Alister in Sonderland - Two (DISCONT.)

nodus tollens - n. the realization that the plot of your life doesn’t make sense to you anymore.

--

Madeira stiffened at the mention of Alice's name. That girl was so young when she found out the secrets of their world, young enough to be drugged. Madeira's father, the previous Mad Hatter almost two hundred human years before, had given her several cups of Earl Gray tea in order to manipulate the workings of her mind to believe that Sonderland was merely a dream. Madeira's father also manually tinkered with the thoughts of the humans around her to believe so too. It wasn't every day that someone found out about Sonderland...Only the right type of humans got to. 

"Alice," Madeira breathed, her bubbly demeanor slipping away. "Alice Liddell."

Cheskaire slapped her gently as friends would. "Don't bring up her name, Maddie. You know how that girl is shunned here. Taboo. "

"It's just a look-a-like, right, Cheshie? A coincidence," Madeira started, but Cheskaire stuck up a manicured fingernail in her face, expression grim. "Only that girl's family has been able to enter Sonderland, and we don't even know why. This boy and her must be related somehow."

"You're nothing like your father!" Madeira wailed, tugging on her pigtails like she did when she was stressed. "Oh, and sit down. Please. We can't have this conversation standing."

"He says his name is Alister. Alister "Alois" Lydall. Name similarity much?" Cheskaire said, making her way to a plush, disorganized couch. There were stuffed animals and fuzzy blankets sitting about it in unfolded lumps. Madeira said nothing, only humming, and brought a silver tray of hot tea over. "Today it's nione tea made from the nione flower's petals. Flower originated down south. Expensive, and-"

"Stop trying to avoid the topic. I don't like this any more you do." Cheskaire narrowed her eyes and took a finely crafted porcelain cup and brought the rim to her lips.

"Alice Liddell's...What, now? Son?" Madeira queried, her question quickly turning rhetoric. She finally let go and exploded into a flurry of words. "Wait, no, human lives don't work like that...Great-great-great grandmother, give or take. In their world, time's different. It's been 157 human years since Alice came to us, their current year is 2022. For us, only about 52 years have passed...Oh my God, Cheshie, do you know-"

"Yes. I know," Cheskaire sighed. She set down her teacup. "I'm asking you to come with me to investigate. I can't do this alone."

"Cheshie, you've been-"

"Alone for years. I know."

"This is a Thursday, and do you know what that means?" Madeira's tone grew deadly serious as she gripped Cheskaire's wrist. Cheskaire almost jumped at the sudden intensity, but then she grinned wildly. "Revolution."

--

Alister looked at the looming wreckage around him of a small, two-room cottage. It once had been a quaint, cozy place, he thought, before he fell into it. In the corner of his vision, a stream of text popped up. Cheshire Cat's Residence. Unoccupied.

He swiped the text away with his ring finger and stepped forward. Nothing lay untouched except for himself, and Alister felt a pit of remorse for intruding on such a peaceful place. The Cheshire Cat's place, wherever he may roam. Small, glowing blue sprites circled Alister as he walked, deftly placing his hand on object after object. No thought drifted into his mind about the mistake he was about to make other than blank notes about the cottage's owner. Cheshire Cat. Cheshire Cat. Cheshire Cat. The sprites seemed to lure him in the impending darkness, in the waning light of the reddened suns. To him, the axalto-carved wood chairs and the twisted vines on the wallpaper struck a series of small bells in his mind. They rang, and rang, and rang, but Alister had no clue where they came from. The sprites stopped at the end of the room, drifting downwards to an ancient-looking relic. Alister bent down and picked up the broken card, blowing off the dust. It was a player's card, but the female on the card was not the classic Queen of Hearts. She appeared far more elegant, regal, and had a piercing look in her eyes. Alister's gaze wavered just by looking at them, and he glanced to the left of her blonde, flowing hair. It reminded him of his. Beside her was not a staff or scepter, but a spade. A spade meant for battle, not the simple labors of agriculture. The tip was pointed, and a ring of metal barbs circled it. Alister dropped the card and watched it fall to the ground. 

A swarm of pixels circled the card as it fell side to side, capturing Alister's attention. Empress of Spades card. Dated 1103 of the human era. How would something so old just be hanging around, uncared for? How could it be treated like that and still have the ability for use? 

"Tell me more," Alister said.

Two girls entered the ring of destruction. One of them had flaming eyes.