Mirage

"Here milady. Wear this."

Eirena flushed. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been called "milady," or "lady," or any other term that might be considered a term of respect. Then again, she could remember so little of the time before she had been placed into magical slumber, so perhaps the templar's words meant nothing. Perhaps he called everyone else in the party "milady." Or perhaps, she reflected, she was overanalysing and should just take the damn scarf.

"This is…lovely," the enchantress said, taking the scarf in her hands, letting its silk run through her fingers, marvelling at its red and yellow pattern. "Where did you get it?"

"Caldeum. A merchant said it once belonged to a hero who climbed a mountain in a long lost land."

"And do you believe him?"

The templar shrugged. "I do not know. Though I believe you have more need of it than any of us."

Eirena glanced around. She'd met with the group of travellers in the desert of Kehjistan, and had offered her services, yet few of them seemed that talkative. Well, except for the scoundrel who called himself Lyndon, and as he let his tongue run loose, it appeared that the five travellers were either engaged in such verbal sparring, or trying to stay out of it. So far, only the templar named Kormac had paid her any attention.

"The sand is fierce here," the templar said, gesturing to the particles of dust that were carried on by the breeze. "Best that you have some protection."

"I…yes," Eirena said. "That would be nice."

Silently, the enchantress wrapped the scarf around her. It was warmth she could do without – the sun above Kehjistan cooked everything it touched, and already, her entire body was turning shades of red or pink. But at least the scarf offered her some protection against the sand hitting that skin, stinging her as per the namesake of the Stinging Winds. Even here in the Sundered Canyon, the stinging continued.

"Thank you," Eirena said. She looked at Kormac. "How much was this anyway?"

"Um…well…"

The templar was turning red as well. Raising an eyebrow. Eirena was ready to question him.

"Hey, can we get a move on?!"

And thought better of it as Li-Ming's voice carried across the air. Glancing back at the other companions, Eirena could see it was a sentiment that was shared amongst them.

"Yes, of course," the enchantress said. She walked forward, letting her magic guide her. Guide her to the next set of hidden footprints, the cultists' illusions melting away.

"A path," she declared. "Our path is clear."

"Good," Baldur murmured. The barbarian plodded forward, closely followed by a scowling Valla. "Let's move."

"No-one appointed you the leader," the demon huntress murmured.

"And no-one asked your opinion."

Eirena sighed as the group, even Kormac, walked ahead. It was clear that the only reason they travelled together was that their goals were aligned, rather than because of any camaraderie. Grasping her staff, she began to follow.

"Wait," she called out.

But the winds picked up, and she found it harder to move.

"Wait!" she cried again.

And yet, she became slower. And slower. And slower. And-

"Move it!" someone called out.

And yet, the sands blinded her. And yet, she saw nothing. Only a mountain. A shining mountain, in the distance…beckoning her…calling her…

And she fell.

Coughing out sand, Eirena looked up. The mountain was gone. The sands had parted. The only thing before her was the visage of Uther.

"Are you alright?" the monk asked. "What happened?"

"I…I fell," Eirena stammered.

The monk extended a hand, and Eirena took it. He firmly pulled her up. Looking around, she could see that most of the group was still ahead.

"Oh good, is the little princess up yet?"

Eirena blinked as Valla marched back to her.

"Well?" she snapped.
"I…um…"

"Footprints! Mirages! Do your job and get up there!"

Eirena blinked again. The sand was picking up. And Valla's face seemed to be fading. All she could see was sand…and tombstones…and another figure…in the distance…the figure looked at her…

"Hey!"

And the figure disappeared as the demon huntress hit her over the head.

"Yes," Eirena stammered, walking past the pair. "Yes, of course…"

By this point, Kormac had come back to check on her as well. He opened his mouth to speak, but the enchantress walked past him, tightening the scarf. She reached the head of the group, debating on which route to take.

"The route is debated," Voudoun said. "We required your input."

Eirena nodded and turned her attention to the sands. And the ruins.

"Eirena?" the witch doctor asked.

And the tombs. And the mountains. And the-

"Lacuni!"

Lacuni. Panther-men. Desperately, she looked up. But she saw nothing. Or rather, nothing from Kehjistan. Only ruins. And the tombstones. And desert sands deeper and more ancient than anything she'd ever seen or sensed.

"Voudoun?" she whispered. "Kormac?"

She could hear shouts. And roars. And the sound of steel meeting steel, and of steel tearing through flesh. But she could only hear it. Not see it.

"Anyone?!"

And then she felt something. A blow to her forehead that sent her tumbling into the sand. Something that was followed by a wet, warm liquid trickling down from her forehead.

"Eirena!"

Someone was calling her name. It might have been Kormac, but it was so faint, so unclear, she couldn't tell. The only sense available to her was sight. Sight that was soon focussed on the figure. The one she'd seen before. The one walking up to her. It stared at her.

And she stared back. It…it was indeed an "it," she reflected, as she couldn't tell whether it was male, female, or even human. A red cloak covered its body, humanoid in every regard bar its thin legs. Its face was black and featureless bar its eyes, which shone white.

"Help…me…"

Eirena could hear shouts and the sound of combat behind her. Before her, there was only silence. And the figure. Still walking to her. Its cloak billowing. Its cloak predominantly red, with a yellow pattern weaved around it. A pattern not too dissimilar to her scarf. And the figure held out a hand.

"Are you real?" she whispered.

The figure still stood there. It still held out its hand. Eirena reached out, but the being withdrew its offer.

"Please," Eirena whispered, as her own hand fell back into the dust. "I need…I don't…"

The being put out its hand again.

"I don't know!" she yelled. "I don't…"

She trailed off. Someone was holding her. She was still lying in the sand, yet someone…somewhere…was holding her. Not the figure. But someone else.

And still the figure stood there. Its cloak bellowed in the wind. Like her scarf. The one round her neck. Flapping with it…on her…

"Take it."

Slowly, Eirena took the scarf off. Slowly, she reached out into the air before her. Slowly, the being took it. And just as slowly, it wrapped it around its neck.

"It fits you," the enchantress whispered.

For a moment, the being stood there. For a moment, it adjusted its scarf. And then, in one moment, it nodded at her and turned. It walked across the sands to the mountain. And-

"Eirena!"

And the scene disappeared, as Eirena's eyes shot open. She hadn't even been aware that they were closed. Nor had she been aware that Kormac had been cradling her body, or that Li-Ming was applying some putrid liquid to her scalp, or that everyone had gathered around her with a look of concern on their features. Even Lyndon, though his angle of gaze seemed to be focussed at something lower than her face.

"I…what…?"

It was at this point that Eirena also saw the bodies of the lacuni around her. And realized that her head was sore. And stinging. And painful. Letting out a yelp, she scrambled to her feet.

"Oh, great!" Li-Ming exclaimed. "That salve doesn't come cheap you know!"

"I…I…"

She trailed off. She stared at everyone. They stared back at her. Right until Baldur stepped forward and patted her on the shoulder.

"Pay attention next time child," the barbarian said. "I can't always save you."

"Save you, right," Valla murmured. She glanced at Eirena. "Silly girl."

"Quiet," Uther snapped. "It happens to the best of us."

"Not me."

Slowly, the group dispersed. Slowly, the bickering returned. And yet, Eirena just stood there. Only with Kormac still facing her.

"I…um…"

He nodded. He looked at her.

"I…"

"Your scarf's missing," the templar said suddenly.

Eirena reached for her neck. Indeed, the scarf was gone. And looking around the desert, she couldn't find it anywhere."

"Well, no matter," the templar said. "Many things are lost in battle." He smiled. "I'm just…grateful…that we didn't lose you."

Eirena blushed. But she reflected on his words. And wondered. What she'd seen. What she'd heard. What she'd felt.

Maybe, the scarf hadn't been lost.

Maybe, it had been found.

A/N

...sigh.

Blizzard, I actually liked Diablo III. I know, it's not a game I can objectively defend on many levels, ranging from its DRM to lack of character customization, but I still enjoyed it. Looking around, even as I kept my mouth shut, I could see that other people were starting to like it too. Of course, then there was the whole porting it to consoles thing, something I wouldn't mind usually since I play most of my games on consoles anyway. But then came the exclusive items, and the pre-order bonuses. Y'know, stuff that could easily be in the game anyway, but are withheld by the developer. Items that aren't cosmetic, but actively give players an advantage.

So no, it's another thing to add to the list of things I can't in good conscience defend, and makes my liking of the game even more guilt-inducing. Still, I will admit, the thought of a character wearing the scarf from Journey did bring a smile to my face, if only for the thought of seeing them in the desert (and that it looks nifty on the player characters). So, while I'm in no way endorsing the practice, it at least inspired me to write this.