Glenda's surprised yell ended as she fell into the lake with all the grace of a sky-diving hippopotamus. She crawled her way to shore, spitting out water and grumbling all the while. Her grumbling stopped as Alice appeared from the treetops in a fluttering blue dress, surrounded by a cloud of butterflies. She floated gracefully to the ground, her black shoes gently touching down only a few feet from Glen.683Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo0kAT4R6Il
"Show-off," Glenda muttered as she wrung out her shirt.
"I told you to simply let the transition happen." Alice said as she smoothed out the folds of her dress. "Fighting or forcing it only causes problems."
"I never have this problem entering the Dream Realm," Glen glanced around for a few moments before asking, "So, where are we?"
"Wonderland" Alice said. "This place is called the Vale of Tears. Come; there's much to see."
It felt like the Dream Realm, in a way; Glen could feel reality around her was slightly more malleable. It swirled slightly around her rune, almost like it wanted to be shaped. A bubble universe, Glen guessed, or a pocket dimension, similar to that within her door. The difference was that in Wonderland, Alice was the Creator. Trees bent and stretched to create bridges for them. Waterfalls flowed upward, carrying them on giant leaves. Stone lanterns with glowing crystals erupted from the ground, lighting dark areas as they passed.
Their path led to a train station at the edge of the woods. It was an old steam-locomotive manned, much to Glen's surprise, by what looked something like turtle with a cow's head.
"Alice! So good to see you again!" The creature said in a too-cheerful voice, rubbing its front flippers together. "I see you brought a friend today."
"Indeed I did. Miss Glen, this is the Mock Turtle."
"Charmed, I'm sure." Glen said, still not over the appearance of the creature.
"It's a pleasure to meet you! Now, how can I assist you today?"
"Two tickets for the Automaton Eerie." Alice said, presenting the Mock turtle with two balloons.
The Mock turtle took the balloons, a look of possibly delight on its face as it tied one balloon to each ear. "All right then; climb aboard, and we'll be on our way!"
Alice and Glen climbed aboard the train's carriage, a poshly decorated car with soft red cushions and fuzzy blankets folded neatly on each seat.
Alice sat primly in her chair while Glen plopped unceremoniously across from her.
"So," Glen said as the train jerked into motion, "Where are we heading?"
"To see an old friend." She said, the tips of her mouth curving ever so slightly upward. "He has suffered much from the darkness. I think he will be quite helpful to you, if you can get him to talk."
"If?" Glen asked, brow furrowed.
"It will be simpler to just show you."
The trees and streams of the Vale of Tears were soon gone, only to be replaced with clockwork towers and mechanisms. None of it made much sense, though Glen supposed it really didn't have to. There was another aspect to the area that quickly caught her eye; the teapots. They were everywhere, some endlessly pouring out dark brown liquid, others spewing clouds of steam.
Despite the amount of cogs, springs, and other artifacts from a steam-punk enthusiast's wet dreams, there wasn't much functional. Flowers and ivies were growing throughout the area, apparently doing quite well despite all the abandoned metalwork. It reminded Glen strongly of an abandoned junkyard, slowly being reclaimed by nature.
The train carried Alice and Glen through all the corroded clockwork, eventually coming to a halt beside a ticket station that stood before a great clockwork castle that was falling into ruin.
Glen scarcely had time to exit the rail car before a rather rugged-looking rabbit with crude cybernetic legs shoved past her. "Move it, missy!"
"March Hare!" Alice admonished. "Such poor manners!"
The March Hare glared at her, but only for a moment, as though suddenly realizing who had spoken. "Oh … Alice! I, er …"
"This is my friend, Glenda Adams Soleil. She's come a great way to speak with you."
"She has?' The March Hare repeated, eyes wide. "How fascinating! Are … are you here for tea?"
"Uh …" Glen said, glancing at Alice.
The March Hare seemed to suddenly catch himself. "No. No more tea. Not with him."
"March Hare …" Alice said, a sad look on her face.
"Not even if he served tarts!" The March Hare snapped before slamming the railcar door shut. In moments, he was gone, heading back the way the train had come.
"Okay," Glen said, raising an eyebrow at Alice. "What the heck was that?"
"It's a long story." Alice told her. "Come along; the Hatter will tell you everything."
They entered the clockwork castle, only to find the plant-life was even more prolific. Even the tile floor had spots where grass had broken through.
"This place was once as green as the Vale of Tears." Alice told her. "Seeing it recovering does my heart good, but there is still much to go. Even then, I fear something of what it became will always be present."
"Some scars never heal." Glen said absently, spinning a rusty cog.
"Indeed."
Alice led Glen to the very heart of the council. Glen expected some kind of throne room, and was somewhat thrown when all the room contained was a single long table laid out for one heck of a tea party. Light poured into the room through a massive hole in the ceiling, and the floor was mostly grass with a few remnant tiles, but other than that, the room seemed oddly well-cared for, even jolly in a way. Much of this was the table decorations: several lovely table-clothes were laid out, on which rested a antique store's worth of teapots and plates bearing sandwiches, biscuits, and tarts.
The hunched form of a gangley large-nosed man sat at the far end of the table, staring moodily into his teacup. It was hard to get a measure of his full height, but Glen could tell he had at least a few feet on her. His clothes were fancy, if tattered, and a tall hat rested on his mostly bald head, a card stuck in the band indicating its size.
"Late, late, late." Glen heard the man mumble as they drew near. "It's not fair, it's not civilized. I sent invitations and everything. Why are they so late?"
"Hatter," Alice said, "This is Glen Soleil."
"Soleil? Sunshine? There's no sunshine here." The Hatter fixed a bloodshot eye on Glen. "No room either! No room for strangers or troublemakers or would-be heroines."
"We shan't be long." Alice said, taking the puffy blue recliner to the Hatter's right.
"Don't worry," Glen added as she sat down in an old wooden rocking chair to the Hatter's left. "I'll clear out when your guests show up."
The hatter seemed to sink further into his gangly frame. Glen could make out what appeared to be a metal cog sticking half-way out of the man's back. "They … aren't coming. They never come. I've apologized, in person and by post, and even set out my best tea, but still they refuse."
"I don't mind if they hate me." The Hatter continued, "For what I did, I deserve no less. I just want us to have tea again, like the old days. It was so grand, I tell you; the jokes, the stories, the embarressing anecdotes about relatives thrice-removed."
"And I suppose the tea was good too," said Glen.
"It was magnificent!" The Hatter said excitedly. "Earl Gray, Oolong, Chamomile … it was a veritable cornucopia of refinement!"
Just like that, all the energy left the Hatter. He slowly hunched over again, a sad look on his leathery face. "And now, it's just me."
"I know how you feel." Glen said, thinking of Teria and the friends she was still waiting to one day rejoin.
The Hatter leaned forward, his nose nearly touching Glen's. "Really? You experimented on them, tortured them, denied them their tea? Did they then betray you to the very forces that would see your world destroyed?"
"Um, not quite." Glen said, feeling more than just a bit lost, "But my actions have separated us, and not a day goes by that I don't think of them, and wish I was back."
The Hatter stared at her for a long moment before sitting back in his chair. "Well then, perhaps you are invited after all, Miss Sunshine. Tell me, what brings you here in the company of my dear friend Alice?"
There was a note of sarcasm in the Hatter's voice when he said 'dear friend', but Glen decided it would be better not to comment. "I'm told your world was attacked by something that used a foul black goo to try and destroy you."
"The train, yes." The Hatter shot a scornful look at Alice. "Admitted by one of our own, no less. A ruffian who nearly killed us all."
"I've said my apologies, Hatter." Alice said, her face impassive as she lifted her teacup.
"That you have, that you have." The Hatter said begrudgingly. "But Wonderland is still damaged from its presence. Even now, the darkness lurks …"
The Hatter's gaze shifted from side to side, his cloudy blue eyes narrowing. Without warning, he grabbed a teacup and slammed it down just as something small and dark shot from between two teapots.
"Ah! Aha!" he said, a wide yellowed grin on his face. "Caught the little devil! Quick, fetch the sugar bowl!"
Glen looked hurriedly across the table before grabbing a small sugarpot with the image of an eye on the lid. "I got it!"
"Good! I'll take two lumps … no milk, please." The Hatter said, gesturing briefly to the cup in front of him before turning his attention to the one in his hand. "Now take a look at this, Miss Sunshine."
He pulled the glass lid from one of the cakes and turned it upside-down before letting the cup fall into it. The teacup made a clink as it hit the bottom, but Glen's eyes were on the small black bit of ichor.
"Looks simple enough, doesn't it? Just a little blob of darkness, certainly not enough to ham anyone. That's how it starts, little bits like lies on the tongue of an evangelist, flitting about between the shadows and the cracks. Like that, they are harmless … but give them enough time, and enough of them will join together. You can hear them; whispers in your ear, like a tiny devil on your shoulder pretending to be an angel. It's influence is subtle at first, pushing you to do things that are just a little wrong, just a itsy bitsy bit questionable."
"Are you saying they're … it's everywhere?" Glen asked, her eyes on the little blob that was currently sliding around the bowl.
"And in everyone."
"Wait a minute," Glen said, :I've been around a long time, and I've only encountered this stuff recently."
"Ah, but do you always listen to the devil on your shoulder? Even when you do, I'm sure you take it was a grain of sugar."
"Salt." Glen said automatically.
"In tea? Revolting." The Hatter shuddered before continuing, "And most people will only trust it so far. It needs something more to form a corporal form; it needs someone to open the door for it."
Memories of Alan Wake's cabin flashed through Glen's mind. The strange air of surreality, similar in a way to that that existed within her door. In the case of the Glen's door, it was a small bubble reality between reality and the Dream Realm, but in Alan Wake's case, perhaps it was reality linked with somewhere else. "Tell me more about the door."
The Hatter brought a hand down on the table hard enough to rattle all the silverware. "How am I to enjoy my tea with all this talking, talking, talking? I've given you plenty to think about for today, so unless you want to contribute something to this conversation, you can go!"
Glen opened her mouth to argue, but stopped at a subtle shake of Alice's head.
"A pleasure as always, Hatter." Alice said, rising to her feet and giving the Hatter a slight curtsy before walking away from the table.
Glen quickly stood up, bumping the table in the process and earning another black look from the Hatter. With a muttered apology, she hurried after Alice.
"We were just getting somewhere!" Glen whispered as they walked back through the ruined clockwork palace.
"The Hatter's disposition is volatile on a good day, Glenda, and he has had more than his share of bad on my behalf," said Alice, a look of sadness on her face. "We should give him some time before speaking again."
Glen was still inclined to argue, but the touch of Alice's hand stopped her. "Patience, Glen. You'll have the answers you seek, I promise."
"I've never been one for being patient." Glen admitted. "Run in, smash things, make a big fuss … that's me. Still, I'll try my best."
"You'll be fine." Alice assured her. "And I'm sure attending to your friend will help keep your mind off the wait."
They walked back to the Wonderland Express, but did not board it. Instead, Alice simply traced a circle in the ground, spinning with the grace of a ballerina. The circle beneath her shone with light that quickly consumed her form.
"Ah well." Glen muttered before stepping into the circle. "Back to reality."
Glen closed her eyes for only a moment, but found herself sitting in Alice's study when she opened them again. Night had fallen (though London was pretty dark with pollution to begin with), leaving only the fireplace to send light flickering across the room.
Alice sat in front of Glenda, though she still appeared to be asleep. Hardly surprising, Glen thought, seeing how much work it took to keep her household in order.
Deciding it would be best to let Alice rest, Glen quietly rose from her chair and left the study, taking care to close the door softly behind her. The rest of the children were (or should have been) asleep, so Glen took the opportunity to clean up the hallways of clothes and toys. The toys went in one of many boxes left all over the place, a clever idea on Alice's part that helped somewhat with the mess. The clothes went with Glen back to the room set aside for her and her mysterious friend.
The mysterious woman was still asleep when Glen slipped into the room and shut the door. Glen paid her little attention, instead moving to the corner of the room she'd converted into a small workshop. Her tools and supplies were limited, but that added a bit of a challenge to what she was building to repay Alice's kindness.
"Let's see now," Glen said, looking at the switchboard she'd installed on the wall near her workshop. It carried many labels, the most basic being 'light', but also containing labels such as 'low gravity', 'music for working', a round spinning control listing several light spectrums, and more. She eventually pushed a small blue button labeled 'sound-seal'. She shuddered slightly at the sensation of her ears popping as the anti-sound shield activated, effectively muting any nose she made within the room.
"All right," Glen said, approaching the device she'd assembled. "Let's see if we can get this sucker finished."
Banging and clanging ensued, with more than a few whispered swears (and one much louder one when she dropped a heavy wrench on her bare foot). Fortunately, the sound-seal did its job; no one outside the room heard so much as a light thump.
Eventually, Glen stood back from her device and wiped the sweat from her brow with a slightly greasy rag. Her creation sat there, a metal box with a door set into the top, with a series of knobs installed on the side. The average person of the era wouldn't have a clue what it was, though most people from Glen's time would rightly recognize it as a fixture available in many homes: a clothes-washer.
"All right," Glen said, opening the lid and tossing the children's clothes inside. She muttered under her breath as she manipulated the knobs, "moderate load, warm water, and normal amount of detergent …"
Glen considered the clothes of the orphans for a moment before amending, "Double amount of detergent … for the first run, anyway. And … go!"
She smacked the big red button on the knob console. The machine immediately came to life: loud, rumbling life.
"Aha!" Glen said, punching a fist in the air. "Another victory for Gineracorp!"
As if in response to her, the machine abruptly stopped. The lid opened and spat the clothes in all directions. Glen took cover as the machine spun about, rocking from corner to corner, before finally falling over on its side.
Slowly rising from her hiding position, Glen muttered, "Okay, maybe it could use a little more work."
The sound of something stirring pulled Glen's attention from her failed creation. Glen turned and watched as the mysterious woman she'd rescued from the Null slowly opened her almond-shaped eyes.
Confusion immediately fell on the woman's face. She glanced around the room, at Glen, then down at her clothes before finally looking at Glen again.
"I … I am alive." She said, a bewildered look on her face.
"You and me both, babe." Glen replied, not really sure what else to say.
"But I …" The woman looked at her hands again, brow furrowed. "I-I should not exist."
"Excuse me?" Glen asked, unsure how to respond.
Apprehension filled the woman's face. "This is a trick! You … you're working with Aku!"
"A-who?" asked Glen, now thoroughly bewildered.
She twisted her hand into a claw shape and thrust it at Glen. Glen flinched, but as the seconds passed, it became clear that whatever the woman was trying to do hadn't worked.
"My powers …" she murmured, "You … you've taken them!"
"Now hold on," Glen said, backing away from the woman, "I didn't take nothin' from no one, all right?"
The woman launched herself at Glen. Glen raised her hands, only for the woman to flip around her and kick her feet out from under her. A moment later, Glen found herself pinned to the floor, one of her saws pressing against her throat.
"Who are you?" The woman demanded, "And what have you done to me?"
"Glenda Adams Soleil." Glen said, "And the only thing I did was bring you here and give you some of my clothes."
She stared at Glen for a long moment before pulling the saw back … a little. Glen relaxed a proportionate amount.
"I think you were lost in the Null." Glen continued, "It's … I dunno, this place between realities where there's just … nothing. It drains your memories, drains your thoughts, drains you of everything that makes you unique, and-"
"Be silent!" The woman said. Glen could see recognition in her eyes, tinged with horror.
"I was there for a few minutes." Glen said, realization hitting her. "You were there longer, weren't you? How long? Years?"
"I … I don't know."
"Decades?"
"I don't know!"
"By the Creator, no wonder you grabbed me; you must've been desperate to get out." Glen gave the woman her most sympathetic smile. "But it's okay; we're out, and I sure ain't plannin' on goin' back anytime soon."
Uncertainty fell over the woman's face, but after a few moments, she lowered the saw. "This could still be a trap."
"Yeah, a trap." Glen said. "My master plan to bring you to Victorian London and corner the market on cobblestones. I can do the evil laugh if you want."
To Glen's surprise, that earned her a small smile. The woman stood back as Glen clambered to her feet.
"Hoo," Glen said, brushing off her clothes, "Well, that was exciting. What's your name, anyway?"
"Ashi," the woman said, rubbing her arm.
Glen nodded. "Like I said, Glenda Soleil Adams. Just call me Glen though."
"Glen." Ashi repeated. "So … where are we?"
"Not sure on the year," Glen said, "But we're in England. London, to be precise. To be honest, I'm not exactly a native either. You?"
"It would take time to explain."
Glen shrugged and sat down on the over-turned washer. "Do you wanna go first, or should I?"
