The fire in his eyes intensified and he paused before reaching out to her and pinching at the space around her neck. To her surprise, when she looked down at herself, she would see that she was not visible. When she shifted, she would be able to see a warping of the air, but if she stayed still, she blended into the background. Ferris' pinching intensified and it seemed rather urgent as a gasp tore itself out of his throat. His hand fell as the door opened back up and the man returned. "Sorry that took so long, Ferris. I hope you weren't kept waiting."
The man came over and hunkered down, kneeling just inches away from Fleur. “Now, let’s take a look, shall we?” he asked, waving his hand in front of Ferris’ face. Ferris tensed and cried out as that dark fog returned. The fire in his eyes filled his entire vision, and his back arched. The man tilted his head, his eyes darting back and forth as if he were reading something. “So, you’ve been in Sylvaele for the last couple years, huh? And where...” The man’s expression grew irritated and he looked down at Ferris like a scolding parent. “You’re hiding things from me, aren’t you, Ferris?”
“Is she in Sylvaele with you? Ferris, you know I can make you bleed.” The man’s face fell slightly and he frowned in confusion. “And... ballet?” Ferris twitched violently and the man looked down, growling. “I will get them from you, Ferris. I have time.”
The room was ornate and lush and comfortable, with heavy velvet drapes and silk pillows and a roaring fireplace. There were boxes on the mantle of the fireplace, small tables on the walls, and chests in every corner.
She reached for her neck, as if feeling for the necklace that wasn't there. Slowly she rose, going to carefully look in areas and containers that were already open.
They were filled with various jewels and luxuries. One box she looked into just held individually wrapped chocolate truffles. The man loomed over Ferris before sighing. "You're holding things back from me," he said. Ferris didn't respond, his hand tight and curled. "You're holding things back. Not just Alyssa." He tapped Ferris' temple and Ferris whimpered, a low, quiet, animal noise of suffering. "Who are you protecting?"
Ferris' fingers twitched weakly and after a few more minutes of this agonizing fight, the fire left his eyes and he shuddered, his body relaxing and his eyes closing as he curled into a fetal position. The man made a noise of disgust, standing up. "I'll give you this, Ferris, you're awfully stubborn," he said sharply, going over to the door. "We'll put you in the Waiting Room. You remember that, don't you?" Ferris didn't reply, still and lifeless on the floor. The man squinted and left the room, closing the door behind him. Something on the man's desk caught Fleur's eye; a shimmering object.
Her eyes widened slightly and she dashed over, grabbing the necklace and returning to Ferris, getting down beside him again. She sounded scared, unsure if he was okay. "Ferris?"
He was curled up, but his eyes fluttered open, grey and cold and tired. He didn't seem to have the strength to respond, his hand flopping by his side, coated in blood.
She took the necklace, reaching down and clasping it around his neck. "We're so close, Ferris," she said gently. "We have to get out of here."
He frowned, looking up at her for a moment, feeling the power that rejuvenated him. He hesitated before reaching out and taking her hand, his own trembling and cold. There was a pause before the world around them warped and spun before fading to black. And then suddenly, they were someplace else. She wouldn't be quite sure where this was, but it was chilly and dark. Rough stone walls surrounded them and there was a nearby sound of rushing water. Despite this initial change, as her eyes grew accustomed to the dark, she would see that there were small aspects in place. A sleeping bag was unrolled by one of the walls and there was hay underneath the sleeping bag for cushioning. A torch had been buried into the ground. There were paintings on the walls, showing a drawing of a warm fire. As she inspected it, she would see finer details and scenes from Sylvaele: the river in the evening with people walking by and laughing. She might even recognize some of the faces from passerby she had seen. The jukebox in the back of the bar. All of them surrounding this intricate image of a fire. Besides from all this, there was a small wooden chest next to the wall. Paper peeked out from under the lid. Ferris was lying next to her, gasping for breath from exertion. His hands were shaking and he tried to pull himself over towards the wall, his free arm on his side.
He looked up at her, squinting. "I don't need that right now," he told her, his voice hoarse. "Here..." He tugged on the necklace from around his neck, trying to get it free. He struggled for a moment before getting it off and handing it to her. "There. You're free to go."
He rolled onto his back, looking up to the ceiling and trying to catch his breath. "I don't imagine that there's much you can do, Princess," he said, his voice rough and his body trembling from cold. Despite this, he looked a little peaceful, staring upwards in thought. "Go back home. We're just down the street from the theater."
