Heroes of Dreamland Rewritten, Book 2: Stars in Far Places

Chapter 33

Meta | メタ

When I finally come to, I can see very little light from behind my eyelids. My body is sore all over, and I feel rather as though I've been quite literally thrown down onto the cold, smooth surface I'm lying on. For a moment, I lie here, entirely disoriented, until I remember the circumstances that brought me to this moment.

Heart pounding in terror, I bolt upright into a sitting position and stare desperately around myself, searching for Blossom. It's extremely dim in this place and rather foggy, but I notice her a moment later, lying not far from my side.

"Blossom," I gasp, scurrying up and over to her as fast as I can. "Blossom, are you alright?"

She groans slightly in response and slowly comes to, half-opening her eyes and staring up at me. "Where are we?"

"I'm not sure," I answer, nervous, as I help her up into a standing position and pull her close, anxious that something may try and hurt us. "Nowhere good, that's for sure."

She gives a worried hum a moment later. "Our swords are gone."

I'd noticed, but hadn't fully processed that fact yet. "I still have my cape, at least, but... since I have no idea where we are, I don't think I can warp us out of here."

She nods once. "It wouldn't be safe to try. There's no telling where we are; we could be on an entirely different planet, for all we know."

"This place isn't a planet," a huge, slightly-nasally voice informs her in a smug tone, instantly making my very heart and soul feel like ice. I don't know for sure who that voice belongs to, but I have a guess—who else's voice would invite terror at its very sound like this?

Blossom clings to me, shuddering. "Are you alright?" I ask her. She doesn't answer, just seems even more petrified than I am. I wrap my wings around her to guard her from anything that might hurt her.

"Meta?" she asks me in a tiny, broken voice.

"Yes?" I reply as gently as possible, glaring around us, trying to locate the source of the horrible voice.

"What does the floor look like?"

"The floor?" I question in confusion, but take a closer look around at it. "It's... a checkerboard. Black and white."

"I was afraid you'd say that," she whimpers, burying her face in my side.

I've seen Blossom broken-hearted before. I've seen Blossom so sick she could hardly get up out of bed before. I've seen Blossom nervous before. I've even seen her weep before. But in all the years I've known her, I've never once seen her so absolutely and entirely terrified like this.

"Do you know this place?" I ask her, frowning deeply to myself, wishing desperately that we were still armed.

She takes a deep, shaking breath. "In nightmares. In many nightmares. Never in person, I don't think, but in dreams? Over and over and over again."

Her admission is greeted by a dark, rumbling laugh that fills the seemingly-limitless room, echoing off of a distant, out-of-sight ceiling and making the floor rumble ominously. "Oh, so you still don't remember? It feels like just yesterday that I threw you out, tiny one. You were even more tiny than you are now, back then. But yet, it begs the question—how in the worlds did you come back?"

"Blossom, what is he talking about?" I demand as my heartbeat picks up even higher. "What does he mean that you were here before?"

"I don't know," she tells me in a tiny whimper. I can feel tears beginning to slide down her face. "I don't know what he's talking about. I just know that we're not safe here. Only horrible things happen in this place."