There was no other words to describe her than a true character, a free bird. Delilah had an attitude that didn’t allow for failure. She did what she wanted, whenever she fancied, and couldn’t give less of a damn about what the world thought. She didn’t have many friends but it was obvious that she still did had a single affection for Dune, who typically swayed to her ways of thinking to avoid most conflicts. It was rare of her to be generous to others, and she didn’t trust outsiders easily, but Dune admired her stubbornness, though he often worried that she would upset the wrong folks.
The two were part of an agency that would easily determine the future of this realm for good. Making any mistakes, no matter how small, could potentially upset a very fine line of peace. Working in an undercover network of people all trining desperately to fill the current power vacuum with wise viscets who would make powerful leaders wasn’t easy but it was interesting. Though they did have a small collection of potential candidates, the biggest concern wasn’t pushing their own thoughts into the public’s eye, it was destroying those who sought to bring back the previous corrupted government. The one who had plagued the country with genocide of those who were like Dune; those whose brains were different. Powerful.
The viscet turned over his papers on the desk. Boring notes and indoor work for tomorrow onwards. Today though would be interesting.
“If we take down Green, would Target Grey be suspicious...and what about Red. Hm” he clicked his pen and traced the edge around his lip, mildly. He was absolutely lost in thought when there was a tap on his door. The peach face of Delilah slipped by.
“Heya. Ready to roll then? Got ourselves a good suspect today. Heard that he’s a fighter.” She let out a tsst as her eyes soaked in the scene of Dune examining his notes. “You have your eyes in the clouds I see. Well you can think about whatever it is later. Today we have some new toys.” She flung a phone-like shape towards him. “Transmitter.” Delilah said, looking excited. “They said these things will hear you anywhere in the universe but I doubt they’d be able to transfer sound further than maybe one or two realms away.”
“Cool” said Dune, his vacancy fizzing away. “Now you’ll be able to call me in for duty even when I’m back home on vacation.”
She snorted. “Yep. Maybe I’ll do just that. Hey Lady Everett, your son needs to come back to the Scape. We need him to come capture a code-red criminal for us.” She matched his sarcasm perfectly.
“Now you’ve gone too far, how dare you insult my mother.” He snorted in amusement. “Anyways, I’ll catch you down by the office shortly. I’ll be ready soon.”
———
The two were engulfed in darkness. Dune himself was almost blinded except for the single tuft of cream ahead of him which marked Delilah’s tail. Otherwise, a dark curtain had formed, surrounding him and eating all light away from the room. Where are you, Green.
He heard a small click from the corner, and turned sharply to view the location of sound. There was suddenly a whirring in the air. A gust of wing, a pop. “Get down!” Shouted Delilah, and suddenly the air in Dune’s lungs was knocked away as a force pummeled into him. By the smell of her perfume alone, he knew it was her and not a hostile. Lucky viscet.
As his head spun, he heard many shouts, and as he jumped to his feet, he swore that it had only been moments. Clearly not. When they had set out, the room was pitch black from a sunless sky, but now the world was painted in golden light. A sunset. Had he hit his head? His eyes grew large as he searched. There were no signs of anybody around. No Green, and certainly no Delilah. A bile rose in his throat. Where was she? This was his fault.
His bones felt weak. Something must have happened to him; his body was certainly not out of shape, and even a head wound would not leave him fully out of control. The viscet toppled back to the floor again. He stared at nothing in particular except the small sunbeam on the ceiling. And then there was darkness.
———
“They said she was captured by the Green” a voice. It sounded like his captain but oddly muffled. Dune opened his eyes briefly then closed them again, hoping that this was all some sort of terrible dream. The viscet could have sworn he had seen his mother, but that wasn’t possible. She was not one of the gifted ones who could travel to the Scape like he was. This drew on an even worse understanding though—if his mother wasn’t back in the Scape, that meant...no. How was he on Earth? Dune had practically mastered the art of inter-realm-transportation.
Finally after waffling about it, he decided to accept this fate and open his eyes for good. His mother looked down at him, concerned. The voice of his captain was indeed playing through the transmitter.
Though he was zoned out, he heard the faint call of his mother. She was looking at him strangely, and finally broke the news that he was weak and needed rest for a long time. Somewhere within him, Dune felt like a child; the viscet didn't feel like fighting anymore. He had already broken the trust that Delilah had gifted him. He didn’t deserve it.
For a few weeks, he was pitiful, moping around the house in a distant trace. He didn’t understand how something like this could hurt so much, but the very thought of Delilah being trapped, maybe being tortured, maybe... maybe worst of all...no...the thought nauseoued him.
The next emotion came soon enough, a rage which blazed lime a fire. He yelled, kicked the wall, and banged his head into the cabinets in the kitchen. All his fault.
One day when making a ruckus, his shocked mother stroke into the room. She looked him up and down, then took his arm into her hand and sat him down.
“Let’s talk reason, Dune. Reason!” She waited until he was listening to continue. “Now who knows what you do in that fantasy land. I for one, don’t want to know. But sitting here doing nothing at all is the most stupid, useless option you’ve got. If you miss this mystery girl, why don’t you go out there and fight to get her back!” Her words were coarse. They showed no mercy, and even in his own self pity, Dune knew she was right. He wasn’t in a safe frame of mind, he wasn’t even safe, but now, more than ever, he felt motivated to get Delilah back.
———
Within only a few weeks, the Scape’s weather had shifted from a mild autumn to the kind of winter that sends violent chills up one’s spine. Dune shivered as he sat at the edge of the house, waiting, waiting. Waiting for anything at all, movement, a flash of color, a sign of some sort to tell him to move foreward. He knew that this was the place where Delilah was kept. She was alive, thank everything holy and good, and he knew the time was now to save her. His captain had high hopes about this mission.
“Hey! You!” A voice echoed in his ears and he turned to it, a violent wave overcoming him. Hostile located. Green. There was a shot to the wooden frame of the house only inches from his face, and Dune bolted around the corner for shelter. There was a round of shots back and forth but in the end, though he did not want to go into detail, Dune was victorious.
He sped into the house with an icy breath and immediately began to search. Pink fur, pink fur. Another shot blasted, also too close for comfort. He jumped away, and stared into the eyes of an unknown viscet. The enemy was cold. They showed no emotions as they stared at Dune, and he in turn, could see no humanity there.
The viscet suddenly did something unexpected. He lunged at Dune, sending him running. The only open passageway was up the stairs. Hopefully this would not be a dead end. Dune scrambled around, looking for a place to hide. Somewhere where he could see the viscet downstairs but the viscet wouldn’t be able to glimpse him back. A closet? It was worth a shot.
Dune dove into a bedroom, and into the next door following it. Slowly, he heard footsteps tracing the top floor, and a chilling voice from far off, “Where are you?”
Suddenly, “Psst!” The sound was right behind him. Dune jumped, then pointed his gun instinctually at the sound’s origin. “No! Dune wait!”
He froze. “Delilah?”
“Yes! Yes!” He voice was cracked. She must have been crying. “It’s me. Untie me.”
The door behind them shot open before he could even move. He knocked Delilah’s chair to the floor to protect her from the gunfire, then shot a few bullets back at the attacker. In horror, the gunsman stormed the room, and knocked Dune’s weapon away.
Dune sat back, suddenly feeling dread. He blocked an attack with his hands now, but knew that this would have nothing against a bullet. The viscet before him smiled; it was a disgusting sight.
Yet then, it was all over. He was not dead, not shot, not scratched. Delilah had kicked him, then the gun slid across the ground, and the two had grabbed it and turned it against its owner who now sat in handcuffs.
Delilah was set free. She looked Dune in the eyes, her expression so full of emotion that she looked like she was about to burst. Though her frame was far skinnier than before, she conveyed every single thought and feeling, every joy and every sadness into just one motion. And suddenly her lips were joined with his, and everything flooded together into a perfect, solidified moment.
Now once again, Dune thought, the world was good enough for him.
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