off, her lovers watching distantly from inside the village. Jaz had not waved to them but had simply turned her back, unable to speak or move except to put one foot in front of another until everything she called home was out of sight. She felt far too heavy to float.

When she reached the forest and its lush purple and black trees, Jaz remembered the directions the elders had given her. Over and over again, Jaz told herself that they had an arrangement with the fae. The fae promised to let them travel on the night of the new moon. The dark fae knew of the sorala practice and respected it... enough. But she had been taught to avoid the dark fae and any other creatures outside the clan. They were tainted, the elders said. But how to keep away from them now with no one else around her? Jaz wondered. I can't, she reasoned, I must accept the help and guidance I can find.

Jaz arrived at the fae gate, this iteration of it at least, just before the moon had left the sky. At first, it seemed unattended, but Jaz knew better than to trust what she could see. To an untrained eye, it was nothing, a shimmer in the air, but when Jaz approached the edge and touched it, silver veins grew up out of the ground and entwined with each other, connecting in an archway that surrounded the shimmer. Jaz let out a heavy sigh. There was no telling what lay on the other side of the gate.

"It's been a long time since one of your kind came down here," a short man with floppy hair and ashen skin said. He was probably half her height, and by djinn standards, Jaz was only slightly taller than average. She fought the urge to jump and instead tensed her muscles as she caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye. "You look ill, lady," he added unhelpfully.

Jaz set her jaw and handed over the carved stone the elders had given her. "We have a deal with your people. On the new moons, you let us pass. This is for your kindness," Jaz said.

"Off to another world so soon?" the creature said, and Jaz fought the urge to pull back as he approached her. She still held the stone in her hand, but her arm trembled as he ignored it and stepped closer to her. "Nothing about your sorala says you have to leave immediately." Jaz looked up at the moon reflexively, her nerves making her want to fidget. "And your kind need touch to survive, don't you?" He was inches away from her face now, and she did pull back this time.

Suddenly, his wings, tattered things that might once have sparkled, snapped open, and his face became all teeth, gnashing her direction. She did scream then, briefly, and took a few paces back, pulling herself down into a tight ball like she had sometimes done when she needed touch and no one was around.

"Don't touch me," Jaz said, even though the phrase alone broke her heart a little. "Don't touch me. In the name of the djinn, don't touch me. We have an agreement."

With a smug expression, the dark fae tucked his wings and stepped back from her. "The gate is constantly in flux, you know. Treat me well, and I might give you information about some of the more pleasant places to go."

The thought of curling her body around this creature sickened her, but she was also terrified of what lay beyond the goddess' realm. The stories the elder djinn offered were often uncomfortable, at best.

Finally making up her mind, Jaz straightened to her full height and shook her head. "I will go where the gate wants to take me without your intervention, thank you." With that, Jaz dropped the stone at the dark fae's feet and walked toward the gate, touching the shimmer lightly with one hand. She tried very hard not to notice the anger on the dark fae's face out of her periphery, and finally closed her eyes. If the dark fae were to touch her, the contract with her people would be void. Jaz decided to trust that and let the cool, soft, fabric-like shimmer caress her hand.

Please take me somewhere beautiful, Jaz prayed to the gate. And always leave a door open for me to come home.

She opened her eyes, gave the dark fae one last glance to see if he was going to stop her, and walked through the gate.

----

The first thing Jaz felt was the cold. Though the mountains rarely got warm, this cold felt strange, foreign, unfamiliar. And the trees around her, in the dim dawn light, were brown and green, not purple and black. Her shift, fleeced with feradon fur and feathers, hardly kept out the sharpness of the wind. Jaz quickly sank to her feet, the spinning discomfort of the travel through the gate getting to her in this strange place. She tried to manifest a small flame in her hands, and though she felt a slight spark, nothing ignited. Magic is dampened in this land, Jaz reasoned and tried not to despair. Magic was a sacred friend, and without it and her clan both, she had little of what she had called her home, her identity, her life.

Only this chilled, paled body left that maybe could not even shift into smoke anymore. She wasn't willing to try.

She walked aimlessly, head on a swivel, as she tucked herself behind one tree and then another, uncertain what she might find lurking in dawn's early shadows.

And then there was a house. A small cottage, maybe only fit for one or two creatures. The construction was of wood, probably from the surrounding trees, and denoted some intelligence from whatever lived within. She sensed life in there, dimly, and grew curious. She did need shelter, and it was best for her to know what she was up against here, wasn't it?

With a look around to make certain that there wasn't anyone else to watch her, she crawled out from the trees and approached the cottage, taking special note of the care the owner had taken with the surrounding land.

((OOC: I guess, if Ren would like the cottage, he may have it. It would be helpful for him to describe what the outside looks like and also where he is in the house (if he's even there) )).

Ren awoke from a fitful slumber as he had too often in recent days. The dreams were elusive, leaving him the instant he'd slipped back into wakefulness from their grasp. It felt nostalgic in the worst way, but that didn't make much sense.

Even in his solitude, there was no point in dwelling, though. With a sigh, he heaved himself out of bed to begin his day, dressing and gathering what he'd need while he was out and about on his morning routine.

Then all at once the door rattled--would have opened, if he didn't have it bolted. Ren's hand went immediately to the knife on his belt, his heart pounding in his ears. It was far too early in the morning for anyone to have trekked out to him from anywhere sensible. Maybe it was a bold animal, but--no, the doornob had turned, not something that any old bear had been known to do.

"Who's there?" He asked sharply, and went ahead and drew his blade just in case, though concern tugged at his chest just as strongly as paranoia. Whoever was out there was probably cold, maybe even dangerously so, or at the very least exhausted from their journey. Still, he wasn't about to open the door until he knew more.

Flowers unfamiliar to Jaz danced lazily in the breeze of the clearing where she had first spotted the cottage. Their yellow, pom-like textures dazzled her, and she reached out a tentative finger to one of them, giggling a little as she pulled her hand away with a small amount of pollen on the tip.

Strange, all of them, strange. But they made her happy.

She kept her wits about her, listening closely for any rustle to indicate that she had been spotted, but that did not stop her from taking a closer look at each of the plants in the gently pulled-back wilderness in front of the cottage. A flying insect of some kind buzzed and flew by her head, and she instinctively ducked down into the long grass, unsure if it might be an attack. After a moment, though, she decided it had been harmless or at least not intended for her and continued making her slow, curious way closer to the cottage.

The building itself looked sturdy, even if the design was unlike the rounded domes of the djinn houses. It was stout and not hastily constructed, practical but not without its elegance.

Jaz started toward one of the windows, crawling quietly beneath it and collecting her garments about herself for a moment before she felt brave enough to peek inside. It was dark in there, and she couldn’t make out much of anything. Maybe a few objects—bowls and spoons, a mug—but it all looked… lonely. Maybe she had been wrong and whoever had been living here had recently left.

Ducking back under the window sill, Jaz sat down against the outer wall, watching the sun as it steadily crested the forested horizon. Yellow sun, not purple, and far too bright to look at once it was in its full glory, lest Jaz get forced into smoke. That didn’t seem like a good idea. Not here. Not now.

She started to feel an emptiness in her stomach, a hollowness not unlike the nagging touch starvation she expected would dog her for a long while. Hunger, she thought. The elders spoke of the need to eat more than smoke and touch and flame when they told stories of their soralas. They spoke of exotic spices and tastes they could not possibly describe or replicate. Except, of course, with touch. But, Jaz suspected, experiencing food firsthand would be different than experiencing another’s memory. Eating didn’t sound especially pleasant, putting something inanimate—or dead—in her mouth, but maybe that was still just the effect of having travelled through the fae gate.

Regardless, Jaz needed something to go on about this whole place. And she was cold, even with the sun now above the trees.

Finally, she crawled out from under the window and walked up the two steps to the door where she immediately tried the knob. It jostled but didn’t open, so she tried again, a little harder this time. Was it stuck? She was considering the wisdom of trying to force the door open when she heard a voice call out.

“Who’s there?” It was a gruff, sharp voice, and Jaz tried very hard not to compare it to the voice of the dark fae who only just let her go. But, when her mind inevitably did, she was grateful to find it less graveled and decidedly more scared once it had fully settled in her ears.

Afraid of her? If this creature was afraid of her, what else was out here? She quickly looked around herself but saw nothing that spoke of immediate danger.

Ah, but… there was also a question to answer. And how to explain what—or who—she was? Did anyone in this new realm even know of the djinn?

“J-Jaz?” she said, not at all positive that she could attest to more about her identity than her own name at the moment. But, realizing that was not at all what the creature really wanted to know, she added, “I think I might be lost.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but hopefully it put whoever was inside at ease enough to give her a chance and maybe even let her in. She looked around at the well-lit meadow nervously again, unsure what to be afraid of but imagining danger at every turn. The insects, maybe? The plants? She looked down at her skin, now entirely sickly beige, but saw no rashes or bumps. Gently, she pressed herself to the door and intuitively imagined Soldana’s warm flesh against hers while she waited for whatever would happen next.

“J-Jaz? ...I think I might be lost.”

The voice that answered Ren's bark was light and uncertain, perhaps aware of her nonsensicalness and begging for understanding. It tugged gently at the concern in his chest, but he tensed cautiously around it - he'd seen that particular thread tugged wholly strategically, and it was a ruse he was especially wary of.

But, then again, why bother with such a ruse here? He'd quite purposefully sought out this place, where the forest provided plenty, and the people who were nearby led simple, transparent lives. The politics of the city were years behind him now, surely content to leave him be.

Still, his recent restless nights had him particularly on edge.

With a sigh, Ren let his hands relax by his side, though he didn't put his knife away. He stepped up to the door with his body tilted, hiding the knife as his off-hand pulled the door bolt aside, and then cracked the door open to peek outside.

He was surprised to see the woman pressed against the door, almost sensually. He regarded her with skepticism, keeping his grip on the door firm and prepared to slam it shut if she tried anything funny.

"Where are you trying to find, exactly?"

Several long seconds went by as Jaz's imagination got the better of her such that she was jolted with surprise when the door opened, though only a fraction. She hit her head against it as it stopped and winced. With one half-gloved hand, she reached up and rubbed at the small injury before relaxing her hand and trying to get a look at the creature behind the door.

It was still dark inside, and she could not see much. The creature appeared djinn-like in shape, arms and legs seemed accounted for. He had long brown hair that hung below his shoulders. She thought he was taller than her, but the stairs made that difficult to estimate.

She smiled a little, trying to make a good impression.

"Where are you trying to find, exactly?" He asked her, and she looked down at the ground, searching for any answer she felt comfortable giving.

"Do you have a map? I might be able to point it out on a map." Jaz had no idea if that was true, but at least it would give her some idea of where she was, what the area was called, and what sorts of landscapes she needed to prepare for.

"Do you have a map? I might be able to point it out on a map."

Ren's eyes narrowed suspiciously. Nothing about this made sense. He was quiet for a long moment, taking in the sight of the woman. She had long black hair, tousled as he might expect from a long journey. Her clothing, he realized, looked strange - it seemed to have both fur and feathers, which he had never seen before. Just how far had this woman travelled? And, alone? He glanced out into the meadow, eyeing the treeline for any signs of ambush, but the morning seemed still as ever.

With another sigh, Ren pulled the door back just enough for the woman to fit through, nodding for her to come inside. There was little else he could truly discern with her standing awkwardly on his stoop. If she meant to attack him, at least they'd get it over with.

"I can draw you a map to a nearby village. Or, maybe if you can tell me more about what you're looking for, I might be able to at least send you in the right direction."

The person at the door narrowed his eyes at her, and Jaz wondered if she had said something wrong. Asking for a map was innocuous enough, wasn't it? He seemed to look her up and down, staring at her clothing, and she took a moment to look at what she could see of his. Lighter than hers and more constricting. Formed better to his body, she supposed. He seemed muscular, maybe from the work of living out here.

Finally, after a long tense moment, he opened the door slightly more and nodded toward the inside of the house. Did that mean to come in? It certainly seemed like it. Happiness skyrocketed through her stomach as she sidled around the door, grateful not to be outside with whatever he was afraid of.

In closer proximity, Jaz's breath caught in her throat a little, and she stared with parted-lip hunger at the man's wrists, hands, and neck--all his exposed skin. He was light-skinned, and she wondered if he was sick, too, like she was. But when she closed her eyes and reached for familiarity within him, she found nothing. With a sigh, she opened her eyes, a magnetic pull still compelling her to touch him. She managed to refrain, only swaying slightly.

"I can draw you a map to a nearby village," he said, which helped her focus on something else. "Or, maybe, if you can tell me what you're looking for, I might be able to at least send you in the right direction."

Adventure. Adventure on my way back home, she wanted to say. Or perhaps, You. I'm looking for you. May I touch you? But, she suspected both of those would only make this person more uncomfortable. And he seemed to want to send her on her way as soon as possible.

"A map to a nearby village would help," Jaz said, trying not to let her despair fall onto her face, "I've been exiled from mine."

Ren watched the woman warily as she stepped inside. She seemed grateful first and foremost, and as he closed the door he finally decided to relinquish his knife from his hand back into its holster on his belt - it'd still be nearby if he did end up needing it. He could feel the woman's gaze on him, too, as he moved past her to dig out some paper. It made him a little uncomfortable, but tried to pay it no mind. After all, it was only fair for her to size him up, as well.

"A map to a nearby village would help," she finally said. "I've been exiled from mine."

Ren eyed her with surprise, wariness and compassion swirling ever stronger together in his chest. He wanted to ask why, but instead he averted his gaze quickly, recognizing that was likely a touchy subject. Instead, he turned his attention to where he set the paper down on a small table, next to the pack he'd just finished loading when the woman - Jaz, he supposed? - had rattled his door.

"Do you always try to enter strange places without knocking?" He was torn on whether he was scolding or teasing or just plain curious, and as such, his tone came out pretty flatly. It probably didn't help that his gaze was down on the paper, where he began to draw some simple representations of landmarks she should follow.

Jaz watched as the person gathered some paper and writing supplies and was fascinated by the shapes he drew on the blank space. She liked watching his hands move with the pen and ink--she was mesmerized.

He seemed to soften a little at her admission, and she was grateful that she had gotten through at least one level of his guard. Perhaps she could afford to tell him more? What would he do to her if he knew what she was?

"Do you always try to enter strange places without knocking?" the person asked without looking at her. She blinked a few times as she tried to understand, the living nature of language filling in holes where her own understanding was as the vibrations touched her ears. Knocking? Was she supposed to knock? Was that a tradition of some kind here?

"The land around here is... beautiful. Very lush," she said in explanation. "I didn't know to be afraid." Taking a small risk, she asked, "Why do you need to keep your door closed?"

"The land around here is... beautiful. Very lush," the woman replied as though that were an explanation. "I didn't know to be afraid."

Ren couldn't help eyeing her again, perhaps just looking at her expression to see if she was pulling his leg. Then, she got so bold as to ask her own question.

"Why do you need to keep your door closed?"

Ren frowned, entirely unsure what to make of this. She didn't seem to be joking. Could she really have come from a place where it was normal to try to enter a stranger's home uninvited? He returned his attention to his map, chewing on whether he wanted to answer her question earnestly or demand a little bit more. He felt uneasy not understanding so much about her - and she was in his home, and even the village he was sending her toward were in many ways his people. Even if she wasn't outright hostile, there was something unnerving about her, which he realized he was hesitant to set loose. Finally, Ren turned to fully face her and straightened, his fingertips pressing the paper against the table as though protecting the map from being snatched away.

"So strangers don't wander in unannounced," he replied tersely, his frown deepening while he debated still how he wanted to handle this. The ways in which she didn't add up were a bit nebulous, and proved difficult to simply call out.

"You know you're out of place here," he finally stated. "And you have no idea how to blend in. You'd do well to be forthcoming; as things stand, you come off suspicious as hell."