Post by Poland on Dec 30, 2014 6:29:21 GMT -6
As Feliks set out from the ballroom, accompanied by Vasile and the thankfully-living Nesia, he tried to consider their assignment without causing himself panic.
The item they were assigned to retrieve was the Master's private journal, which could be found in his private office on the third floor. Given what had happened the last time Feliks had looked at the papers in the Master's private office, and that had only been financial records, he was undeniably nervous about prying into the Master's things again. It really was incredible, how much you learned to appreciate the miracle of sight once you'd had the experience of your eyes being ripped out.
Nesia was with him again, but they knew each other's identities this time. He glanced at her and saw her face, real and solid and visible. She was alive, and as free as anyone could be in the Manor, and Feliks could see this for himself because he had eyes to do it with, and yet here they were, preparing to return to the place where he had temporarily (if not nearly briefly enough for his tastes) lost his sight and she her freedom. They had only the word of a demon that there was a good reason to go there.
Are we out of our minds, to be doing this? Feliks wondered. It was a fair question. On the face of it, everything about what they were doing was so terrifically dangerous that it was almost like a joke, laughable because of the sheer absurdity of actually carrying out such a far-fetched plan. It was practically guaranteed to kill all three of them, or at least to subject them to fates so horrible they might wish they were dead, and Feliks was fully, vividly aware of this.
And yet, even these considerations did not make him hesitate or slow down at all. He knew from experience how much danger they were heading into, but Feliks headed in anyway. The reason was pretty simple: this was the most convincing hope for escape they'd had in a long time. Of course he wanted to get out, and he needed hope, needed it so badly that he was willing to follow a demon's instructions for how to break out of this place. It mattered that they might be about to go home. Feliks missed his own homeland so badly, he thought he might start kissing trees and buildings when he got back. Anything that looked like it could have any chance of bringing about that homecoming was absolutely an option, at this point.
Two flights of stairs and a couple of hallways, that was all that stood between the ballroom and the office. Feliks was surprised all over again by how much easier it was to navigate those halls and stairs with his eyes functional and in their proper places in his head. And from time to time, he checked to make sure that Nesia and Vasile were still with them. He didn't speak up, though, not unless they spoke to him. He was alone in his head with thoughts of his purpose, and let his companions have their own thoughts to themselves.
The item they were assigned to retrieve was the Master's private journal, which could be found in his private office on the third floor. Given what had happened the last time Feliks had looked at the papers in the Master's private office, and that had only been financial records, he was undeniably nervous about prying into the Master's things again. It really was incredible, how much you learned to appreciate the miracle of sight once you'd had the experience of your eyes being ripped out.
Nesia was with him again, but they knew each other's identities this time. He glanced at her and saw her face, real and solid and visible. She was alive, and as free as anyone could be in the Manor, and Feliks could see this for himself because he had eyes to do it with, and yet here they were, preparing to return to the place where he had temporarily (if not nearly briefly enough for his tastes) lost his sight and she her freedom. They had only the word of a demon that there was a good reason to go there.
Are we out of our minds, to be doing this? Feliks wondered. It was a fair question. On the face of it, everything about what they were doing was so terrifically dangerous that it was almost like a joke, laughable because of the sheer absurdity of actually carrying out such a far-fetched plan. It was practically guaranteed to kill all three of them, or at least to subject them to fates so horrible they might wish they were dead, and Feliks was fully, vividly aware of this.
And yet, even these considerations did not make him hesitate or slow down at all. He knew from experience how much danger they were heading into, but Feliks headed in anyway. The reason was pretty simple: this was the most convincing hope for escape they'd had in a long time. Of course he wanted to get out, and he needed hope, needed it so badly that he was willing to follow a demon's instructions for how to break out of this place. It mattered that they might be about to go home. Feliks missed his own homeland so badly, he thought he might start kissing trees and buildings when he got back. Anything that looked like it could have any chance of bringing about that homecoming was absolutely an option, at this point.
Two flights of stairs and a couple of hallways, that was all that stood between the ballroom and the office. Feliks was surprised all over again by how much easier it was to navigate those halls and stairs with his eyes functional and in their proper places in his head. And from time to time, he checked to make sure that Nesia and Vasile were still with them. He didn't speak up, though, not unless they spoke to him. He was alone in his head with thoughts of his purpose, and let his companions have their own thoughts to themselves.