James trudged through the dirt streets of Anorak. The heat of the sun was oppressive and he was tired from patrolling through the town all day. It was time, he decided, for a break. He walked over to an outdoor table at a cafe and sat down, hailing the waitress.
"What can I do for you?" she asked.
"One glass of iced coffee, please," he said.
The waitress went off to get his coffee and James stretched out his legs. He had been in Anorak with his platoon for three or four days. They'd probably stay around for at least another week, probably two. The war with Eurasia was a taxing one on the soldiers, going from Rim town to Rim town, protecting against possible Eurasian attacks. The townsfolk were gracious enough, but had become so used to the constant stream of military occupation that the presence of the soldiers was underwhelming to them.
"Here ya go," she waitress said, returning with his coffee. "That'll be two-twenty."
James handed her his charge card and let her run off to ring up the order. He sat and ran his eyes over the tiny Rim town. He was sitting outside a cafe off the main, dirt road. Wooden buildings lined the street, and there were five horses for every car that went by. If you looked down main street you could see past the confines of Anorak and out to the multitude of surrounding farms. Towns out this far were only now getting power, and the surrounding farms were still mostly without. Past the farms the Rim Mountains loomed up against the sky. Past those mountains where no man ventured was the land of Eurasia. As long as the Oosians could hold off the Eurasians without an offensive, they would. Nobody wanted to go to Eurasia anyway. James was lucky, in terms of the war, as his unit hadn't yet seen any action. It was James' constant fear that they would someday be patrolling a town that the Eurasians did attack. What a frightening prospect that was.
Having surveyed the landscape in front of him, James' eyes alighted again on the scene of the cafe. He noticed suddenly that the woman sitting at the table to his right was looking at him. He started slightly at this unexpected attention.
The woman laughed. "Sorry," she said. "Lost in thought?"
"Yeah," he replied. "Nice little town you've got here."
She smiled. "Yeah, I guess. Mind if I join you?"
"Please do."
Picking up her drink, the woman walked over to James' table and sat across from him. She reached out her hand. "My name's Rahne," she said.
James rose and grasped her hand, gently shaking it. "James," he replied. "A pleasure to meet you. Rahne's a pretty name. Do you spell that like rain from the sky?"
"No," she laughed and spelled it out for him. "Who knows why they spelled it that way." She smiled at him.
"So..." James asked slowly, "do you like living out here on the Rim?"
"Eh," she replied noncommittally. "I wish I could live in the Hub sometimes. It's so... hokey out here. Someday I'll move to a city in the Hub, I know it."
"I lived in the Hub. St. Louis, actually. Not a bad place to live. For me, coming out here is a kind of escape from that, though, I guess. We have a summer house in another Rim town. I haven't been there in far too many years. It's too bad that the only way I was able to get out here again was to get drafted, but at least the war isn't a total loss for me."
"Is it hard, going from town to town?"
"It's not too bad, I guess."
"Have you ever... seen one? A Eurasian, I mean."
"Not me. Hope I never do. Don't want to see any action, if I can help it. My brother saw one once, though. Shot him, too. The piece of scum was just walking through a Rim town like nothing was the matter!"
"Yikes! That's dreadful!" Rahne exclaimed at the frightening prospect. "I hope there are none in our town!"
"I sure haven't seen one," James replied, "Else I'd've shot it. Horrid idea, for sure. Sabotaging the oil lines and the power plants is bad enough. The entire Hub was without power for an hour last month because of them!"
"That is horrible..." she said slowly. "Hadn't heard about it until now, though, myself."
"I wasn't in the Hub when it happened, I was back in Altair -- my assignment before Anorak. We only heard about it through the radio reports."
"Out here we have different problems," Rahne said. "Like three months ago, they caused a dust storm. They caused a dust storm! Isn't that amazing? Nobody knows how they did it, but they wiped out a lot of crops. A lot of the folks around here'll have a hard winter because of it."
"That's extraordinary!" James said in shock. "Horrendous people, stooping so low. They look evil, too. Not that smart, though. They're all short and fat and mean-tempered."
"Short and fat?" Rahne said inquisitively. "That's odd, I was always told that they were tall and thin and frail." She mulled the thought over, humming at it. "Oh well, I'm sure we'd know one if we saw it."
"Yeah, I would imagine so," James said and downed the final drink of his coffee. "Well, enough talk of unpleasantness. What do you do around here?"
"Oh, mostly I help my mother around the house, out at the farm. Today's my day off, so I thought I'd come in to town and relax."
"I'm glad you did," James said with a smile. "What else do you do to relax... to have fun?"
"Oh, this and that. Nothing special. I play the harp sometimes in the evenings. I'm not very good, but I enjoy it. I read a lot, too."
"Oh? That is interesting. I love to read, too. Don't meet too many people who really enjoy it, though... it's one of the few things that's gotten me through the war. That and playing the flute," he finished, with a smile.
"You play flute?" she exclaimed. "We have to do a duet! Can you come to my house sometime?"
"I will be in town for some time yet," James said. "I'll definitely try to come over sometime. I'll have to talk to my sergeant before I can make any definite plans, though.... Until then, can we still meet? How about here tomorrow morning, at say... ten?"
"I'm needed in the house until eleven," Rahne said slowly, "but can you meet later? Say around one? It'll take me a while to get ready and get into town."
"Alright," James replied with a smile, reaching over and taking her hand in his. "Tomorrow at one. I'll be here."
She smiled back at him. "So, tell me about yourself. What do you read?"
"Oh... poetry, sci-fi, fantasy, mystery... lots of stuff. How about you?"
"I love poetry! And fantasy. Not a whole lot of sci-fi, but there are some things I've been meaning to read...."
Their conversation lasted for several hours, until the sun was starting to disappear behind the distant mountains and Rahne had to return to her home beyond the tiny town limits. James returned to his platoon later that evening, getting permission from his commanding officer to leave the confines of the town to visit Rahne in the coming days.
That Thursday James headed to her house. Their duet lasted long into the night and his isolated visit turned into a nightly ritual. For a week and a half James would visit Rahne's house in the countryside, playing, singing and talking late into the night. They both knew in the back of their minds James was going to leave all too soon, but they put off ever talking about it. They did trade reading material, James having little money available for buying books on his journeys.
Finally, with only three days left, the inevitable topic came up. After a few hours of harmonizing harp and flute, they went outside to watch the stars. Lying together under a big oak tree, Rahne timidly brought up the difficult subject.
"When does your troop have to leave?" she asked softly.
"Three days," James replied with a sigh. "Just three days."
"You'll... you'll never be able to come back, will you?" she asked weakly, almost too overcome with emotion to speak clearly.
"I've two years left in the army, Rahne. I love you... I can't ask for you to wait for me. Two years is too long."
"Two years I would gladly wait!" Rahne exclaimed emphatically. "Just, say you'll come back for me James. I can't imagine life without you. I love you, too, James. Just tell me that you'll come back for me."
"Would you, Rahne? Could you? Oh, I would wait a hundred years if it meant I could be with you. I will come back, Rahne. I'll come back and we can live in peace, forget about this never-ending war."
They lay for a long time without speaking, watching the moon set behind the distant Rim Mountains, lost in thought and the overwhelming feeling of closeness, treasuring it while they had it.
~
James felt exhilarated, standing on the platform of the train station, in civilian clothes again for the first time in so many years. His ticket for Anorak was tucked securely away in his left breast pocket and his bags sat at his feet. The train pulled up and James walked up the steps into the train; on his way to be finally reunited with the girl he'd thought of almost constantly for the past two years.
The ride was uneventful. For the most part he just sat in the observation car watching the ground next to the train fly by as the distant mountains crawled along. He sat watching the scenery as though in a trance, daydreaming. So many nights he had dreamed of this day, only to wake up in a sleeping bag on the hard ground somewhere. Today it was real. Rahne was just a few more hours away.
Finally, at six-thirty, the train pulled into Anorak. James gathered his bags and walked into the train station to call the local cab company. When the cab he order had arrived at the station, James stuffed his bags into the trunk and told the driver how to get to Rahne's house. Excitement swelled up in James again as he watched the familiar scenery go by. When they arrived at Rahne's house James burst out of the cab, momentarily forgetting about his bags and the poor cab driver he left sitting in the driveway.
James bounded up the stairs to Rahne's front door and rapped excitedly. A muffled call to hold on just a second came from inside the house and in a moment Rahne's mother Julie appeared.
"Hello, Mrs. Keiser!" James said, beaming with joy. "Is Rahne home?"
"And just who are you, lad?" she asked, eying him suspiciously.
"James, ma'am... I met your daughter a few years ago. You remember? We played harp and flute duets for weeks."
"My goodness! 'Tis you indeed. You look mighty different now that you're out of the service. Well, well, well."
"So, is she home?" James asked excitedly.
"No, lad, she isn't," Julie said sadly. "She went missing about a month ago... no one knows what happened. I'm terribly frightened, but I don't know what to do. Our only adopted daughter, lost! I just don't know what to do."
James was blown away. "Lost? Adopted? Rahne? Lost where? Adopted when? Are they looking for her?"
"You didn't know Rahne was adopted?" Julie asked, a little surprised. "Aye, she was. At just about three weeks. And yes, they are looking for her. Not much, though. Anymore, that is. It's been so long.... They sent out search parties, but they haven't found anything."
"Where are they looking?"
"Only place she could be: between here and the Rim mountains. If she were somewhere the other direction she'd've turned up in another town by now. No, she must be somewhere between here and the Rim mountains."
"Why couldn't she be past the mountains?" James inquired.
Mrs. Keiser raised an eyebrow at him. "Nobody's ever gone past the mountains.... At least not past...." she trailed off.
"What? Past what?" James asked urgently.
"There's a castle in those mountains. Can't see it from here, but it's up there. And there's a man what lives up there, too," she said gesturing to the looming mountains.
Losing his patience, the cab driver, who had been sitting in the car waiting patiently, got out and shouted up to James. "I've got to get back to the garage, mister!" he called. "Can I just leave your bags here?"
"Bring your things inside, James," Mrs. Keiser said. "We'll talk more at dinner."
James got his things into the house and the cab pulled out back onto the dirt driveway. James held his tongue while Mrs. Keiser was good enough to give him a room and he laid out his things, but as soon as he sat down at the dinner table with Mrs. Keiser and her husband David, he resumed their earlier conversation.
"Tell me about the man who lives in the castle," James said.
"Well," replied Julie, "nobody really knows that much about him. He's a mystery, really, though everyone has their own theories. A lot of people even say he has some sort of magical power. I know, I know," she said quickly, cutting off James' scoff, "it's a bit hard to believe, but it might just be true. In all truthfulness, James, there aren't many other explanations that work."
"I'm sure there's a better explanation, Mrs. Keiser. I really don't go in for hocus-pocus answers. I've not yet found a case where there isn't a down to earth answer. And right now, I am definitely worried about more down to earth things endangering Rahne. I'll head out in the morning."
"What, to the mountains?" Julie snorted. "I don't think so! You'd never survive out there. You'd be killed; by the elements, if not something more supernatural."
"I'm not afraid of this bogeyman, Julie, and I can certainly survive in the wild on my own. Even if I hadn't been in the army for too many years, I know how to backpack. It was a great joy of my life before the army."
Julie sighed and leaned back against her chair, regarding James intently. "You really intend to do this, don't you?" she asked, and sighed.
"I do," James said firmly, putting down his fork. He had hungrily scarfed down his steak and potatoes. "And I should sleep before heading off tomorrow morning. Good night. Thank you for the wonderful dinner." He smiled at her, scooting his chair away from the table and standing up.
"It was my pleasure, James," said Julie.
"Good luck, boy," Mr. Keiser said. He had been quiet up to this point in the conversation. "You're a good man. We both love Rahne very much, but we're both very old and I'm a cripple. We can't do anything for her. She picked a good man to fall in love with. We're proud of you."
"Thank you," said James, almost awed by the power of Mr. Keisers' quiet manner and powerful words. "We both love each other very much, and I would do anything necessary to keep Rahne safe."
"Good night James. Sleep well," Julie said, smiling at him. "I made your bed up for you."
"Thank you, Julie," James replied, bowing his head slightly to her. "I'll see you both in the morning. Good night."
And with that he walked to his room and got in to bed. He lay there for a while, thoughts dancing through his head. What had happened to Rahne? What's the real story behind this mysterious figure who lives on the mountain? Was she kidnapped? Lost? Is she safe? Finally these thoughts wore him out, and he fell into a deep sleep.
When he awoke the next morning, the sun was just peeking above the tops of the trees between the farm and Anorak. He had breakfast with the Keisers and was ready and departing at seven. He walked all that day and camped that night under the stars, a few miles from the base of the mountain. James spent most of the next day trudging up the mountain-side, but going was slow. He seemed to be having a treacherous journey over terrain that shouldn't be cause for concern. Odd things like falling trees and rains from nowhere plagued his trek over the rocky terrain. That night he camped on one of the scarce flat areas he ran across. He didn't know exactly where he was going, but Julie had indicated a general direction to him. He decided that he would probably find his mystery man on the third day.
~
Omagon sat in the cavernous library of his castle. He wore a loose white shirt with a dark purple vest, loose canvas pants and leather boots. He had short, black hair and a goatee. He was slumped back into an overstuffed chair with his eyes closed, balancing a wineglass in one hand. He was surrounded on all sides by books. Walls of books reached from the floor to the ceiling of the huge room. It was totally silent. People, places, happenings flashed through his mind in his half-trance. For a moment his flitting thoughts settled on James and his trek over the mountain-side. As one swats at a fly, a thought from Omagon toppled an enormous redwood right next to James and without waiting to see results, Omagon's consciousness sped on to more important matters.
In a chair on the other side of the room a young woman was slumped over, eyes closed and breathing only lightly. A harp rested against the chair.
Omagon stirred, coming out of his trance. He blinked once against the light of the library and rose, taking a sip from the wineglass still balanced between his fingers. He walked over to the girl, setting down his glass on a nearby table. With a small sigh he bent down and hoisted the sleeping girl into his arms, swinging around and walking out the door. He laid her on a bed in an adjecent room and seconds later she disappeared in a shimmer of blue light.
Omagon walked over to the head of the bed and picked up the thick, cloth-bound volume that was sitting there. On the front cover was scrawled in messy cursive, "Haven Earth."
It was a portal, a link between two worlds. Omagon's and Alan Kaiser's. Alan's choice of parents for Rahne on this little world of his always fascinated Omagon. He would have expected Alan to choose a couple more like himself and Mrs. Kaiser, but instead he created those hicks, the Keisers. Oh well. No accounting for taste. Obviously Alan felt that his creations would be the best suited for Rahne, and Omagon tended to trust in Alan's decisions.
Omagon walked over to a small section of his enormous library and replaced the cloth bound tome, placing it next to many others bound in a similar fashion. Some had been written by Omagon himself; most by Alan. All of the volumes by Alan had been written before the War. All except Haven Earth, that is. When the Great War erupted on Alan's world, and his people were being persecuted, Alan had decided the only way he could truly protect his only daughter would be to somehow get her off their world altogether; and that was the driving force behind his world "Haven Earth." He wanted to create a place where Rahne could grow up in a morally sound and stable environment. He did anything and everything he could to that end, from placing Rahne in a small, country community, to giving the world a stable economy by putting them in constant warfare with an imagined adversary, the Eurasians.
That was where Omagon came in. He was the imaginary adversary, and a lot more. Alan had created Omagon as the keeper of Haven Earth, endowing him with not only omnipotence and omniscience in the universe of Haven Earth, but also knowledge of his own existence. His existence in terms of the Books as they were simply called. Omagon was so fascinated with the concept of the Books that he convinced Alan to teach him the Art used to create the worlds. But while Omagon enjoyed practicing the Art privately (as he had no one to share it with), he spent most of his time overseeing Haven Earth and making sure the Oosian army has something to expend its weaponry on; which usually consisted of nothing more than a missile target that somehow trickled down through the ranks of commanders and officers. If they had bothered to check they might have realized the command came from no traceable source (Omagon was good at that sort of thing), but they never did check.
The book that gave Haven Earth reality had been kept eternally on Omagon's bookshelf. It was brought over from the "real" Earth after Alan had made sure Haven Earth was running smoothly. (The Art was very tricky, and a badly misplaced word could have effects ranging from a misplaced street-sign to an inconsistent set of physics which caused the literary universe to simply fall apart.) Though "portal books" could be used to jump between existing realities, Alan decided that the only way to keep Haven Earth truly safe was to destroy all entrances to it. With Haven Earth actually residing in Haven Earth, there was no way to enter from any outside reality, one could only leave. Almost twenty years ago now, Alan had brought his baby daughter and the Book into Haven Earth. He had given Rahne to the Keisers as an adoption, and the Book to Omagon. He knew he would see neither again for at least twenty years.
That was how long he had decided she should live on Haven Earth. Long enough to become a well adjusted adult and long enough for the war on Real Earth to be resolved. He could only hope that he would live to see the end of the war and see his daughter returned. Now it was twenty years later, and it was time for Omagon to make final preparations. He had decided it best not to deal directly with Rahne, but leave that to her father. For a month he had kept Rahne incapacitated while he made preparations to leave Haven Earth. One thing after another had delayed his departure. In the Books some things were predestined while almost all daily life for a world's denizens were left to their own free will. Something was keeping Rahne in Haven Earth, though, some bit of predestiny was playing out somewhere. Though he had never been able to pinpoint it exactly, Omagon was able to tell when it had played out and he could finally return Rahne to her birth world.
Omagon had gone back to his chair in the library and sat down, these thoughts filtering through his head. Suddenly he got a flash of James on the mountainside not far from his castle, and he realized what had been happening.
~
James awoke on the third day to see a man leaning on a tree not five feet from the base of his sleeping bag.
"James," said the man slowly. It was obviously not a question. "James Winchester. You aren't real you know. None of this," the man paused briefly, gesturing to the surrounding scenery, "is."
James was wide awake very quickly at this odd greeting. "Hey man, I don't know who you think you are, butÑ"
"My good man," replied the figure, straightening up and folding his arms, "I am Omagon and probably the only person on this planet who really does know who he is. I happen to also know who you are. Don't feel special, though, I know everything about everyone. That's my job."
"Odd job," James snarled. "So you're the man everyone down there is afraid of?" James asked bluntly, indicating the town below with a wave of his hand.
"Yes, I would say that's fairly accurate. Not an entirely oblivious crowd of people. They have good reason to fear me. Everyone on this world does, the people in Anorak just know it better than most."
James glared at Omagon. "Trying to intimidate me will prove ineffective," James said in a low growl.
"Why would I have need to intimidate you when I could so easily just incapacitate you? But I really have no wish to harm you, I just want you to return to your life down there. Trying to save the damsel in distress is terribly romantic and all, but your energies are misplaced and futile. Rahne is gone and I, James, am not the bad guy you would make me out as."
"What do you mean 'gone'?" James cried madly, leaping to his feet and bounding towards Omagon.
Omagon's response wasn't verbal but it was very real. James body was slammed backwards with such force at every point on his body that he lost consciousness before hitting the ground fifteen feet away.
James awoke sometime later and wished that he hadn't. His head throbbed and his body ached all over. He tentatively opened his eyes, expecting to be peering up through a sky of leaves and branches. Instead, however, he found his eyes straining for light in a dimly lit room. After a few seconds his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he could tell that he was in a room of stone, probably somewhere underground judging by the coolness of the air. The dungeon -- as he surmised it to be -- was lit by torches placed here and there on the walls, and James found himself on a slab of wooden planks which rested at about a sixty degree angle from the ground. Despite the steep angle at which James lay, he did not seem to slip, or be able to move at all, for that matter. He struggled for a short time against his invisible restraints, but his labor proved futile.
"I assure you, your effort is for naught."
James head snapped up at the sound of Omagon's voice, orienting on the dark doorway from which the sound came. "Where is Rahne?" he said in a low tone.
"Gone. I told you that," Omagon said, stepping out of the shadows of the doorway and into the light of a torch. "This time you can't very well attack me though, luckily for both of us I suppose."
"Gone means nothing. Is she out of town? Out of the country? Dead? What? What did you do with her?"
"She isn't dead, James. But she is quite a lot more than simply out of the country. She's off the planet, James, if you want to look at it in those terms. She's no longer in this universe."
James sighed and cursed under his breath, resting his head back on the wooden slab. "She is dead." He closed his eyes in mental anguish. "Why did you kill her?"
Omagon clicked his tongue at James. "I don't do euphemisms, James. She isn't dead but she certainly isn't down the street."
"Then where?" cried James, exasperated, straining his head to look at Omagon again. "That's what I've been asking you all along but you wont give me a straight answer!"
Now Omagon raised the book he had been holding in his left hand. James strained to read its cover in the dim light.
"'Haven Earth,'" Omagon said, reciting the title for James. "This is where Rahne isn't. As pointless as that sounds, let me explain a bit more.
"You're a well-read man, I know, James. You don't have an analytical mind, exactly, but you are certainly a bright man. And obsessed with books. The Art is almost indescribable in complex lucidity, but I can make an analogy that appeals to your love of literature.
"When you read a good story, you are immersed in another world. You truly loose touch with the world around you and are caught up in the lives of the characters in the story. It's as though you leave this world and enter theirs.
"Now as intangible as that may be, it is really not too far removed from the Art. That is, the art of writing in a way that not only in the realms of the mind do you visit other realities, but in a very tangible, physical sense. Some scientists might liken it to the creation of 'parallel universes.' Despite the name, these are not necessarily like any other universe at all. In the Art, these universes are created through the power of the written word, and it is possible to travel between them."
James' mind was reeling. He couldn't possibly accept a story like this, could he? He had seen Omagon display so much raw power, though, it was hard to doubt what he said. "And Rahne is... in another world? In... that book?"
"Not exactly," replied Omagon coolly. "You'll recall, I said this is where Rahne is not. Actually, Rahne just left this book yesterday evening. It's you and I who reside in this book, James. You see, this book was written by a man living in a different universe. 'Real' Earth I guess, for lack of a better term. All this was created for Rahne by her father to protect her from dangers on her home world, and all the rest is immaterial. She's lived here for twenty years almost -- she was brought here as just an infant -- and it was time for her to return to her real home and her real family. I abducted her from her family here so that, basically, she wouldn't have to put up with me and vice versa. I wanted her to wake up to the sight of her true father's face. He can explain it all to her."
"What do you mean you wouldn't have to put up with her? Weren't you keeping her here?"
"Ah, err," Omagon stuttered slightly, "yes, only... she was kept incapacitated."
"For a month?" cried James in sudden rage at hearing this indignity done to Rahne.
Omagon hummed uncertainly before answering. "Something predestined was keeping her here. That is, something that was predestined had to play out before her time here was finished. ...I think that had to do with you and your search for her."
"You mean," James' voice was suddenly hopeful, "that Rahne and I are meant to be together?"
"Err, not quite. Um..." Omagon sounded unsure, "that is, it would appear not. I think the book simply meant for you to search her out. But she's gone now, James, and you have to accept that. There's no way for you to be with her."
"What do you mean?" James cried in piteous outrage. "We're meant to be together! We love each other! I was destined to come to her!"
"But she's gone, James, and there's no way for you to get her. And I'm afraid it seems you weren't meant to be together. Predestiny has played itself out, James. Every event written into the script, as it were, has been played out."
"But I can still get to her, can't I? I mean, I just have to leave the book, don't I? I can do that, right? Can't I? I must be able to! I'm real..."
"Yes, James, you are real. I can't deny that. But you can't leave. Only so many people can pass through the Book Portal. That was a security feature built into the Book itself and is unalterable. The only thing left to do is to return the book to its author. That's my job, and my last service to this world that I have watched over for so many years. If it were possible for people to read the book, this entire society would fall apart. It might even be possible to alter the book so that people could travel freely between this world and the real one, which would be utterly catastrophic. After I leave, this world will be totally without outside influence; the Book's having expired and mine having left. It will be on a normal course of cultural development for the first time in its existence."
"I.... Maybe... um...." James was unsure of what to do or say. Thoughts wielded through his head madly, grasping for any way to see Rahne again.
"No, James, only I can return the book to the real world," Omagon said, cutting loose a hope that had just latched onto James' mind. "The reason is somewhat complicated, and I suggest you trust me here. Though even if it were technically possible for you to return the book, I don't think it would be a good idea."
In frustration, James slammed his head back into the slab he has still laying on. It made a loud, dull thud and he lay there stunned; partially from the impact he had inflicted upon himself, but more from Omagon's story and thoughts of Rahne -- whom he would never see again.
"Sorry, James, that's the way this has to play out. There's nothing you or I can do. I'm afraid your behavior has made it impossible for me to allow you to roam free while the Book and I are still here, but don't worry; I'll be gone soon enough."
Omagon turned on his heal, his loose vest swishing around him, and strode quickly out of the torch-light. James could hear noises from various other parts of the castle, and he assumed Omagon was gathering important items which he wanted to take with him to the real world. All James could do was lay there in misery, thinking of Rahne and the life he would never get to lead, as well as the utter insignificance of his life and the lives of everyone he knew on this fake little planet. What was life when it held no reality beyond the cloth bound covers of some book?
After half an hour Omagon came back in to the room, now adorned in capes befitting a man of his stature and disposition, James thought.
"Well James, it was an enjoyable time. I'm sorry I had to take the precautions I did. I would be worried about you retelling my story, but it doesn't much matter because no one would believe you, eh?" Omagon smiled, but there was no joy in his face. "Fare well, James. Sorry things didn't work out." And with that, Omagon faded quickly away in a swirl of incandescent blue light.
As the light quickly faded James was released from his invisible constraints and slid quickly to the ground. His legs were so weak from laying on the slab that he collapsed to ground for a moment and sat a while before attempting to stand again. Eventually he was able to make his way to one of the many guest rooms any castle the size of Omagon's has and lay on a bed. There was a window on the wall opposite the bed, and as he lay watching the sunset, he continued his earlier thoughts.
What would he do now? He had nothing to live for. He had been estranged from his father years ago, and his mother had died while he was in the service. Rahne was all he had had in the world. A promise of blissful life... and without that -- nothing. He considered suicide, briefly, but decided that such decisions were best left for less restless times. Tonight he would sleep. He had a lifetime in front of him and nothing to fill it. There was time to think.
He did sleep... somewhat; restlessly. His dreams were haunted with visions of Rahne and scene's of being reunited. He didn't know from where or how, but dreams don't often make much sense. He dreamed of her skin, pressed against his.
Suddenly he awoke, startled. The room was awash in a soft light that he had not left on, and someone was lying in bed next to him, smiling. Fearing the disappointment of another dream, he reached out to brush hair from her face, fulling expecting her to disappear like any of a hundred previous delusions.
Instead, his hand simply brushed the loose hair away from her eyes.
"Rahne!" he cried out in elation.
She put her hand up to his, which lay resting on the side of her face, and leaned forward to kiss him softly. "I love you James, I couldn't live without you."
"But... Omagon said...."
"He didn't lie to you, James. The chances are good that we'll never get back to the 'real' world. I don't care, though, James. Reality is whatever we want it to be. All that really matters is that you and I are together."
Overcome with joy, James embraced Rahne and they fell back into the soft bed, where they lay until morning, wordless, basking in the joy of closeness.