>>5308398>>5308183>>5307959>>5307067Had she gleaned something directly from the future? The voices gently inquire as much but receive no immediate answer as Cici clings to her mother, seemingly in contemplation. How did she know her grandmother was afraid? And what was she afraid of?
The child offers no tangible response in thought or in word for a long moment, the gears of her mind slowly turning over and over. And then suddenly, they stop. Completely and totally. Like a skip of a beating heart, like a breath cut short, like the silence before a terrible storm, all of Cici’s thoughts evaporate and all that remains is the power.
“Sweetling, are you alright?” her mother inquires, jostling the child slightly then panicking as she gets no response. “CICI!?”
A hand quickly tilts Cici’s face up to her own, and the woman freezes as if turned to stone, the brilliant blue of her daughter’s eyes now shining back at her like empty beacons as the voices feel the quiet whisper of the sight within her erupt into a deafening roar. People all around the campfire jump to their feet, then. Pots and plates hit the ground in a clatter as a cadre of concerned shadows dance in the firelight.
However, the voices have no time to process any of that as they struggle just to hold on. Like a door opened at the bottom of the ocean, they now find themselves caught in a deluge that threatens to wash away their very existence, to overwhelm and crush them beneath its weight composed of sights and sounds and raw information.
They see the Stone Isles, the sand and the seas beyond, ships rocking on open waves, flags of every variety and color each wound with a thousand-thousand tales.
> What to do?> [] Ride the waves and try to hold on! Roll 1d100.> [] Find a way to make it stop! Protect Cici! Roll 1d100.> [] Other. Write-in. 