Verse 6:

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“Do you know this woman?”

Gideon could feel the coil of annoyance tightening in his chest; this mission was not going as he had planned, and Gideon Jepta’s plans were all-encompassing.

Gallow let out a groaning sigh and looked down to collect his thoughts. Then, as if he wasn’t concerned in the slightest, he popped back to attention and exclaimed, “Hey, why don’t we take this into my office? I have one of those now, you know.”

Gideon squinted and looked back and forth between the players in this scene.

“Fine, but I’m assuming the girl is going home?” He eyed Janna, who was trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. She perked up and Gallow, overcome with sudden sympathy, said, “Hey, just leave it by the door and get back to your dad.”

Janna nodded stiffly and left her gift at the threshold of the Sheriff’s office before walking away so quickly that she was practically skipping.

Once inside, Gideon took the initiative and sat himself in a rickety wooden chair Gallow had pulled from storage and placed opposite his desk. It was the only guest seat, but his guide didn’t seem to mind; her eyes had a consistent confidence, as if she had the upper hand, and Gallow wasn’t entirely sure she wasn’t. He himself sat on the arm of his own chair, feeling that sitting properly might be too prone.

“Okay,” Gideon began, legs crossed. “Explain, if you can.”

Gallow held up the back of his hand, revealing the sigil. “This is the woman who gave me this mark.”

Gideon examined it closely.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

The guide spoke up. “It means that it’s time for you to show me to the Spring.”

“Huh?” Gallow was taken aback. “What do you want with it?” A shred of regret flashed behind his eyes. The guide didn’t smile, but he could tell in a blink that she had confirmed what she wanted to know.

“No-” he sputtered.

“It’s alright,” she cut him off. “If you’ve found it already, you don’t have any reason not to take me.”

Gallow folded his arms and sat in stony silence for a few seconds; there was a palpable tension in the air. “If you gave me this just to lead you here, then I can’t trust you.” Gideon glanced back and forth between them, trying to eke out how they knew each other.

The guide stared him down. “You’re sure about that?”

“…Yeah.”

“Alright then,” she raised her hand in his direction, fingers poised outward.

“[VANISHING POINT]”

An intangible rush of energy was felt in the room; Gideon’s ears popped, and he shot his gaze wildly at her. Gallow’s vision was obscured by pure darkness, and she became the only thing in his sight. Despite her standing perfectly still in the shadow, she seemed to shift closer, directly in front of him, at an incredible speed. 

Without warning, the darkness was lifted and he was no longer in his chair, but standing before her.

The guide reached out, touching the back of his hand. The instant she made contact, he felt pins and needles wash over his whole arm. The diamond sigil surged with power; Gallow, too disoriented to object, felt a pull on his hand, just like his encounter with Fiemmo, but this time it was a much stronger, almost magnetic pull.

“Hey-” he blurted, but it was too late. His hand flew to the door, dragging him along with it. His body crashed into the wooden frame, pinned against the wall.

“What the hell do you think-” He couldn’t finish before the guide calmly turned the knob, sending him outside, with the force of a horse-drawn carriage. Gideon had no other option but to look on in alarm.

“Excuse me, ma’am, what are you doing?” he asked, twisting around in his seat to see her already set to dash outside.

“Reconvening,” she replied, before taking off in pursuit of the helpless sheriff.

Meanwhile, Gallow was desperately struggling against the increasing forward momentum. His feet were planted firmly into the ground, his free arm was grabbing his other wrist, but to no avail. He was yanked across town like a prisoner of war being dragged through the victor’s city.

A mother and her child were walking down main street when they saw him speed by.

“Look, sweety, that’s the sheriff, say hi!” she beamed to her son.

They both raised their hands to wave to Gallow as he passed them at blistering speeds, leaving them coughing in a cloud of dust. Moments later, a young native woman ran past in hot pursuit, followed by a befuddled soldier.

Gallow broke through the city limits and surged down the stretch of road that led to Janna and her father’s farm. The tree stump appeared on the horizon, looming, and even though he was used to its function as a portal by now, he still couldn’t help but clamp his eyes shut in sheer panic.

Before he knew it, he was lying face-down in the grass of the Garden. The twitching, pins and needles feeling in his hand didn’t cease, and he felt it drawing him to the water.

“No you don’t!”

Gallow slammed his other arm down over his hand, but soon realized that his elbow was still sliding along, digging a trench through the dirt.

“Oh… Come on!”

Back outside, the enigmatic guide huffed with excitement; she’d just seen Gallow disappear into what looked like a tree stump. Her eyes filled with fire, old stories came flooding back to her, and she understood them in a new way. She leapt forward out of her sprint, soaring towards the stump as Gideon, a few meters away, watched her simply disappear into thin air.

He skidded to a halt, taking a moment to examine the stump, then surveying the area, then the ground to make sure there wasn’t a pit.

“No… they didn’t just…” he was at a loss. Gideon Jepta had lived and watched die in a world of strict regiment and rules. A maxim he’d hammered into his troops went, “If You Can See It, You Must Follow It.” When a newer recruit would ask him to explain this saying, he would smile and say: 

“The world in front of you is the only thing you can trust, only act based off of what you can see.”

Now that straightforward mindset was being challenged by something he saw, but just couldn’t accept was real. This had always been the danger of his philosophy, and in an attempt to fool-proof it, he had sworn off alcohol and other substances that might cloud his perception. 

Gideon stood before the stump, heart still pounding from the sprint, and collected himself.

“If this is what I’ve seen” he resolved himself. “I must follow it.”

With that, he stepped forward into the infinite space between distances.

—

Gideon landed face-first in a cool patch of grass. His arms propped him up before he hopped to his feet. As he was taught in the academy, before he even took in his surroundings, he steeled his senses for combat. 

All of those senses had been thrown off by the sudden change in time and space. Going through the portal was much like an out-of-body experience, where one is floating freely with no reference for distance or duration; he could have been there for years, or less than a second. As he readjusted, he saw shafts of light breaking through what could have been leaves up above, and he was finally able to take in his surroundings.

He was surrounded by towering trees of an indeterminate species, flora in brilliant, lush colors, an impenetrable blue sky hung over him, waving like an infinitely long curtain. The borders of the Garden were unclear, the further he looked in one direction, the denser the forestry seemed to become, the horizon almost seemed to be swallowed up by a rim of black. He took note of his guide, who had apparently landed on her feet in front of him.

“Excuse me-” he quivered, his knees still shaking.

He cut himself short, noticing, for the first time since he’d met her, that she wore an apprehensive expression, or perhaps that she just didn’t know what was going on either, which was more comforting for his sake. He took several steps toward her and realized her eyes were glued to a pool of water surrounding a nearby spring.

“Hey, what’s the deal?” he wondered aloud.

“That man…” she muttered.

“Yes?”

“He was dragged into the spring…”

Gideon followed her gaze, then looked back at her. “He’s in there?”

“Yes.”

“At the speed he was going?”

“…Yes.”

“Is he going to drown?”

“No,” she replied. “If the spirit of the Spring is keeping him down there, it means he’s dreaming.”

“Dreaming?” Gideon asked, exasperation breaking through his words. “What are you talking about? What spirit? What’s going on?” he continued, head swiveling around at the scene. “Who are you? What’s happening to him?”

“He could be dreaming…” she mused, not paying him much mind. She approached the water and dipped her finger into it before furrowing her brow.

“But it seems more like he’s having a nightmare.”