2020-02-12 - His Mother's Grimoire
Tobin finds himself unexpectedly in a meadow, a spell book in hand as he thinks about his mother.
IC Date: 2020-02-12
OOC Date: 2019-10-03
Location: Dream
Related Scenes: None
Plot: None
Scene Number: 3930
It's so peaceful here. And warm. No hint of the wintry weather of Gray Harbor. The sun shines overhead, a warm breeze rustling the grass of the wide meadow which stretches out in nearly every direction. To one side, a path runs beside a stream, near which a majestic unicorn grazes peacefully. All is right with the world.
If only this were the right world. The dreamers weren't here a moment ago, snatched from their lives and dropped down in this placid perfection, for weal or for woe.
Tobin had been standing in the back door of the house watching Mason nose around in the garden instead of doing his business like he was supposed to. He'd had a cup of coffee in his hand and had been drinking it slowly, lost in thought. He'd just set the mug down on the counter inside and was going to head out to the garden himself, but when he started walking he found himself in a field, instead, with the pup nowhere to be seen. And there's a unicorn.
He lets the warmth soak in, first, taking in a deep breath and then letting it out again. He slides his hands into his pockets and begins to walk, following the edge of the stream as he moves along its bank. He watches the unicorn with a kind of idle fascination, but gives it a wide berth, not seeming to want to disturb the animal, just take in its beauty. His thoughts, as they always do when he finds himself dreaming, turn toward his mother. He hoped if she were lost in the Veil, that it was someplace like this.
The unicorn looks up as Tobin passes by, a humility in the gentle way in which it regards the human. It seems pleased to see him, a contented chuff issued in greeting. The world seems a little more magical for the presence of the mythical beast, but it bounds away lightly to continue about its day.
As Tobin's thoughts turn toward his mother, he finds his hands are no longer in his pockets, but are, instead, occupied. In one hand, he holds a large pouch. In the other, a book bound in white animal hide, an inscription on the front bearing his mother's name, describing the book as her personal grimoire. An odd memory itches at the back of his thoughts, a vague recollection of her casting some spell on him.
In the distance, along the path, there is a door behind which he's certain there's a trap. Death awaits. Or would have, once. It's hard to imagine anything dying here.
Tobin inclines his head toward the unicorn respectfully, a smile playing about his lips, taking in the beautiful creature. There's something peaceful and awe-inspiring in being able to take it in, even for that brief period of time before it bounds away. Once left alone with his own thought he is surprised to find the pouch in one hand, and the book in the other. His mother's book? He tucks the pouch under one arm and then carefully opens the grimoire, examining the pages, flipping through it from front to back and trying to get a feel for what it contains, what sort of spells. Can he find the one that she cast on him? The door looms in the distance, but for the moment, his focus is on the book.
The door can wait. As can the meadow, the stream, the... crate where the unicorn had been? Weird, but sure. That's waiting too.
As Tobin flips through the spellbook, one spell in particular stands out, a frontispiece at the beginning of a new chapter reading: MAGIC WORD MILKY GREEN.
Tobin studies that word on the page and his brow furrows a little bit in thought, considering it. Then he takes a moment to open up the pouch and look at what is inside, examining the contents carefully. He notices the crate where the unicorn had once been and he begins to move slowly in that direction, studying it as he approaches.
The pouch proves surprisingly tricky to open, unresponsive to manual manipulation. However, as Tobin studies it, he finds writing upon its fabric which, upon reading, allow the pouch to be opened to reveal a quantity of almost certainly magical dust therein.
The crate, which had seemed so normal from where he was standing, grows larger as he approaches. Almost certainly too large to pick up. Entirely inconvenient for carrying through canyons. Not that there are any canyons in view.
Tobin considers the pouch and the book as well as the crate, and then does what seems natural in this particular situation. He takes some dust from the pouch and blows it onto the crate while intoning the words "Milky Green" in his most official spell-casting tone. He has no idea what an official spell-casting tone sounds like, but what the hell, right?
The dust shimmers as it hits the wood of the very large cate, but the magic seems to have little effect until the magic words are spoken. An appropriately milky green shimmer dances upon the surface of the otherwise featureless box as a voice chimes out, "DO YOU NEED HELP GETTING OUT OF HERE?"
Tobin smiles curiously as the milky green shimmer dances across the box, not sure that it achieved anything, but satisfied with the result none-the-less. He closes up the pouch and tucks it back under his arm. The book is clutched against his chest. When the voice chimes out though, he blinks a little in surprise. "Uh, yes, I suppose I do, thank you."
"Okay, right!" answers the disembodied voice which either is or is inside the crate. "You get the idea. Say 'YES' to all the questions." This advice might be more helpful if there were any questions forthcoming to say yes to, but the shimmering box falls quiet then, advice dispensed.
"Alrighty then," Tobin laughs just a little bit at the advice given, bemused but undaunted. He gives a little pat to the box. "Thanks," he says, and then continues on down the path toward the door that leads to the trap, heading over to get a closer look at it.
The crate crumbles and collapses at that pat, at the word of thanks from Tobin. It issues an overly dramatic death rattle as it leaves behind only that milky green shimmer which forms into words, declaring, "DRAGON VANQUISHER!" in a broad arch with the word "UNBELIEVABLE!" below it. The dreamer gets an eerie sense that his score has significantly increased.
The door itself, aside from being a free-standing fixture along the edge of a pleasant meadow, appears otherwise unassuming. It's unlocked.
Tobin blinks in startled surprise as the crate collapses and he seems to get credit for vanquishing a dragon. For a moment he just stands there and stares at the milky green shimmer, then shakes his head slowly and moves on toward the door. Consider the door for a moment, Tobin takes a bit more dust out of the pouch and blows it on the door and says, "Translucent Blue" for shits and giggles, curious what might happen.
The dust hits the door with a pale blue shimmer and what had been wood turns translucent, like colored glass. Though Tobin can clearly see around to the other side of the door should he just tilt to one side, nothing but grass and wildflowers visible behind it, when he looks through the door he can see a wide passage and... is that the unicorn from before at the other end? This time, when the mythical beast huffs a sound, it seems displeased, its fine tail swishing with irritation as it turns away to continue cropping its grass in peace.
Tobin ponders what he sees through the door and then backs away from it, not feeling inclined to annoy an animal that can stab you with its head. Spinning in place, he turns back the way that he came and follows the stream in the opposite direction, back past where the box was before, and then on from there, idly strolling through the field. For the moment, he remains calm, though the idle thought does cross his mind -- is this how it started for his mother? Did she just start wandering, and never came back? He opens up the book again, looking through the pages toward the back, trying to see what might be at the end.
All that's left of the crate and the dragon-vanguishing announcement is the faint shimmer of magical dust upon the grass beside the stream, a fading vestige of an unbelievable--and unexplained--achievement. As Tobin follows the stream, shapes and structures begin to loom in the distance, lending the suggestion that this is not simply some pleasantly babbling brook, but perhaps a proper moat circling a settlement or a castle of some sort. A stallion stands upon the other side, a hoof stomping on the ground as he comes to a stop, snorting wildly as if sensing something ominous.
Perhaps the horse knew what Tobin would find at the back of the grimoire, a near-blinding flash emitting from the book as he flips to the final page, the whole tome beginning to glow.
Tobin walks along the stream toward the structures and shapes, studying them as they come into view with curiosity. It's then that he notices the stallion and moves to cross the brook toward the stallion, stopping when suddenly the horse snorts wildly. He stares down at the book in his hands as the whole thing begins to glow. He debates for a moment whether to slam it shut or leave it open. He leaves it open, watching as it glows, to see what might happen next.
As Tobin watches the book, the glow begins to dim just enough that he can read a single word upon the page and understand its complex relation to the universe. GNUSTO. The spell is readily committed to memory. Behind him, back up the way he came--where meadow has, instead, condensed into a lovely garden--the unicorn appears to have been following. No longer annoyed, it seems instead to be beginning him, ready to take the grimoire off his hands.
Tobin turns when he notices that the unicorn has been following him, glancing up from taking in that word, and the spell that it entails. Part of him wants to hold onto the book. If it was indeed, his mother's, he was loathe to give it up. But at the same time, the power of the unicorn compels him. So he walks toward the garden and approaches the creature, holding the grimoire out to it. "Thank you for letting me see it," he says and sets it down in front of the beast. "If you happen to see the woman who wrote it, tell her that Tobin misses her." Then he takes a step back.
The unicorn answers in a voice more understood than heard, "Twice, you have run out of ideas." Still, when the spell book is offered over, it accepts the gift courteously. And then vanishes as if it had never been there at all, sticken not only from the garden but from Tobin's memory as well.
The dreamer finds himself in a garden with what might be a moat--or a stream--nearby, a single word of power in his head among thoughts of his mother and no particular direction to go.
Tobin looks a little puzzled by that response, but there's nothing to do since the book is gone. He takes in a deep breath and then decides to explore the garden some, wandering among the plants, looking to see if there is anything else of interest within. For now, he lingers, and contemplates that word of power.
The garden proves strange and lovely, full of flowers and herbs which aren't quite right, itching at familiarity without quite matching memory. Planters and pots depict alien landscapes and odd geometry, and when Tobin lifts one of the lids to a particularly tall pot, he finds a gold coffin therein, half-buried in soil. He needn't open the casket's lid to know an exquisite jade figurine lays inside, at rest; his understanding of GNUSTO tells him as much.
He meanders through the garden for a while, taking some time to appreciate the various flora in all its not-quite-right alien beauty. It's a little unsettling, but then, it was through a garden he had been walking before he ended up here, and there's something familiar in it as well. When he comes upon the pot with its strange half-buried artificat, he reaches into the pot and opens the coffin, taking the statue out from within. He then takes another handful of that dust from the pouch and blows it over the statue and uses that single word, "GNUSTO."
When Tobin blows that magical dust upon the figurine, the figurine blows back, the dust sprinkling itself upon the dreamer as he speaks the word, "GNUSTO." Above his head, a two-sided mirror apears, offering a unique view of the garden, including a reflection of a patch of dandelions otherwise invisible to the naked eye.
Tobin sneezes, vehemently, dust sprinkling in his face. He sets the figurine down and then looks up into that mirror, using it to navigate to where the dandelions would be if he could see them. Still watching the mirror, he reaches down to pick one, not sure if he'll find one there or if it is purely an illusion.
The dandelions rustle gently at Tobin's sneeze, well-before he notices their reflection. It's not difficult to track the patch of golden flowers with use of the mirror, though it is remarkably strange feeling at the empty air to find... something, to get his fingers around an invisible stem and pluck the weed up, seen only in the reflection no matter how solid it is in his fingers.
Tobin plucks up the strange dandelion that he can feel but not see, and grins a little bit curiously at it. He lifts it to his nose, watching the reflection, and breathes in the scent to see if he can smell it even if he can't see it. He can feel it. He knows it's there, even if it's not. And something about that strikes him as a little profound. It draws a broader smile to his lips. Then, he wanders out of the garden once more.
The dandelion doesn't smell as one might expect, not at all like the soft plant it seems to be between his fingers. It smells like stone, as if it were delicately carved. It sounds like a yawn. It probably shouldn't sound like anything, but it does seem to yawn with a certain weight, a sleepiness sinking into Tobin's shoulders. He might not even notice how very tired he is until he starts awake, right where he'd been, the world wholly familiar again. He can still smell that yawn, the strange perfumes of the unfamiliar flowers. He can almost remember a world-changing word that his mouth can't quite shape right anyore.
Tags: gpt2