The compression of the void upon her was tremendous, and it verily pressed the air from her chest. Just when the panic had risen to its breaking point, and Emalia was beginning to truly fight for what she thought was her life, she and Colin arrived through the portal and into a plane like none other.
"Colin! What the hell is wrong with you?!" Emalia nearly screamed. Now it seemed that Colin had nothing to say to her at all, as he promptly released her and began looking around.
Emalia shook her head in irritation, and her eyes immediately caught the sight of a man that stilled the breath in her chest for yet a second time today. He was tall, with a face that looked almost undead in its appearance. His expression was one of perfect indifference as he looked on the two calmly, then to Emalia with a nod. "Well met, Emalia."
"Colin..." Emalia began, ignoring the greeting. Something was very wrong here, very wrong indeed. "Who is that man?"
"Have you brought my fee for keeping the woman safe?"
Colin pulled from his tunic the very same vial of black makou that had been given him by Throm. Emalia couldn't believe her eyes. "Colin!" she gasped, rushing to grip her husband's arm. "You just gave him black makou!!!"
"Your safety is being assured," the tall, withered man said calmly.
Emalia couldn't believe the look upon Colin's face. She had never seen anything like it - irritation. As if she were a nuisance to be pushed away. "You will be fine and I will return for you later," he said with a marked coolness.
"I have no say in this?" Emalia asked, her voice rising slightly in pitch. Her head was simply swimming. She wanted to cry, to scream, to run away... but all around her was the oddest reality she'd ever seen. Red moss on the ground, swirling colors of wind, purple skies -
"No, I'm afraid you don't."
"It was necessary for me to obtain this substance so that it could be studied, and we can combat its effects on the waking world." Halethiel then continued, "You have a say in all things. In this, your voice has been quieted, I'm afraid."
Emalia's eyes filled with tears, but before she could say anything, she found herself locked within a cottage. She spun around in a panic, there were no doors. While the insides were well furnished - a bed, a desk, and all the accoutrements of home - it was still a prison; Emalia's prison. She raced to the walls, dragging nervously twitching fingers along the wood. There was nothing false about it - it was real... and there was no way out.
With a few more moments spent in frantic search, Emalia sat in the middle of the floor, afraid to even seat herself on the luxurious chairs by the fire. There was nothing she could do, but dread, contemplate, sob, and wait.
