George jerked awake, his forehead covered in sweat. He wiped his face and took a deep breath. He had no idea how many days it had been since he had been stuck in this space. It brought back his nightmares from when he had sealed himself away. Darkness so thick you couldn’t even see your hand in front of you. And in the shrouding silence, you would either hear your own heartbeat or perhaps the screams in your head. It was sensory deprivation and he was slowly going out of his mind. There was nothing to see, hear, smell or taste. And in the ensuing darkness, he couldn’t even tell if his sense of touch was correct, especially since he felt like he was suspended in nothingness. He felt numb in both the body and mind. He wondered again and again how he hadn’t died when he had locked himself away.
But that wasn’t true; he had wanted to die then. He had hoped that he would just melt away and become one with the darkness, which he never did. Now, thanks to the peace he had enjoyed, he had slowly overcome his madness and had learned to enjoy life again. He didn’t want to endure this any longer but he had yet to find a way out of the space that imprisoned him.
After the meeting with Iktomi, Master Gin had instructed him and Fionn to run a sweep in and around the club. Even he and Fionn had not known that Master Gin had set up barriers at all the club entrances and had therefore taken Iktomi’s trespass with greater seriousness. In hindsight, George realized that when they had searched earlier and turned up empty, it should have alerted him to the level and ability of the person behind it. Instead, he arrogantly just went on his own without informing anyone what he was doing or where he was searching.
Actually, it wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to tell anyone; he had literally stumbled upon the hidden space, stepping into it without realizing that it was there. The good news was that he wasn’t dead; but the bad news was he had been trapped here for so long without being found, making George realize that no one had yet noticed the location of this space.
Most people wouldn’t. Whoever it was had cleverly set the space next to the main array point, which was off limits to guests and most of the staff. Then if any of the authorized staff detected the presence of an independent space, they would take for granted that it was the space that took you to the main array point; especially since they weren't blood related and couldn't enter it. Someone had understood Master Gin’s array designs, and exploited it. They also managed to enter a forbidden area of the club and set up an independent, hidden space that was not detected until now. George felt chills when he thought about it. This person was powerful and crafty.
He closed his eyes and gave a sigh, willing himself to leave the nightmares behind. If this was where Iktomi had hidden himself, then it was understandable why he had been undetected until now. But it couldn’t have been Iktomi that had made this; based on his size he wouldn’t have needed such a big space. But the thing that made him most suspicious was the feel of the magic here. It felt more eastern; he was sure he could feel energy similar to the energy crystals in the space. Having lived for as long as he did, with his extensive travels, he had learned a lot on magic and how to differentiate them.
Western magic felt rigid and aggressive, the ones from the Middle East was warm with a hint of spice, the eastern ones were a mishmash; there were those that felt smoky with herbs, some that were aggressive, there were some that were flexible and enveloping. It depended on the area. Every part of the world developed individually. But because he had learnt some minor cultivation techniques, he was familiar with the feel of the magic here. But even if he knew what kind of magic it was, he wasn’t proficient enough to break the spell.
He hadn’t felt this helpless in a while… no, that was not true. He felt helpless when he saw Ciel lying motionless in a pile of spiders not long ago. It felt like a long time back but he was sure it was at most a month ago. His sense of time had been disrupted by the darkness. When he thought about his white haired beauty, he smiled and his heart softened. He’d been gone all this while, was he thinking about him? He wanted desperately in his heart for Ciel to think about him, in the way he was thinking about that man. But he was also afraid; that they were nothing more than colleagues, that Ciel was still repulsed by him. Ciel had changed after the attack on the club; he had started training and day after day he was getting stronger. George felt that Ciel was climbing to a height that he couldn't reach.
George and Yue had also started training together, aiming to grow stronger, to be able to protect their beloved. He planned to start learning magic as well but he was still deciding between styles. He liked the flexibility of the oriental style, at least the one based on inner Qi. But he was hindered because the methods of teaching were rather poetic and he had yet to wrap his head around gaining personal insight to self-learn and improve. As for the western arts which required long chants, he had no patience for them. Well, it didn’t matter. He can’t learn anything until he got out of this place anyway. He wondered why Ciel had started training but he couldn’t find an answer. Was he too weak that he couldn’t protect him? But that wasn’t right either. Their contact had always been minimal and there had never been any instance where he had protected Ciel in a life threatening situation.
He avoided joining the siblings in their early morning training because frankly, looking at a serious, sweaty Ciel was rather arousing. And if he were to be in a session where he was grappling with him, he might just lose it and kiss him there and then. He remembered the feel of the slight man in his arms, with his soft, satiny skin. There was also that smell of sunshine that was a unique part of his scent. George felt himself relax a little bit more as he thought about Ciel. And, as if responding to his thoughts, he felt his scar heat up. It wasn’t the scalding mind numbing sear of an attack. Instead, the gradual warmth felt like a hand gently holding and caressing his cheek.
He opened his eyes, alert to the sudden change. The space also seemed to sense it as there was a suffocating feeling of compression, as it seemed to squeeze at George. As he slowly felt himself being flattened from all sides, George could only grit his teeth and endure the pressure. He curled himself into a ball, protecting his head as much as he could. It was beginning to hurt but George was used to worst pain and bore it stoically, choosing to focus his mind on Ciel rather than the pain.
If he was going to die like he thought he was, he would rather spend his last few minutes thinking of the one he loved than to regret or hate his fate. Ciel was his anchor, his safe harbour now. After wandering for so long, after being sent to the other side of sanity, the slender fair man with the gentlest of smiles was his shelter, his refuge – his sanctuary. Rather than bemoan his fate, he would rather thank the heavens that he had a chance to meet him. Rather than curse the shadows, he would rather focus on his light, his Ciel. And as if the heavens did hear him, there was a flash of light and the feeling of compression disappeared.
George opened his eyes and found that he was in a dark tunnel. It was no longer that inky blackness that took away all his senses but rather a gloomy darkness that still allowed him some sight. He could make out the edges of the tunnel, could smell the damp, could hear the skittering of creatures as they ran away from him along with the incessant dripping of water, could feel the wet air against his skin and water under his shoes. He took a deep breath and felt alive again. He didn’t even feel like he was breathing when he was stuck, suspended in that space previously.
He crouched to the ground, sticking as close to the walls as possible. From the feel of the wall, it was a man-made structure, he could feel the relative smoothness of the surface, interspersed with gaps where the bricks joined. There was a cold, wet feeling to the stones, and he could also touch the slimy, wet feel of algae at certain gaps. He made a face and wiped his hands on his trousers. He was out but he had no idea where he was. This was definitely not the club.
After gaining his bearings and determining that there wasn’t anyone nearby, he crept forward, relying on the gloomy light to make his way. He finally realized that this was a weak florescence from the plants that lived in the dark. The air had smelt wet, but it did not smell musty. He was an expert on stagnant air, he would know. He suspected that this place was recently underwater but had been drained not too long ago. If he concentrated, he could feel the slight air currents against his skin. If there was moving air, then there must be an opening that let the air in. He aimed in that direction and moved cautiously, nerves taut for any sign of life or ambush.
The place felt deserted. Besides the scampering of creatures he heard earlier, there was no signs of life, of human activity. Even then, he didn’t let his guard down. He had no idea why he had been sent here, or how. It could be a trap or maybe just a stroke of luck. Because of that, it was better to stay vigilant than to relax and get caught. It reminded him of his adventures with Sinbad all over again. He wondered what that rogue was doing now.
After a while, he came to the end of the tunnel. It was blocked. But George didn’t discourage. He could hear a whistling as air forced its way through the cracks, could feel the cold air as it rushed through the narrow gaps. His shoes were soaked now, as was the lower hem of his trousers; he had been walking in ankle deep water for a while now. He felt the stone and could feel water seeping through the openings. George had to think for a moment, before he started feeling the stones, slowly inching his way up. At a point near waist height, the stones were no longer wet. Taking it as the water level, George felt relieved. At least the water wasn’t too deep; this also meant that the pressure wouldn’t be too high either.
From the feel of the stones earlier, he knew that the tunnel had collapsed, which was the source of this blockade. Thankfully the cave-in had meant that he could climb on the debris, as long as he could find a steady foothold. He weighed the risks and decided that it would be easier to dig his way out than to turn around and look for another exit aimlessly in the dark. Shrugging off his jacket and rolling up his sleeves, he started to dig…
