Threads of the Soul

"We're not in Kansas anymore."

"Heh, No we certainly are not."

Seth chuckled softly as he replied to Astra's comment to his rhetorical question. He hadn't really expected an answer from it, because if they knew where they are they both wouldn't be sitting here metaphorically scratching their asses and literally scratching their heads in confusion.

But of all the replies she could have given, a Wizard of Oz reference was definitely the last thing he could have expected to come from this girl's lips. Actually... it kinda made sense now that he thought about it.

Despite her aloof and scary appearance, with a natural stand-offish scowl that seemed like she would be right at home in a mafia movie, Astra was, as far as Seth could tell, kind of a huge nerd. Like even on his own level of nerd.

He was prone to making plenty of references himself, it was just how his mind worked, and even when they were so obscure that no one else understood what he was talking about, Astra always seemed to know.

He had even made a few truly obscure, absolutely nonsensical ones just to test her, even at the risk of making himself sound utterly banana pants insane. She passed with flying colours, even if she didn't find them funny, he could always see a hint of recognition in her eyes.

It was cute.

So a simple Wizard of Oz reference, honestly when you were in a situation like this, who would be able to resist?

Seth dug around in his pockets, looking for something specific, until he finally found it in a pouch on the right of his hip. A location that was definitely not awkward to reach now that he was back to being an unwilling lefty, since his mechanical arm had lost its power source blowing that Giant Dwarf to kingdom come. He just hoped the sacrifice was worth it, because if it hadn't been and that beast had regenerated even from that, he had no idea how they would contain him never mind put him down for good.

But that was a concern for another time, for now all they had to concern themselves with was where in the world they were, and how to get back to the city. Oh, and to take this chance to heal from their wounds, which was exactly why Seth was fumbling with this pouch hanging on his hip.

Finally freeing the item from the wicked snare of his pocket, Seth raised the rolled cigarette to his mouth and placed it between his lips, before realising he was missing a lighter. Turning his attention back to Astra, he gave her a sheepish smile.

"Don't suppose you could give us a hand, could you?"

He simply received a withering stare as a response, a look that seemed incredulous at how he could be smoking something like that at a time like this. He could feel her impression of him plummeting in her mind, so he hastily went on damage control.

"Oh uh... It's not what you think, I swear. It's the golden grass, you know for the health potions. It's completely medicinal, just a pain killer and speeds up healing. Nothing more, I promise."

He gave her his best puppy dog eyes as he spoke, trying his best to look innocent and respectable as he spoke but only looked like a child trying to convince their parent of the benefits of playing video games for 16 hours straight. A completely unspecific example that Seth had no reason to think about in this current moment.

It didn't help that that's how Seth was feeling too, being reminded of the way his older sister would look at him when he was younger. The annoyance, with a faint hint of disappointment. Disappointed not that you had lied to them, but that you did so with such a terrible lie and that you thought that they would be stupid enough to believe it.

The worst part was, he wasn't lying. This time at least, he was absolutely lying when he had been talking to his sister as a young boy. But this time, it was entirely true. The dew from the golden grass, a plant he had taken cuttings from and had managed to cultivate properly in his castle garden, was actually the substance with more risk of addiction.

If you watered it down enough, you could mix some decent health potions from it, and that is exactly what he did with it. But if you dried out the grass, you could smoke that and receive the healing through that.

It wasn't as immediate as the health potions, but it came with an extra pain dulling effect, so it was best for situations like this, in which you had the time to allow the healing over time to do its job.

Eventually, master negotiator Seth broke Astra down and she reluctantly leaned over and lit the cigarette with a little static shock from her finger. She was like a living arc lighter. Seth did make sure to thank her by giving her a few puffs of the golden grass, to help boost her healing to deal with any small injuries she might have, as well as prove to her that it wasn't a bad thing.

Only when she could see the small scrapes and cuts on her hands gradually closing themselves up, did she finally believe him.

Once it was settle that they were definitely not doing any sort of drugs and were simply taking their healing medicine, the pair decided that the best course of action, instead of standing around smoking all day, was to go for a walk while they smoked.

They still had to find out where they were, after all. So, after carving a mark into one of the sparse trees with his fingernail, a task that was actually quite easy with a little mana, the pair simply picked a direction and set off into the distance.

However, when they reached the third hour mark of their little wayward trek, and their surroundings had yet to change from anything but endless grass and the occasional tree, a particular issue reared its ugly head.

"That's the fifth time."

Astra spoke plainly, her tone even and almost emotionless, but Seth didn't have to look at her at this point to know that she was worried in some capacity. He was too, after all. He simply nodded, glancing at the tree as they passed it by.

His eyes lingering on a strange marking carved into the bark of the pink leaved tree, which looked like a child had scrawled the message 'S & A wuz here' into the side. Of course, this was the marking that he himself had carved into that initial tree.

They were walking in a loop. But it wasn't a perfect loop. By the second time they noticed the same marking, they had already realised the odd, loopy space they were in and so had chosen a different direction to walk in, to test the limits of their trek.

They had timed it the time after that, and had done so this time as well. Of course, it was a mental timing, so it was a little off, but even if their final counts were different from each others, simply because of the way humans really couldn't count seconds properly, they still should have been the same individually.

But by Seth's count, they were off by at least ten whole minutes, and Astra's count was facing a similar conundrum. Just to be certain, they looped around a few more times, choosing the same direction for the first two loops, then another direction for the loop after that.

Each and every loop had a different timing to it, with no logical pattern or reasoning to it. Even when they doubled back on themselves and walked the exact way they had come, their timing was wrong.

As if that wasn't irritating enough, their directions seemed to be messing up as well as their timing. If they used the trees marking as north, since there was no better way to orientate themselves in this boundless space, then no matter what direction they chose, they would always arrive on the south side of the tree.

There was also the fact that the sparse trees that littered their surroundings and broke up the endless green of the infinite meadow seemed to move on their own. It wasn't something they had seen, it wasn't as if they had witnessed a tree pulling itself out of the ground for a lovely Sunday stroll to stretch its legs.

But they were definitely moving, rearranging themselves somehow. The space was definitely looping, the tree marking had made sure they understood that, but the trees were never in the same position, sometimes spaced out wider or gathered closer together, even though they always arrived to the marked tree from the same direction.

Trying to wrap his mind around the consistently inconsistent rules of this limitless space was giving Seth a real headache. But, just as he was coming to terms with their situation, this illogical space spat in his face once more, by throwing him another curve ball.

For the last five hours, nothing had changed about the space they were walking through. Sure, the trees moved and rearranged their positions, but that was all there was. Just trees and grass, that was the rule Seth had grown used to, that this space only contained trees and grass. Grass and trees.

Yet, there it was, the spit in his face just when he was sure that there was at least something he understood. Resting against that familiar marked tree, sitting directly underneath the carving he himself had made, was a brass statue. A statue that just so happened to be one of his Unkindly Guards.