Harmony felt like she had been asleep for a long time...a spell perhaps? Was it the darkened air of her room, or perhaps the mischief of Muse, her other-self, gone awry? She wasn't sure. What she was sure of, is what her senses now told her. Something has changed. But what?
She sniffed, and an acrid scent of dust and decay fill her nostrils. That's new.
As her senses began filter in, she noticed that she was laying down, on her side; behind her and to the left of her, there's was pale light, and openness, but in front of her—she pushed a palm out—it was just a solid, dark wall, lined with age. Her breath rustled through the air, echoing as if were in a small space. She rolled over. Her feet felt cold, and whatever her back was lying on, was hard...
Harmony saw that someone had covered her bare body with a sort of soft blanket made of russet velvet, a deep warm color, though nearly threadbare and thickly coated with dust.
Her head reeled. From the cool air that blew on her skin, and the cold at her back, she knew that whatever, or whoever, left her here, had left her clothing-less. She grasped the covering to bring it with her, but it crumbled to pieces, shedding dust, when she lifted it. Carefully, Harmony pushed aside the soft dust and bits of the covering, dumping it to the floor. The hard thing she was laying on, felt like some kind of wooden slab, or perhaps cot, set into a long, dark hole in the wall--a ledge, really, just a little above the floor, and shaped to fit her prone body without much room for anything else.
She pushed herself up on her elbows, and slid first one leg out, then put both feet to the floor; carefully propped herself up into a sitting position. Now she was awkwardly crouched with her feet and legs out for the hole, head out of the hole, but still seated inside the hole. I must have been here a for a long time, she thought; her thick reddish-blonde hair was so long, part of it flopped out and down to the floor, as she rose. Slowly, Harmony slid forward out of the hole, and stood up, body coated in russet dust, and took stock of her surroundings.
Cobweb-cluttered walls...crumbling grey stone, more person-shaped ledges above and across the room from her; and dark bits of moss growing along the damp floor. Long hallways stretching off to her left and right, all the same.. even more long person-shaped shelves, some with similarly russet-covered figures, white shapes appearing at the ends which appeared to be bone. A soft, sad absence of meaning hovered over them, as if they were somewhat unreal, or simply pieces of décor; there were no names on these shelves, no labels or flowers; no signs of individuality or significance, here. Only a kind of storage of someone's leftover shells, cast off bits of a former life.
The stone walls and floor, and the high arched ceilings, rising to a softly-lit round lamp at regular intervals, that all seemed real enough, though... 'What is this place'—no, that wasn't really the question; it was clearly a tomb of some kind. That much was obvious.
But where? Or better yet—when?
Glancing back at the hole she had been in, Harmony noticed a mana-user's wand—a thick, gracefully designed rod for enhancing and directing magic. That, she recognized. She reached out to grasp it, thinking of using it, and saw that her own fingers were trembling in shock. She shuddered and forced herself to grasp the wand, and lift it in spite of her discomfort.
She had noticed one more thing, in the brief seconds it took for her to wake, turn, lift herself, remove the blanket, and stand up.
She was pregnant. Very much so. And, she hadn't been before. What?! How?!!