(He really wasn't expecting any of this. He'll send HQ a message and continue to follow her, but the day is turning out really interesting.)

(It's a very big part of why he loves his job, how many of his days don't go like he'd expected them to go.)

A young lady wearing an elaborate braid and a fancy dress is looking at a cracked bronze mirror in her room. "Mirror, mirror, in the name of the Hall family, awaken!"

There is light, and then she's somewhere else.

A man stands on the deck of a ship. With the help of the afternoon light, he's inspecting a strange glass bauble that contains a swirling, frozen storm.

"Doubt this'll trade for the ghost shark blood, whatever it is," he mutters, to the wind. "What I wouldn't give for a damned chance to climb in this crab bucket -"

The frost inside the bauble swirls, and then he's somewhere else.

The somewhere else is shrouded in grey mist, with tiny motes of light surrounding them in the fog.

A silhouette of a woman stands above them, inscrutably looking down on them both.

Her two guests can see each other, through the fog, though not well enough to make out each other's faces. However, she, or perhaps She, is clearly apart and above.

Oh.

Audrey cursteys. It... wouldn't do, not to be polite to a deity.

"Milady, if I may ask... where is this?"

Alger is suddenly re-evaluating everything he just recently said and did, and is estimating just how incredibly fucked he may or may not be. He - maybe did express a desire for something while holding an unknown artefact in his hand, and imply out loud, with his words, that he would be willing to make a deal for it. Specifically of the phrasing 'What he wouldn't give'. He has been pulled into an unknown space without any kind of ability to resist or consent. It is not clear if he can ever get back, and certainly not under his own power.

There is a mysterious Someone that was responsible for this, who may or may not be holding his soul in Her hands.

Yeah, he's gonna bow, too, thanks. He's not exactly good at it, but he is now highly motivated to try.

"...and, if I may ask," ack, bad, don't repeat yourself, "might You be the mistress of this Divine Realm?"

"Elsewhere," says the figure in power, a little amused, to the first question.

The fog swirls, and pillars rise around them, stretching out to connect to each other to form archways. Stairs rise from the ground to hold a throne, where their host daintily sits.

And then her (Her???) head tilts, and she (She) asks, taking on a playful tone, "What do you think?"

I THINK I AM GOING TO DIE SO THOROUGHLY NOT EVEN MY SOUL GETS TO RETURN TO CREATION, THANKS.

Well that's not terrifying at all!

"I think..." She thinks... what does she think? Yes, she's terrified but also... kind of excited? Her father keeps distracting her with pretty trinkets he claims are magic relics and they never are and she never stops hoping, even when she knows nothing will ever come of it, except this time...

Well, this time, something did.

She cursteys again, and smiles. "That I am honoured to be in Your presence, Milady."

Uh yes pleasantries he should. He should do that. He should say words.

He bows again, a bit better this time. "I as well, Your Eminence."

Was that the proper term of address? Maybe! He has no idea! He's never done this before! It sounded fancy, and hopefully doesn't piss Her off!

His voice found, he can get to the most important business he can think of, which is:

"And how might we - entreat You, should we want to be returned to where we came?" He almost said 'ask' instead of 'entreat,' but he definitely heard a priest use 'entreat' when addressing the Lord of Storms, so, probably that's the correct word to use? He thinks? Maybe?

She inclines her head in response to their flattery, then answers the question.

"You need only ask. I won't keep those here that don't wish to stay."

Good! Very good! Better, even! They're not trapped! And... Audrey senses no malice. Mischief, maybe. And she's aware that she's in a goddess's domain, and everything she sees is what the goddess wants her to see, but...

"Milady, may I entreat You to provide us with seats, as well?" Is this overly bold? Oh, probably. Oh no. "B-but of course, You may do as You wish..." Wait, 'may'? "N-not that you need my permission...!" Audrey Hall you are going to get squished like a bug by the goddess and it will be deserved.

Another curtsey, and she bows her head. "Please, forgive my impropriety, Milady."

This verbal flailing earns a soft chuckle, and She obligingly provides then with chairs. Two rows of them, with a great table between them, like they are all sitting down for a meal, or perhaps a meeting. With Her at the head of the table.

"You're forgiven. Seats are certainly within My power to grant."

Okay, so... this is not the worst it could be? She is almost friendly for a probable goddess, and will apparently send them back upon request. And will just. Provide them with chairs, if they want them.

Alger didn't, really, but they are here now, and so he will sit, because it seems like the thing to do. (Shit, shit, is that agreeing to a deal? Is he selling his soul for a chair???)

She lets out a relieved breath, and smiles again, taking her seat, too.

Also, she's realising that she hasn't let the man sitting across from her speak at all, and this is very rude of her, so she'll give him some space to ask his own questions, too.

No questions. Questions are dangerous, and he asked the most important one. The answer he received was a good one, but that doesn't mean he wants to tempt fate again. Yet.

But... their host been very accommodating, actually? And there is no trick to the chairs, She actually just offered them a place to sit after being asked. If Alger had been pulled into the Divine Realm of the Lord of Storms, and failed to show proper deference, or even improperly decorous deference, His Lordship would - well, it would not end well for him, at the very least. He certainly wouldn't care to make His subjects comfortable.

(So... maybe this can be leveraged as an opportunity?)

He is still nonetheless content to let the bumbling noble girl walk first, through this proverbial hallway that likely contains traps.

Their host seems entirely fine with the silence. She just sits, looking at them both. Patiently.

...okay, Audrey isn't comfortable with silence.

"Milady, how... may we address You?"