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Subject: {ASSM} Amanda's Choice 3/19 (nosex)
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Date: Sat, 10 Dec 2005 21:10:03 -0500
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<1st attachment, "Chapter03.txt" begin>

WARNING: This is a work of erotic fiction. It contains depictions of
nudity and graphic sex.

Author: A Strange Geek
Title: Amanda's Choice
Summary: A 14-year-old girl with a troubled home life is swept away to
another world by an older female lover, where she must make the
ultimate choice between love and freedom.

Part: 3 of 19
Keywords: nosex

Note: Story codes are for this Chapter. See Chapter 0 for complete list
of codes

Copyright A Strange Geek, 2005

Feedback welcome! Please email me at astraYOURngegeek@comMINDcast.net
( lose YOUR MIND to email me )

Or to send anonymous feedback, use the form at bottom of HTML version:

http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/A_Strange_Geek/www/novels/AmandasChoice/Chapter03.html



---------------

For the first time in a very long while, Frank saw only himself when he
looked in the mirror. From what he saw, however, it might have well
been a complete stranger looking back at him.

Frank could not remember himself looking this presentable. The last
time he looked this spiffy, it was to attend his wife's funeral. He was
very thankful that he had been forced to buy himself a new suit. The
only other one he had was the one he had used to say goodbye to Rose,
and it was all well and good that it no longer fit.

Frank raised a hand to his face and ran it over his skin. His hand
trembled slightly, but he hardly noticed. He was smoothly shaven save
for tiny bits of stubble along the shadow of his jawline. He started to
move up to his forehead and stopped. Even though there were still a few
stray hairs sticking out at odd angles, it had taken him awhile just to
get it this state.

He fussed with his tie a bit, only to leave it right where it was.

Frank's hands dropped to his sides and he sighed. This was as good as
it was going to get.

As he stepped out of the bathroom, he smelled something that was both
alien and welcome to him: coffee.

Ever since Frank's doctor had told him he had borderline high blood
pressure, Amanda had taken it upon herself to follow the doctor's
orders when Frank himself was unable to do so. Out went the caffeinated
beverages, out went the salt, out went the fried foods, save for the
occasional treat of bacon, the one thing Frank could not give up
completely. She did not even ask, she just did it, and Frank had
acquiesced without a word. By that time he had started drinking, and
that was something Amanda could do nothing to stop. Frank's diet,
however, was something Amanda could control, and made her feel like she
was doing something positive.

Frank never switched to decaf because it always tasted funny to him.
Amanda had dutifully bought it for him, but he rarely indulged. Now the
tantalizing odor of coffee -- good coffee -- wafted up from the
kitchen.

Frank followed it, and emerged into the kitchen to find Amanda setting
the table for a full breakfast. Frank blinked in surprise and
confusion.

"Good morning!" Amanda said brightly, bustling between the table and
the stove. "Breakfast is almost ready."

"Oh, princess, you didn't go through all this ..." Frank said, trailing
off.

Amanda beamed at him. Frank's heart melted. "I just thought it would be
a good idea to start the day off on the right foot, considering your
interview."

Frank nodded and smiled wanly as he slid uncertainly into a seat. His
eyes spied the coffee-maker, issuing steam and making high-pitched
bubbling noises of a near-empty water reservoir. /My God, she did all
this for me/, he thought in amazement. He took a deep breath and let it
go, clearing his throat awkwardly.

Amanda swept the coffee pot from the machine and poured a cup, and
placed it on the table before her foster father. She gave him a second
look before heading back to the counter. "Actually, aren't you dressed
up a little early for it?"

"Oh, well, I didn't want to wait until the last minute. I'll likely
leave really early for this so I don't get caught in traffic," Frank
said. He tried to pick up the cup by just the handle, and his hand
shook so much that he nearly spilled it. He sighed and gripped the cup
around the edge, even though this made its heat sear him a bit.

Fortunately, Amanda had not noticed.

The truth was, Amanda was the reason he had dressed up early. He wanted
Amanda to see him like this, looking respectable for once, and as proof
that he was living up to his promises. Including the big one.

No more.

Not a drop had passed his lips since Friday. He spent the whole weekend
booze-free. Even when Amanda was gone for so long Saturday, he did not
try to sneak even the least little bit. Indeed, some of it was worry
over what exactly Amanda was doing these days spending so much time
away from the house.

Amanda smiled at him. "Well, you look very handsome," she said as she
started to serve the meal.

Frank smiled. That meant the world to him. His hand even managed to
steady, and he forgot momentarily that he could have really used a
drink. He sipped the coffee and again looked on in surprise. "This is
the real stuff," he said.

"I figured it was okay for once. Anyway, I thought you might want to
make sure you're alert this morning."

Frank appreciated the thought, but he likely was not going to finish
it. If he was shaking this badly now, it was only going to get worse
with caffeine on top of it.

Amanda finished serving and sat down at the table. Frank found
breakfast to be quite good. Amanda did not get as much of a chance to
cook for the both of them anymore these days, but she had not forgotten
anything that Rose had ...

He stopped his line of thought right there. Not today. Not until he got
through this interview.

No more.

"You really do look nice in that suit," Amanda said. "When did you get
it?"

"Last week. I picked it up from the tailor Saturday, while you were
out," Frank said. He paused a moment. "I, uh, remember because I left
in the morning and you were already gone, and you were still gone when
I got home from that and some other errands."

Amanda hesitated only a moment before responding, but in that small
moment, she went from chipper to anxious so fast that she felt her
stomach clench. "Oh?" was all she could think of saying.

"Were you gone all that time?" Frank asked, trying not to sound
accusing.

"Um, yes, I was."

"Where were you? Just curious."

Amanda glanced at him, her eyes roaming his face, as if looking for any
indication that he knew more than he was letting on. "I spent some of
it at the park," she said, her voice edgy.

"Just the park?"

"Well, mostly the park."

Frank's mind raced. He need this to focus on, and hoped Amanda would
forgive him later for grilling her. "Were you with anyone?"

But he had not expected the brief look of panic in Amanda's face at
that point. He slowly put his cup of coffee down.

"Um ..."

"Were you?" Frank asked. "I mean ... if you were, it's okay."

Amanda paused. "It is?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yes, it ..." Frank stopped, then sighed and rolled his eyes. "Or for
crying out loud, listen to me. Amanda, you're fourteen. It's only
natural that you'd start getting ... getting interested in boys."

Amanda blinked. "Boys?"

"So if you're going with someone, you don't have to hide it. If that's
what you've been doing all these days you've been away ..."

Amanda felt relieved. "Oh, no, no. I haven't been going with a boy."

"You can tell me if you are, Amanda, just ..." Frank stopped, his voice
starting to fail him.

"Just what?"

"Just ... you know ... be careful."

Amanda looked blankly at him.

Frank sighed again. This was not the time he wanted to have to discuss
such things! "You know ... take ... take precautions yourself. Don't
rely on him to ..."

Amanda abruptly began to blush. "/Father!/" she cried, not sure whether
to be relieved or panicked at this point. "I am /not/ having sex with
any boys."

At the same time, her blush deepened when she stumbled over the last
three words.

"You're sure of that?" Frank asked.

Amanda actually managed a short laugh. "I think I'd know something like
that."

Frank immediately felt foolish and smiled weakly. "I'm sorry, princess,
I ... I just feel like I haven't been there for you for a long time and
I'm sort of playing catch up."

Now Amanda felt doubly guilty for keeping this from him. "All right,"
she said. "The truth is, I have been seeing someone in a way. I have a
... a friend I meet in the park. A /female/ friend."

/Oh, thank God/, Frank thought, and nodded at his daughter. The last
thing he had wanted to have to do was start obtaining birth-control
prescriptions for his daughter. He silently begged her to wait a few
more years.

"Her name is Sirinna," Amanda said. "I've been, um, talking to her.
She's a really good listener. A good ... comforter."

Frank felt both shame and relief at this. Shame that she had to go to
someone else, relief that she had someone to go to in the first place.

"So that's all," Amanda said quickly. She knew that was a lie, and
anything else she might have said would have been as well, so she hoped
she could end it at that point. "I'm sorry I worried you, father."

"It's okay, princess," Frank said with a soft smile. "Now that I know
what you're doing, I won't worry anymore. Maybe once I get the new job
straightened out, you can invite her to dinner one night."

"Um, yes, perhaps," Amanda said distractedly. "If she's not busy or
anything."



Sirinna visited the special place one last time.

She would be glad for the chance later that day to rid himself of the
garment she was wearing. So used to being naked all the time that it
still felt alien to her. While her status back home allowed her to wear
simple clothing if she desired, she usually went without, simply
because it pleased her, and she knew it pleased Roquan.

That particular day was the worst to be wearing anything, in her view.
The sun had begun the day hazy, but instead of burning off the haze as
it rose, the air grew more sodden and sticky, and now a sultry
stillness lay over everything. There was barely any breath of wind, and
the grasses still lay limp from the morning dew that was loathe to
evaporate into an already saturated air.

Yet when she looked to the spot where Amanda and her would lay during
their sexual trysts, or towards the boulder where she had the girl
kneeling before her bound, obedient but not submissive, she felt a pang
of the loss that was coming. After that day, she would not see Amanda
for a long time. Perhaps never. If Roquan did not send her back to
Earth within at most one year, Amanda would be too old to take Captive.

And there it was again. Guilt. A sense of doing wrong for thinking of
Amanda as a Captive in the first place. But even with Andon, the young
male she had trained and to whom she had grown so close, even with him
she had felt no qualms about Training him.

Yes, Amanda would have been a challenge. Despite that she took to her
bonds without complaint, Sirinna noticed all the subtleties of her
movements. She had wanted to be freed. She obeyed, but she wanted her
freedom.

Sirinna could not sort out her feelings. What did it matter? It would
not change anything. She would be gone by that evening. She almost
wished she could go right at that moment, and not have to face Amanda
one last time.

Sirinna sighed. She stepped over to the side, to a point roughly
halfway between the spot where they had lain and the boulder. She
knelt, her eyes scanning the ground for a few moments before she
reached down and scratched at the dirt with her fingers, and lifted a
small, glassy orb from the ground.

It was no bigger than a marble. It was dark blue and shiny, it's
surface mirror-smooth. It was a blue pearl, a gemstone from her world
used to hold magical energies. This particular one had made this their
special place. Radiating a curiosity shield, it influenced others to
stay out of the area. All the time it was active, Amanda and Sirinna
could not have had any more privacy if they had been inside a house
with the shades drawn. The gown Sirinna wore had a weaker version of
the spell, forcing others to ignore the incongruity of her dress and
manner.

The pearl was also Sirinna's way home.

The Portal energies that connected her world of Narlass with the myriad
of worlds from which it took its slaves needed a focus. That was what
the small blue pearl would provide. Normally a Portal would open up
anywhere within fifty miles of where it was pointed. If someone were
already on the other side, a gemstone such as this could be used as
what Earth people would call a homing beacon.

Sirinna stared at the pearl for a moment, trying to see if it had yet
begun to glow. It took the better part of a day to open a Portal, and
she should see the pearl glow steadily brighter as the energies built.
It had yet to show a flicker, however.

She slipped it into a small pocket in her gown, hoping it was not a
concern. She glanced up at the hazy sun one last time before heading
off to find a secluded spot in which to allow the Portal to open.



Frank gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. His
forehead glistened profusely with perspiration despite the meat-locker
cold air that was blasting from the car's air conditioner. Each time he
brought the car to a stop at an intersection, he felt himself shaking
in his seat.

He swallowed as he waited for a light to turn green, eyes darting
anxiously at images that kept flickering at the edges of his vision.
His throat felt very dry. When the light turned green, he didn't see it
at first, still registering in his mind as red. He almost jumped when
the horn of the car behind him sounded.

Frank tried to take deep breaths to calm himself down, but his anxiety
was only edging upwards, well past what he could account for as just a
case of nerves. Suddenly he gave a startled cry and slammed on the
brake, tires squealing loudly as the car came to a shuddering halt,
another squeal directly behind him.

Frank dove out of the car and staggered around to the front, his heart
pounding and his stomach turning at the mangled flesh he was sure to
see plastered gruesomely across his fender. Yet when he looked, there
was nothing there. Horror mixed with confusion, and he dropped to his
hands and knees and looked under the car, but still found nothing.

Behind his car, the other motorist began shouting obscenities.

"I-I-I'm sorry!" Frank cried, his eyes glazed. "I ... I th-thought
someone had run in front of the car ... I ..."

But by this time the other motorist's patience had worn thin. He peeled
out into the oncoming lane and sped around Frank's car, nearly bowling
Frank over. Shouting one last obscenity, the motorist flipped Frank the
finger as he raced away.

Frank fell against his car, his shaking hand grabbing a tissue from his
pocket and mopping his brow. The air felt suffocatingly warm and tinged
with electricity. The nausea in his stomach made him heave, and he felt
the bile rise to his mouth, but managed to keep his breakfast down,
though barely.

It had to be nerves. This was his first job interview in years. A job
he had to land. It was as simple as that. It couldn't be anything else.
He wasn't sick. And it certainly wasn't the other. No, not that. Not
the DT's. He hadn't drunk heavily or long enough for that.

Frank got back into his car. He had to get a grip. He had to get
through this, for Amanda. That's all that mattered. Yet when it took
him about four tries to grab the car door handle and slam it closed, it
got harder to deny what was happening to him. He balled a hand into a
fist and pounded the steering wheel, and then slumped over it.

When he finally lifted his eyes a minute later, they immediately fell
on the bar just down the street.

Frank heaved a wheezing sigh. His heart hammered in his chest,
perspiration now running from his forehead. He tried to swallow, but
his throat refused to work. He put the car in drive and pulled it off
the street, and into a parking space almost directly in front of the
bar.

Just one.

Only one, that's all he needed.

He had time. He was early. But not too early. Yes, that would force him
to stop.

(No more)

But he had to! He was a nervous wreck! If he could just calm himself
down, just a drink to ease his anxiety, another to loosen him up, and
he'll just glide through that interview.

Frank made his decision. He turned the engine off, stepped out of the
car, straightened his suit, and walked up onto the street and into the
bar.



Sirinna was in trouble.

She wandered in the deep woods that bordered the green-belt that ran
through the town near Amanda's home. The sticky air was no less
oppressive in the shade than he had been in the sunlight, and she now
thought she knew why. She peered into her hand, where she cupped the
pearl, hidden from anyone that might get past the now waning energies
of her shields. It had started to glow a short while ago, but instead
of a sure, steady light, it flickered and oscillated rapidly, like a
candle flame in a light wind.

She did not understand Portal mechanics. That was best left for Mages.
But to prepare her for her task, they instructed her as to what to
expect, including warnings signs of what she was seeing now: a
misaligned Portal.

They told her that any number of things could cause it, and it could
still be safe for transport. However, the transport was the least of
her worries, as the energies now being transmitted to Earth to open the
Portal were unstable. Stable energies would collect quietly and outside
the notice of Earth beings. Unstable energies were still just as
invisible, but created visible effects, usually with the weather.

She sighed. There was frustratingly little she could do, except make
sure she was as far away from any Earth people as possible when the
Portal opened.



Frank loved the feeling. A feeling of doing no wrong. Words flowed
glibly from the tongue. No question was too difficult to answer. Mind
sharp as a tack and uncluttered by the emotional baggage of pain.
Laughter came easy. Everything was amusing and bright.

"/Mr. Consco!/"

The voice knifed through his utopian perceptions, and he blinked as if
he were seeing the inside of the manager's office for the first time.
He paused and took a breath, swaying a bit in his seat, clearing his
throat awkwardly. "Um ... yes, Mr. Hamilton?"

From across the desk, Bill Hamilton fumed behind wire-rimmed glasses,
his balding pate shiny in the humid air. His eyes were hard, regarding
Frank with cold disdain. In his hands was a single piece of paper,
Frank's resume, which he now placed onto the desk and folded his hands
in front of it. "Mr. Consco," he repeated, his voice lower but with no
less an edge to it. "If you are quite through blathering about yet
another point that has nothing to do with this interview ..."

Frank swallowed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hamilton," he drawled.

There was a pause, the only sound the hum of the oscillating fan in one
corner of the room, which did little but stir the sodden air about
them. As it drew close to them again, it blew the resume from in front
of Mr. Hamilton, over one side of the desk and onto the floor. He made
no effort to retrieve it, or even acknowledged with so much as a shift
of his eyes that it had gone.

"Mr. Consco, I agreed to interview you at the request of a friend," he
said in a cool voice. "He insisted your credentials were up to the
task. Clearly he was not well-informed as he thought."

Frank's mouth worked for a few moments before anything came out. "But
... Mr. Hamilton, I have the qualti ...qualificun ... needed skills for
the job, sir. I don't see what the problem is, I ..."

"The problem is very simple, Mr. Consco. You're drunk."

"I am not!" Frank cried. "I would never be drunk for an interview. Not
... not one important like this. I have a daughter, Mr. Hamilton, did
you know that? Well, a foster daughter. Well, I almost adopted her, but
anyway ..."

"You have told me about Amanda three times now!" Mr. Hamilton
exclaimed. He sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Mr. Consco, at this
company, we value personal integrity. Everything our employees do
reflects on this corporation. We are what our employees are. So now you
tell me, Mr. Consco, what would that make us if I hired a drunkard for
this position."

Frank's eyes shimmered. "Not very smart," he muttered.

"Ah, the first coherent thing you have said since you walked in today.
Yes, not very smart. And so now, Mr. Consco, do you think we need to
continue?"

Frank sighed. "No."

"Very good. This concludes your interview. Get out."

Frank rose slowly to his feet. Despite the buzz in his head, his
perceptions had sharpened from the realization of what had happened,
and he walked to the door with a steadier gait.

"Oh, and Mr. Consco?"

Frank turned. "Yes?"

Mr. Hamilton fixed him with a cold stare. "If you are so fond of this
daughter of yours that you drone on about so, I would think she
deserves a far better role model than you are providing at the moment.
To come to an interview for a job with a few drinks under your belt as
you have is one of the most reprehensible acts I have ever seen a
so-called 'father' commit. She's no better than if she had no father at
all. Good day, Mr. Consco."

Mr. Hamilton's words echoed through Frank's mind as he made his way out
of the office, beating back the gentle fog enshrouding his mind from
the booze. His senses sharpened, he had the faculties now to comprehend
his loss.

He staggered out into the street and leaned against his car, parked at
an odd angle and partially into the next space. He lay his arms atop
the roof and dropped his head onto them. He had to do something. He
couldn't lose Amanda like this. The pain of one loss had driven him to
drink. The agony of a second one would kill him.

He had to do something!

But the parting words of his interviewer bore into his mind, like a
torturer applying steel spikes, turning and twisting them as they went
in.

(No better than if she had no father at all)

(I'll do /anything/ not to go back)

He couldn't think. His mind was to wracked with hurt and shame. The
alcohol from earlier was already wearing off too fast. He couldn't be
distracted by any of these things if he was going to plan what to do
next, if he was going to figure out some way out of this.

Frank pushed himself from the car. He straightened his suit. After all,
he had to be presentable for whatever scheme he came up with. He walked
down the sidewalk, his gait wobbling a bit. He reached the
intersection, stepping out into the sunlight, swaying as a wall of heat
hit him, as if he had just stepped into a sauna. He glanced one way
down the cross street, towards the mountains, where billowing clouds
began to boil upwards into the sky. He glanced the other way and made
an "ah" sound as he found just what he needed.

He just wanted one or two. Just enough to take the edge off the pain.
Then he could think clearly and be on top of the world again.



As Amanda rushed home from her last class, the line of thick, cottony
clouds she had seen from the school lunchroom windows had spread out
into a wall of ashen gray, their anvil tops towering and flattening.
Underneath, the gray turned to a sinister black-green, ominously quiet.
The moisture that hung in the air carried a sharp tang of electricity,
the breeze unnaturally still, the neighborhood dead silent.

The hairs on Amanda's arms felt as if they were tingling, like
goosebumps trying to form but failing. The woods lining the opposite
side of the street from her house appeared almost spooky as the sun
slid behind the encroaching wall, not a whisper of movement among their
leaves. Yet the creepy sensation that threatened to come over her was
held at bay by her anxiety to find out how her father's interview had
gone.

As she came up to her house, she glanced on last time over her
shoulder. Flashes of light now began to dance under the thick, dark
smudge low across the skyline. She sighed. She might not be able to go
see Sirinna after all, not with that storm coming in. The funny thing
was that she did not remember any storms being predicted for that
afternoon.

Amanda quickly turned the key in the lock and burst in.

"Father!" she called out. "Father, how did it go? Did you ...? Father?"

The house was as dead silent as the outside had been.

Amanda searched the house, finding only Blackie curled up on her bed.
Her father was nowhere to be found.

Amanda glanced at the time on the clock over the mantel. The interview
was hours ago. Where was he?

She looked at the phone for messages and found none, nor were any
post-it notes on the refrigerator, which is where they agreed to leave
notes for one another when needed. She did not even know if he had been
home yet.

Amanda glanced out the living room window. The clouds did not seem to
want to move, as if keeping vigil just outside the town.

"Dammit," she muttered. She didn't know what to do. Should she be
worried? Should she try to call someone?

Sirinna. She'll know what to do. She did before.

Amanda didn't bother changing clothes this time. She simply ran out the
door, barely remembering to close it behind her.



Sirinna anxiously glanced into her hand again, cupped even further
closed now as she sat on the bench in the park. A few people were
starting to look a bit askance at her as they passed, though their eyes
tended to slide from her quickly, as if they had decided on a logical
explanation after all for the odd woman with the glowing hand. As the
storm loomed higher and darker in the west, fewer and fewer people
appeared.

Finally, the air began to stir. Thick moisture came upon it, along with
the taste of ozone. Lightning arced from the anvil-tops, and the first
low rumbles of thunder rolled in quake-like waves across the park.

In her hand, the pearl had grown much brighter now, but flashed and
flickered madly, energies piling into the Earthly world in a mad tumult
instead of the orderly progression that was intended.

"Sirinna!"

Sirinna snapped her hand closed and pocketed the pearl in one smooth
motion. She jumped up from the bench as Amanda ran towards her. "Hello,
Amanda," she said, the smile on her face forced.

"Sirinna!" Amanda cried, panting out of breath. "I have to talk to
you."

"Amanda, I have something I need to tell you," Sirinna said.

"Sirinna, my father's not home yet from the interview."

Sirinna opened her mouth briefly, but closed it again, saying nothing.
/Don't get involved. You can't get involved anymore./

"He had it hours ago. I don't know if I should do anything," Amanda
said, giving Sirinna a desperate look.

Sirinna sighed. "I can't help you with that, Amanda," she said
somberly.

Amanda stared. "What?"

"Amanda, I ..."

"Didn't you hear what I said?" Amanda cried. "He's not home yet! I
don't know what happened with the interview or where he is!"

"Amanda ..."

"What should I do? I don't know what to ..."

"Amanda, I have to go."

Amanda stopped. Her mouth dropped open, her heart falling into her
stomach. "Wh-what?" she said in a small voice.

"I have to go," Sirinna said. She drew a deep breath. It caught in her
throat, and when she spoke again, her voice was heavy with emotion.
"I'm sorry, Amanda, I ... I probably won't see you again."

Amanda just stared for a few moments, then started shaking her head.

Sirinna inwardly cringed at the look on Amanda's face. "I'm sorry,
Amanda," she said. "I ... I wish it could be different but ..."

"Why do you have to go?" Amanda demanded shrilly. "Why?!"

"I ... I can't explain it. But ... my time here was supposed to be
short ..."

"Wait a minute! Your time here? You ... you /knew/ you were going to be
leaving today?"

Sirinna bit her lip and did not respond, but the pained expression on
her face gave Amanda her answer.

Amanda clenched her hands into fists. "And all that time we spent
together! Everything ... e-everything we did ... that doesn't mean
anything?!"

Sirinna swallowed. "Oh, great gods, Amanda, if you only knew how much
it meant to me."

"But not enough to want to stay, apparently! You won't ever be back?
Ever?!"

"I ... I wish I could tell you ..."

"I don't get this!" Amanda shouted. Tears were streaming down her face.
"You barely tell me anything about you, you get me to talk to you, you
get me to ... t-to l-love you ..."

Sirinna sobbed once.

"And n-now ... oh God ..." Amanda covered her face with her hands,
sobbing her anguish into them. "I thought I had found someone that
cared ... I th-thought maybe if ... i-if things with my father didn't
..."

She choked, her throat refusing to work.

Sirinna looked at Amanda in astonishment. She actually thought that
Sirinna might take her father's place? That she might foster her? Or
adopt her?

/Don't get involved,/ Sirinna thought cynically. /So much for that
warning. To the hells with it. She needs the truth./

Sirinna reached for Amanda. "Amanda, please, listen, maybe I can
explain after all, I ..."

Amanda wrenched her arm out of Sirinna's grip. "/Don't touch me!/" she
screamed.

Now tears were threatening to spill from Sirinna's eyes. "Please,
Amanda, give me a chance to tell you, maybe you'll understand."

"There's nothing you can tell me now!" Amanda shouted, backing off.
"Just go! Go wherever you need to go! Never mind me! No one ever minds
me!"

"Oh, Amanda, that's not true, that's ... wait! Please!"

But Amanda had already turned and run off.

Sirinna turned away, tears sliding down her face.



Frank swayed, his glazed eyes barely seeing what was in front him. His
movements were haphazard, only guesses at what he was supposed to be
doing. He guessed right and rolled through an intersection. He guessed
wrong, and a garbage can sailed across a yard. Another right one, and
he narrowly missed the street lamp. Another wrong one, and he snapped
his mirror off against the side of a parked car, gouging its side.

Nope, it hadn't worked. He drank until the pain was gone, his mind
sharp, feeling like he could do anything, and not a single jot of
inspiration came to him. So he drank some more to see if he could coax
something to flash into his brain. Then he drank to forget the pain of
failing yet again. Then he forgot why he was drinking and just drank.

Oops, another wrong one. At least the car going the other way swerved
in time.

He negotiated a turn, realized he was supposed to go the other way, and
simply flipped a U-turn right there, winging the corner of a car
crossing the intersection, and continued along his merry way.

Just get home. Amanda will help him sort it out. God, she was an angel.
Always ready to help her father. She'll have some ideas. Just get that
infernal social worker off his back. Maybe Amanda could spill something
in her lap again. Yeah, that would work.

Lights flashed behind him. The lightning was getting worse. But it sure
was pretty colors, all red and blue and ...

Briefly, a siren wailed.

"Pull over!" a bullhorn shouted. "/Now!/"

Tears blurred Frank's vision, and the car came to a stop for him when
it rear-ended the car waiting at the intersection ahead of him.

Frank slumped his hands and face over now deployed airbag in front of
him and burst into tears.



Amanda was still in tears when she made it back to her house. The
thunder was constant now, but still low and sedate, like a growling
beast. Tentacles of black-green slithered up from the bottoms of the
clouds and spread out towards the tops, making the thunderheads an evil
black stain across the skies. Lightning arced and flashed, and the
breeze began to rustle the leaves. The neighborhood took on a faintly
sickly greenish pallor from the clouds.

Amanda threw herself onto the sofa, but instead of letting her anguish
go and crying her eyes out like she wanted to, she remained quiet,
letting her tears trickle and stop. She sniffled a few times before
lifting her head.

Quickly she righted herself, sitting up. Blackie jumped into her lap,
and she absently petted the cat as she twisted her head back and looked
at the clock on the wall. It was almost five and he still was not home
yet.

She couldn't let herself feel grief. Sirinna wanted to abandon her?
Fine, let her. She had more important things to worry about.

Blackie squirmed in her lap. He eyed the decorative orb on the table,
and made to leap towards it.

"No, Blackie," Amanda said sharply, some of the conviction returning to
her voice. She spilled the cat back to the floor and stood up.

She had to calm herself. There was likely an explanation for this. Her
father decided to grab some lunch after the interview. Or he went out
to celebrate getting the job with some friends. That may mean he had a
few. Okay, she'll deal with that. Maybe he can be allowed this one
time. Surely he'll get home before dark.

She went to the window and looked out. The wind was starting to pick
up. She could see the branches of the trees swaying. The black of the
clouds approaching the woods across the street were tinged with
poisonous green. She felt a twinge of apprehension. Perhaps she should
turn on the TV and see what the weather report was. This wasn't looking
very good at all.



Sirinna felt the wind whipping at her gown, and she longed to remove
it. She wiped at another tear from the corner of her eye as she walked
through the woods, the branches above her a constant cacophony as the
wind tossed the treetops. Lightning flashed, illuminating the trees
around her in a ghostly snapshot. Thunder grew louder, no longer just
the distant rolls, but cracking with the lightning and deepening to a
ground-shaking finish with each one.

In her hand, the pearl glowed brighter, yet continuing to flash at her.
The Portal was not yet completed. She had some time.

She lifted her eyes towards the east, in the direction where she knew
Amanda's house lay.



Amanda had been correct. It was not good. Severe thunderstorm warning.
Tornado watch. Flash flood warning. High wind warning.

Now it was growing closer to six. She knew that if her father were
somewhere and knew what the weather was like, he would be sitting it
out rather than trying to drive in this. But why didn't he call? Why
couldn't he do just that?

Amanda went to the window again, cracking the slats of the blinds. Each
time she looked, it grew darker, what little sky remaining around the
oncoming storm painted in deep indigo and ocher. She kept hoping she
would see her father's car drive up, or hear the garage door go up.

Something thudded softly behind her.

Amanda turned. "Blackie!"

The cat had pushed the orb from the table onto the floor and was now
swatting at it madly with her paws. Amanda rushed over and picked up
the cat to a protesting meow. "Hush, you," she said, depositing the
feline on the sofa. "Enough with that stupid orb. You ..."

Suddenly, Amanda saw a flicker of headlamps outside.

She rushed to the window and peeked between the slats, but her eyes
were drawn not to the car that was advancing down her street, but to a
tiny flickering blue glow at the edge of the trees across the street,
and the figure holding it ...

Amanda's eyes widened. "S-sirinna??"



Sirinna looked over to Amanda's house with a longing that she could not
completely understand, but that she could not deny. She drew her breath
in slowly and let it go, her sigh choked with emotion. She held the
pearl in her hand without a care as to who might see it.

A tear ran down her cheek. "Goodbye, Amanda," she said softly, and
turned back into the forest.



"Sirinna? Sirinna! Wait!" Amanda cried, even though she knew there was
no way the woman had heard her.

She went to look again, but at that moment, a car slid across her view
and came to a stop outside her house. Her initial hopes were dashed,
and then turned to icy fear when she saw that the car that had stopped
outside was a police cruiser.

"Oh no ..." Amanda said, her stomach clenching.

She watched as the police officer got out of the driver's side, and
another person in plain clothes emerged from the passenger side, a
woman.

Joan Mallard.

Amanda was too stunned, too stricken to utter a sound. Without even
knowing yet exactly what was going on, she knew. This was it. This was
the end.

She backed away from the window, her heart racing. Thunder cracked and
rolled in the ever narrowing distance as they headed up her walk, and
then there was the knock at the door.

Don't answer it. Don't let them in and they can't take you. Maybe
they'll just go away.

The knock came again. "Police," said a voice firmly, though not overly
loud.

Amanda swallowed and reached with her shaking hand to open the door.

The police office and Joan Mallard were framed in sharp relief against
the green-black, the wind blowing and whistling behind them, forcing
the officer to remove his hat and hold it in his hand. The officer
looked pained, as if he did not want to be there. The look on Joan's
face, however, was one that Amanda would never forget and would hate to
the end of her days, a look of malicious glee.

"Amanda?" the officer asked uncomfortably. No, he did not like this
duty at all, and Amanda suddenly liked him for that.

"Y-yes?" she said.

The officer sighed. Yes, he hated this sort of thing. "I'm officer Ted
Randall. Your, uh, father ..."

"Foster father," Joan snapped. "Or should I say ... former foster
father."

The officer made a face. "Mr. Frank Consco," he said instead. "Was
picked up ..."

"Is he all right?" Amanda suddenly cried.

"Oh, he's fine, he's not hurt or anything like that, ma'am. He ..."

"Tell her what he did," Joan said, glasses flashing briefly in the
light. "Tell he what this supposed father did."

"Crying out loud, lady, ease up," Ted snapped. He sighed again.
"Amanda, we picked him up for DWI. He's at the station house now."

Amanda just nodded. She was too numb with shock to react in any other
way.

"Amanda, his foster father status has been revoked," Joan announced, as
if she were simply declaring that it was a Monday. "As you now no
longer have a fosterer, you will have to be taken to the foster care
home."

Amanda finally was able to speak as the cold hard reality of this
statement weighed on her mind. "But ... I-I don't want to go back," she
said. "I want to stay here ... wh-why can't I stay here?"

"Mr. Consco is in jail, Amanda!" Joan declared. "You cannot stay here
any longer without ...

"Jeez, lady, does it have to be right now?" the officer said. He jerked
a thumb over his shoulder. "We got one helluva storm comin' in and ..."

Joan narrowed her eyes. "Do I tell you how to catch criminals?" she
sneered. "Then you don't tell me how to handle foster children."

"I'm not a child!" Amanda shouted. "Why can't you leave him alone? He
just needs some help! Let him get that help and he'll be ..."

"Amanda, enough of this nonsense!" Joan cried. Her next words were
drowned out by a loud peal of thunder that shook the house. " ... you
can be supervised properly and be safe."

"I'm perfectly safe here," Amanda said. She could not say anything of
the things she wanted to say: Please, listen to me. Please let me stay.
Maybe I can find Sirinna. She's just in the trees across the street.
She couldn't have gone far. I'll be safe with her.

/I won't go back!/

"I'm really sorry, Amanda," Ted said. "But ... if she says you gotta
go, you gotta go."

Now tears welled up in her eyes again.

"Come along, now," Joan said, reaching for her.

Amanda jerked her hand away. When Joan stepped into the house and went
to reach for her again, the officer stopped her. "Ease up!" he snapped.
"Have a heart, willya? She's only a girl."

Amanda looked past the two of them at the door, and at the forest
beyond. The wind was tossing the trees to and fro with alacrity now,
and lightning flashed constantly. Yet there no sign of any rain.

She had to do something. She had get away from them. She couldn't go
back. Not anymore. Why had Sirinna said she was leaving, when she was
just in the forest only moments ago? What was going on?

Her eyes slid off Officer Randall and past Joan Mallard to the street
outside the still-open door. If she tried to run for it, the officer
would catch her for sure. Joan she was not so sure of. The woman was
thin as a rail, with a sallow face that suggested she needed more food
and sunshine than she was likely getting now. Or perhaps she liked
looking like an evil hag because it intimidated people.

Amanda's head was spinning, her thoughts trying to go off in too many
directions. She needed time to think.

"C-can I at least get a few things from my room?" she asked in a choked
voice.

"Sure, I don't see why not," the officer answered quickly.

Joan had been about to say something herself, and now glared at Ted.
"You ought to go with her," she said. "So she doesn't try to escape."

Ted, who himself had a young daughter about Amanda's age that he
thought the world of, turned to the woman with a look of indignation on
his face. "Now, look, I've had about enough of this from you, lady.
She's a /little girl/. She's not a criminal. And I doubt very much
she's about to jump out an upstairs window."

Joan did not look the least bit mollified, folding her arms and fuming
silently.

The officer smiled wanly at Amanda, his eyes apologetic. "Go ahead,
honey. You get whatever you need."

Amanda gave him a nod and a nervous smile. As she turned and headed
towards the stairs, she accidentally kicked the glass orb. Blackie
dived from the hand rest of the sofa and dashed after it, batting it
around the carpet and earning an amused chuckle from Ted.

/Stupid cat,/ she thought to herself as she climbed the stairs.



Amanda had no idea what she was going to do. Jumping out of a window
actually sounded like a decent idea to her, if she had any that were
near a tree she could climb down. She ran to her window, not to
contemplate jumping, but to stare out across the street again, towards
the forest.

The wind was howling now, the trees thrashing, the late afternoon
having taken on the appearance of night. Every now and then was the
loud snapping sound downstairs of the cover on the kitchen air vent
being blown open. For a moment she forgot her predicament. She had
never seen a storm this dark and thick. The clouds were almost oily in
appearance, dense and viscous. Great forks of lightning flashed from
cloud to cloud. Yet the ground was still dry. The longer it took for
the rain to come, the worse the storm, that was the maxim in this part
of the country.

There was something surreal about all this. What was Sirinna doing at
the edge of the forest? What was she holding that was making that
strange blue flickering light? Why was there a storm of this magnitude
this early in the season?

Amanda forced herself to pull away from the window. She was getting
distracted. She had to concentrate on the present. What was she going
to do?

She wandered around the room, stuffing random small trinkets into her
pockets, not really looking at what she was doing. She really had
nothing of sentimental value. Everything she had was intangible. A
home. A father. A normal life. Now she had nothing. Even if she had the
most precious jewels on Earth in her room, she wouldn't have cared at
that moment. It would have meant nothing to her.

Amanda wiped new tears from her eyes. She was out of options. She was
out of ideas.

(I'll do /anything/ not to go back)

It was not that the foster home was abusive, though she knew kids that
had been abused. It was simply that there was a constant, oppressive
atmosphere of futility and hopelessness. It felt like it sucked the
life out of her. Worse, the people that ran the homes were either
strict and unyielding, allowing very little freedom to their charges,
or did very little to maintain discipline, allowing bullies among the
children to run the home. So many of the other children were in trouble
with the law, or used drugs or alcohol, that she became guilty by
association with them in the eyes of the police that regularly visited
the home. During her longest stretch at the home without a fosterer --
about three years -- she became so withdrawn that it had taken Rose and
Frank months to bring her to where she could look them in the eye.

Under Rose and Frank, Amanda had blossomed. Now she was going to wither
and die.

Amanda trudged down the stairs. She found Officer Randall crouched on
the floor, pushing around the orb for Blackie, delighting in the cat's
antics. Joan stood by the now closed door, impatient, casting a sour
look at the officer's back.

Joan looked up. "About time," she growled.

Ted looked up and rose to his feet. "Um, ready, Amanda?"

Amanda just nodded silently. Blackie chased the orb to the foot of the
stairs just as Amanda stepped off. She sighed and instinctively picked
up the cat with a scoop of her arm, taking the orb in the other.

"For the last time, Blackie, this is not a toy!" Amanda said, her voice
cracking. Yes, it was the last time, wasn't it?

Amanda deposited the cat on the sofa and was about to turn to place the
orb on the wire stand when Joan called out. "Enough stalling, girl! Get
over here now and let's go!"

Joan opened the door, and it nearly pushed her off her feet with the
force of the wind behind it. The air shrieked as it blew into the room,
thunder booming loudly.

"Good Lord!" Ted cried as he took a step towards the door. "Lady, we're
not taking her out in that."

Amanda looked at the orb in her hand, lifting it slightly. Blackie, who
was still quite convinced it was playtime, bounded atop the hand rest
and stared at the orb expectantly. Amanda looked from the orb to the
cat, and then from the cat to the open front door.

And an idea came to her.

"Look, lady," the officer said, going up to her, but still leaving her
path to the door free. "That storm out there? That's gonna either start
a twister going or drop some mean hail any minute now."

"This girl cannot stay in this house another moment!" Joan shouted
above the fury of the storm.

Amanda dropped the orb to the carpet. Blackie tensed on his haunches,
golden eyes fixed and unblinking. "It's all right," she called out to
them. "I'll ... I'll come."

Ted turned and looked at her. "Well, wait a minute, with this storm
coming up ..."

But Amanda had already took one step forward, and as she brought her
other foot forward, she gave the orb a swift kick.

It shot across the carpet, bounced on the entryway floor once, and
disappeared over the threshold and out the door.

Blackie launched himself from the sofa and streaked out the door after
it.

"/Blackie!!/" Amanda screamed.

"Oh, Jesus," Ted muttered, and rushed towards the door. "I'll find
him."

"/You'll do no such thing!/" Joan shouted, standing in his way.

"Oh God, Blackie!" Amanda cried, forcing tears to well up in her eyes
again. She did not have to try very hard. "P-please, don't let him get
hurt, he's all I have left!"

Was that too much? Well, it worked. Ted gave Amanda a pained, heartfelt
look, pushed Joan aside, and dived out into the storm.

"You get back here!" Joan screamed after him, standing at the threshold
with her back to Amanda. "I'll report you for this! You hear me?"

Amanda started to rush up from behind the social worker, intending to
shove her out the door and slam it closed behind the both of them. But
just as she was a second away from her goal, Joan abruptly whirled
around and grabbed her hard by the wrist, her grip surprisingly strong.

"Oh, no you don't," Joan snarled, backing Amanda up a few steps.

"Ow, you're hurting me!" Amanda cried.

"Then stop acting like a stupid, spoiled brat!"

"Wait, there he goes!" Amanda barely heard Ted shout over the wind.

A bristling black blur rocketed between Joan Mallard's legs, the wind
and thunder finally convincing the feline that perhaps playtime was
over. The cat dived under the sofa and vanished from view in a flicker
of bushy tail.

Joan turned her head, distracted by the movement.

Desperate, Amanda did the only thing she could think of. She rounded on
Ms. Mallard and put her all her strength into one, vicious kick.

Her foot connected solidly with Joan's shin. The woman screamed, Amanda
wrenching free of her hand as the woman fell to the floor. Amanda
jumped over her and leaned into the door, wrestling it closed against
the wind and throwing the deadbolt just as the surprised officer
started up the steps.

Amanda turned and ran. Joan clutched at her jeans but she kicked her
away, and bounded across the living room and into the kitchen towards
the back door. Behind her, the police officer was pounding on the front
door, and Joan was already pulling herself painfully to her feet to
open it. Just as Amanda was diving out onto the back porch, the front
door came open, and the wind slammed the back door shut with such force
the glass shattered in her wake.

Amanda nearly collided with the railing over the backyard. She was
free.

But she was pointed the wrong direction!

She had to get around to the front, but the only way from here was
through the side gate, and she did not have the key. She heard shouts
behind her. Seizing on an idea, she vaulted the railing and landed hard
on the grass below. She looked around her. It was so dark out here now,
the inky clouds boiling up over her house, spreading out towards the
relatively untouched eastern horizon.

Amanda heard the boards of the porch creak. "She's got to be out here
somewhere!" she heard Joan shouted.

Amanda found the small gate to the space under the porch where they
stored firewood. Mercifully, it was unlocked. She opened it and
squeezed herself inside.

Only moments later, two feet landed almost within arm's reach of her as
the police officer jumped over the railing himself. "She could be
anywhere, Ms. Mallard!" he cried.

"Idiot! She couldn't have gone far! She's probably hiding in someone's
yard. Go find her."

"In this? Are you crazy?!"

"Do you want to be responsible for her getting hurt?" Joan said in a
silky voice. "Or did you care more about her cat than about her?"

The officer sighed, and started running for the back fence.

Amanda was never more happy for the social worker's manipulative
personality than she was then.

She watched Ted stop at the fence briefly, holding her breath. If he
turned around at that moment, he would surely see her. After a few
agonizing moments, he finally reached up and pulled himself over the
fence and into the neighboring yard, calling Amanda's name.

Above her, the boards creaked, and glass crunched. A few seconds later,
the back door opened and closed.

Amanda quickly crawled out from her hiding space, while she still had
the fence between her and the police officer's line of sight. She raced
around to the stairs and took them in two steps. She did not hesitate,
she did not think, she did not reason. She just acted. She burst into
the kitchen, a very astonished Joan only halfway turned around when
Amanda barreled into her, arms raised like a shield, one of Amanda's
elbows catching her in the sternum. Joan stumbled to one side, a foot
becoming entangled in a leg of one of the chairs, tripping her and
sending her tumbling hard to the floor.

Her heart feeling as if it were about to burst from her chest, Amanda
ran across the house and opened the front door. The wind yanked the
door out of her hand and slammed it back against the coat closet door,
the knob splintering the wood. Amanda could not breathe, having to turn
her head to one side in order to gasp air against the onslaught.

With Joan Mallard screaming her rage behind Amanda, she plunged out
into the darkness, just as the first large, thick raindrops began to
splatter on the ground.



Sirinna clutched at the tree as the glow in her hand grew to blinding
levels. She had forgone her gown, which was just as well, as the fury
of the storm above her had begun to be unleashed. Rain came down in
sheets, the treetops partially shredded by a tempest they were not able
to withstand so early in the year, offering no shelter. Water ran down
her body in rivers, her hair limp and plastered against her back.
Lightning occasionally revealed large, brackish puddles on the ground.

It was almost time. Another minute or two at most and the Portal would
open.

Her ears rang from the constant cacophony of wind and thunder. She
shivered violently in the now suddenly cold air. Some of the raindrops
coming down on her actually stung as they hit, the droplets striking
with a hard, staccato beat on the trees and ground that seemed to grow
louder and more ominous.

Then, over the rage of the storm, she thought she heard something, and
looked up.



"Sirinna!" Amanda cried as she stumbled blindly through the trees. The
rain mixed with her tears, making it near impossible to see. The wind
tore at her body, sucking away her breath one minute, and slamming her
against a tree the next. Somehow she remained on her feet.

"Sirinna!" she screamed, her cries interspersed with hysterical sobs.
Her clothes were soaked, clinging heavily to her body, making it even
harder for her to walk.

"/Sirinna!/"

Amanda felt mad with anger, worry, and fear. She knew she was being
foolish, that this had been the worst thing she could have done. Yet
the thought of the foster home and having to face a loveless life with
no family and no one who cared for her forced her to go on.

Amanda stumbled and nearly fell, gripping a tree for support, turning
her face out of the wind to gasp in air. As she did, she caught a
flicker of light out of the corner of her eye.

"/SIRINNA!!/"



Sirinna had heard the voice. She had recognized it. Yet it wasn't
possible.

The next moment, something came running at her from the darkness. She
lowered her hand and let the light from the pearl illuminate the area
around her, revealing the figure coming towards her.

"Great gods! Amanda!"

"Sirinna, help me!" Amanda cried in a shrill voice, her eyes wild with
fear and hysteria.

"What are you doing out here? It's not safe out in this storm!"

"Sirinna, please! Help me! They want to take me back! I don't want to
go back! /I won't go back!/"

Sirinna's head was spinning. She gripped the girl's arms firmly.
"Amanda, calm down, I can't understand you. Who wants to take you back?
Take you back where?"

"The foster home! I can't do it! Don't make me do it!"

Sirinna's heart sank. Something had happened, and Frank was no longer
her foster father. It was what Amanda had said was her worst fear.

"Sirinna, please, wherever you're going, take me with you," Amanda
begged.

"Amanda, I ... I can't! I can't do it. I wish I could but ..."

Amanda broke down into tears. Sirinna felt it clutch at her heart.
"Amanda, I wish I had time to explain it, but where I'm going is not
someplace you can follow. Not now. Maybe ... maybe some day, but ..."

"When?" Amanda demanded. "When can I ..." She stopped and trailed off,
blinking, staring at Sirinna as if seeing her for the first time.
"Sirinna ... why ... why are you naked?"

Before Sirinna could answer, a bolt of blue-white energy crashed into
the ground behind her.

Amanda screamed.

It was not lightning, for a bolt of lightning would not then arc and
turn in upon itself, forming a crackling orb of energy suspended above
the ground. As the blinding energies coruscated across the intangible
surface of the globe, they moved faster and faster, spreading out into
a single diaphanous sheet of energy. There was another loud crack, and
the sphere turned inside-out, expanding into the distance as a long
silvery tunnel.

The Portal had opened.

Amanda's jaw dropped.

"Do you see this behind me?" Sirinna said. "It's called a Portal. I'm
not from this world, Amanda. Do you understand me now? Do you
understand why you can't come with me?"

Amanda was too stunned to reply. She kept staring at the slowly
spinning tunnel behind the hole in reality that had opened not five
feet from her.

"I don't have time to explain it all," Sirinna said. "Where I live is
very, very far from here. I can't take you back there. Do you
understand this? Do you ..."

The last of her words were drowned out. From the west, the cadence of
the storm had changed, rising to a strident crescendo, like a
high-pitched avalanche. It raced towards them, rising to deafening
proportions, a growl, and then a roar, and then a maelstrom. As it
crossed over them, the highest branches of the trees were pummeled
first, leaves and twigs stripped instantly, falling down to the ground
along with the shattered fragments of solid ice. In short order, what
little shelter had been left by the wind was rapidly stripped away, and
in seconds the ground became littered with baseball-sized hailstones.

"Amanda!" Sirinna screamed, yanking Amanda towards the tree. This did
no good. Dangerously solid chunks of ice smashed against the trees, the
shards glancing off the both of them, stinging hard.

Amanda panicked, and tried to run. Sirinna grabbed her, but not before
a single large wind-driven hailstone fell unimpeded and glanced off her
arm, causing her to shriek.

"You can't stay here!" Sirinna cried, just barely audible over the
violence of the storm. "There's no shelter!"

She looked back towards the Portal.

/Roquan is going to punish me for sure for this!/ she thought ruefully.

"Amanda, hang on to me! Tightly!"

Amanda sensed what was going to happen, and threw her arms around
Sirinna, then clenched her teeth as white-hot pain flared through one
of them from where the hailstone had struck her.

"Hold on, Amanda, and whatever you do, /don't let go!/"

Amanda nodded quickly.

"All right, here we go!"

Sirinna and Amanda plunged towards the Portal together. There was a
blinding flash in their wake as the entered the tunnel, the two of them
disappearing into the distance, vanishing in seconds. Not long after,
the Portal closed, collapsing in on itself with a loud, ground-shaking
boom.

Above the forest, the fury of the storm began to wane.
<1st attachment end>


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