The sky was fresh, wide and open on the Rockways of Morook. A cool breeze from the sea many forests beyond, was already drifting—moist air whisps—onto the hills.

Seileah felt a bit more attentive, but the moment she clambered over the brink at the ridge, she slowed—her swollen eyes squinting—suddenly unconvinced about any approach.

Then she heard it. A sound appeared from one side of the boulder. The boulder she'd already passed.

"Hello. Who are you?"

Crazed by the power she knew only as lightning, she at once leapt sideways—straight off the path—nearly careening through a frontal cliff dive and caressing face of the bluff. Rugged rocks!

At the same time she heard a, "woah!" and she managed to halt herself in mid-spill, but only by cramming bare toes onto a triangular flat surface of grass—a full body-length down. Baskets of fire! She gripped on and between craggy blocks in some angular stone.

"Where did you go?" a voice muttered, more to himself than to her.

She grasped and pulled, twisting her ankle, then, swiftly regained her balance. In a clutch at the brace that had given her purchase, she gaped up again to see who was there.

Peering over the rim was the head of a boy—the identical boy she had seen in the void! How can I see him? She didn't pretend any manners, nor consider him real. Oh, blessed thistles! How am I witnessing this?

"Hey, take it easy." The boy quickly ducked back behind the overhang on the bluff and came round and onto the rockway. "Can you get back up?" He lent her his hand, bending down and across for her to reach him.

This boy with the oddly shaped ears seemed to be meaning no harm.

So, she glanced quickly down to the turf-lands spinning below her, and then back up again to where the new creature appeared over her head. I've clearly been lost in my mind—stuck on my sadness. I wasn't at all in my listening space!

What's happened? She shook her head at the hand the boy offered, then groped and tussled her way to the top by herself.

She could have pitched far below onto the mountainside. Mountains of madness! The thought brought her back to crisp recognition.

The blessed lands hadn't spoken to warn her. None of this creature's thoughts had come from the breeze—and yet here he is. If she been any more careless, sloshing about in her maudlin wallows, she might no longer be—well—the Vox-terra.

Feeling quite a bit clearer in this awakening instant, she could now afford the luxury of being annoyed. She had allowed this to happen. I lost touch with myself. She stood in the sun, wincing, while rubbing a wrist.

"Sort of gave each other a scare." The boy's voice was so soft.

"I'm no skittish fawn, am I?" Seileah stood now, sizing up the density of form the strange boy embodied. He appeared to be reasonably solid—most of his parts fully in place.

"No, sorry, of course not." He was polite but surprised—somewhat bemused. "I was feeling pretty spooked, myself, with the day as it is—"

"How do you mean? How did you get here?"

"How did I get here? Why— I was always here. What are you saying?"

"What do you mean, always here?" Seileah enjoined. Her nostrils flared ever so slightly—enough just to match the lift of her chin. "Clearly, you'd know if you were—I'm the one who's always here." She was not in the mood for any more challenge. Getting a better look at the boy, she sought a full-on peer at his face.

Moonbeams! At once, she was compelled by two flat jade pebbles sinking into mirroring pools. Her heart plunged straight away to the wild willings of her Morook as it had always possessed her—confined in his eyes; his temples finely veined, his skin much too bronze for one of such delicate features.

How did he get here? But she managed a dignified sniff. "Is your home nearby?"

"Yes." He sounded firm, although he looked puzzled enough. Then he regained his composure. "We must be neighbours?"

"Neigh—what, say you?"

"You live around here—" He affirmed, manners not in the slightest disturbed.

Her brows furrowed. "I live everywhere."

"I fear you nearly didn't live anywhere, as it happens!" He tried to tease, but quick as a minnow, foresaw her reaction. "Again, I am so sorry. I never meant to frighten you."

"You did not frighten me."

"Okay."

"It is not a common occurrence."

"I'm sure."

"You shouldn't be here," Seileah insisted, needing to hear the sound of her voice.

"I beg your pardon? I don't get a chance to meet many people, but I assure you this is quite truly my home."

Seileah ignored him. "Your void— You shouldn't go far from it. It's right along there. You might want to keep an eye on that spot. How does it work?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know— where you came from. It could dissolve back into the mists and you mightn't get home." Seileah was worried.

He has to go back into the swirl. It's what I came for. He has to leave. She started climbing toward the base of the tree, assuming he'd follow along the ridge path, but he was now looking out over the cliff.

"I don't understand. The view— It is more—" He was lost for words. "Crystal—than I saw of it yesterday. And how is it so— It's looking so—green?"

Slowly his head shook, but he focused back up the rise—now towards her, and climbed the full distance to the roots of the tree. She ignored him again. And to make her relax, the boy tried to sit down.

Hanging his elbows out over his knees, the odd-eared lad leaned forward, heels splayed out in the dirt. He casually played with peeling some bark off a small fallen twig.

He isn't going to do anything about it!

"I asked you how it worked." Seileah tried not to sound too demanding, but this day hadn't been like any day in the whole of her life—up until now—and it was his fault!

"Sorry. How what works?" he'd asked her.

"Your squirl— your void— your smokey hole-thing—the place you came out of!"

"Okay. I'm really sorry. I really didn't mean to scare you over the cliff, but I truly don't know why you're here. I don't know what you are saying? How can I help you?"

"Help— ? Help me—? You've already caused a behemoth of trouble. I don't mean to be rude, but I just think it might be better—a clear sight better—if you went along home."

"I don't have any home, other than here." He frowned, plainly not understanding her meaning, but she could tell he was still trying to be nice.

The ring of the valley and chittering birds filled her ears. Seileah remembered her name—all her new anguish. Her shoulders sagged and she blew out a breath, "Huh—I guess, really—uh, neither do I."

Rancour! She took the next big expansion of air, exhaled again and leaned on the rock opposite him—swooshing a dragonfly off the warmth of its top. It lifted, carried out over the ridge to suddenly glide down into the valley—then swiftly shot up, borne by the breezes who hugged the face of her cliff. It fought its way back against all the currents to land and cling tight to rough bark on the trunk.

After a moment, Seileah realized there was no place to start but at the beginning. Just tell him how it happened. She sighed.

"Look, here's how it was— This morning, I was up in my tree." She raised her chin to nod to the top. "Then I saw you, or I mean—your swirl. Then I climbed all the way down, and then—like I said, I saw you—in it— inside it—the space."

"So, you know that I live here! Why were you climbing up in my tree? You shouldn't do that. You could get hurt. The Neighbourhood Watch could bring us some grief. You can't let them see you."

"You're naming strange words. You must say what they're for, if you're going to use them." She looked across at him and started again, "The first thing I saw—you were in the ground in the swirl. Well, no— I saw the swirl first. After that, I saw you. Right, there." She pointed further uphill to the spot under roots, but now could see the ground had completely closed up.

"Oh, no! Oh, no. Oh, no." She ran to the tree.

"What?" The boy observed, a little alarmed now at her behaviour.

"No, I saw you inside the swirl. I saw you bent over some odd sort of form; and some other people I couldn't see came along and told you you had to come back and finish by three o'clock—whatever that is—" She looked to see if he recognized anything at all she described. He just continued his claims. "Why were you spyin— watching me? Are you lost? Where are your parents? I can get you some help."

Sharp grass! Is he being cruel? "Again you think you can help me further!" Now she felt angry. She didn't want to be angry. She was beginning to see this boy had no idea where he was.

He might be damaged. He could have fallen. He could have accidentally eaten some mushrooms or one of my plants. He didn't look like he'd been in the sun, burnt enough to be sun-sick. He is too brown. So, Seileah assumed he didn't know where he was.

This isn't good. If he didn't know how he'd got here and thought he was home, this meant he might not, indeed, know how to get back.

"Oh, no—" She took another big breath and regained her intent. "Look—what are you called?"

She was just deciding what to do, when the land shook with a vigorus quiver. She flung her arms back to steady herself.

The whole scene—the valley and mountains ahead of her—shimmied. It appeared like a heat wave, far off in the dry lands—just before one tried to make passage and reach for the shiver; only to find it had vanished again, and escaped to next points—far enough off—again moved to the distance. But this present time, the shimmy—here on her cliff—was bigger and more encompassing still.

She looked at the boy. He had better hold on! But still he turned over. He tried to grab onto the root and finally, uncertain of balance—he got to his knees.

The tree, above them both—shook. Its needles quivered on the ends of the branches. A few small pieces fell off and rained around the base of the tree and over the cliff.

The ground seemed to rumble and then she saw the boy wobble—arms out, trying to keep his composure—smile and say, "earthquake", like nothing was wrong.

But the sound grew loud with the quickening motion. She clung on tighter and watched as the swirl reappeared and widened—much faster than it had in the low sun rising.

The gaping smoke this time was a deepening grey, cloudy—rotating—wild, as the earth continued to fall away into the void. It hungered beneath ground, close beside where the boy couldn't see—in the upper part of the mound for the tree roots. The dragonfly rattled it's wings and stuck fast to the trunk. And she saw the boys lips move. He was shouting right at her.

"It's Dragon," he yelled.

"What?" she raised her voice over the din of the swoosh and the wind now stirring, as well.

"My name's Dragon Efflington." He seemed to be trying to talk while he waited for the noise and the shaking to stop.

"I can't hear you!"

"Dragon! Call me Dragonfly!" he shouted. 

And she watched as the earth belched and swallowed him up.

≈≈≈

Wow! It sure helps to have early support in posting these drafts! I garner a MUCH greater sense of  the chapter —how it might be coming across, when you feedback for me whatever you're thinking.  And of course I get all too thrilled by a few of these votes—the orange ones, those stars, the ones that tell me there could be more stories to start.

Dragonfly Eflington. What about that name? 

And the expletives of fae folk—all right or too much? - taking a poll though comments , right here —>

I can't tell you the difference reader insights provide me!  Not having to implode—alone in a vacuum—is a real kind of treat. Your comments are lovlie! 

Thanks, Profanity Princess. You know who you are! ;) And a special thanks goes out through all of the worlds to @gideoneaston -Your unbelievable writing and time spent contributing insights—so I may glimpse my efforts through all of your kindness— You have inspired my courage beyond means to hint at your impact. Gideon, thank you so very much!