\u201cWhere we are now, what we are about to embark on\u2026 everything, every decision and action, is critical in making sure that we take the risks that we are about to take.\u201d<\/i><\/p>\n
Doug sprang awake. His hand \u2013 his only hand \u2013 lashed out at the empty space before him as he gasped for air, his only true fingers grasping for anything solid to clutch on to. His eyes darted to-and-fro, brain firing on all the limited cylinders it could offer under the circumstances. Much like an engine misfiring after a long period of abandonment, Doug\u2019s brain coughed heavily and brought up a heavy suggestion in much the way a heavy smoker brings up part of their lungs every time they cough:<\/p>\n
Grip someone, something, and make them, or it, talk now. Worry about the details later.<\/i><\/p>\n
His back, against protests, lurched upwards. His one arm remained outstretched, locked at a ninety degree angle. Doug\u2019s blurry eyes, also clouded from lack of use, locked on to the one detail in the room. It looked vaguely like a man suddenly startled from reading their newspaper, but his eyes were blurry and unsure. Doug\u2019s hand shot forward and confirmed there was definitely a fleshy thing there in front of him and, with his eyes quickly focusing as his brain took command, confirmed that it was indeed a man currently in the process of shitting himself, something Doug\u2019s nose dozily confirmed as it joined its other senses in doing their long neglected duty.<\/p>\n
Doug wanted to clutch at his chest with his other hand, which wasn\u2019t available at the moment no matter how hard he tried. He could have let go with his one hand in order to clutch at his chest, but it was busy intimidating a man at that moment and couldn\u2019t be reassigned to chest-clutching duty, his brain reasoned. His brain also reasoned that, as far as he could remember the searing pain and flames, he should be dead.<\/p>\n
\u201cI SHOULD BE DEAD,\u201d Doug yelled into the man\u2019s face, his brain having grabbed his vocal chords by the goolies and ordered them to determine what the fuck was going on. \u201cWHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON,\u201d Doug added, his mouth suddenly syncing with his brain with much aplomb.<\/p>\n
\u201cY-you w-were r-really hurt!\u201d stammered the man in Doug\u2019s hand, attempting to remove the stunned merc\u2019s hand from his collar and realising it might take either three men or a really hot iron to remove the clasped fist from around his person, as tightly clenched as it was. Realising there was only one way out, the man\u2019s hand tentatively reached for a nearby table, gripping a tube designed for paste. He held it accusingly at Doug and then, whimpering all the while as the scarred mercenary growled at him, reached up with his other hand, unscrewed the end of the tube\u2026<\/p>\n
…and squirted a big dollop on Doug\u2019s naked chest. The merc immediately released his grip, his face unclenching from angry accusation to pure relief in a matter of seconds. The man\u2019s other hand reached out and carefully rubbed it into Doug\u2019s lumpy chest, the motion calming the beast partially tucked into bed.<\/p>\n
\u201cAhhhhhhh,\u201d offered Doug, slipping back into his coma. The man continued rubbing the salve as another person entered the room; it was Gratin. You could almost feel the sceptical eyes judging from behind the mask.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe does this regularly now,\u201d explained the man rubbing cream into Doug\u2019s chest, now upright and committed to the act, \u201cdon\u2019t you want to intervene and let him know what\u2019s going on? I know you\u2019re one of them types. You could use yer talky brain-ter-brain mojo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI suppose,\u201d replied Gratin with an undertone of reluctance in his voice. \u201cIt\u2019s all been going very smoothly in his absence though,\u201d continued the mage, \u201ceven Mistress Blaise seems content at the moment.\u201d<\/p>\n
The man paused as he considered the Mage\u2019s words.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou talking about the bird that sat up for an entire week without sleep just to keep an eye on this bloke? And only went to bed when the fancy lady with the accent and them wicked steel fans showed up and gave her a dressin\u2019 down? That \u2018Mistress Blaise\u2019?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPerhaps content was the wrong word….Focused may be more appropriate…\u201d<\/p>\n
The Man returned to rubbing in the ointment, shaking his head.<\/p>\n
\u201cFocused is definitely one word for it, I\u2019ll give you that. Whatever you want to call it, Miss O\u2019 Donnell\u2019s gonna be more upset with you if you don\u2019t give her a nudge about ol\u2019 Doug showin\u2019 signs o\u2019 life. And she\u2019s got plenty to be annoyed at you over as it is. You know how she\u2019d react if she knew you kept sneaking out to run your little errands every time she turns her back,\u201d said the man, pouring another considerable dollop of cream into his hand and slathering it on the now sleeping Doug\u2019s chest.<\/p>\n
\u201cI thank you for not telling her about those,\u201d Gratin tipped his head into a slight bow to show his appreciation. The man made a small grunt in disapproval, opting to steer away from that subject.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy main point is that I\u2019m a bit fed up of this fecker strangling me every half hour or so.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHmm. I will resolve this,\u201d said Gratin. The mage stepped forward, nudging the man out of the way, then held a palm over Doug\u2019s face and stood there silently. For a few seconds the man considered the scene and then stepped backwards.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh don\u2019t you start this fecking act,\u201d he snapped, \u201cif you suddenly turn and attempt to grab me then I\u2019ll feed this fecking cream to you, you fecker!\u201d<\/p>\n
The mage didn\u2019t reply. Realising he was sharing a room with two men who weren\u2019t currently occupying the same space as he was, the man left.<\/p>\n
Gratin opened his eyes to find himself standing under an alien sky. It was night time, the sky littered with stars arranged in unfamiliar constellations. The surrounding landscape was barren save for the remains of an ancient stone building, a stone archway standing by broken slabs of brickwork that once upon a time had been part of a larger structure. Modern lighting had been set up here, electric lamps being powered by generators illuminating the surroundings. From the looks of it, a fight had occurred here recently, fresh blood soaking into the floor and what remained of the stone walls. Gratin had never speculated what Doug\u2019s mental landscape would look like \u2013 the thought never having appealed due to already knowing enough about who Doug was to inform him that it would be the last thing he\u2019d ever want to see \u2013 but if he had to make a guess, this would not have been it. At the very least, he had expected something resembling a pub, although a battlefield did make sense knowing Doug\u2019s penchant for violence…<\/p>\n
Gratin peered around for any sign of the slumbering soldier, finding him lying on the floor on the other side of a demolished wall. Doug was wearing what had once been his old PSF uniform but now looked more like blood covered rags. What remained of his left arm was wrapped up tightly in some shredded brown fabric that was acting as a makeshift tourniquet, the ground surrounding the soldier being soiled with blood from the freshly removed appendage.<\/p>\n
The soldier also wasn\u2019t alone.<\/p>\n
What could only be described as either an angel or a Valkyrie was leaning over him, whispering to him. She glowed in the dark, her head wreathed in flame. Large, brown wings protruded from her back, the feathers rustling in the breeze. Doug was listening to her intently, tears in his eyes and a soft smile on his lips. His one good hand was caressing her face, the Valkyrie tenderly holding it in place as she spoke, wiping his tears away with her free hand. She was also softly crying. The sight of them together made Gratin feel like he had barged in on something incredibly personal. It was a risk that came with peaking at somebody\u2019s dreams and it made Gratin feel like a naughty child peaking at his Faustmas presents long before it was time to open them.<\/p>\n
The mage awkwardly cleared his throat, letting his presence known. The couple turned to look at him, the Valkyrie unfolding her wings and letting out a furious, bird-like screech at the sight of him, the wreath of flame that was her hair suddenly burning far more intensely in her anger. Doug grabbed her arm, holding her back as he forced himself up into a sitting position.<\/p>\n
\u201cArchie? How\u2019d you get here?\u201d The soldier asked, confusion evident on his face.<\/p>\n
\u201cMeatbag,\u201d replied Gratin in his usual monotone intonation, \u201cyou\u2019re still asleep.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t be daft,\u201d snorted Doug, holding tightly onto the bird-woman.<\/p>\n
\u201cThink about it. This is clearly a memory of the day you lost your arm. You are wearing your military uniform. We didn\u2019t meet until some time after you left. Also, there appears to be a mythological creature sitting next to you. In reality, we\u2019re in Galmanoc,\u201d Gratin informed his colleague, carefully approaching the couple. The Valkyrie was practically spitting in rage as he approached. Gratin assumed that she was acting as a representation of a piece of Doug\u2019s subconscious which was fully aware that Gratin was intruding and wasn\u2019t happy about it to the point of turning feral. Doug seemed to have a handle on it though, the creature merely looking threatening but making no move to attack.<\/p>\n