Rude awakening.

My eyes open as the words escape my lips in a murmur; heard by no one but me. Zana seemed to have gone for breakfast, at least if the smell wafting through my ajar door was any indication. Yawning, I stretch out, processing last nights visit. The memories still hummed in my ears, the faded outlines of people I used to know shifting around in my skull; right behind my eye. It sent a chill down my spine.

I get on my clothes, heading towards the aroma that had seeming called Zana over; stopping just before the doorway. I could hear the sounds of my party: shuffling of plates, laughter, snide remarks, and a few arguments already starting to heat up over dumb, meaningless things. Just like home...

I ignore the rumbling in my gut, and leave the doorway; heading instead towards that most horribly memorable of spots. The door to the tree and the hill swings wide open, and I gingerly walk up the incline. The constant hum of the memories continues to stab at me; why, why does it hurt? It isn't a pain I can confront, either. Its not burning my skin, or making my eyes water. Its just... hollow. Its not eating away at me like acid, because there is nothing there to consume. Memories with gaps where resolutions should rest; mountains of roads stacked atop each other with no end in sight.

"Fuck." Is all I can manage, burying my head in my hands; it barely comes out as a whisper.

There can be no tearful cry for help, nor raging inferno of hate for someone who's wronged me. Just vacant, confused pain; chipping away from a distance farther than any sea. What did Mortigan do to me? Where is this coming from? Is this what I used to be? That "thing" the voices in my head warned me of. The sudden urge to drink feels like an old friend; back from the grave, just like me.

"Papa?"

I turn my attentions to the little Dungeon-Core in a silly pink hood that had seemingly snuck up my hill; the one that calls me her father.

"Yes, Carrie?" My throat feels dry as I speak; I can't cry, but the swelling feeling in my throat is certainly there. "What is it, sweetie."

"Aren't you hungry?" She holds up her hands; her usual sign that she wants to be picked up.

I take her into my arms, and lift her onto my shoulders in a piggyback ride; her favorite. A warmth begins to fill that empty hole where most of my soul should be.

"I am, sweetie. I just needed time to think."

A giggling machine-girl grabs at my hair to steady herself, asking. "Thinking about what?"

"Nothing for you to worry about." I slide down the hill towards the house. "How was breakfast?"

"Tasty! I had jam on toast, and some porridge." Carrie gently pulls my hair as if they were controls to a vehicle; the Papa-tron 2000, rampaging through the halls.

I feel my lips twitching as they try to form that familiar look; a smile. "Sounds great. Who cooked today?"

"Auntie Ashes; Misses Oro is sleepy." She pulls left, piloting me towards the dining hall. "I helped with the jam!"

I turn as is my little-pilot's wishes. "Well, aren't you just the best little helper?"

I walk into the dining hall just as a good few of the party are leaving; Sammy and Scott being the only two to still remain seated, and with Ashes popping out of the kitchen.

Ashes pops off her apron, tying it to the doorknob of the kitchen door. "Oh, Monster, there's a bowl ready for you in the kitchen; and coffee too, if you're willing to do the brewing yourself. I can barely feel my arms after all this work."

"Thanks." I lean down, letting my daughter hop down; she rushes up to Ashes, smiling wide

"Drawing always makes me feel better after homework." Carries suggests to our tired smith.

Ashes grins. "It's been a while since I designed something... yeah, let's go draw."

I wave to them as I enter the kitchen, grabbing the bowl I spotted by the counter, and preparing to brew my coffee. After a short time of working for my breakfast, I pop back into the dining hall, and sit with its now singular remaining occupants; Scott, sipping at some tea.

"Morning." I say, blowing on my coffee as I wait for it to cool.

He nods. "Morning, Chap. How goes the existential dread?"

"Worse than usual." I sip from my mug carefully; nope, still too hot.

Scott shows a weak smile. "Same; gold coin for why?"

"Hand it over." I extend a clawed hand; my primal flying-lizard brain shocked to life as the precious metal lands in my palm. "Had a visit from Mortigan in my dreams. She pulled a bunch of my earth memories to the surface. All bad."

The tailor nods along. "Sounds like your usual afternoon, Monster. For me, I just woke up for the tenth time this morning... I'll say it for the first time, again; we are not going through the Wyrdwood, no matter what Ariel says."

"That bad, huh?" Finally, the coffee is cooling off; Scott mouthed the words as I spoke them. "I hadn't even realized today was the start of a new week... hey, not funny."

"I find it hilarious." He adds, sighing. "We should head west towards the collapsed pass, then south-east-ish through Fae-Territory. Straight-South gets half of us eaten by a nest of Elder Wyrms."

"So you know what's at the pass already?" I raise a brow at the time-trapped Tailor. "Why not tell us so we can skip the detour?"

"I can't let all of you rely on me 'Scouting' out areas with my various corpses, Chap. One, I didn't see everything the rest of you had seen. Two, it makes me more of a liability if we ever encounter anything that mimics, shape-shifts, or mind-controls; since some fake or controlled me could lead you all to your deaths. Three, the most important one; it's rude to spoil surprises that don't kill us." Scott finishes his tea standing from his seat. "But, the others will want to hear about your dream. Cilla gets mad if you hide it."

"So you knew about that already?" I ask in a groan.

Scott just smiles. "Like I said. It's rude to spoil."

...

Cilla was not too pleased to hear about last night; no one was, actually. Its just that my Handler was particularly peeved that yet another impossibly absurd thing had dropped into her lap. Just as we were about to leave, too. The ship was already off the ground, with Bludbag and its people a good several meters below the bottom of the ship. As was Scott's instructions, we were planning to head straight west towards the collapsed Pale Pass; but not before a loud familiar noise rang in my ear.

*blip*

"Apologies. This is most unprofessional of me; asking this many times while you so busy"

Citrinias had appeared on deck, bowing her head. "However, I really must insist that you come with me to place a Mark of Submission on Haligcarnassus. She has begun casting minor illusions of a smaller version of myself in humiliating positions, and I feel as though I may kill her if this continues."

I feel awkward as I smile in response, rubbing at the back of my head. "There's no need to apologize; its just been really hectic around here. The last few days have felt like months..."

I feel a push from behind; Cilla sighing as she takes her leave, head below deck. "Go on then... but if you two end up 'copulating'..."

She whispers under her breath; knowing only I can hear her. "Tell me all about it."

"Fantastic!"

"What?"

*blip*