ETTING 
OME 
O 
LFANDRA
Aarnia's Tale part 3 - Waking Up To A Dream continued
ETTING OME O LFANDRA
The idea of being somehow miraculously stranded in a cosmos devoid of lif is enough to stop Aarnia's usually nearly endless train of thoughts, but it doesn't take long for him to recover, as the analytical mind takes over.
*Okay, this is just nuts. There is *no* way the entire populace of the multiverse can just have died or disappeared. There has to be ...no, IS another explanation for this. I'll just have to find out what it is!*
Aarnias sits on the grass and starts to go through all his memories of multiuniversal travel and all the myriads of books and scrolls on the nature of different worlds he has read during his long life. And then, something like a solution comes up.
*This could, hypothetically, be possible if I had somehow been flung into a compeletely self-sustaining ultra-universe that has an inverse ratio of... or how was that again?* Aarnia curses silently to himself and lets himself fall on his back on the moist grass. He stares at the stars that are, as expected, unlike the ones on Alfandra, or Earth. But then he notices something that makes his heart jump. At the very top of the sky, straight above him, is a crown of stars, a perfectly round constellation of seven bright stars. This is unlike anything he has seen before.
Aarnias jumps up again and starts to look around him, a new idea forming in his mind. The clearing is perhaps 14-20 yards in diameter and perfectly round. The forest starts sharply from where the unnatural, uniformly short grass ends. And this is not mown grass, but it seems as if each blade of grass has just decided to grow at the same height and then stop. In other words, this whole place seems ... artificial.
*It is possible, definiely. There have been great ancient races whose powers in their zenith exceeded those of lesser gods. One of them could have concievably created a private universe like this. They could even have made it separate to keep any outside influences out... even able to counter those artificial laws of nature to bring me here for some purpose... But that still doesn't answer why I am here! I could as well be still locked inside my subconscious.*
Aarnia starts to pace around nervously. He has failed to find an elegant way of explaning this situation, or a way to get out. Reluctantly he has to admit there is still the possibility that he isn't really here, but somehow trapped in a state of hyper-real hallucination inside his own subconscious. But whatever the case, something has to be done about it.
*Fine, maybe this is real, maybe hallucination, but whatever questions I come up with, I doubt I'll find more answers here.* But he still feels unsure about moving on into this unreal seeming world. Then he shakes his head. *What am I thinking? If this is a dream, it can't possibly hurt me if I explore it further. If this is real however, my chances to find some answers - and to survive even, are better if I move on. And if I have to stay here any longer, it's not like I can start living on this grass!*
So, Aarnia kneels down, getting ready to grow his wings back. But they won't appear! He tries to concentrate harder and then push with all his might, but even though the wing-buds were clearly mobile on his back, they refuse to grow into full-fledged wings.
"Damn it! Damn this whole place!" Aarnia yells out loud. He isn't be able to fly anywhere then. He is going to have to enter the darkness of the oak forest without the relative safety the ability to shapeshift gives him.
*But... wait a moment. Just because I can't grow wings, it doesn't have to mean I cant shift at all* A thought crosses into Aarnia's mind. *It's worth a try, I guess.*
Aarnia moves to all-fours from his kneeling position. His humanoid proportions are clearly ill-suited for quadrapedal running, but soon his hands start to stretch, fingers growing shorter and sturdier, until he has turned into a fully quadrapedal and digitigrade being.
*Well, this world can stop me from soaring like a dragon*, Aarnia thinks to himself, *but at least it can't stop me from running like a gryphon.*