A World Away

Aftermath

Letting loose a venomous howl Freya smashed the rickety stool against the wall, not at all satisfied when a broken leg tumbled into the air and a sizable hole was put through the plaster.

“Damn it all!” she screeched, tossing the stool aside and gripping the sides of her head madly. “Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!” Yanking furiously, blind to the pain of skin tearing from her scalp or the aching of her toes as she kicked the wall and then slammed her heel into the wooden cupboard turned over minutes before in a blind rage.

Strands of wiry hair fluttered to the ground as she seized a marble bust of a young woman and hurdled it across the room. “Damn it all!” she howled, unable to say anything else. Like a broken record, skipping over and over again. By the time her anger dimmed nothing within the room remained unbroken.

Gone! Gone! Gone!

The book was gone, taken by that wretched thief! Freya could burn the whole world down and still not be satisfied. She wished to throttle the idiot girl who had brought the promise of home and then ruthlessly stole away their one chance of escape from this rotten and hollow world.

"Cut out her heart," she snarled, fingers sinking into the flesh of her palms as she imaged it. Wished for it. "Smash her skull, crack her spine! Pull out her eyes!" Were Freya back home she would have that little wench burned alive with a mere thought! Spell her insides out or have her blood boil! Perhaps she would even drop her off at the Assassins Den and watch them torture her as they did best. Of course none of that was possible.

And Freya only had herself to blame. She had sensed something about the girl the moment she set foot in the shop. Feldes had promised this to be the one. They had talked on the phone, conversing over the book.

The book with the silver eye.

For years Freya had been fishing for those with the Sight, those capable of magic or at the very least aware of it. There were plenty of those folk around, but none were strong enough to pierce the membrane of this world and spy into the realms outside it. Yet there were a few and when they went looking for answers they would eventually find themselves at Freya’s doorstep. Making inquiries…

… asking about the silver eye. About the Silver Court, crown of the world. Freya’s home.

“Damn it!” She hissed, giving one last feeble kick at the wardrobe. “Feldes…”

Leaning upon a wall, the bruises of her tantrum now strumming with twinges, Freya slid down to the floor.

Her granddaughter had been just a babe when they were both banished from the Gray Spires. So little and innocent. She nearly died when they were thrown into this world and were it not for some kind passerbyers she would have surely met her end.

Tears poured down Freya’s face, guilty heavy upon her heart.

She didn’t understand. She couldn’t… The spell had worked! The girl, Larissa Moran, she had said the words and the portal opened! That hadn’t happened before. Dozens of souls have come to them and all of them turned to dust. Spell backfire. Magical overload. Weakness. Not this time, however. This time the portal opened and Feldes…

“I’ll make her pay,” Freya whispered, a promise to her granddaughter’s spirit. Wherever it may be.

This was all Larissa Moran’s fault. Oh she had cried and begged, pleading with eyes of a clueless waif, but she had known! She was the key, the sacrifice. Her soul the fuel while Freya and Feldes portaled back to their homeland. This world was so weak and feeble. It’s magic near elusive. They had to use something else and souls worked just as good. Larissa must have known that and when the spell demanded a price…

She had given it Feldes’ soul. Tricked them so that she could travel to the world of unlimited power. Who wouldn’t want that! As diminished as it was the Silver Court lived on still and the Gray Spires were a land of enchantment and power for the displaced souls. All those who dreamed of it had some desire to visit it. Why else would they go through such lengths for the book...

For the book that always lingered within their dreams.

Springing to her feet Freya began to move around the rubble. She snatched Feldes’ backpack and began to stuff items of importance into it. Things that had migrated from their house to the pitiful shop that Freya loathed so much even if it did have it’s uses. Now that Freya was stuck here the objects of this world once more held some meaning and without Feldes to aid her she would have to put forth more effort than ever before. The shop... admittedly, was a good front, a mere costume to make them appear normal and honest.

It had to be forsaken. Soon the police would come knocking and asking questions. Freya had much to do and she didn’t want to waste the energy in alluding them. Not when she was Hunting. Her book had been taken.

But another was still out there, though how she was to find it was a thought to put off tell a later time.

Taking one last look around, seeing Feldes' touch everywhere, Freya pressed her lips together. The facade was gone along with her granddaughter. She had hated running the shop, but her granddaughter had made it enjoyable in some aspects.

“I'll make her pay,” she said to the room, to the miserable shop that attracted mundane fools like flies to animal droppings. Wasting time, wasting her time. Many had come before this one in particular and all of them were abandoned with blood on her hands.

Not this time. The blood was upon another's and Freya swore she would find a way back home. Find a way to that trickster girl.

As the red wave of anger subsided, her expended energy finally catching up with her mind as a heavy weight filled her limbs, a buzzing sound drew her attention towards the ground. Beneath the table she had nearly hewed in two.

Retreating back into the chaos she knelt down, moving aside the broken stool and seeing a phone. Upon it’s face was a young girl, two in fact. Their faces were smashed together, smiles wide and dark hair wild.

Ah, Freya thought. She remembered now, slapping it out of that girl’s hand.

Curious, she swiped the screen. What had this girl left behind? Was her life so horrible that she was willing to portal to another realm with only the clothes on her back? When granted the opportunity she was willing to leave behind two youngsters?

A new message, from Sis. Several in fact.

Did you get the book?

Hello? Did you get it?

You didn’t get it did you? Did they find out you were faking? Maybe you can bring me along and I’ll convince them. Pretty please!

Are you just messing with me? My birthday's in two days! Please don't make me wait that long!

I had a dream! You had the book! So I know you have it!

Can you at least send me a pic?

:P


The book…

It hadn’t been for Larissa.

It was for her sister.

“Oh,” Freya whispered, a smiling forming. “Oh that is interesting.”

She hadn’t encountered this before. The Sight shared between kin? There had been some enchantment within Larissa Moran but if it was her sister who had the dreams... who was powerful enough to see beyond this world and into another...

Than surely she could see into this one as well. With a little help from Freya, a little added enchantment, than this girl could help her find the second one.

She can lead Freya to where Graigon lay hidden.

Freya had forsaken the Dawnbringers and their efforts in preserving their order, but that idiot had remained faithful to them. Her biggest mistake -well... second biggest mistake- had been coming at odds with him. Sharing her doubts, her anger. He feared she would misuse the books...

... and loose them.

Pocketing the phone Freya stood up and dusted off her clothes and fixed the bird's nest upon her head until she regained her airs of sanity. With a clear path now bestowed before her any bouts of rage or scheming would surely tip off those she would use to further her goals.

She must appear... grandmotherly.

Weak and feeble and innocent.

Someone who would most certainly not kidnap a child and harvest the innocent with the intent of using their souls to perform magic.

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