xinoehp512

"Doesn't matter," mumbled Silver, glancing at the floor. "Don't worry about it."

Silver stopped. "Oh. But... I..." He sighed. "Never mind."

The man blinked. "Uh, okay." He hurried after them. "Er, where are we going?"

"No," said the guard tersely.

"No." The man gave a short, sad laugh. "Isn't that funny? Anyways." He shut the door, blocking more cold air from seeping into the corridor. "I think I saw a fireplace this way." He gestured down the hall. Obsidian frowned again. "I could eat you and then apples."

Obsidian frowned. The goo halted. "Salt... tastes better?" "Oh!" the man said, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Name! That's right. Um." He thought for a moment. "How about Silver? Does that sound right?"

The man's silver eyes grew distant. "I think I heard of that place... once." He looked around. "Could it be...?" He shook his head, clearing away the vestiges of memory, and extended a hand to help Cufren get to his feet. "Can we close the door? It seems like kind of a bad idea to let more cold air in, considering..."

"Oh. Alright." The man shuffled his feet. "Um... do you know where we are?"

"Ah!" the man cried, panicked. "Uh... are you alright? Do you need help?"

A man in a silver shirt cleared his throat. "Uh... hi!"

There was the sound of footsteps approaching down the hallway. A pair of boots- rubber, shiny, sterile- came into Ilvaite's view. "Now," said a man's voice. "What are you doing out here?" Ilvaite felt a chill run through her. Slowly, hardly daring to breathe, she raised her eyes to the man's face. Her heart didn't stop. She didn't have a heart. She was dead, after all. "You're not where you're supposed to be, are you?" continued the man. He extended a hand. "Come on. Let's get you back where you belong." She couldn't move. She needed to run, to flee, to get away from the white lab coat and black rubber boots. Escape the test tubes and needles. But she couldn't move. She could only stare, wide eyed, into the eyes of the man who had taken away everything she had ever loved. This is a memory, Ilvaite told herself, trying to force the thought through the haze of recollection. It's not real. "Come on," repeated the man, his voice harder. He reached down to grab her arm. "You can't-" Ilvaite screamed. The sound froze the memory in its tracks, halting the man's outstretched arm. His form began to waver as Ilvaite fought to get her way free of her own mind. The sound of her scream echoed down the hallway of the Mishmash Inn.

The soldier banged on the door again. "Open the door!" he called.

Ilvaite shivered. The air was noticeably cooler now, and getting colder.

"I can't tell," mumbled Ilvaite, sinking to her knees. The tiles stretched down the hallway in both directions now, and the lights overhead had been replaced with fluorescent tubes.

"Are you real?" whispered Ilvaite.

Ilvaite reached out into the mind of the apparition in front of her.

Ilvaite slowed to a stop, trying to get her breathing under control. The surrounding hallway continued to shift around her. "Who are you?" she asked.

Ilvaite began to run. Beneath her feet, the soft carpet began to transform into smooth, cold, black-and-white tiles. "Hello?" she cried out. "Anyone?" "Salt?" Obsidian frowned. His face had almost returned to normal. "Food?" @Mr. Misting

"Pain," Obsidian hissed, laughing.

"No!" said Anikel, raising his hands defensively. "No need to cut more than that to get the ore. But... well, in the future, there will be more deposits there." Yerik stared at the ceiling for a long time before he fell asleep. The next morning, he was awoken by a loud banging on the door. "Wake up!" a soldier was shouting. "Princess Mariel requests your presence!"

"Hurt," echoed Obsidian, and Dave could feel the pain of the cut on his own arm.