It was the next day – or at least Sanria thought it was – truly, it
could have been any day in any of the spans of time, forward or
backward, for perpetuity. She sat in the Jacuzzi once more, watching
the bubbles come from the jets as the healer worked on her shoulder
muscles – lifting her arm, tsking, and examining. She was lost in the
multitudinous thoughts until the knock at the door. A simple sound and
she was back in folded dimensions, blurred just like the bubbles of her
bath. Her next recollection was laying on the floor while Throm
harangued the healer.
Sanria’s mind slogged ahead – faces popping up to be replaced
with others, all while she sat right in the same place. It was as
though time had absolutely no purpose, meaning, reason, or order, and it
sped with violent force in her head. Through this fragmented mess,
Sanria managed to tell Throm what she could of finding Visha in the
cavern. When the questions turned to the location of the rift, however,
Sanria shut down. So long as she didn’t talk, Throm would never know.
He would never be lost. He would never be hurt.
Bathing on the Bastion
She couldn’t escape. All of Sanria’s limbs had withered while in
stasis – her legs and arms were so thin they could scarce support her
weight, and even that was dangerously low. “Please… make it stop… Make
it stop!” In her mind, flashes of Visha’s ship combined with flashes of
her own ship and flicked back in time to flashes of her own ship. None
of it made any sense – only that this certainly had to mean danger.
Throm carried her into his ship amidst her protests. She tried to chant herself into believing it would all be alright – but it was barely working. Panic sat at the edges of her mind, toying with the threads of her sanity. Amidst Throm’s questioning – his face became mixed with so many from her past. She couldn’t keep any of it straight… he was Throm, then Tarran, then Colin, then Visha, then Thasmudyan, then Havok, then Sandorin…
“What is this dimension of which you speak?” Throm and his voice cut into her mind’s dissimulation.
“No. No. I won't tell you. I won't have anyone go there. I won't. You'll die. If you don't have Colin... or Visha...” And it was true, without a guide, Throm would be as good as lost.
They both argued until Sanria could take no more. There was no further discussion as Throm led Sanria to the bathing hall and the healer on the ship. Throm excused himself as Sanria dropped her robes to the floor. She had no shame, no cares of how she might appear. In the water she watched the turbulent bubbles as the healer looked her over in absolute silence. In her mind, Sanria was here, then in the Illuminati clan Jacuzzi, then home in her tub, then here again…
Throm carried her into his ship amidst her protests. She tried to chant herself into believing it would all be alright – but it was barely working. Panic sat at the edges of her mind, toying with the threads of her sanity. Amidst Throm’s questioning – his face became mixed with so many from her past. She couldn’t keep any of it straight… he was Throm, then Tarran, then Colin, then Visha, then Thasmudyan, then Havok, then Sandorin…
“What is this dimension of which you speak?” Throm and his voice cut into her mind’s dissimulation.
“No. No. I won't tell you. I won't have anyone go there. I won't. You'll die. If you don't have Colin... or Visha...” And it was true, without a guide, Throm would be as good as lost.
They both argued until Sanria could take no more. There was no further discussion as Throm led Sanria to the bathing hall and the healer on the ship. Throm excused himself as Sanria dropped her robes to the floor. She had no shame, no cares of how she might appear. In the water she watched the turbulent bubbles as the healer looked her over in absolute silence. In her mind, Sanria was here, then in the Illuminati clan Jacuzzi, then home in her tub, then here again…
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