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<Vallel> ::several weeks have passed since the time-stop spell took affect. Weeks in which the sun never set and the winds never moved. It seems, as Val has said, almost pointless to keep track of "real" time, since it seems to always be just a little past three in the afternoon.:: <Vallel> ::experiments with putting an apple through the barrier tied to a string have proved pointless, as the string would break rather than releasing the apple. Pushing an apple *halfway* in to pull it back had the same affect, only now what you had was half an apple:: <Glossaria> ::shaking her head, consulting a row of figures as she peers at the sundial on the window ledge with a magnifying glass:: Information is never pointless, love. And I don't want to overlook a possibly critical bit of information out of discouragement. ::she sighs and gives the half-apple to the Staff to plant in one of the Tower gardens:: <Glossaria> ::murmuring to herself with a small frown:: And I *must* be overlooking something... <Vallel> ::sighs:: I just can't see what the point to this is at *all*. I mean, won't they eventually have to drop the spell? At which point we come out... well, right now? <Glossaria> ::closes her book and turns around:: Yes. But the relative time we experience in the interim is no less real. ::nods to the window:: Time out there is passing at a rate of 10 seconds to one of our weeks. If they manage to maintain the spell for the length of a day-- which, with a group of mages, is perfectly reasonable-- approximately 8,640 weeks, or 166.15384 years, of our time will have passed in the interim. <Vallel> ::blinks:: I think we'd be a little old, by then. <Glossaria> Yes. And I have no wish to burden our descendents with the difficulties of their ancestors in such a... direct fashion. <Glossaria> ::murmurs:: Barring the difficulties of a severely limited breeding pool.... <Vallel> ::snorts:: And space... as one of Nacheyla's Children, I know how fast a few children can turn into hundreds of great-grandchildren. <Glossaria> ::shakes her head, frowning:: This is very frustrating... we're at the very seat of Erdian's power on this plane, His Tower. ::pats a wall:: Granted, I am not His high priestess, but... I *must* be overlooking... something... ::trails off, frowning at her extended hand:: <Vallel> Frustrating is not the word. *Boring* is the word... and it's only going to get worse... * Glossaria seems to pay no attention to Vallel. Her expression distant, she turns to face the wall, putting her other hand flat against it, and then leaning her forehead against it. <Glossaria> ::whispering:: Big brother? <Glossaria> ::chewing on her lip:: He's... concentrating... I'm not entirely certain it would be wise to disturb him at this juncture... * Vallel looks like he's going to say something, then thinks better of it. He absently draws a chair up near the wall so Gloss can sit while she talks. <Glossaria> ::frown deepening, she takes a deep breath and tilts her hand in the peculiar gesture used to call the Staff. One of the bobbing little lights appears, and she does it again, and again, until several of them float in the air beside her.:: <Glossaria> ::addressing the little lights:: I need to speak to the Tower, please. ::she turns back to rest her forehead against the cool stone as the blue wisps take up formation around Gloss's head:: <Glossaria> ::muttering to herself:: Ah... better. Big brother? We appear to be trapped within this time dilation. Can you offer us assistance without endangering your defenses? <Tower> {You are protected.} <Glossaria> ::shakes her head a little:: "Protected" is a relative term. No direct harm can immediately come to us, but we *will* die as a result of this spell if we cannot escape it. <Tower> {I would not harm you.} ::sounds a little hurt:: <Glossaria> ::patting one hand soothingly against the stone:: No, of course not! The danger is not from you, but from time and mortality. If we do not escape this spell, we could well be dead of advanced age before sunset. ::frowning a little:: And if they take such measures with *you*, I fear they mean no good to the rest of the city. <Tower> {They are *not*. I am. Protecting the worshippers. He commands.} <Glossaria> ::frowning a little:: "They are not"-- what? <Tower> {This is their intent.} ::a brief flicker of terrible forces, like an earthquake... in her mind's eye, Gloss sees the Tower cracking like a dropped plate and collapsing into rubble:: <Glossaria> ::gasping, closing her eyes against something she can't shut out:: The timestop spell-- it's a holding action? It's defensive? <Tower> {He commanded. There was not enough *time*.} <Glossaria> ::letting out a breath:: Sweet Erdian... <Vallel> ::raises his eyebrows, and looks at his wife:: Gloss? ::his voice is soft, as to not intrude if she is not finished:: <Glossaria> ::turning her head a fraction, speaking quietly to Vallel:: The orcs didn't do this... He did. They intended the Tower's utter destruction, and He stopped it. ::turning back to face the wall:: And so... impasse. You keep them from destroying us, but... ::frowns in thought:: wait... Brother, what is the spell's focus? Your bones, or the earth beneath? <Tower> {It is all around. All that is considered mine.} <Glossaria> ::blinking slowly, thoughtfully:: At this time differential, our senses would not be sensitive enough to notice any seismic activity... has the spell touched you yet? Do you shake? <Tower> {I will not. They cannot cast through the barrier. The spell is old and gone before it will touch me.} <Glossaria> Hmm... before Mistress Zoya came to you, you were capable of moving of your own volition... can you, still? <Tower> {It was a test. It is possible. Not recommended. My roots go deep now.} <Glossaria> ::taking a deep breath, a tear welling up and rolling down one cheek:: There must be a way to save you and win us free to aid the others... I can't lose my entire family in a day, I *will* not! <Tower> ::exceedingly puzzled:: {You wish to go?} * Vallel puts a hand on Gloss's shoulder. "It'll be all right, love..." <Glossaria> ::moving her head a little, pressing her cheek against the stone:: It would not be appropriate to say I *wish* to go. You are my home, and you are in danger. But I have friends here, and broader family ties. Friends offer mutual aid and support... I cannot stand by in safety when they are in deadly danger, and still call myself their friend. And Loria, and my nieces-- they will *not* be alright! <Tower> {Send you out. But you cannot return. Until the threat is gone. I will not hear you, outside me.} <Glossaria> ::nods, reaching a hand behind her to take Vallel's hand:: I understand. I love you, Big Brother... please, keep yourself-- and Realia and Setta and the gnomes-- safe. ::squeezing Val's hand:: He can send us out, but we'll not be able to return until the outside threat is eliminated. * Vallel looks a bit nervous. "You're ok with that?" <Glossaria> I meant what I said... they're *my* family, too. And my friends. Mistress Zoya has gone to the Abyss to aid her friends... how can I sit by when I might help them? ::cocking her head, regarding him worriedly:: Are *you* okay with that? * Vallel pats her hand. "I... " He chews his lip. "It won't *hurt* you, will it? I mean, you've never been cut *off* from the Tower before." <Glossaria> ::considers carefully:: The Tower made me human at Mistress Zoya's order. I have always lived here, but I have always had... independent existence, if you will. It should have no further effect on me than, for example, you would be affected were Loria imprisoned. And I will *not* be cut off from Lord Erdian. <Glossaria> ::thoughtfully:: If it comes to it... the Hall is likewise sacred to Erdian, though less obviously so. We might find refuge there if the building still stands. <Vallel> ::nods in agreement:: Well, it's not the sort of thing I want to experiment with, love. I don't know what I'd do without you... <Glossaria> ::squeezing his hand, speaking softly:: You would live on, most likely experiencing a strong sense of loss and emptiness as you mourn my death. Unless the danger were immediate to both of us, in which case we would gain first-hand knowledge of the afterlife together... ::bites her lip:: Um... you meant that rhetorically, didn't you? * Vallel laughs suddenly, shaking his head. He kisses her soundly. "I do love you." <Glossaria> ::smiles a little, tilting her head to accept the kiss:: I love you, too. But I believe your concern is baseless; every test I have conducted indicates that I am to all intents and purposes human. The Tower is my family and my home, and I retain a certain... understanding of him, but I do not rely on him for my continued existence as the Staff do. <Vallel> ::mock sternly:: If you fall over dead when we leave, I'm going to be *very* mad at you. <Glossaria> ::meekly:: Yes, love. I will no doubt be chagrinned as well... and I promise to be contrite. ::glances at the window:: I'm certain there are *other* quite probable risks out there, however. My question stands: do *you* wish to do this? * Vallel swallows hard. "Loria's in trouble... and Meghan and Tarri... and..." He takes a deep shuddering breath. "It was moot, when we had no way out... and there's a certain lack of urgency, being stuck in an eternal minute." <Glossaria> ::nodding:: True. ::patting the wall:: We have time to decide upon our course of action... where, for example, would you wish to go? I'm not certain of the logistics of our release... there may be some temporal backlash-- a certain amount of displacement, not physical harm. <Tower> {There is only one when and where.} <Glossaria> ::blinks, startled, looking back at the wall:: There-- ::blinks again:: Hm. That statement bears some interesting implications concerning the nature of the time stream... but-- which when and where? The one within, or the one without? <Tower> ::with a shimmer a blonde-wood door appears just to the side of Gloss's hand:: <Glossaria> ::takes a deep breath, looking from the door to Vallel, her voice soft:: Love? <Vallel> ::looks at the door:: Um... can he hold that there long? We should pack, maybe? <Glossaria> ::looking back at the wall:: Big Brother? What is our departure window? <Tower> {This when will last for one hour in the time within.} <Glossaria> ::nods, reluctantly lifting her hand from the wall at last, trailing her fingers over the stone:: We have an hour. You're right, we should pack. But pack lightly. We may encounter heavy resistance upon our departure, if they're still besieging the Tower. * Vallel nods. "Let's move then." He opens the normal door out of the study. * Glossaria nods and takes a last glance back at the pale door before following her husband out. |
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