Ekphrasia

The forest glows brightest when no one can see it. Some humans ponder the cruel irony of this immutable fact, but such melancholy makes plain their greatest folly. Humans can never accept that some things are [[not made for them to know.->Forest 1]]

Mother Night's cool blue cloak is cast over these autumn woods, its creatures beckoned into slumber or rousing now for the evening hunt. Beneath a skywards drapery of rustling leaves, blooms unfurl and lichens shimmer, luminous pollen drifting on the breeze. Bit by bit, petal by petal, the woods begin to breathe light, and a symphony of color makes itself known. And it is from this wondrous display that [[a still-more wondrous beast emerges.->Forest 2]]

A shimmering white coat peeks through branches and over shrubs, bright like stardust in the subtle glow of the joyous flora. Cloven hooves press into grass and soil, soundless, tender. A silver mane ripples in a subtle breeze, and immense, dark eyes look fondly over the scene from beneath a single swirling horn. The Unicorn marvels at the splendor of its home, [[for only a moment.->Forest 3]]

And then the moment ends. Every light snuffs in a sharp, fearful ripple, like anxious breath on a candle's flame. The Unicorn stands straight, eyes fixed westward. And then it turns, galloping into the darkness once more, soon lost among the trees. From the west, a sickly orange glow draws near, hand in hand with a raucous clamor. This time, [[the Unicorn will not escape.->Awaken]]

I stir from my trance. Tinny pop music and a sour taste in my throat greet me, as does a can of peas in my white-knuckled grip. Getting my bearings takes a second, but once I do, I swallow and set the can on the shelf. It gives a hollow clink. I'm at work. A box-laden stocking cart stands patiently beside me, stuffed with items awaiting their turn on the shelf. Sweet corn and drake peas, water chestnuts and magic beans. Once they’re placed on this shelf or that, they'll soon be bought, gutted, and trashed, as is the life cycle of consumer goods. Yippee. [[I need to focus.->Focus]] [[But the dream...->Dream]]

The vision of those woods, slowly aglow then sharply pitch-black, creeps into my mind again. I shake my head out, jostling my corporate-mandated ponytail. I can't let the dream slow me down more. I was already late to work after an awful night's sleep, and I have quotas to meet. (set: $jobProspects to $jobProspects+2) I can't get bogged down by a fairy tale. [[Not again.->Hours Pass]]

I flex my fingers, sore from the vice-grip I had on the can. I woke up at 1 AM last night thanks to that damn dream, then was late to work in spite of never getting back to sleep. There's no way in hell I'll be meeting my quota for today if I keep zoning out. Yet something in me aches. Having the dream again, after so long, was... Unsettling. Terrifying. And //exhilarating.// [[The dream matters more thjan anything.!->Zoney]] [[I need to pay rent...->Struggling]]

Hours pass. I slog through the aisles, stocking each shelf as tidily and quickly as I can. Every once in a while, a housewife or anxious teen asks a question, and I direct them as best as I can. It's monumentally dull. The lights far above start to make me dizzy barely an hour into my shift, and the gnawing in my gut from two missed meals grows overwhelming soon after. But I press on. I'm used to it. Frankly, I've had worse jobs. This may not be what I want to spend my whole life doing, but I'm not optimistic that I'll end up [[anywhere else.->Anywhere Else]]

I should care about work, but I just... don't. That dream haunted me like a childhood friend I never said goodbye to, and now it's found me again, after ten uneasy years. I deserve a little grace. Right? My mother's face cuts through the blooming woods, brows knit, eyes anguished. My heart seizes. What am I thinking? She needs me. She depends on me for //everything//. I owe her my life, as she's fond of reminding me. She wouldn't take the dream's return as an excuse for coming up short on rent... and neither would the landlord. Even if I don't care, [[what choice do I have?->Hours Pass]]

My mother's face flashes before my eyes, brows knit, eyes anguished. I swallow again, but the sour feeling is back in my throat. She depends on me. For rent, for groceries, for everything. Some old dream coming back is hardly an excuse for coming up short on rent, in both her eyes and my landlord's. (set: $jobProspects to $jobProspects+1) [[I need to focus.->Hours Pass]]

[[But what I woudln't give... ->Anything.]] .]]

Something glimmers in the corner of my eye as I shuffle tins of spam around. What is it? [[It's nothing.]] [[It's everything.]]

I swallow again, though that awful sour taste hasn't let up. The light grows brighter. I hear... a nicker? My heart hammers. My head aches. I look up. [[And time stands still.]]

My heart starts hammering. My mind races, hopes shooting sky high in spite of my common sense. My hand quakes as I set down the last tin. (set: $wildMagic to $wildMagic + 1) I turn towards the light. [[And time stands still.]]

I'm hallucinating. Or I never woke up. Or the bus got totaled and took me with it. Or I've finally, earnestly flung myself far, far off the deep end. But if seeing is believing, then there sure as hell is a unicorn standing in front of me. It nickers again and tosses its ethereal head. Its mane flutters back down against its neck slowly, as if it would rather float through the air. A cloven hoof brushes gently against the dirty tile beneath it, too grimy for such a pure beauty, and yet the beast is unbothered. I don't feel dizzy anymore. But I do have to [[remind myself to breathe.]]

When I do, it comes as a sharp, labored gasp that stings my lungs. I look around, hand jumping to the stocking cart near me, as if it'll support me in what must be the biggest mental break of modern history. Cool, ambivalent metal greets my grip. I blink. Again. No, again. The unicorn is still there, watching me with worry in its dark, tender gaze. It does not come closer, and neither do I. I just stand there, helpless, confused, now hyperventilating – at least until I notice a customer nearby, watching with wide, old eyes, clutching her purse with weathered hands. Can she not [[see it?]]

No. Of course she can't. I look at the Unicorn again, then back to the elderly woman. She opens her mouth, then closes it, then tries again: "Miss, are you quite alright?" (set: $ladyTattled to false) Good question. [[Best to be honest.]] [[Best to lie.]] [[Best to avoid the question entirely.]]

I take in as deep and steadying a breath as I can manage, then send her a sincere but apologetic smile. "Not entirely, ma'am, but..." But what? //But what???// What could I possibly tell to this old lady that won't make her say SOMETHING to the manager? If he knows I'm spooking customers, I'll be fired in an instant, then I'll be on the streets in a week, not to mention my mother – I snap back to reality. Bright lights, tinny pop, a customer tilting her white-haired head at me with growing concern. I smile a little broader. "But I'll be okay. It's the lights, you know? Don't worry, my break's in just a few minutes." I pause. "Can I help you with something?" I don't know or where I got that excuse, but it seems to do the trick. The woman relaxes somewhat and shakes her head, then turns and shuffles off. [[I look back to the Unicorn.]]

I make another futile attempt at swallowing the acrid taste in my throat, then send the woman a gentle, placid smile. "I'm okay, ma'am. Thank you." She looks around a bit, then leans in a bit, chewing her lip. "Are you sure, dearie? You seem awful overworked..." Oh, if only you knew, granny. Still, I chuckle, shake my head, and give the first excuse I can think of. "The lights are just getting to me today. Don't worry, I have a break in just a few minutes!" The old woman weighs her options, then nods and shuffles off without another word. My taut shoulders slump. [[I look back to the Unicorn.]]

I shudder a bit, reflexively, then straighten. My face twists into a placid, plastic smile, and I incline my head. "Can I help you with something, ma'am?" The shift from half-baked panic attack to Customer Service Mode is obviously unsettling to the poor woman, but after a moment she shakes her head and turns to leave. It seems she's decided she ought to leave me be... which is true. What she does now is none of my damn business. (set: $jobProspects to $jobProspects - 1)(set: $ladyTattled to true) I take a breath, and [[I look back to the Unicorn.]]

The unicorn is… still there. And it inclines its head to me. I don't know what to do except nod to it, but it seems pleased by that, somehow, ears flicking cheerily. Then it turns and... walks off? A hoarse little "no" escapes my lips before I can even think to contain it. I take one step in its direction, then freeze. (if: not $ladyTattled)[I lied to that lady. ] My break isn't for at least another hour, and if I'm caught slacking on duty again, the consequences could be dire. But what if I never get a chance like this again? Then again, what if I'm absolutely bonkers and I risk my job for a hallucination? [[Then it'd be worth it.->Follow It]] [[That's not a risk I can take.->Stay]]

Blood roars in my ears. My hands quaver, then clench into fists, then relax. I take as deep a breath as I can manage... And I follow the Unicorn. (set: $wildMagic to $wildMagic + 3) At the end of the aisle, I look towards produce and see it standing among the vegetables, waiting for me. It whinnies, a bell-like sound of pure joy, then canters towards the stockroom doors. Just as someone else pushes out with a box of tomatoes, it slips in. [[I'm close behind.]]

It hurts. It hurts more than anything. But I'm doing the right thing. (set: $jobProspects to $jobProspects + 3) I suck in a deep, slow, breath and let it out. I watch the Unicorn's light fade. And then I turn back to the shelf and [[keep working.]]

I pass through the stockroom like a ghost. No one stops me — they just carry on with their own work, breaking down boxes and loading carts. I ignore them right back. My focus is laser-like on the Unicorn, and I stumble after it with the grace of a foal but the purpose of a queen. It rounds a corner, and when I catch up, it's gone... but there's a door there that leads to the alley behind the store. Through the window set in that door, something shimmers and shifts. I've come this far, right? [[I open the door.]]

I step into the alley as the door slips shut behind me, gaze lifting from the threshold to my surroundings. Ordinarily, this quiet lane has nothing of note but cardboard boxes and a dumpster, sometimes a few delivery trucks. But today, what meets my gaze is impossible. Or at least highly improbable. Definitely inexplicable. But, above all else, it's overwhelmingly beautiful. Glowing flora has somehow burst through the ground and reclaimed it. Glistening vines crawl up the outer walls of the store, bursting with plump fruits I've only seen in paintings. Vibrant, flickering pollen floats on the late morning breeze, cast loose from huge, colorful blooms that shed a similar light. The old asphalt ground was cracked before, but now it's shattered and lumpy, having lost its battle with every stalk and stem that dared to challenge it. At the center of it all, the Unicorn turns to face me. It's hard to tell for sure, but I think it's happy. Is... is this real? [[No. I must be dreaming.]] [[Yes. I need it to be.]]

Yes. I'm dreaming. I mutter it to myself, a hand dragging through my tied-back hair. The Unicorn must hear me say it, because its head dips morosely. (set: $wildMagic to $wildMagic - 1) It's only now, seeing it from this side, that I notice something different. A scar, long and jagged, rips along the Unicorn's flank, like something had slashed through it long ago. Now that I’m looking I see it walks more carefully on that leg, favoring the opposite side. My expression twists, and the Unicorn makes a worried sound and trots closer. When I meet its dark eyes again, they glint with sorrow. Of course. [[The hunters.]]

I don't know what to say. What could I possibly say? Fortunately, the first words to escape my mouth are incredibly smart: "Um. Wow." (set: $wildMagic to $wildMagic + 1) If I had to guess, that's about the reaction the Unicorn expected. It nickers and gives its silvery mane a proud little toss, hooves shuffling among the tall, fragrant grass that decimated the asphalt. It's only now, seeing it from this side, that I notice something different. A scar, long and jagged, rips along the Unicorn's flank, like something had slashed through it long ago. Now that I’m looking I see it walks more carefully on that leg, favoring the opposite side. My expression twists, and the Unicorn makes a worried sound and trots closer. When I meet its dark eyes again, they glint with sorrow. Of course. [[The hunters.]]

It makes perfect sense. Nearly every night for almost a year, I watched a mob of humans stampede through an ancient forest in search of the Unicorn, but I always woke up before it was actually caught. Still, the nauseous churn in my gut had my younger self convinced the poor creature had been slain. The trauma was enough to make me a vegetarian... and it also kindled an undying fixation on art history. Surely if no modern magic could explain the dream, then maybe old magic could. There had to be a reason. I had no choice but to give up after a while. Chasing that dream cost me my mental health, not to mention my social status. But part of me never let go. That part of me must feel awful smug right now, as that very Unicorn leans in to ruffle my hair soothingly with its nose. My forehead tingles with magic at the subtlest brush against it, [[enough to make me shiver.]]

What follows is an excerpt from the upcoming story game //Ekphrasia.// The complete tale of Diane and her dream will be available exclusively on the Tales platform, where it will be playable for free on any iPhone or Android device. To play this teaser, click on bold lavender words. These will take you to the next passage. If there are multiple bold lines, that means you have a choice! Please be aware that this excerpt contains strong language and themes of mental illness, derealization, and implied hallucination, though whether Diane's visions are "real" or not is entirely up to you. That's all. [[Have fun!->Opening]] (set: $jobProspects to 0) (set: $wildMagic to 0)

I reach up, unsure, towards the Unicorn’s head. To my surprise, when it sees my quaking hand rise, it leans down to meet my palm, giving a happy little whinny. My heart races. If my younger self could see me now, petting a gods-damned Unicorn... maybe she'd forgive me for getting trapped in retail. But none of that matters right now. What matters is that this Unicorn has a velvety coat and a sweet disposition, and I am petting it. It's right then, in that perfect moment, that I hear something. Something that makes my smile drop and my stomach churn. A crowd. No, a mob. //Hunters.// My head snaps to face the sound. A sickly orange glow bleeds into the alley. The luminous flora recedes. And just as I look towards the Unicorn, my breath racing in horror – It's gone. Everything. All of it. Gone. I'm standing alone in an empty alley. The asphalt beneath me is beat up, but no more than yesterday. As the cold, hard world settles around me, [[I feel sick.]]

I make it to the break room and collapse in a red plastic chair. I tilt my face to the ceiling, studying the bland tiles above me. They provide nothing substantial enough to hold my attention, so my mind wanders home. Not the shitty apartment I share with my mother, no. The museum. The New Willenglow Historical Art Museum is the closest thing I have to a home in the whole damn city, and I think of it fondly. I'd pay it a visit after work, just to wander through the ancient stone hallways for the billionth time, but I don't feel energetic enough for the walk. Really, I don't feel anything. Even my fingers are barely responsive. [[It'd be funny if I felt like laughing.]]

Something happened. Maybe it was just my mental breakdown, maybe it was something more. Something magical. But either way, //something// happened back there... and I may never know what it was. (set: $wildMagic to $wildMagic + 1) Still, is my curiosity worth being homeless for? I make it to the break room and collapse in a red plastic chair. I tilt my face to the ceiling, studying the bland tiles above me. They provide nothing substantial enough to hold my attention, so my mind wanders home. I want to go home. Not to the shitty apartment I share with my mother, no. To the museum. The New Willenglow Historical Art Museum is the closest thing I have to a home in the whole damn city, and it's calling to me now more than ever, in this aching, barely-there state. I'm on the verge of dissociating over a unicorn. [[It'd be funny if I felt like laughing.]]

Soon, I feel nothing again. My headache subsides and the sour taste fades. I can press on with ease, so I do. In fact, I somehow empty my u-boat. When I wheel it back to the stock room, it's time for my lunch break. It's as if nothing happened. [[Nothing at all.]] [[But something did happen.]]

Coworkers start filtering in for their own lunch breaks, and I reluctantly compose myself. They all know I'm unstable, but it just looks bad if I'm staring at the ceiling without anything to eat. For that reason, in spite of my negligible appetite, I stumble up to the magnet-dotted fridge, open the door... (if: $wildMagic is >1)[[[and pause.->Flower 1]]](else:)[[[and pause.->Flower 3]]]

A flower. There's a flower on my lunch. Not just any flower, either - it's glowing, with a similar ethereal light to the Unicorn's. The lily-like stamens are a luminous white, with the curling petals bearing similarly bright veins and silvery-blue edges. I look around. No one is watching me. Hell, I have no reason to believe anyone can see the flower but me. But when I go to lift it gingerly, I can feel the cool, fuzzy stem between my fingers. It's real, if only to me. [[Maybe that's enough.]]

Thank you for reading this teaser for //Ekphrasia!// Did you have fun? You ended the teaser with a WILD MAGIC score of $wildMagic. (if: $wildMagic is > 3)[You're a true believer!](elseif: $wildMagic is 2)[You're pretty faithful!](else:)[You're not terribly convinced.] You also had a JOB PROSPECTS score of $jobProspects! (if: $jobProspects is > 2)[You're sure to get a raise with that performance.](elseif: $jobProspects is 2)[Hey, not too shabby!](else:)[That could be bad.] [[Click here if you'd like to play again!->Title]] (if: $ladyTattled is true)[One more note: That lady you talked to definitely went to the manager. Just saying. Sorry.]

I stumble inside and lean against the doorframe. My eyes blur with tears that I barely blink back. It doesn't make sense – none of it makes sense. I'm scared, I'm alone, and I'm definitely going to have hell to pay for ditching work to stand in an alley. I twist my head to check the clock above the door. What had felt like ten minutes was actually an hour and a half. It's time for my lunch break. But how am I supposed to eat in this state? I tell myself... [[It was real. It mattered.]] [[It was a hallucination. I'm sick.]] [[It was nothing. Supress it.]]

I squeeze my eyes shut and suck in a breath. My forehead and fingers are still tingling from the Unicorn's magic. It was real, realer than anything I'd ever experienced. It has to be. I need it to be. I stumble out. My 3-tier is exactly where I left it, sitting slightly off-kilter by the canned proteins. I operate nearly on autopilot as I pull it back into the stockroom and shuffle off to take lunch. The break room is drafty and plain, and some coworkers sit in cliquey clumps here and there. I can feel their eyes glued to me, judgmental and calculating, but I don't owe them an explanation. I don't owe them shit. (if: $wildMagic is >1)[I open the fridge... [[and pause.->Flower 2]]](else:)[I open the fridge... [[and pause.->Flower 3]]]

That sour taste from earlier returns to my throat. My head spins, eyes blurring all the more fiercely with tears. I'm beyond fucked up. I'm broken. If anyone were to find out about this, I'd be flung into the psych ward in a heartbeat. (set: $wildMagic to $wildMagic - 2) I couldn't handle that. I couldn't. But maybe I deserve it. It takes all my strength to stagger out, barely composed, and find my 3-tier. It's exactly where I left it, sitting slightly off-kilter by the canned proteins. I lean on it for a moment, forcing my breath to steady, then pull it back to the stockroom with leaden limbs. I'd go to the break room to grab my lunch, but I can't. I won't. Instead, I find a quiet spot in the stock room and sit on the concrete floor, clutching my legs to my chest and hiding my face in my knees. Somehow, no one finds me. Or maybe they just let me be. Why would they even try? [[Everyone knows I'm sick.]]

I squeeze my eyes shut and suck in a breath. I can't overthink this. If I do, I'll spiral, and that ends in suicide, a psych ward, or worse. (set: $wildMagic to $wildMagic - 1) Whatever happened in that alley doesn't matter. Whatever I saw or didn't see doesn't matter. What matters is that I blew an hour of work when I was already late. I'd keep working, but I'm legally required to take a lunch break now, though I'm not sure my stomach can handle it. I stumble out anyway. My stocking cart is exactly where I left it, sitting slightly off-kilter by the canned proteins. I operate nearly on autopilot as I pull it back into the stockroom and shuffle off to take my break. The break room is unforgivingly cold. Coworkers sit in cliquey clumps around plain tables, poking their lunches around. I can feel their gazes, judgmental and calculating. It makes my temples throb, as if amplifying the pressure of the cruel thoughts clouding my mind. (if: $wildMagic is >1)[I open the fridge... [[and pause.->Flower 2]]](else:)[I open the fridge... [[and pause.->Flower 3]]]

I only realize the workday is over when I stop hearing footsteps and chatter through the grainy filter of my distant mind. My body barely works, but ‘barely’ is enough to get me off the ground, shambling to the break room to collect my things. In that same strange haze, I take off and hang my vest, then go to the fridge to retrieve my neglected lunch. After a moment of staring vacantly at the white, magnet-speckled door, I reach for the handle and pull... (if: $wildMagic is >1)[[[then pause.->Flower 2]]](else:)[[[then pause.->Flower 3]]]

A flower. There's a flower on my lunch. Not just any flower, either - it's glowing, with a similar ethereal light to that which the Unicorn shed. The lily-like stamens are a luminous white, with the curling petals bearing similarly bright veins and silvery-blue edges. I have no reason to believe anyone could see the flower but me. Maybe it didn't even exist until I opened the door. But when I go to lift it gingerly, I can feel the cool, fuzzy stem between my fingers. It's real, if only to me. [[Maybe that's enough.]]

A flower. There's a flower on my lunch. Not just any flower, either - it's glowing, with a similar ethereal light to that which the Unicorn shed. The lily-like stamens are a luminous white, with the curling petals bearing similarly bright veins and silvery-blue edges. I swallow hard and reach towards it... but just as I touch the stem, I blink and it's gone. Still, my fingertips feel cool, and I remember the feel of them brushing against the fuzzy, organic surface vividly. It was real, for just a moment. [[Maybe that's enough.]]

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