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Zam thinks she might be dreaming.
Actually, that's probably exactly what's happening, but she can't take control of the dream like some people said she should be able to, if she knows she's dreaming. Lucid dreams, she thinks they're called.
The floor is not really a floor, just… a rippling mass, like water that she can stand on. The pseudo-sky is littered with pinpricks of light, far away, but shimmering brightly like real stars.
It makes her ache.
There is someone else here—he emits most of the light in the space, with one leg tucked in and the other propped up so he can rest his arms on it. The man has a shock of blue hair, softer than the kind she sees in lapis lazuli but not quite the shade of the open sky, and star-shaped lights circling him like a halo, curved gently and yet at the same time as sharp as blades.
The man seems to notice her, despite the fact that she hasn't moved. He smiles as he turns his head to catch sight of Zam, the expression reminding her vaguely of someone she knows but can't quite place. "Hey there," The stranger says. "Come sit."
It's not so much an order as it is an invitation, but Zam still obeys, approaching with silent steps before sinking to her knees. She doesn't say anything, just takes in the new face.
His clothing is mostly plain. It's a cropped white top, with a shimmery and sheer blue short-sleeved jacket over top, paired only with some small pieces of silver jewelry, black, ripped denim pants, and combat boots with beaded laces. She wonders idly if he'll jingle when he moves, the way Graecie does.
Instead of asking that particular question, she inquires, "Where are we? Who are you?"
The stranger huffs a small laugh before he answers. "Most call me Scott. As for where we are, this is… the in-between, so to speak. Those who are not quite dead and not quite alive find themselves here with me. Not all in the same spot, of course—very few ever find me. I'm almost impressed that you came here and were already so close."
Panic. Panic! Panic! "Dead!?"
"Calm down," Scott placated, hands hovering away from the girl as if convincing himself not to physically touch her. "You're not going to die."
When he seemed convinced that she was a step further away from a panic attack, Scott continued, a soft grin gracing his face again. "You must have some people who care a whole lot for you out there. Someone's tied you to themselves so you can't quite tip over the edge, not to mention the iron I felt—takes a lot of effort for even a powerful mage to keep a spell up for that long."
Iron? That's Legs' magic. What was Legs doing? "…My friend is an iron mage. He's really nice."
"I bet, to do something like that for you. You seem lovely, anyway, are you also a mage?" His voice was kind, curious, open. It reminded Zam of Graecie, which sent a pang through her heart. Oh, how she missed the blessing mage.
"Mhm. Stars." She nodded, shy.
Scott's smile became wider, and unless Zam was imagining it, the starlit halo around his head was glowing a little bit brighter. "Well, that's something we have in common! I mean, I'm no mage, I'm technically just the Keeper of Worlds, but the stars are my thing, if you couldn't tell."
"The Keeper of Worlds?" Zam questions, suddenly slightly worried. That sounds like a very important title to hold.
Scott laughs. "Oh, yes. There's one of me in every world, you see, every alternate universe—I'm something of a constant, something that mana, or code, can hinge onto. Within this in-between place, I can somewhat manipulate said mana. That's what makes this place mine to watch over. You've probably met at least one version of me before—Scott Boralith, if memory serves. Some of us are aware of all of the others, others are not, but we all tend to come around."
Zam really isn't sure how to tackle that, so naturally, she tries to figure out by asking more questions. "How does that work?"
Scott gives a mirthful flick of his eyes before his gaze turns up toward the lights in the sky, the not-stars. "Not quite sure. We are both one and separate, some collective cosmic consciousness that splits itself into different shards. A lot of people have alternate versions of themselves—even you—but not quite the way we do."
"Doesn't that get lonely? Knowing that there are so many of you, but you will never reach them?"
"Of course, but I am like the stars. I am everywhere. Do the stars worry about what they miss? Do they worry about their ends? No. They burn as bright as ever, and then, when they die, they teach the world what they once were."
Zam hums, a little bit somber now. "Wow. I haven't thought about it like that."
"Lots of people don't. Did you know that iron is formed in stars? It's also inside of blood. As some would say, including myself, we are all made of little bits of stars. When you think about it, there's something special and eternal about all of us, human or not, mundane or magical."
"I like that."
"Yeah, me too. You can wait with me here, while your people help you wake up."
"…Thanks, Scott."