Spirit's Resolution: The Invasion of Mana

Netta blinked five times in quick succession at the goblet the lady was handing her, staring at it for a second before gingerly taking it in her hands. She sniffed the liquid, as if suspicious that it might be poisonous. After all, the woman here was just talking about mana and how it wasn't welcome here. Well, Netta had no idea what Mana was, but it was apparently a foreign thing here and prevalent where she came from. So...whatever this magic liquid was, it wasn't what Netta was used to seeing. She looked up at the woman, Claire, for a moment. She looked kind of similar to her other mother. She had the same, magicky-feel to her that Netta recognized.

Netta drank from the goblet. The whole thing. She handed it back and licked her small, pink lips and blinked a few more times. The taste remained on her tongue, but it wasn't a bad taste. She felt much better now, too. The poison had really started to get at her. Speaking of which, Netta snatched a knife out of her small pouch she wore on her waist and poked a tiny hole where the poison had entered her system. She channeled a little bit of her stamina, like her mother taught her to, and the poison left her body, turning into a small, hardened ball of green outside her skin. Netta snatched the ball and threw it into the marsh.

"I'm ready." Netta confirmed happily enough.

"Thanks," Wolfgang responded, taking the goblet and peering into its contents. It was probably against anyone's better judgment to drink a strange green liquid offered by a stranger, especially after another stranger already put her lips on it, but it was arguably better than to try to let some foreign toxin run its course. After all, he had the saliva of women of more questionable repute in his mouth before. He swished the liquid around in the cup a little before downing it, hoping that he wouldn't wake up the next morning with an itch.

"Y'know a certain druglord I worked for at one time used to have a pimp cup just like this one. Only his didn't magically fill itself with antidote," he remarked, handing Claire her goblet back. He still remembered Claire's words from before, about how she was supposed to turn him and the others to the authorities. He wondered what would become of him and whether or not following her willingly was a good idea. Still, he couldn't just run away without knowing where he was going, and he was used to being in outnumbered ambushes. He would just have to face the situations as they came. "Yeah... let's get going."

A pimp cup that magically filled itself with liquid. Was that what her goblet was to this man? "I wouldn't be much of a pimp if this were a cup of that caliber. I would only have one hooker and...I don't think he would be cut out for the job," she spoke loosely of her closest acquaintance, the only person she really spent time with on a daily basis. They would come to meet him at some point. He should have actually been getting off work soon. The sun kept on descending; they were losing daylight. Authorities were more rampant during the night time due to the increase of crime in the city. She direly wished to avoid conflict before she got a chance to speak with the council. She already had a plan in mind to save these people from what would otherwise be certain death.

"Since we're all ready, let us move on," Claire spoke tersely but in good spirits, allowing her cup and wand to vanish from sight in the blink of an eye. The group followed her on along the wooden walkway before reaching a fenced in landing at the base of some wooden stairs. They were kept in beautiful condition. Claire wasted no time in ascending with her acquaintances behind her. Reaching the top of the stairs would be a shock for everyone but her. Instead of more marsh or a woodland village, there was a massive city with streets of asphalt and buildings made of steel and stone, some modestly sized while other skyscrapers pierced the air, aiming for the clouds. There were neon lights in store windows showing that the establishments were open. Sidewalks paved for pedestrians and roads filled with the roar of automobiles. Stoplights guided the flow of traffic while people waited patiently for their chance to cross the busy streets. Other people were less rushed, doing some window shopping as they strolled along at a leisurely pace with friends, chatting happily. The only thing separating the group from the city now was a dirt parking lot and a large metal archway through which they could see the modern marvel.

Claire's heels crunched against the leaves scattered across the lot. There were several cars parked but she didn't seem to be looking. "I do my fair share of walking. I figured why waste money on a car when I wouldn't use it anyway?" she remarked casually, waving the others along. They meandered through the archway into a paved area that welcomed cars but had enough room for pedestrians to reach the sidewalks leading farther into the city, and the city itself seemed to go on for miles and miles.

Claire came to a halt here in this paved area. "This is the great city of Myridan. It is not even the largest city in Lyreth, yet its size is naught at which to scoff," she explained as she gazed around. Not many people were coming to walk in the marsh today.

As they walked toward Myridan, the young sorceress continued to try and cycle her mana. It certainly wasn't the most effective process. She could feel her energy returning to her, sure, but it was slow-going at best. Pitiful, she thought with a frown. Back in Archaea... no, back in Alidaire she had been quite capable! Next to no one dared to mess with Aaron Strider, but the foolish few who attempted to make off with the selfish dancer or his goods were quickly put into their proper place. Nastasia couldn't help but sigh at the thought. She had been powerful once...

She quickly snapped out of her reverie of days that already seemed long since passed the second the small party reached the top of the stairs. In the distance stood Myridan in all of its totally foreign glory. The manager gaped. Everything––every tiny atom in the distance––seemed straight out of fiction to her. These giant buildings that seemed to be made of steel, the roads as black as the night sky, the crowds of people milling about or trapped within some sort of mobile mechanical monstrosities, and the lights. Nastasia quickly took off her glasses, breathed on them, then rubbed them with the end of her shirt. When she put them back on still the image remained, the impossibility of it all burned forever first into her retinas and then into the archives of her memory.

"Gods above," she whispered, trying to take all of it in at once without being overwhelmed. A valiant effort, but quite clearly a futile one. The sorceress noticed herself lagging behind Claire and the others; the former mentioned she had little use for a car. "A car?" she questioned, looking to the carriages that ran without horses and, obviously, without mana. She watched one speed off. Eyes filled to the brim with questions, she tried to phrase one but found herself unable. Nastasia shook her head, squeezed her eyes shut tightly, pinched herself, and opened them again. "Nope," she murmured, gazing past Claire to continue taking in Myridan, "definitely not dreaming..."

Now that was not something that would exist in her world. Netta had started shaking when they entered the city. The sights were too strange, too foreign for a simple girl of the forest like her. She couldn't understand what was here. What were these giant things scraping the skies? What was this noise? Out of everything she could see, hear, and smell, it was the sound of rumbling that disturbed her the most. She felt the ground shake beneath her as well, this was unnatural. Way too unnatural.

Netta backed away from the others, shaking her head from side to side. Her body was visibly shaking now, she had to keep her hands wrapped around herself to stop herself from breaking down in a hysterical fit. "I'd like to go back to the marsh now, please." Netta said, her voice a little higher pitched than normal. She was frightened. More than just frightened, terrified. Terrified of the strange world around her that she did not understand.

There were no trees here. No dirt, no grass, nothing. It was all stone and other rock she had never seen before in her life. Not to mention the stench. It smelt like hot oil. Netta remembered coming across a spring of boiling oil once in the forest. Her mother had showed it to her once, said it was too dangerous to go near it, lest she be badly hurt or even die if she touched it. This place smelled exactly like that. Natalia looked just about ready to run back to the marsh, no matter what might wait for her there.

Wolfgang would have thought a city with a whimsical name like "Myridan" would have been something more primitive yet regal, having strong establishments of social castes, noblesse oblige and all that crap. Instead what he was witnessing was a metropolitan system of a living community, much like Paragon City. However unlike Paragon City, Myridan was much cleaner and taken care of, without visible blood stains or graffiti on the pavement and walls. There was no infestation of rats or diseased derelicts rummaging through garbage, no betting rings being hosted in abandoned buildings staged around orphan fight clubs, and the subway stations looked like they were in working order with actual transportation... not like Paragon's subways. Paragon's subways was considered one of, if not the most dangerous places to be due to the notorious Subway Mafia. The Subway Mafia was a ruthless criminal organization that spread its roots throughout every inch of the underground, specializing in smuggling illegal drugs through strategically assembled sandwiches, passing them down in lines.

The subway kingpins ruled the underground of Paragon with an iron fist, to the point where they drove every member of the uncorrupted police out of town. If one stepped foot in their territory, they were always greeted with the most terrifying threat: "Would you like your cheese toasted?" That single phrase would be the last thing anyone would ever hear before they caught their deaths, right before the sound of the "rat-a-tat-tat" of the bloody hailstorm of bullets. The official garb of the Subway Mafia was unmistakeable... those aprons they wore to keep the blood of their enemies off their clothes... the fearsome visage of their visor caps so the light would never touch their cold-blooded eyes... and then those plastic gloves... disposable, just like any regard they had for human life. No, Myridan did not know true terror in the form of cutthroat gang wars, and the sound of screams, the baying hounds, and the never ending smog that dipped the city into an eternal night. All the chaos and the discord were replaced with the noise of traffic and palaver of the mundane citizens; the peacefulness bothered Wolfgang to an extent where it made him a bit uncomfortable. Someone could have tried to spit on him or at least flipped him the bird, but it seemed like everyone was busy living banal lives.

As he traipsed further with the group he had fought the creatures with, Wolfgang noticed one of the girls that had also apparently come from another world look on with fright at the sights he considered to be commonplace. She must have come from a simpler world... the kind of world Wolfgang thought he would be in before he had stepped into Myridan, and therefore she must not have been used to the idea of technology and systematically constructed dwellings. Wolfgang wasn't the best at comforting lost girls, but it was worth a try. "Hey," he called to her. "I think I heard you saying to Claire your name was Netta, right? I'm Wolfgang. Look, you got nothin' to worry about, we're in a city. It's like any village or settlement; it just looks different is all. If you're feeling a little dizzy or tired, I can carry you on my back if you want. Just hang in there."

City? Village? Settlement? Netta didn't know these words or what they meant. If anything, Wolfgang was only confusing her more than she already was. Natalia swallowed the lump in her throat, or at least tried to, and shook her head at him. He was trying to be nice. She knew that. But it wasn't really working. All she wanted to do was go back into nature, back to her home. This wasn't fair. Why did she have to pop into a world she couldn't understand.

She'd be dead otherwise. That thought gave Netta pause. If she was back in her world, back in her forest, she would have died from that fall. Even if she somehow survived it, her home was destroyed and her mother nowhere to be found. Netta swallowed again, this time managing to get the lump out of her throat so she could breathe, and nodded her head stiffly. Netta approached Wolfgang. He was much bigger than her, and wouldn't have a single problem carrying her with how little she weighed.

"Thank you," Netta murmured after she clambered onto Wolfgang's back. She shut her eyes and covered her ears with her hands, in hopes to drown out the sounds of the city. The less she saw of all this foreign stimulus, the better.

"No, this is certainly no dream," Claire remarked in response to Nastasia's comment. The woman was about to move forward, but Nastasia seemed transfixed, and Netta wound up being afraid. Of course she would be. What sort of world did she come from? Certainly one without skyscrapers and cars. One without horns blowing and people chatting. It must have been a quieter world than this one was. The thought of it sounded nice to Claire. But just because this world was loud and more modern didn't mean it wasn't a nice place. She would have to show this girl that...as long as she could keep the girl and the others safe. Fortunately, Wolfgang was able to coax Netta onto his back so they could move on.

"Let us make haste. The quiet of my townhouse will be more comforting than being out here in the midst of the city," Claire spoke tersely before heading off towards the sidewalk with the others in tow hopefully. Nastasia seemed pretty intent on gawking at all the technological marvels. She was from a completely different world too, it seemed. Only Wolfgang was unfazed entirely. At least one of them was used to this lifestyle. Claire thought about calling a cab to make their trip quicker, but that would be bad for Netta, not to mention her townhouse was pretty close to the marsh. They had to push through crowds of people on the sidewalks and cross a few streets, but they finally made it to a rather well-to-do part of the city with elaborate townhouses lining the well-kept street. The sidewalks were completely free of debris and were in better condition than the rest of the city. There was no trash anywhere and it even smelled cleaner. The street had a beautiful median with grass and flowers and even trees lining it. It was so wondrous. The streets were less crowded, too. Claire loved living here because it was quieter than other places in the city.

The group walked by several townhouses before they came to a stop in front of one in particular. It was three floors and the exterior walls were white in color, flawless and resting upon a black brick foundation. The door itself was made of a rather dark wood, polished and free of chips. A black gargoyle head knocker rested upon it below a peephole, but no one would be peeping out now. Claire produced a key and stuck it in the gold keyhole. Turning it, she was rewarded with a click and pushed the door inward, stepping inside to let everyone else in, and closed it once they were all safe inside.

It was definitely quiet in Claire's house. And dark. The woman set about quickly remedying that by turning on the lights, flicking a switch on the foyer wall to light what wasn't a normal light, but an electric chandelier, the little fancy bulbs shedding decent illumination in the immediate area revealing a tidy foyer with a little bookshelf filled with books and a few paintings on the dead end wall opposite the doorway, paintings of a cityscape, some odd still life image with a lamp and a bowl of fruit, and one that could possibly be a painting of the marsh. Claire had scrambled through the right entryway. A couple more clicks resounded through the place as she turned on some lamps. She called for the others to join her in the next room which happened to be her living space. Black leather couches rested upon a clean hardwood floor. There was a black leather recliner and a couple of side tables made of bands of black metal that twisted and were designed to look like vines with thorns. The black base lamps with ivory lampshades rested upon them, and they were otherwise free of knickknacks aside from a couple of pictures and coasters on which to set drink glasses. The coffee table was of the same design as the side ones, and it sat upon a black and green rug portraying elegant floral designs--black and blood red roses with dark green and black vines. It must have cost a lot and it was kept in good condition just like everything else in the house so far. Against the wall was a large wooden entertainment center with a large flat screen television sitting upon it. In the little shelves that surrounded the space where the television was meant to go were more little trinkets, pictures, and some movie cases. On the opposite wall and to the right of the entryway in the corner sat a little black desk with a strange lamp on it with a green lampshade. It looked like something stolen from a library. There were text books, notebooks, and papers with strange writing on them sitting upon the desk. It must have been Claire's personal work space....well regarding whatever it was that she did. To the left of the entryway, the room opened up more into a bar area. There was the bar itself complete with wooden barstools with black leather cushions, and then there was the shelf behind the bar with holes and shelves lined with perfectly good booze and various drinking glasses from shot glasses to wine glasses and everything in-between.

"I welcome you to my humble abode. You are free to make yourselves at home. You will be my guests for as long as you are in this land. I can't leave you out there with nowhere to go and no money to your names."

The city and all of its wonder had hypnotized her. Although she had next to no time to take every inch of her scenery in, Nastasia did her best to commit everything to memory. This place––this Myridan––held a wealth of inspiration. If she were to ever return to Archaea (and at this point she certainly hoped that would be a possibility) the sights and sounds of this world could give her an edge. She would hold a vision much unlike anything anyone back home could ever dare to dream of. True, she didn't have the means to present it herself, but surely Aaron could...

Aaron, she pondered, a slight frown overtaking her face. What would the dancer do in her absence? Sure, he likely would not realize her disappearance for some time, but Helena and Cas would no doubt find out eventually. How long would they search for her? Would she be replaced? She could practically feel the color draining from her face, her world suddenly spinning round and round, a horrible future looming over her.

Of course she nearly walked into a streetlamp, shattering her musings with a smack. Nastasia's cheeks flushed. "M-my bad," she muttered, rubbing her head and keeping up with Claire once again. The sorceress sighed.

As she had to keep reminding herself: there were much more pressing matters at hand. Could she even return home? Claire seemed perfectly confident that the young manager and the others would not be treated well if discovered. Without anyone else's help how could she possibly hope to leave this world? Sure, she was a talented witch back in Alidiare, but she never even thought about attempting such a feat. Transportation magic was complicated––far more complicated than her own spells which were, admittedly, fairly simplistic in nature.

Even if she could pull it off, how would she know where to go? She knew little about where she was in the grand scheme of things. It would be so easy to botch an important spell and be lost again with no power in a potentially more dangerous environment! Nastasia's mouth fixed into a grim line. There was no way to solve this problem as it stood––she and the others would need help if they desired to return from whence they came.

The manager's green eyes flicked over to Claire, who was busy opening up her home to them. Despite every feeling in her body telling her not to, Nastasia smiled. Thank the god for the Thaumaturge and her kindness! Had they awoken to anyone else surely their fates would have been sealed in a less than favorable manner. Still... the sorceress doubted that this lone girl could resolve the issues that plagued her now and until she knew the answer to all of her questions. She didn't verbalize such thoughts, however, and looked to the bar when it came into view.

Yes, that's exactly what she needed.

"Would you mind if I helped myself to something to drink?" she asked, trying to steel the tension rising within her that threatened to nest in her throat. "It's been a long day already," she added quietly, fingers lacing together in a force of habit.

"Nice place ya got here," Wolfgang remarked, eyeing around the entire room and hallways. It was an understatement, as this house made Wolfgang's already shitty apartment look like a war-torn third world country that had been bombed up and depleted. He turned his head over his shoulder Netta, who was still on his back. "We're here, you can rest now." He leaned back in front of the couch to help ease her down, as he didn't intend to carry her around for the entirety of their stay. Now that they weren't being attacked by the local wildlife and were in a noise-free environment, he figured good time to start getting priorities in order.

"So Claire," he directed at her. "What exactly do you plan to do with us? You said something earlier about informing a council of this whole ordeal. For whatever reason you said the likes of us weren't welcome here. Exactly what reason would that be, and what would the authorities do if they found us? I mean, I'd tell you how I got here if I knew, but I don't remember a single thing from last night. One day I was in my own city, minding my own business and the next I wake up in a world I've never even heard of." It occurred to Wolfgang the consideration of not even wanting to return to Paragon City, with the state that its society was in, yet there was also the fact that there may have been people in this world that might want him dead just like in his home world... at least Paragon City was a world he was familiar with.

His encounter the night before with Vergil had been a complete blank to him, unable to recall a single detail of what had happened or ever taking on the job to track him down. There was a chance that it was merely a forgotten dream for his mind to conjure up a form of sense for his actual reason for being here, and there was a chance that his memory had been wiped of something of crucial importance. Wolfgang could try to fit in the society of this world, as it wasn't as foreign in appearance and mannerisms as he initially thought, but the doubts that deterred such an attempt was the fact that he was unlike Claire in which he did not use magic. Apparently there were other people like her, and he wouldn't bet against them being able to sniff out his lack of supernatural abilities. As of now, he was at the complete mercy of his host.

At least he wasn't alone; the other two girls seemed to cross over into this dimension in possibly the same way he did and without any knowledge of it. They were all just as lost as he was, but perhaps more with the fact that Netta couldn't grasp the concept of cities and cars. They all had the ability to fight however, something Wolfgang expected to be put to the test possibly a countless number of times in the future. Then there was Claire. For what reason would she show compassion to complete strangers, especially ones not even of her own world, and invite them to her own home when she didn't know what kind of people they were? Wolfgang would have assumed it was common sense in more than just Paragon City to know that such generosity was asking to get oneself killed or taken advantage of. He kept it to himself though, not wanting to bite the hand that fed.

"Thanks for taking care of us, by the way. I didn't think people like you would ever exist... at least not where I came from."

Netta immediately jumped to her feet upon being let down on the leather. She spun around and glanced at the black furnishing with a little curiosity. She had finally opened her eyes and removed her hands from her ears once she realized that they were in a quiet place. This was still all too complicated for her to take in. She wanted to run out, she didn't feel at all welcome or "at home" as Claire asked them to be. Home for her was nature. A forest. This was no home. This was a prison. Walls in every corner Netta could see, and only a single exit, maybe more somewhere else? If this was a true home, she could come and go as she pleased, wherever she pleased.

Natalia kept her mouth shut. If there was anything her mother taught her about other people, it was not to speak her mind so directly. She might be uncultured, but she wasn't uneducated. That, at least, her mother was able to give her. Netta quickly realized that Wolfgang was speaking to Claire about their situation. Her words from earlier certainly were strange, especially to her. She had no idea what a council was in the first place!

Netta slipped her hand into the pouch at her side and picked out a small nut. An acorn, to be precise. She quickly snapped it in half in her teeth and chewed half of it while storing the other half back into her pouch. If she was chewing on something, she would feel less nervous and be able to listen.

"By all means, Nastasia. Feel free to peruse the bar or you can go to the kitchen for something. There's tea, juice, milk, and bottled water in the fridge," Claire responded quickly, gesturing back towards the foyer indicating that the kitchen was on the other side of the townhouse through the other entryway in the foyer. Claire herself sat down in the recliner with a long sigh, kicking off her heels as if she had been waiting all day to do so. She listened intently to what Wolfgang had to say, and his concerns were very valid. In a world where most of the citizens would have killed them on the spot, they chanced upon one of the few that had mercy and showed them hospitality of all things. It was obvious they had no idea how they got to this realm, and they had no idea where to go from here. They were harmless. They could defend themselves, but there was no ill intent in their souls. Claire could sense that much.

"Yes, tomorrow morning I will be going to the Hall of Prestige to speak with the Cordelian Council about some trespassers from the Manaverse. I will not mention that I am giving them sanctuary. I will mislead them, saying they ran off farther into the marsh. I will send them on a wild goose chase, one that will last them until at least I am able to train you all to develop a Psyche," Claire clearly explained her intentions. "If I can assimilate you, there will be less of a threat. You wanted to know what the authorities would do to you? If they didn't beat you to death, I'm sure they would lock you up and let one of the two Executioners have you. Either case leads to death, as sad as that may be." Claire opened her eyes here and threw a sidelong glance at the wall, a frown set upon her face. There was no place for Mana here.

"Listen, before Lyreth, many of us were treated the same in the others worlds in the Manaverse," Claire offered. "We Spirit users were feared and treated like monsters because of our power, even though we were not hostile ourselves. There was no mercy and rampant discrimination. And now that's reflected here, except no Mana users are supposed to be here. There is no precedent; you are the first. And to think you do not know how you got here..."

Getting the green light, Nastasia nodded quickly in thanks and proceeded behind the bar. Despite busying herself with perusing the different bottles of liquor, her mind remained focused on what Claire was saying. Everything appeared rather straightforward. Well... all except for one part. Just how did Claire plan on training them to develop Psyche? Nastasia shook her head to herself, deciding to keep her mouth shut until she had finished making her drink and Claire was finished.

Spotting some raspberry-flavored Vodka, the young manager took it and poured a rather copious amount of it into the glass she had picked out for herself. Without much trouble else, she located a large bottle of lemonade and filled the glass the rest of the way; the two main bottles returned to their places, she glanced down at the drink for a moment. As much as she wanted to just use her mana to stir the beverage––as she would have done back home in any case––she soon opted to grab a straw from the bar and used that to mix. She plopped a few ice cubes in afterwards lazily, absentmindedly wiping up the few drops formed on the counter with her sleeve.

Normally she would take better care, but she couldn't be bothered now. Besides, she really needed this drink. She ignored the straw, favoring to take a rather generous gulp of the sweet-sour liquid. The sorceress sighed. "At least it tastes the same," she whispered, eyes training on the ice cubes as they floated, ever so slowly melting to cool the drink. She stared for the longest time, processing everything that Claire had been saying––she hadn't missed a beat.

"That'll keep us safe?" she questioned, emerald orbs still absorbed on the ice for a moment before forcibly ripping them away. Her gaze was unreadable––not quite severe, but also not lacking sincerity. ". . . Is it even possible?" she continued, her voice rather quiet, but not shaky. It was as controlled as she could make it for the moment. This much was obvious.

Netta didn't understand half of what Claire was talking about, but the end part about them being treated like monsters she could. It was sort of strange, actually. Netta didn't see Claire as a monster; in fact, Netta thought she was a nice person. How odd that anyone could call anyone a monster based off of something no one really understood. It just didn't seem right to the little hunter.

"But that's just not right!" Netta suddenly blurted out, unaware where her thoughts had been taking her all this time. She seemed surprised at her own outburst and had to pause for a few seconds to grasp onto her thoughts. "I dunno what menna or spirit is," she physically fumbled over the word she had never used before, "but I know who people are. They're just people. Just like squirrels are squirrels and deer are deer. They don't fight each other unless it's about territory or food. How can people fight over little differences like what color water they drink?" Netta pointed to Nastasia and her concoction. Netta could smell the stench of the drink from where she stood. Netta would recognize that smell anywhere. Poison. The woman was drinking poison of all things. "Isn't that what makes us special?"

Natalia glanced from one person to another. None of them seemed at all as surprised by any of this as she was. Or if they were, it was for the wrong reason. Netta shook her head and frowned. These people weren't right in the head. "Mother always told me that it doesn't matter who a person is or what they do. We all belong to the same race, so we should treat others like they are family. How come I feel like she and I are the only ones that know this?"

Wolfgang stayed silent while listening to Netta's unrealistically optimistic ideals and couldn't help but crack a smile over the irony. If only things were truly that simple, Paragon City would have been an entirely different place, perhaps one worthy of its own name. It was admirable to see someone so hopeful and with pure morals; he had his own too. Despite all the times people fought him with the intention to kill, Wolfgang never took a single human life in his own hands. It wasn't because he thought it was the right thing to do, but rather the fact that he believed he never had the right to do so. There was no good or evil to Wolfgang, as they were just words people twisted to justify their own actions; a social construct.

He never had to think about the subject because there was no point to him. In Paragon City, beliefs held little to no weight, and all that mattered was surviving the next night. His instincts had brought him this far, and right now they were telling Wolfgang to stick with Claire. It didn't really matter why he was wanted dead or what this "mana" was and how it applied to him as much as the sole fact that he was wanted dead period. Wolfgang didn't care if he had to be assimilated to be like Claire's kind, whether that meant getting some kind of fruity tattoo or being taught to wave glittery wands and tossing pixie dust. If it meant being able to sleep without keeping one eye open, then it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

"Well whatever you or we have to do, we should probably get on that ASAP," Wolfgang advised Claire. "I don't want to be a burden to where you have to house us and feed us everyday like this was a homeless shelter. That is, a homeless shelter that's actually supposed to be a homeless shelter. Back where I'm from homeless shelters were actually a front for corporate ill-dealings. To top it off, it was a tax write-off for them."

Claire ceased her reclining and sat up a bit. Was it possible to truly get these people to develop a Psyche and thus gain access to wielding Spirit? There really was no telling. If she told most scholars and researchers now they would probably think she was crazy, but she wasn't the first to propose this idea. Others in the past had touched upon the possibility of teaching Mana users to use Spirit. Perhaps if they were able to use the energy they didn't understand, there would be less conflict between the people of the two energies. Unfortunately, no prior research was ever conclusive. Claire stood up and moved over to her desk, looking down at the papers. "Is it possible? Well I will certainly be trying even if I have to study every hour of every day. We must find some sort of solution."

A hand found its way to the space over Claire's heart. It was her own hand, and she was slightly moved by Netta's tirade of hope. Netta had a valid point. There was no point in fighting, yet the Mana users had started the conflict. None of the Spirit users wished for a fight hence why they segregated themselves in an alternate dimension. Why else would they have given up everything they once knew? "Netta, your words both ring truth and yet are naive. The world, no, the universe does not work that way. A universe without conflict--one where everyone treated everyone else as if they were family... That is an ideal. One I fear that we may never reach."

She turned to face Wolfgang as he spoke up as well. She caught sight of his smile, most likely a reaction to Netta's words. Regardless, he also had a valid point. She was glad these people were so sensible. "That's sad to hear. There are hardly any shelters here. Maybe one in each of the major cities, and they are funded by the Cordelian Council themselves--no corporations are involved. What kind of government mingles with big business? That would be a travesty," she explained with a shrug. "You guys should get used to being here. If you don't want to be a burden, you can always get jobs. I mean I can give you money to get you started, but you'll have to take care of yourselves in the end. Your housing will be free. And there's plenty of food and drink here. It's more along the lines if you need anything special, you're on your own."

Claire paused and thought for a second. She was going to be very busy for the next couple of days. She had a lot to plan regarding her meeting with the Cordelian Council and with the first step in her experiment to get these folks to develop their own Psyches. "Listen, I have an acquaintance. I can't remember if I mentioned him or not, but I'll have him show you around the city tomorrow until I get back from the Ancient Capitol of Cordelia where the Hall of Prestige stands. I guess I'll have to take the speed train to make it there and back in time to undergo our first bout of training. I have to work tomorrow night at 11 so my schedule is going to be tight. But yes, I do believe his hands will be more than capable of getting you familiar with your new surroundings."

So she wasn't sure. Nastasia's grip tightened on the glass, but no other physical change made itself known. The young manager slowly took another large gulp, allowing herself to savor the taste. She almost shuddered. It made her insides feel exactly the way her outsides felt right now––bitter with a hint of numbness. Gaze down on her drink once more, the sorceress threw a sidelong glance to Claire. At least her determination to find a solution was comforting.

She finished her drink and set her glass on the bar. For a moment she was tempted to go mix another––this time blueberry-flavored, for she had also noticed some blueberry vodka sitting back there––but she refrained. Nastasia needed to be numb, not inebriated. She knew her limits and her habits. If she poured another drink right now it would be mostly vodka and that wouldn't lead anywhere good fast.

"This acquaintance of yours," she began after a moment, crossing her arms over her chest while leaning against the bar. "Is he as understanding as you are? He won't throw us to the authorities or executioners, will he? I mean, no offense, but you said it yourself. We're not welcome here." She paused. That last phrase felt so awful in her mouth––back home people welcomed her and her crew with open arms. People begged to negotiate with her because it meant a chance to see the Great Aaron Strider perform! Now she was the equivalent of some vermin or monster crawling from garbage. Sure, she had never been royalty, but this was a long way to fall even from her modest position in life. Nastasia's eyes shifted. "And... on the other hand... do you think we'll ever be able to return home?"

Claire had to stifle a laugh as Nastasia's question reached her ears. "My apologies. It's just that my acquaintance would never do anything of the sort. He is very much like me, and yet also very different. But he would not serve you guys up to the authorities. He knows it would be the last thing he ever did," Claire explained, clenching her fist at the last part with a certain light like fire appearing in her eyes. Oh yes, he would be sure to think twice before doing that, granted he wouldn't be so apt as to get anyone killed, even if they were Mana users. The next question Nastasia had was one that hurt her heart, for she did not know what to say.

"I am positive you can get home. Someone on the Cordelian Council is sure to know how to navigate dimensions. At least one of them has inherited the ability to create pocket dimensions, so you should be in good hands. Once we get things figured out and you're deemed not a threat, we should be able to send you back home," Claire offered optimistically. She was sure that they would be able to leave this place, and the Cordelian Council, no matter how little of a threat they found the group, would want them gone as soon as possible. The worst case scenario would be that the Cordelian Council wouldn't care about the group's harmlessness, their willing assimilation, or their lack of ill intent and have them all killed anyway. If that were the case...

Life would be very interesting as a fugitive.

Go home? Natalia thought for a moment about those words. Certainly staying here was out of the question. She couldn't stay here! Not in a world she couldn't even begin to comprehend! All she knew was her forest, and while she so desperately wanted to return to it, Netta had a sickening feeling that she may not be able to after what happened that night. She still remembered the crack of lightning and the crunch of wood beneath her feet. Netta shivered at the memory.

"I'm supposed to be dead," Netta confided, finally. She kept her eyes on her feet, "I fell during the storm, three hundred feet in the air. I'm not even supposed to be alive right now. How could I ever go back? My world has rejected me."

Nastasia nodded, closing her eyes and taking a small breath. So they were safe as far as the acquaintance was concerned and would be able to get back without too much issue. Or at least so it seemed. Underneath the same numb calm the manager was holding together, anxiety lurked––if it weren't for Netta's little confession, she might have allowed it to break free, but the sorceress shook her head.

"But you're not dead," she answered quietly, turning her emerald eyes on the bow-wielding woman. "And we don't know why we were sent here... perhaps there is more to it than we know." Her lips twitched downward. "I refuse to believe that our coming here at the same time from different realms is mere coincidence."

"Coincidence or not, does it really matter?" Wolfgang pointed out, sitting himself on the couch and resting his head back. "Either way we're here now, and I don't think getting back is gonna be an easy task... if we can even go back. I guess it might just be the fact that I'm not really that attached to my homeworld, or that I never left behind anything worthwhile but... I couldn't care less where I'll end up. Gotta make the best of what you can, and speaking of which I'll look into some jobs in the morning. No point in sitting here doing nothing and waiting for something to happen." The others could feel sorry for themselves all they wanted, Wolfgang was a man of action, and he believed learning to adapt was crucial for survival.

"Don't get me wrong," he added, raising his head back up to face the others. "I'd be interested to know what's really going on and what's gonna happen, but I'm a little more concerned with establishing a safe ground at the moment." Wolfgang then proceeded to let out a yawn, the exhaustion from the day having caught up to him.

"What an odd coincidence that would be," Claire murmured to herself before directing her gaze to the sensible Wolfgang. "Wolfgang has the right idea. Now is not the time for hypothetical scenarios and theories. You guys are here now, so may as well get a bit comfortable because we don't know how long you'll be here. As sure as I am that you will be able to return home, the time it will take to achieve that goal is unknown," she explained solemnly, both her words themselves and her tone completely sobering. "I'm subscribed to the Myridan Report, the local citywide newspaper. It runs early in the morning. It'll be waiting on my doorstep for when you wake up, Wolfgang, if you're interested in checking the help wanted ads."

Claire got up and stretched as she made her way towards the bar. Beyond it was a short corridor leading to a stairwell. There was also another room in that corridor that turned out to be the public bathroom. "How are you guys feeling? Would you like me to show you to your rooms? I'm considering retiring myself. It'll be a few hours before my acquaintance makes it here and I do not feel like waiting up for him."

"Yes, that would be nice," Nastasia answered, standing back up and uncrossing her arms. Truth be told, she didn't very much want to sleep. The sorceress had too much on her mind at the moment to afford her the ability to rest. She knew, however, that attempting to solve a currently unsolvable issue would be a fruitless endeavor. She would do herself much better to try and get some sleep––deep down she knew without much doubt that the day to come would require her to be at her best. "Please," she added, falling somewhat in line by Claire's side. "Whenever you are ready."

"Rooms?" Netta wondered aloud. What did Claire mean by that? Netta had no idea what a room was, but whatever it was, it didn't sound very nice. She understood that everyone seemed to want to sleep, but how could they do that here? There was no forest here, no owls to lull them to sleep, nor the sound of wind and leaves to calm their senses. All that was here was the rumbling of whatever was outside and enclosed boundaries. She couldn't sleep here! Just the thought of it drove her mad!

"Can I go back to the marsh? Find a tree to sleep in?" Netta asked, not really knowing what she was asking. "It's too closed off in here, I feel like a caged bird. And I don't know how to sing."

"Sleep sounds good right about now," Wolfgang concurred. There was a whole day ahead of them, and Wolfgang wasn't planning on trying to make sense of their entire predicament without a full eight hours. His eyebrow elevated at Netta's persistent desire to return to the marsh. She must have come from a world without civilization, living her life as some sort of savage. Wolfgang initially pitied her, but in a way he envied the simplicity. He tried to explain the purpose of a house as best he could in words he would hope Netta would understand. "Netta, we can't just let you go back to the marsh. People of this world live in these closed-off homes to protect themselves from the outside. Homes protect people from the rain and dangerous predators, and it provides humans a place to return to when it gets too dark. Believe it or not, it's just the way people have gotten used to. We can't just sleep outside in a forest because it's too dangerous with wild creatures, and sometimes dangerous people. If you leave this house then you might get lost out in the city, so you should stay here with us for the time being. Maybe in time, you'll get used to the idea of sleeping in a house. Just give it a try."