Where in all the Seven Underland's am I?

The house was nice. Really nice. Walls made of whitewood cedar from the depths of Trallengard’s Wilders were adorned with golden, brass, and crystal sconces that each held multicolored balls of shining essence. Every piece of furniture was intricately designed and ornate beyond all reason, though she scarcely noticed their lavishness. The main thing that caught Korrin’s eye is that all of the furniture was massive, even the almost plain chairs carved with small blessings of the Ta’ towered leagues above her.

This is insane- I was on the rooftop... With Jorrick- Jorrick?!

She didn’t see her brother… but she realized she could see everything else. Korrin was taking in the world around her with both eyes.

No. No, this is impossible. Think Korrin. Make sense of the senseless... You met with Lord White at the estate, he nearly maimed ‘Slim-with-the-strong-chin-and-exquisite-ass’, you saw Heria and then- and then you gave your report….

Lord White had held her hand all the way down the grand hall that ran from his gargantuan study to the first quarters of the “Indentured” as they’d been deemed after White had become Grand Councilor. Korrin had only tried to interrupt her Lord’s joyful jabbering once before realizing he was purposely leading her away from prying ears; all the Indentured would be out spying for White at that late an hour, acting as his eyes across Blancana. He’d been so charming and kind Korrin had hardly noticed how empty the entire estate had been. But she had noticed. She just knew better than to ask.

As soon as she revealed where the bandaged ‘Silent One’ had stopped with his… interesting companions, Lord White demanded she go sit and observe atop the shop's roof. Not even time for a shower. Korrin had sat for three hours with an ever silent Jorrick by her side atop the roof of Schuri’s shop before Lord White arrived with his group of guards. By then her joints were stiff, groaning in protest to any movement, so she had decided to stretch. Then…

What then? Come on Korr-

“Korrin? Honey, are you in here?” A woman, even taller than the massive furniture that already dwarfed Korrin, wearing a delicate-looking violet dress with one too many ruffles poked her head into the gigantic room. Korrin was frozen in place for a moment. The woman was dazzling. Sure, a little plain by noble Blancanan standards, but her auburn hair burned bright in synchronicity with her tuscan red skin. Her silky blue eyes were peppered with a green shine and it stole Korrin’s very breath.

“Korrin, honey, come on it is almost time to go. If we are late again I’ll never hear the end of it!” The woman smiled at Korrin. Despite her internal protests to not go to this stranger, her body sped directly into the lovely giantesses arms. She heard herself giggling with delight as another giant, a bearded man with the typical golden-umber skin of a native Blancanan set against light brown eyes and a head of obsidian hair, entered the room. He wore a simple black suit with a pearlescent tie to match shining white lines of embroidered flowers and birds all about the rich cloth, even down to the pants. He held a small child in his arms, smiling even larger than the woman had upon finding her.

“You know, your mother’s heart may explode trying to keep up with you one day, my little Lady!” He laughed and held the infant in his arms towards her, a little boy if his outfit spoke to such things, with mismatched eyes just like her. “Isn’t that right, Jorrick?”

The baby squealed with pure delight.

I… I don’t understand. That isn’t my mother. This isn’t my life. Is it? Was it?

She didn’t get much time to think before they all moved towards a giant door constructed of solid gold and natural wilderoak, finished with a cherry dark stain. Small strings of silver essence glittered up and down the frame of the threshold. Jorrick raised his hands up at the glittering specks and laughed so hard the whole family ended up giggling along with him, dreaming Korrin included. A dream was all that made sense.

Or a memory. She didn’t want to deal with the emotions of discovering a memory of some far off fantasy-

The ornate door burst open in a plume of smoke. Splintered wood cut into her arms and chubby toddler’s fingers as she was suddenly on the ground. Her beautiful mother above her, hunched on her knees with crimson spreading across the violet of her dress. There, in that moment, Korrin saw her. Knew her. The dead eyes of her mother looked just as she remembered, except for the fact that Korrin recalled those dead eyes pumped full of synth-es on the dirty, downtrodden roads of Blancana’s slums. She wanted to run, to close her eyes, to wake up from this nightmare but something was nagging her, begging her to stay and watch what was to unfold.

If it is just a dream, I have nothing to be afraid of, right? Right… I guess.

It didn’t matter, her dream self refused to relent.

Korrin stayed there in the helpless body of her younger ‘dream self’ and heard her mother's very last breath above her. There was a word her death rattle but Korrin couldn’t make it out.

It was probably something beautiful, just like her.

Through the gap between her mother's arm and the tiled floors that danced with lifelike images of fluttering creatures and plants that swayed in rhythm, Korrin saw her father. She knew that was wrong, it had to be wrong, he died fighting in the Fracturing like thousands of others. But there he was, right before her very eyes, bleeding out much the same as her mother; covering the small infantile Jorrick with his body. He looked Korrin’s way and found her staring at him from beneath his already cold wife. He smiled at his darling ‘little Lady’. She saw the life fade from his eyes.

This is all just a nightmare. A fucked up… creepy, totally false-

The baby was still moving beneath the man.

Squirming his way out from beneath their father’s corpse, little hands begging his protector to move, he bleated and shed tears that were more precious to Korrin in that moment than any gemstone would ever be. Blood covered Jorrick’s sweet, miniature suit, though it all seemed to belong to their father. Korrin’s little arms were moving before she realized, clawing at the ground to pull herself free of her dead mother. She was fighting to save her brother. Dream or not. Korrin could never just stand idly by while he was in danger. Her small legs wouldn’t allow her to stand, too weak with terror to be of any use, so she crawled all the way over to their father and ambled over his quickly cooling body. All she could smell was blood. All she saw was Jorrick, not even a full hand's length away, but when she reached for darling baby brother Korrin’s body was lifted upward.

She never heard the footsteps behind her. Nor had she been aware of a man standing there shaking his head, tsk tsk tsk, he said, “ How I do hate to break up siblings. Alas, I’ve recently had a boy added to the ranks and… if I am being honest… they disgust me when they are this little. So helpless and weak and… flabby. Ah. Dispose of the boy. The girl will come with me when we are done here.”

“Sir.”

Korrin heard the shuffling of armor-clad feet before boots clad in White with a ‘W’ branded on the side came into view, ripping a tear in the crimson lake below her. Just beside a now screaming Jorrick.

No! No, this cannot be happening! This… this isn’t real. Wake up Korrin, wake the fuck up! Please…

Her toddler-dream body convulsed and Korrin saw her flabby arms reach out for her baby brother, tears streaming down her chubby face in a silent terror. Her left hand had been mangled by the explosion and hung limp, lifeless. The massive hands about her tiny dream body that held her like a sack of produce were gloved in white leather with gold trim. That was when it struck her; the voice of the man who held her. She knew exactly who it was. Korrin could never mistake the voice of her dear Lord White.

“Oh, little one. Sh. Sh, now.” His free hand patted her back before he moved it to her head and held her there with a grip like a five-fingered viper, forcing her to watch as a soldier with a look of horror all his own picked up a tiny, squirming Jorrick, mismatched eyes full of tears as he banshee screamed his way into the man's arms. An abrupt, cold silence followed as the baby met with the soldier's blade. Spilling fresh red down his pearlescent white armor, steel and heavy on his chest as he hunched over to puke.

“Oh… poor boy. Poor… poor boy… well, now I feel bad!” The dream White carried Korrin over to the soldier still getting sick and without a moment's notice shoved a blade into the young man’s temple. “It is going to take the servants hours to scrub the red out of that armor. Ah. Might as well throw it out.” As White turned to leave with an adolescent Korrin in arm, he held a hand out to his remaining guards and squeezed his fist. Every guard’s bones tore through their skin as they were impaled on their own spines. Korrin could hear the gasp of fading essence but there was nothing else… until White started to hum. A tune she knew. A tune she’d known her whole life.

It proved to be too much for her to go any further. In an instant the mulitcolored carnage and gore set against the extravagant backdrop of a lovely manor, her family’s lovely manor, disappeared. Sucked into one point of consciousness that shone brilliantly, before her eyes tore open. Korrin looked around her small metal cot, met the stares of three people gathered in a room that was made of… trash?

And promptly puked her fucking guts out.

***

Patri put his hand over his mouth and gagged so hard he felt like his throat was trying to jump out. He absolutely hated to be around when other people puked, the sound, the smell…. The sight alone had even triggered his own horrible retching from across a pub, more than once. When ‘Eyepatch’, who Mezir swore was little baby Korrin from back in the day, woke up and immediately started vomiting upon seeing them, he had nearly lost it. Patri ground his teeth together as hard as he could, willing the saliva in his mouth to relent, afraid that if he swallowed it down, it would just come back up with much, much worse in tow. He knew his diet was shit and it always tasted as such on the way back up.

I will not give Amberosin the pleasure- not today! The wild young woman knew about his weakness and was never one to pass up a chance to use it against him. Don’t look at her Pat, don’t do it.

He did. Of course.

As soon as Patri’s gaze fell on Amberosin she feigned a gag and held her stomach in a mock dry heave, hand over her mouth. No doubt covering a shit-eating grin.

Come on, Patri, listen to your own advice damn you!

He held back a savage retch of his own and steeled his eyes shut.- which was a huge mistake.

The darkness he summoned behind his eyelids to hide Amberosin’s mock puking only served to enhance the sound of Eyepa- uh, Korrin’s- actual puking. This time his teeth parted without so much as a struggle and let a surge of sickness explode out of his mouth.

Yep. Taste just like… whatever tastes worse than shit. Burnt shit? Dog shit?

Burnt dog shit… great. I have got to start eating better.

***

Mezir looked back over his shoulder in time to see Patri double over and fall into a mess of his own making. An ever-helpful Amberosin laid sprawled on the ground not ten steps away holding her guts in a fit of violently satisfied laughter. He couldn’t help but smile.

What does it say about me that I’ve been dreaming about this for years?

Mezir laughed aloud at Patri’s misfortune alongside Amberosin in a- lovingly -cruel duet. Korrin’s patch had been disheveled during her bout of sickness, uncovering both her emerald green and sapphire blue eyes, which she locked on to Mezir. She had recognized his laugh. Just like Amberosin, his laugh had solidified his identity to them in a matter of moments. He felt a quiet sense of pride about the fact but forced it down to indulge in it privately later. Mezir didn’t want to waste his chance.

His laugh subsided naturally, quietly, before he met Korrin’s gaze with intent.

“Korrin… Little- well, I guess I can’t call you that anymore, can I?” Mezir’s smile was rueful, though absolutely sincere. “Korrin. I’m not sure how much you remember about me but you remember my laugh? You know it's me, right?” He hoped his eyes pleaded as much as his heart. He needed her on their side. If she didn’t side with them… if she stayed allied with White…

“Mezir. I… I know it’s you.” She nodded her head slowly and moved forward, hand upon his right cheek. “I… I knew that wasn’t you behind the mask… but Lord- uh, your father he…”

“He lied, Korrin. It's all he's ever done.” Mezir could see it in her face. A confused, sorrowful look. And he knew.

It worked!

He’d felt a blockage of essence when he had been binding her leg. Mezir had followed it and used his self crafted mask to expose the root problem. A clot of black essence sitting atop Korrin’s brain. He had removed it without hesitation. A bit impulsive, he admitted, but entirely necessary. The black clot could have been doing anything from tracking her to controlling her entirely. There was always the chance it could have broken her, mentally, but Mezir thought she was strong enough to recover. Hoped.

“What… what I saw?” Her hand shook as she brought it back to her own head. Memories were bouncing about conflicting with one another like a sack of marbles being thrashed about by a running child, he knew. Mezir had been there before. Recovering. Sifting. Erasing. Remembering.

Mezir simply nodded and set his hands on her shoulders.

Korrin burst into tears and fell into Mezir’s chest.

Now we are just waiting on Ta’k. Once he wakes up-

A loud, timed banging broke through his thoughts. It came from the barges only door, which was situated towards the docks, as was regulatory of all vessels in Blancana. It was cast with an impeccable illusion and was one of Mezir’s best pieces of work. Not to mention it was the middle of the night and there was no way-

“White’s Guard. This is the White’s guard. We need to speak to the owner of this vessel. Immediately.”