Chapter 1
MintyMimix
Otherworldly Dessert
Summary:
The Pokémon world has been encased in an endless dream — a fairy tale haven where belief is law. But what at point does preserving a perfect dream become a nightmarish obsession?
Just trying to get some sleep at night, a human girl becomes ensnared in a fantasy filled with mythical creatures that are as deadly as they are endearing. What was supposed to be a quick, blissful escape from reality transforms into a prolonged nightmare. And yet, in the few grateful moments where she wakes up and can be with her sisters again, all she can think about is what she'll do when she goes back.
After all, it's not every day that a cult forms around the very people trying to take over the world.
2023-04-11 Update:
This fanfic has been cancelled after much discussion and realization that this work lacked the focus and planning necessary to make it work. Instead, I will be posting various multi-shots that repurpose the characters used here in more meaningful ways.
I am keeping this thread up for archival purposes, but I ask that you go easy on the work if you do decide to read and review it in this state; this was written during a time where I wasn't entirely sure where I was going with the story.
- Minor swearing
- Themes of obsession, idolization and cult-like behavior
- Minor blood / injury
- Scenes of violence and death
- Child & Pokémon neglect
- Mind control, possession, and hypnotic influence
Hi everybody! This fic has undergone multiple iterations over the past year-and-a-half, but I'm finally going to commit to it and keep pushing forward! I'm still decently novice when it comes to writing, but I hope this can still be entertaining!
This story features:
As a disclaimer, the first chapter will receive very few edits outside of distracting mechanical issues (spelling, grammar, formatting, etc.). This is was part of January 2023 Monthly Resolution where I would post Chapter 1 and move forward, taking on the feedback for future chapters without focusing on rewrites.
Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!
This story features:
- Human in PMD
- World-hopping back-and-forth between a human-only and Pokémon-only world
- An adorable Darkrai that has an occasional megalomaniacal streak
- A Meloetta who takes on thinks said megalomanical streak is a guidebook to saving the world
- A very fancy dragon?
- Themes of escapism, idolization, and dependence
- Two fancy dragons?
- Learning the responsibility that comes with power
- There was a miscount; it's just one fancy dragon and a dreamy swan
- The benefits and pitfalls of blind faith
As a disclaimer, the first chapter will receive very few edits outside of distracting mechanical issues (spelling, grammar, formatting, etc.). This is was part of January 2023 Monthly Resolution where I would post Chapter 1 and move forward, taking on the feedback for future chapters without focusing on rewrites.
Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1
Robin craned her neck up to the high heavens and groaned a prayer that she would finally wake up from the awful nightmare. Not that anyone was there to listen, of course. No one exactly rolled the red carpet for her when she woke up lost in the middle of nowhere. It was only by sheer luck that she even stumbled upon some semblance of civilization.
The sun battered down on her sulking figure as she sauntered up scorching stone stairs towards salvation. With a ragged, hoarse exhale, she let the buckets of water on her shoulders rest on her back for just a moment. She finally reached the top step. She swore she could hear whatever gods that brought her to this world laughing at her lackluster athleticism.
She hoisted the pails back onto her aching shoulders as the liquid burdens dragged her down. Just a little longer. She just had to hold out a little longer, and then she could relax. The summer’s glare bore into the woman as she mustered one last tread in the suffocating heat as she entered the village of green, white and pink.
Giant sapient plant creatures permeated every corner. A tree with a smile on its trunk manned a stall selling well-crafted pottery. A bouncing cherry blossom barked off orders to a legion of owls in a fenced off field. Leafy mantids and bulbous bugs crawled in and out wood and paper homes of all different shapes and sizes. She even witnessed a nightmarishly large spider conjuring lightning from its abdomen. Another reminder for Robin that the village was nothing like home, and that any single one of these crimes against nature could end her in an instant.
She shuddered as she weaved her way through town making herself as small as possible. Fear was a powerful enough motivator for Robin to kick into the gear for her final trek of the day. The human girl glided along the path as she gave only polite nods and meek platitudes to the curious glances at her. Yes, she knew stuck out like a sore thumb, but she was just running errands like everyone else, don’t mind her! Pay no attention to her frail body or soft skin; she’s not tasty prey, really!
Her destination came into sight at last: an unremarkable wood and stone house among many Just how she preferred it. Of course, that wasn’t entirely indistinct; she did hang a few trinkets she had made in her spare time along the entryway. Tiny star-shaped cloth ornaments just like how she would make them with her sisters. She figured it would have been more conspicuous if she had done absolutely nothing with her front entrance. Her neighbors had potted plants and small decorations laid out along their windows, after all.
After gently placing the pails down, she collapsed onto her back as she caught her breath. Her eyes caught onto the nice, fresh, cool water that glistened in the sunlight. Must. Resist. Resist the intense temptation to dunk her face in the water right then and there. Just forget about trying to bathe herself or ration out her own drinking supply. Throw caution to the wind and just let loose for once. But she knew her future self would hate her if she tried. At least the very least, she now had a moment of peace where no one was there to bother her.
It had been over two weeks since she had arrived to that strange world filled with deadly alien creatures, and she still hadn’t made any progress on finding a way home. She had gotten lucky early on; the village elder had lent her an old storehouse they weren’t using, and they were kind enough to point her to fresh food and water sources while she tried to get her bearings. But how long would that generosity last? Surely, she couldn’t stay there indefinitely. They’d need to use that storehouse at some point.
She clenched her fist as and let out an exhale. She had to keep digging. Find some way out of this cycle of foraging, fetching, and fumbling to the ground. She had to get home. Yumi was waiting for her, after all.
Her gaze wandered as she stared at the clouds in the sky. Her mind drifted back to her life back home. Their family had always been in a scrappy situation; while her mama could generally make ends meet, things got a bit dicey whenever something broke or one of the siblings needed something extra for school or socializing. Robin had taken up sewing to help thin expenses and fix up hand-me-downs for her younger sister, Yumi. She even helped to mend her old prom dress and started taking on commissions for cosplays as a side gig. Of course, it helped that it was something she enjoyed doing. Her mama would sometimes jokingly call her a little old lady — while poking fun at her interests in nerd culture in the same breath.
Robin chuckled to herself as fond memories flooded back. When they were all little, she and her sisters would sit beneath the stars on warm Sunday evenings — wondering if they could one day reach out and capture them. Her older sister Sofia tried to find images online and print them out, but it was never the same. That was when Robin declared that they would take on the challenge the only way they knew how: by making something in their likeness.
It took until Yumi’s eighteenth birthday party, but they had finally managed to achieve it in the form of a dress. The three of them had worked tirelessly on it: Sofia provided the patterning and measurements, Yumi helped with the cutting, and Robin performed the pinning and sewing. The outfit’s appearance mimicked a night starry sky coursing with purple and blue to give the illusion of space dust. The dress was long enough to go down to her ankles, but short enough not to drag on the floor. It was perfect. In celebration, Robin had even decided to wear it for an upcoming Halloween party the three of them had been invited to.
She looked down at herself in the present, still clad in that same dress. Out of all the nights that she had been sent to this world, it had to be that one. Still, despite how flashy and impractical the dress was for manual labor, it had still been a nice reminder of what her family had made together — of how they depended on one another. She had to get back as soon as possible. Every day spent in this monotonous hell of a routine was one more day they lost not just a source of income but a part of their very lives. But she couldn’t find the information or even have the energy leftover at the end of each day to figure a way out of her mess.
Her view of the soothing blue sky was replaced with the sight of a loud pink mantis way too close for comfort. “Rough day, silky?” a perky, grating voice echoed above.
She winced at the hovering monster. “No rougher than normal,” Robin responded as her eyes averted the creature’s face. If she didn’t think about it too hard, everything would be fine. Don’t think about the time she had already lost trying to get herself settled, and especially don’t think about fact that a giant mantis with sickles that could crush into her into tiny bits was looming over her as though she were a defenseless insect—
“Eh, sounds like the story everyone else has been telling these days,” the mantis replied, lifting herself back up and giving Robin some very welcomed breathing room. “Really, though, you’ve got so much drippy drip on you that I’d think you were wet paint if I didn’t know any better. Unless you are, and just haven’t told me.”
Robin let out a sigh of relief now once she had a bit of precious space. Her face scrunched in confusion at the mantis’s words. "Drippy drip"? Did she mean her sweat?
She picked her weary body off the cobblestone floor as her shaky legs dragged her back up to a standing position. Robin blinked as she realized the height difference between herself and the pink mantis — the girl had towered over the creature by a solid three feet. Granted, a two foot tall monster was still nerve wracking, but at least she had some advantage over it, right?
“Why would you wear something so draggy if it’s going to make you so drippy, anyways?” The mantis girl asked, cocking her head to the side in a motion far too fast to be human. “I mean, the starry gown is super pretty, but is it really something you want to wear all the time?”
It was a reasonable question, but the issue with answering it was just how unreasonable said answer was — because the clothes were goddamn magic.
Even though she had been wearing the dress for weeks, not a single scratch, hole, or wrinkle had been on it ever once gotten on it. She inspected it just to double check she wasn’t insane. Yup, still the same as always. Not even any of her sweat stained it, despite how sweltering it was.
It wasn’t that she didn’t try to make herself some newer, more flexible clothes. It was just that they all quickly became torn up, ragged, and gross. But the dress she came in, as impractical as it was, remained spotless no matter how much she wore them out — including the underwear, thank goodness.
“It’s… my best outfit,” Robin finally responded, trying to avoid looking at the pink mantis any longer than she needed to. She recalled them having a weird name. Laura-tis or Lure-and-tis? Something like that.
The Lauren-tis shrugged as she leaned forward, peering into the entrance of Robin’s abode and inspecting every little nook and cranny of the yard. She took particular interest with the little knick-knacks Robin had dangling above her entryway.
Robin let out a sigh. She supposed she ought to double check and make sure the rules of the world didn’t change on her all of the sudden. She leaned over to one of her buckets of water and dabbled the sleeve of her robes into it. When she raised it up for inspection, it remained completely dry. Rather being half-soaked and dripping, the water just slipped entirely off as though there was nothing to cling to. Why did it have to be a costume dress out of all things? The number of times she tripped over herself and had to fan herself to keep cool was too high — but given that they were seemingly indestructible and how quickly her alternative options failed, she wasn’t left with much other choice. At the very least, it had sentimental value.
“What’s up with these, anyways?” The Lore-end-tis asked, poking at the dangling star ornaments at Robin’s doorstep with her claw, “They look just like your robes! And just like sis too!”
Robin’s eyes widened as the creature touched them. She worked hard on sewing those, and that girl was going to cut them up! Robin opened her mouth to protest, but only a dissatisfied mutter squeaked out. What if she made the beast angry by telling her to stop? Those sickles could slice her in two, and she did not feel like becoming shredded paper today.
“I-I made those myself,” she finally said, balling her hand to hold in the frustration of her powerlessness. “They… help me sleep at night.”
Something about Robin’s words caught the Lar-antis’s attention. Her antenna and petals perked up as she chirped, “Really? These itty bitty twinklies can do that? Stave off nightmares?”
“Uh, sure, if you wanna think about it like that,” Robin replied, just wanting to get the pest away.
In a way, she supposed they kind of did. No matter how unbearable her current situation was, how terrifying the monsters around her were, or how unbelievable it was that she was even there to begin with, those little ornaments helped her make her feel a little more at home. It was a family tradition to craft them, after all. Just another reminder for her to find a way back to her real home.
The mantis’s eyes twinkled and shimmered like the very stars she stared at. “Nightmare-warding charms?! Oh man, I gotta tell sis!” She finally announced, bouncing in place with glee.
Robin exhaled. The Lawn-antis was always a peculiar one, even amongst the many monsters of Suino Village. She heard the stories of how she would always splatter paint on walls, dance around when it was time to sit down, or stick her tongue out whenever was asked to perform her responsibilities. The mantis apparently does eventually get around to doing her duties, but she considers it an offense if she can’t take things at her own pace.
Robin was finally ready to head back inside when the Lure-antis perked up and said, “Oh, by the way, Master Mienshao wanted to see you tonight. Don’t make her mad; she gets really throw-y when she’s steamed!” With that ominous warning, the pink mantis creature skipped away, even more cheery than usual for some reason.
Robin’s breath hitched. Knowing someone specifically wanted to see her was already nerve wracking, but after hearing that thinly veiled threat? She gulped. Guess she ought to see what this “master” wanted if she wanted to live.
— ZzZ —
The human should have been here by now.
Conducting the summoning ritual in secret was no easy feat. Her enemy’s eye loomed over as though it were a god peering down and judging the peons below. Discordia scoffed. Nothing more than false power built on a foundation that would crumble beneath them, and she was going to be the fracture that tore it all down. For that to happen, though, she needed her champion — her human — to be by her side. An agent able to take on what she could not without attracting the omnipresent gaze of the enemy’s forces.
Except the human. Wasn’t. There.
Everything went off exactly as it should have. She put herself to sleep, fabricated a hero’s call,and created a fake pathway to guide the hero’s spirit to her. She had perfectly mimicked the same method used to bring humans to the pokémon world in the past, and received a near-instant response in tow. Her prize had been in reach.
The lingering, dreaming human soul that bounded its way towards her. With the utmost tact and care, she had guided it along — narrowly avoiding Cresselia's monitoring — and managing to anchor the soul to the most powerful energy source in the world. Obviously, that would have been herself. So when she woke up from the dream ritual, she had fully anticipated a human to be right in front of her, ready to save the world from this prison of an existence it was trapped in.
And yet, they were nowhere to be seen.
Perhaps she had missed something in her search — the past heroes were all turned into pokémon, after all. She shook her head. She would have sensed their mental signature regardless of the body they inhabited. But all she saw in her psychic gaze were the regular rank and file — as mundane and asleep as ever.
There was another possibility: if the soul didn’t anchor to her, then it must have gone to her benefactor. She clicked her tongue. She figured as much. Discordia thought she had finally surpassed their mentor’s level of power, but it seemed that she was still weaker than them. No matter. If her summon ended up with them, the human would be in good hands until she arrived. Her benefactor was far too generous for their own good. All she had to do then was return to the base and slightly amend her plans, except…
“This is Gardevoir; reporting signs of an unusually powerful move being used nearby. No sign of the perpetually, but they are likely still close by. Will continue investigating.”
…An annoying pest had tracked her down.
Discordia sighed. It would have been so easy to crush him beneath her heel like the insect he was, but he and his “comrades” were clever. They had all their little systems and failsafes. No doubt that the moment his organization stopped receiving reports, they would unleash their full might. Loath as it was to admit, she doubted she could handle all of the Ancient’s Association at once. For now, at least. Once she had her champion as an ally, they would soon all realize just how wrong of a side they picked.
She suppressed her psychic signature and donned her usual disguise as she waltzed into Grassknot City. It was her typical alias: “The Siren”. A wandering performer journeying across the lands as she used her beautiful singing voice to scrounge for tips. She had no family or legacy to speak of — she was blind and orphaned as a young child — but she used her passion and talents to make ends meet. A sob story that would bring any of those naive, sleeping sheep to tears when they heard it.
And just like that, even when she was in plain sight, the Gardevoir didn’t notice a thing. She smirked underneath her disguise. Perfect. Performance was a natural talent of hers, after all. But before she could make it to the big stage, she would need to impress the locals.
She stepped in the nearest tavern with the grace of a goddess as she prepared her treacherous scheme.
— ZzZ —
The smell of lavender and incense greeted Robin as she stepped foot into the dojo. The massive room filled with blue and red cushions had added some vibrance to an otherwise bland square of brown and floral paneling. Were it not for the towering vaulted ceiling touting the importance of this place, one would be forgiven for mistaking it as an unfinished home with screen dividers as placeholders for walls. Moonlight bathed in through the thin slits of the windows while candles gave a warm, gentle glow to the training section in the center.
Master Mienshao — a white and purple ermine of some sort with flesh sleeves — looked utterly exhausted and beaten. It was an oddly common sight, Robin found; the villagers often had bags underneath their eyes or an unnatural hitch in their step. At least, as far as she could tell. Fantastical and terrifying creatures were not exactly the easiest to read.
As it turned out, the master needed help putting the children in class to bed. Her students, though generally well-behaved, were restless. They were apparently out of the “lookalike powder” they usually used (whatever that meant), and many of the children outright refused to go to bed citing a fear of nightmares. She could understand one or two being scared, but so many? It was bizarre.
Alright. She just had to put to bed a bunch of magical creatures who could conjure flames and shoot laser beams from their mouths. And they were all rowdy kids with minimal self-control. Easy! Sure. Great. Fantastic. Wonderful!
She tried her best not to let it show in her face, but her expression still twisted with exasperation. At the very least, Mienshao didn’t seem to mind or didn’t care; maybe she was just too tired. Then again, so was everyone in the village, now that she thought about it. Even the Lurantis (that was the name!) she saw earlier had less pink in her petals and spring in her step today than when she first arrived weeks ago.
Whatever, she needed to come up with something. She briefly recalled when Yumi had been in grade school. Getting the energetic girl to sit still and sleep during nap time was an ordeal, but there was always one thing that got her relaxed.
“Maybe… I could tell a bedtime story?” Robin suggested to the teacher.
Mienshao hummed. “Very well then,” She cleared her throat. “Children! Stand in attention, now!” She shouted with a stomp. Almost immediately, they all scrambled and stood in line as she glared daggers.
Robin thanked her stars she didn’t have for a teacher.
Mienshao slid back into her gentle persona as she smoothly said, “Our guest would like to share a story. Please sit still and listen.”
With some minor grumbling, the children all took a seat on the blanketed floor as they looked up at Robin with a mixture of curiosity and vexation. Wasn’t that the second star-touched one? She had been seen around the village from time to time, but had mostly kept to herself. Some whispers rumbled between the children. Maybe she was some merchant from a far-off land with grand tales to tell from her journey. Maybe she was just some bum and had been coerced into this. Or maybe she was actually one of the three Sages, and this was the first of her gifts!
Mienshao cleared her throat. The children quickly quieted down as they continued to speculate the identity of the strangely clothed pokémon that their teacher brought in. The intrigue had kept their attention on what was otherwise a mundane visitor.
Alright, Robin, pick an easy one. Something you won’t mess up trying to tell. The human cleared her throat. “There once was a shepherd boy who, out of boredom, cried, ‘Wolf!’...”
Many of the students were captivated throughout. Some stared more at her dress than her face, but at least they were hushed and listening. One by one, they each began to curl up and fall asleep on the matted floor.
“And so, the old man put his arm around the boy and told him just what happened: ‘No one believes a liar, even when they’re telling the truth.’”
The children’s tiny snores murmured as their little tummies went up and down with occasional twitch of a limb. Robin couldn’t help but find them somewhat adorable. They were monsters, sure, but they were still kids.
Still, her efforts weren’t quite enough. A tiny, bud-like plant with a face beneath its twirled vines had been very much awake as they shivered in place. “I-I-I don’t want to go to sleep,” the bud-child murmured, curling up as best as they could, “T-t-the nightmares will get me…”
Robin hummed deeply in thought as she looked on with sympathy. Poor kid. She looked down at her starry dress as she remembered the conversation she had earlier — the half-truth she told that Lurantis about her star ornaments.
Excusing herself, she walked back to her abode, took one of the ornaments, and returned with as gentle of a grin as she could muster.
“Here, I have something that could help,” Robin said, leaning down and placing the star ornament directly in front of the bud-child. “If you keep that by your side and make a wish, the stars in the night sky will protect you from all of those nasty nightmares.” She giggled to herself. It was the exact same thing she told Yumi when she was a kid.
That story sealed the deal. The bud-child gazed upon the charm as though it were some miracle artifact. They quickly nudged themselves a bit closer before snuggling into it with all of their heart and soul. After a couple of silent minutes, they soundly fell asleep.
Robin smiled. Having a cuddle buddy was a universal experience, she supposed. If Yumi were there, she’d probably make some snarky remark about how she was still stuck doing the same thing she did all those years ago. As she watched the children snooze in dreamland, something odd about the situation did catch her eye: that bud-child was the only one who hadn’t stirred in their sleep. Robin shook her head. Maybe she just didn’t know what the tells of these creatures were.
“Thank you, Miss,” Mienshao whispered as relief washed over her face, “I am rather curious about where you heard that tale from, but we can speak more on that later.” She softly smiled at the girl and asked, “I’d like for you to come back to the dojo for the next few days, if you do not mind. These kids deserve to enjoy more restful nights.”
A pin dropped in Robin’s mind. It clanged on the floor, echoing throughout the headspace as naught but breath and stuttered processing occupied her brain. She was being asked to march straight into the lion’s den on a regular basis. Forget that!
She gulped as she looked over at the teacher again. What would she do to her if she said no? Sure, the mink was just shy of a few inches shorter than her, but she had clearly powerful muscles throughout those arms and legs. Not to mention her idle stance resembled more like a martial artist’s battle pose than someone loitering around! There was no possible way she would even make it two steps out the door if she tried to run away!
Trying to hold back every bit of her fear and reluctance, Robin sucked in a breath through her teeth and solemnly agreed. Guess it was time to start counting her days without incident.
Much to her surprise, Robin’s new routine ended up being straightforward. At the start of each day, she’d fetch fresh water from the stream, take stock of her foodstuffs, and gather additional berries as needed. She found it bizarre how it only took a few of those blue ones to fill her up for a meal, but figured it must have just been more alien nature stuff she didn’t understand. After her lunch, she would work on sewing another star ornament, wash herself up, replace her hay bedding as needed, and then head to the dojo at dusk to tell the children a bedtime story.
She gave silent thanks to Yumi once again. Raising her little sister gave her a wide array of memorized fairy tales to pull from. Still, Robin wasn’t a full library. She’d have to start figuring out how to come up with her own stories once she got through all of the classics.
And it wasn’t just children she had to appease, either. From the fourth day onward, some of the parents started coming in and listening as well. It took every ounce of effort not to stumble, stutter, and stammer over her words as the judging gazes of those monsters peered into her very soul waiting for their prey to make a fatal mistake.
Even stranger was that someone would inevitably ask if she was going to bring another star ornament to share. It was practically a game to guess which kid would want one next. By the seventh day, some of the parents even started to ask for them. What was up with that? She briefly considered teaching the adults how to make some themselves just to get them off her back, but that would mean spending way more time with these creatures than she would have liked.
At least the kids were happy with the ornaments. They clutched onto them as though they were plush dolls — fitting, given how small some of them were — and soundly they slept from then on.
When she woke up to start the fifteenth day since her new routine began, she received a knock on her door from Mienshao herself.
“Excuse me, Miss Sage,” she greeted with a bow, “Pardon me for visiting at such an early hour, but I wanted to ask if I could, er, borrow one of those charms as well?”
Robin slowly blinked as a prominent frown etched onto her face.
“You see, Lurantis had taken one earlier,” 'What.' “And while I scolded her and asked her to return it, she has been so much happier since; I have never seen her petals so vibrant before. Not even the other Sage had managed that.” 'What what.' “So I was wondering, if, perhaps, I may be able to try one as well?”
Okay, she needed to put a stop to this ridiculousness. She clutched her doorway to hold back her irritation, “First off: why do you keep calling me ‘Sage’? Second, what do you mean she ‘took one’? Did she swipe it when I wasn’t looking?”
Mienshao lowered her head with a weary sigh. “Regrettably, the peculiar one had done so, yes,” she admitted, lowering her head, “I offer my sincerest apologies for such reprehensible behavior, and will try to return the charm as soon as possible.”
Robin sharply inhaled. “No, no, it’s fine, really,” she said, trying her best to de-escalate the situation, “Just make sure to tell her not to do it again and we’ll call it even.” The last thing she needed was to draw more attention to herself by stirring the pot. The longer she lingered around these monsters, the more chances she had to kick the bucket.
“We thank you for your kindness, Sage,” Mienshao replied, raising her head up with an apologetic smile. She still didn’t answer her first question. “The peculiar one certainly has energy, but it is not boundless, nor is it invincible. Nightmares whittle us all down. That is why I believe there is, perhaps, more to your visit than I anticipated. Verity to match Acuity...”
'Glad that tells me nothing, teach.' Robin thought to herself. “I’m just trying to get my bearings and then find a way home, that’s all,” she replied, not even trying to understand what the ferret thing was even talking about. She untied one of the hanging star ornaments and offered it to the teacher. “Just go ahead and take one. I’ll just make another two for myself.”
The hairs on Mienshao perked up as her expression brightened. “Thank you, Miss Sage; I will honor this gift as though it were a family treasure!” She said, gently clasping her paw around the ornament and bowing her head once more. “May the rest of your day be filled with blessed dreams, and I hope to see you at the dojo again this evening.” She waved her free paw and walked away.
Robin placed two fingers to her forehead as she let out a groan. Was she going to need to make a waiting list for these things now? Sometimes it didn’t even feel like any of them were listening to her stories; they were waiting to see who gets the next ornament. Did she end up in some sort of cult?
Robin walked back into her shack as she collapsed onto her hay bale of a bed. Why did she end up stuck in this weird world? Why was everyone suddenly so interested in her? Why did they keep calling her "Sage"? And what did she mean by "the other Sage"?
She just wished she could wake up and be back home again away from this nightmare of a reality.
As that thought passed through her mind, she swore that she could see a wispy shadow in the corner of her eye. Its long, thin legs extended towards what looked like an old, ripped cloak with a spiked collar before capping off in a ghostly plume billowing from its head. When she raised her head to get a better look, the shadow was gone.
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