I woke up to a piercing, frantic scream. My heart pounded wildly, like a terrified bird desperate to escape its cage.
I snapped my eyes open, and what I saw stunned me. Hovering over me was an older man, gray at the temples. Beads of sweat glistened on his furrowed, tense forehead. He muttered incomprehensible words in a foreign tongue and, with a sharp yank, pulled a dagger from my chest. The blade and the bright ruby gemstone on its hilt glinted momentarily in a blinding ray of sunlight.
A searing pain dragged me back into a void of darkness, where there was no suffering, no awareness…
Ugh… What a nightmare!
I felt like I was trapped in a thick, sticky fog, wanting to wake up but unable to. Slowly, I pried open my heavy eyelids and stared blankly at a white ceiling. Since when do airplanes have ceilings like this?
Then I heard a joyful exclamation:
“Lin, you’re awake! Thank goodness!”
I shifted my gaze toward the painfully loud voice. With my head feeling like lead, the shout sounded like a mix of nails on a chalkboard and a whack to the skull. Why yell like that? I winced from the dull ache.
As it turned out, the noise came from a pretty girl, a brunette with a long braid, dressed in a modest gray school uniform. She studied me with lively curiosity.
“How are you feeling?” she pressed, not letting up.
I tried to respond, to ask where I was and how I got here, but instead of words, all I could manage were choked, raspy sounds.
What kind of nonsense is this? I can’t stand dreams like this! The only thing worse is dreaming I’m naked in a crowd.
The girl paled and started babbling nervously:
“I’ll go get Count de Larois. He asked to be told the moment you woke up…” She jumped up from her chair but then hesitated. “Wait, let me help you sit up first.”
She propped me up, carefully tucking a pillow behind my back and covering me with a blanket. I noticed I was wearing a long, white cotton nightgown. Huh…
The room spun and swayed before my eyes, but gradually, the dizziness started to fade.
My helper dashed off, slamming the door behind her with a loud bang!
Good grief, why? My head’s going to split open.
Soon, the man from my nightmare entered the room. He was tall and wiry, with regular but unremarkable features—the kind of face you wouldn’t remember. But his presence… I felt it the moment he crossed the threshold. It washed over me like a tidal wave crashing onto a sandy shore. It was as if a lion had stalked into the room, like standing next to a massive, wild beast far bigger than me. An aura of strength and power radiated from him in waves.
And this dream just keeps dragging on… When will this weirdness end?
He approached, sat on the chair by the bed, and asked:
“Melinda said you can’t speak?”
I nodded.
He frowned, then placed his hand on my throat and closed his eyes. Before I could even process what was happening, he murmured thoughtfully:
“Just as I suspected… I can sense dark magic. It seems your vocal cords are damaged. But don’t worry, Healer Arno will fix this. He’s a very powerful mage. In a few days, you’ll be talking like nothing happened. For now, stay quiet and rest your throat. Most importantly—don’t stress. You’re safe now. I’ll handle everything.”
Seems the problem isn’t just with my throat. Judging by the throbbing in my head, it took a hit too.
The Count stared at me with an unreadable expression.
“Evelyn, do you remember anything about the attack?”
What? Attack? I think my jaw dropped and my eyes widened in shock.
After recovering a bit from the bombshell, I shook my head no.
“Nothing at all?” he asked again.
I nodded once more.
“I see. The investigators wanted to speak with you. But given your condition and the fact that you don’t remember anything, there’s no point in that right now.”
After a brief pause, he continued:
“Melinda was very worried about you and asked for permission to talk to you. I agreed, but only for a short while. You need to regain your strength and get plenty of rest. If the pain comes back, drink this elixir.” He pointed to a small blue glass vial. “It’s a painkiller and a sedative.”
After giving me another scrutinizing look, he left. A few minutes later, the same girl fluttered back into the room, carrying a tray with simple food—some kind of porridge, a bit of meat, vegetables, and tea.
She was just as animated as before:
“Lin, if you only knew how worried we were! I know you can’t talk, but don’t worry, I’ll fill you in. You must be curious about what happened, right?”
I nodded vigorously.
Melinda started talking fast, her words jumbled and full of emotion:
“Someone tried to kill you! Right now, the monastery is crawling with people…”
Monastery?...
What am I doing in a monastery?
Meanwhile, the girl kept chattering, taking my wide-eyed stare as a sign of intense interest. She even bounced in her chair, eager to spill everything as quickly as possible:
“Investigators, mages, they’re all trying to figure it out, asking questions. Of course, I wasn’t eavesdropping, but they were talking so loudly!”
Yeah, right. Judging by her nonstop chatter, Melinda’s quite the gossip.
She leaned in close, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper:
“I heard the criminals wanted to perform a blood magic ritual!” She widened her eyes dramatically and hissed, “With your blood!”
Then she sat up straight and added:
“We were so scared! It’s just awful, isn’t it?”
Looking at Melinda, I wouldn’t say she was scared. If anything, she seemed thrilled. Her blue eyes practically sparkled with excitement. I mean, what an event!
Clearly, life in this monastery is pretty boring for her.
“And Mother Superior had a heart attack yesterday when she saw what they did to you.”
So that’s who was screaming…
“Now eat, eat! I’ve totally talked your ear off, and you need to recover!”
I glanced at the tray of food in surprise. I don’t remember ever dreaming about eating before. But there’s a first time for everything.
Mmm… This porridge is actually pretty tasty...
Meanwhile, Melinda shared more “definitely not overheard” details of the investigation. The criminals had vanished, so the motive for the attack remained unknown. She also revealed that I’m the niece of the kingdom’s High Mage, Count de Larois. That must be the mysterious man who was looking after me.
Soon, though, I felt a growing pain in my chest. Remembering the mage’s words, I reached for the vial. Melinda understood without me saying a word, handed it to me, helped me drink the potion, and then assisted me in lying back down. She wished me sweet dreams and left.
Alone now, I tried to make sense of it all. Do you feel pain in dreams? This madness doesn’t feel like a dream at all. I’ve pinched myself everywhere I could, but I’m not waking up. It doesn’t seem like a hallucination either—too realistic, too many details.
Then again, what do I know about hallucinations?
I scanned the sparse monastery room. White walls and ceiling, a narrow bed, a table, a chair, a wardrobe. The furniture was heavy, adorned with carvings, and looked sturdy, crafted from solid wood. It seemed ancient, with worn surfaces from generations of lively schoolgirls like Melinda.
In the corner stood a small wooden table with a stool and a mirror in a simple, tarnished copper frame, darkened by time. I decided to see how I looked after this bizarre attack. Slowly, I approached and peered into it. What I saw sent a cold sweat down my spine. I would’ve screamed if I could, but instead, I just opened and closed my mouth silently, like a fish gasping on dry land.
This is too much...
Shocked and drained, I returned to the bed, lay down, pulled the blanket over me, and sank into a healing, dreamless sleep.
This time, I woke up in the middle of the night. The darkness was deep and serenely quiet, the kind that comes just before dawn. I felt much better, and my head was clearer. Someone thoughtful had left a lit wax candle on the table, casting a soft, muted glow. I propped myself up on my elbows, studying it, then slowly stood and stretched my stiff muscles. As I got closer to the candle, I noticed it burned without melting, and the flame gave off no heat.
Must be magic…
Remembering what had shocked me before I slept, I hesitantly approached the dreaded mirror. When I looked into it, I froze. In the dim reflection, I saw a face pale as a sheet, with eyes wide in astonishment.
But it wasn’t mine!
The room suddenly felt suffocating, like there was no air to breathe. I stumbled to the window, flung open the heavy wooden shutters, and… gasped. Now it felt like all the air in the world had vanished. What I saw finished me off: hovering over the shimmering surface of a lake was an enormous moon, ten times the size of ours, porous like a block of Dutch cheese, and a deep violet hue…
I stood frozen in silent awe. Then I coughed and inhaled the cool night air with a loud gasp. Breathing, breathing…
After catching my breath and regaining some composure, it became painfully obvious that I’d landed in another world or a parallel reality…
Or I’d lost my mind…
I decided to stick with the first theory.
My legs turned to jelly and refused to hold me up, so, slowly backing away without taking my eyes off the impossible, unreal moon, I returned to the bed and sat on its edge.
And there I sat, staring in shock out the open window.
Even the stars here were alien. There were so many more of them, closer somehow, shining brighter. Like thousands of fireflies scattered across the sky.
This is unreal…
I guess I did find adventure, just like I wanted...
And as Nika always says, real adventures start when things stop being funny.
So, where on earth—or wherever—have I ended up?