Anaera woke up with those words swirling and repeating through her mind. She tried to sort through the images that had flown across her subconscious in the last part of the dream. A bunch of bishounen... Wait! Why had that word come to mind? Well, the men had been attractive, except for one. He had had icy eyes under blond hair and Anaera was certain she’d met far friendlier dead people. She could think of a hundred, off-hand. She had also seen a group of girls with colored auras around them. One, she remembered in particular, had worn a Beatles T-shirt in her dream. The clearest image, though, was the first. The handsome, one-eyed sorcerer.
"Chichiri," she said softly.
And her world turned upside down...
Anaera stood outside the London airport, with her baggage and her mouse. How had she gotten here? She couldn’t seem to remember the rest of the flight. Something definitely felt WRONG. The atmosphere felt like modern England, but there was some strange electricity in her body. Gods, she wished she had her katana. She reached behind her to where she usually wore it lashed to her back...
--And found her blade in her hand. "What in the name of Zeus’s BUTTHOLE?" she asked thin air.
Yes, something different was definitely going on around here...