FIREBIRD'S REALM - GROUP TWO

[dramatispersonae]

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[dramatispersonae]

When you step through the rip, you're lost. You don't know where you are, and you don't know where the others are, and you don't know where all the parts of you are in relation to each other (is there a 'where' for them to be?) All there is here is an endless bowl of white sky, over an endless field of white, leaping fire (is there room for a 'you' here? ah--)

This only lasts a moment, and you find yourself again; perhaps shaken, but whole, and somewhere more solid.

It's very hot. You're at one end of a stone hallway, the carpet red, plush and faded. If you've ever asked to stay in her realm before, you'll recognize it – mostly.

On the left are three solid wooden doors, tightly closed. On the right is a bank of floor-to-ceiling glass windows . . . all you can see outside them is white fire and the colours of the rip, fighting each other.

A huge, empty copper frame lies on the ground before you. It's broken in half; it must have fallen from the wall you're standing by. There are words etched into the exposed back: THE CASTLE DID NOT BELONG TO HER.

At the other end of the hallway is a stairwell leading down.