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Description
Inlé found himself standing in a field of waist-high grass peppered with wildflowers. About him stood a circle of twelve strangely dressed maidens, and upon the brow of each maiden rested a small thin circlet to hold their long, black hair to their heads. Every circlet and sleeveless silk gown was individual to each woman, so that no two were the same.

Inlé did a quick clockwise circle to see each woman. The first wore a black gown and a silver circlet set with an onyx over her forehead. The second, a white gown and a gold circlet inset with a pearl. Next was a red gown, a golden band, and a ruby. Then a yellow band and a golden band with a citrine. The wearer of the blue dress had a golden circlet with a sapphire, while the green gown was paired with a silver circlet and an alexandrite. A purple dress was complimented by an amethyst in a silver circlet, and the orange dress's silver circlet held a jacinth. A jasper-set gold band paired with a brown gown, while an opal in silver rested above a grey one. The last two maidens wore their dresses--one of silver and one of gold--with unadorned circlets of the same material.

Their hands lifted to join one with another, and they began to spin clockwise around him. Together they called, "Join us, good wanderer. The dance will ease your weariness and soothe your heart."

Inlé placed his fist over his heart, bowing slightly. Rising straight again, he left his fist over his heart as he answered, "Nay, fair ladies, I may not. I am here but to observe your dance, and to applaud your grace. Were my untrained feet to join you, they would bring ruin to the dance's beauty and shame upon myself.

"Pray, let me, this mere mortal, look on your fairness and think myself blessed whilst I rest."

They women chorused, "Very well. but if you are able to stay to the end of our dancing, please join us afterwards to meal."

Inlé bowed slightly again as he replied, "Mayhaps I will, good ladies. But I cannot promise anything. A mortal man has precious little time to live, and I wish to use mine to its fullest effect."

The dance began to accelerate. "Very well," they said. The women spun about faster and faster until they began to blur together.

Inlé stood within the multicolored ring, watching as the pale faces whipped past, watching as they smiled and laughed with their eyes. His own face was still emotionless, but his stance was more relaxed as he let his fist lower and unclench at his side.

The sun climbed across the sky, approached the horizon, then sank below it, leaving the world to the dark of night. Still the maidens spun about their lone observer. Night crawled on until the twilight before dawn, and then the circle began to slow.

The maidens slowed until their forms were once more individual. After a time, the circle stopped completely, and their hands released each other. Twelve smiling faces were turned in toward Inlé.

"Now," they chorused. "You said you would join us for a meal. Come, it is not far."
Inlé bowed more reverently, "As you wish, fair ladies."

He followed behind as the tireless maidens capered ahead and about him, leading him to a low hillock, atop which was a small campsite with a fire and a feast laid out in wait.

Spits of pheasant, rabbit, and fish were staked about the fire, their odors wafting temptingly down to the approaching party. Wooden bowls of fresh fruits and crisp salads were placed between platters of breads and cheeses. Clay pitchers and jugs of drink also lay interspersed about the meal. A ring of colorful mats lay among the food, proving seats for each person in the party. Upon each mat sat a wooden plate, a clay mug, a two tined fork, and a sharp knife.

The maidens scattered to their seats, and Inlé found a place prepared also for himself, where he sat and ate with the maidens. The women sang gaily as spits, platters, bowls, pitchers and jugs were passed cheerily about. No notice was paid to spilt drink, and fallen food was quickly scooped up and placed upon a plate, or thrown to the flames. The women feasted and sang, rejoicing in the beauty around them.

Inlé himself ate quietly, taking what was offered him and passing what was asked. But his eyes held a glint of merriment unusual in his stony face, belying his normal stoicism.

After the feast, Inlé sat on the hillside. Shooed from the tidying after the meal, he sat to digest.

The maiden in orange leaned over from behind Inlé, her dark hair cascading into his lap as she rested her hands lightly on his shoulders. In a tinkling voice, she asked, "Would it displease, my detaining you brief moments further, that we might discuss at length your attendance this night?"

Inlé blinked once at the upside-down eyes inches from his own, and replied, "Nay, Lady. An honor beyond myself, it would be. I am beholden to suit such pleas."

"Just so," she said, moving lightly to sit beside him. "Would it displease, our release of formalities?"

"Nay, Lady. Worthy, I am not. But if so you pray, so shall I rescind."

She smiled. "Good. Formalities always wear on me. Though you are a surprise, boy."

"Am I?" Inlé asked.

"Three nights," the lady in orange continued, "you have appeared to us just before the dance, and this is the first time you've stayed?

"Unusual, to say the least. How did you remove yourself so quickly the last two times?"

"I woke up," Inlé answered, leaning back to cradle his head in his hands as he looks up to the stars.

"Woke up?" She echoed, following his gaze to the stars.

"Yes," Inlé said, "woke up. I do not usually sleep long enough to dream. This is a rarity, for me to sleep so long."

She looked back down at him sharply. "You mean you've dream-ridden here?"

"I suppose." Inlé replied. "Is it so unusual?"

The orange maiden leaned forward, hugging her knees as she thought aloud. "But if that is true ... Are you from the Science Verse, then?"

"I am."

She leaned back until her hands held her knees. "And are you aware you now ride the Magic side?"

"I am now aware, yes."

She laughed lightly. "And it does not surprise you?"

Inlé lifted his head to look at the lady beside him. "Perhaps you have heard of me. My name is Inlé Zapfino."

"I am not well versed in the names of the order-born."

"I am called the Worldwanderer," Inlé said.

Looking back up to the sky, the lady in orange said, "Ah."

Inlé returned his gaze to the sky, saying, "That name is familiar, then?"

"Vaguely," she answered. "I had heard a ... unique mortal had begun tampering in the gods' domains. I hadn't been told he was so young."

Inlé cocked his head and looked sidelong at the maiden. "A compliment?"

"Not in the least," she said. "You wouldn't receive my compliments kindly, anyway. Merely an observation."

"Fair enough," Inlé said. "May I ask your own name, then?"

The lady laughed. "It would be rude of me to not give you my name, after you have given me yours. I am one of the goddesses of this verse. Twelfth of Magic." Changing the subject, she asked, "But why do you sleep so little?"

"To avoid the dreams," Inlé answered. "They exhaust me, as they are as real as waking to me. But you have avoided my question." Even as he spoke, Inlé began to fade where he lay.

"I have, for a spell. It seems your sleep is at its end. As you said, you never sleep long," she said.

Inlé sat up, "But ..."

He was stopped by a finger placed lightly on his lips. The orange maiden had rolled over onto her knees, and knelt with her face playfully near Inlé's own fading face. "No buts," she told him. "Perhaps next time, you will hold me to my name. As for now, young Wanderer, rest assured that we ladies will watch you from ..."

Description
Inlé found himself standing in a field of waist-high grass peppered with wildflowers. About him stood a circle of twelve strangely dressed maidens, and upon the brow of each maiden rested a small thin circlet to hold their long, black hair to their heads. Every circlet and sleeveless silk gown was individual to each woman, so that no two were the same.

Inlé did a quick clockwise circle to see each woman. The first wore a black gown and a silver circlet set with an onyx over her forehead. The second, a white gown and a gold circlet inset with a pearl. Next was a red gown, a golden band, and a ruby. Then a yellow band and a golden band with a citrine. The wearer of the blue dress had a golden circlet with a sapphire, while the green gown was paired with a silver circlet and an alexandrite. A purple dress was complimented by an amethyst in a silver circlet, and the orange dress's silver circlet held a jacinth. A jasper-set gold band paired with a brown gown, while an opal in silver rested above a grey one. The last two maidens wore their dresses--one of silver and one of gold--with unadorned circlets of the same material.

Their hands lifted to join one with another, and they began to spin clockwise around him. Together they called, "Join us, good wanderer. The dance will ease your weariness and soothe your heart."

Inlé placed his fist over his heart, bowing slightly. Rising straight again, he left his fist over his heart as he answered, "Nay, fair ladies, I may not. I am here but to observe your dance, and to applaud your grace. Were my untrained feet to join you, they would bring ruin to the dance's beauty and shame upon myself.

"Pray, let me, this mere mortal, look on your fairness and think myself blessed whilst I rest."

They women chorused, "Very well. but if you are able to stay to the end of our dancing, please join us afterwards to meal."

Inlé bowed slightly again as he replied, "Mayhaps I will, good ladies. But I cannot promise anything. A mortal man has precious little time to live, and I wish to use mine to its fullest effect."

The dance began to accelerate. "Very well," they said. The women spun about faster and faster until they began to blur together.

Inlé stood within the multicolored ring, watching as the pale faces whipped past, watching as they smiled and laughed with their eyes. His own face was still emotionless, but his stance was more relaxed as he let his fist lower and unclench at his side.

The sun climbed across the sky, approached the horizon, then sank below it, leaving the world to the dark of night. Still the maidens spun about their lone observer. Night crawled on until the twilight before dawn, and then the circle began to slow.

The maidens slowed until their forms were once more individual. After a time, the circle stopped completely, and their hands released each other. Twelve smiling faces were turned in toward Inlé.

"Now," they chorused. "You said you would join us for a meal. Come, it is not far."
Inlé bowed more reverently, "As you wish, fair ladies."

He followed behind as the tireless maidens capered ahead and about him, leading him to a low hillock, atop which was a small campsite with a fire and a feast laid out in wait.

Spits of pheasant, rabbit, and fish were staked about the fire, their odors wafting temptingly down to the approaching party. Wooden bowls of fresh fruits and crisp salads were placed between platters of breads and cheeses. Clay pitchers and jugs of drink also lay interspersed about the meal. A ring of colorful mats lay among the food, proving seats for each person in the party. Upon each mat sat a wooden plate, a clay mug, a two tined fork, and a sharp knife.

The maidens scattered to their seats, and Inlé found a place prepared also for himself, where he sat and ate with the maidens. The women sang gaily as spits, platters, bowls, pitchers and jugs were passed cheerily about. No notice was paid to spilt drink, and fallen food was quickly scooped up and placed upon a plate, or thrown to the flames. The women feasted and sang, rejoicing in the beauty around them.

Inlé himself ate quietly, taking what was offered him and passing what was asked. But his eyes held a glint of merriment unusual in his stony face, belying his normal stoicism.

After the feast, Inlé sat on the hillside. Shooed from the tidying after the meal, he sat to digest.

The maiden in orange leaned over from behind Inlé, her dark hair cascading into his lap as she rested her hands lightly on his shoulders. In a tinkling voice, she asked, "Would it displease, my detaining you brief moments further, that we might discuss at length your attendance this night?"

Inlé blinked once at the upside-down eyes inches from his own, and replied, "Nay, Lady. An honor beyond myself, it would be. I am beholden to suit such pleas."

"Just so," she said, moving lightly to sit beside him. "Would it displease, our release of formalities?"

"Nay, Lady. Worthy, I am not. But if so you pray, so shall I rescind."

She smiled. "Good. Formalities always wear on me. Though you are a surprise, boy."

"Am I?" Inlé asked.

"Three nights," the lady in orange continued, "you have appeared to us just before the dance, and this is the first time you've stayed?

"Unusual, to say the least. How did you remove yourself so quickly the last two times?"

"I woke up," Inlé answered, leaning back to cradle his head in his hands as he looks up to the stars.

"Woke up?" She echoed, following his gaze to the stars.

"Yes," Inlé said, "woke up. I do not usually sleep long enough to dream. This is a rarity, for me to sleep so long."

She looked back down at him sharply. "You mean you've dream-ridden here?"

"I suppose." Inlé replied. "Is it so unusual?"

The orange maiden leaned forward, hugging her knees as she thought aloud. "But if that is true ... Are you from the Science Verse, then?"

"I am."

She leaned back until her hands held her knees. "And are you aware you now ride the Magic side?"

"I am now aware, yes."

She laughed lightly. "And it does not surprise you?"

Inlé lifted his head to look at the lady beside him. "Perhaps you have heard of me. My name is Inlé Zapfino."

"I am not well versed in the names of the order-born."

"I am called the Worldwanderer," Inlé said.

Looking back up to the sky, the lady in orange said, "Ah."

Inlé returned his gaze to the sky, saying, "That name is familiar, then?"

"Vaguely," she answered. "I had heard a ... unique mortal had begun tampering in the gods' domains. I hadn't been told he was so young."

Inlé cocked his head and looked sidelong at the maiden. "A compliment?"

"Not in the least," she said. "You wouldn't receive my compliments kindly, anyway. Merely an observation."

"Fair enough," Inlé said. "May I ask your own name, then?"

The lady laughed. "It would be rude of me to not give you my name, after you have given me yours. I am one of the goddesses of this verse. Twelfth of Magic." Changing the subject, she asked, "But why do you sleep so little?"

"To avoid the dreams," Inlé answered. "They exhaust me, as they are as real as waking to me. But you have avoided my question." Even as he spoke, Inlé began to fade where he lay.

"I have, for a spell. It seems your sleep is at its end. As you said, you never sleep long," she said.

Inlé sat up, "But ..."

He was stopped by a finger placed lightly on his lips. The orange maiden had rolled over onto her knees, and knelt with her face playfully near Inlé's own fading face. "No buts," she told him. "Perhaps next time, you will hold me to my name. As for now, young Wanderer, rest assured that we ladies will watch you from ..."