Something was off. Her very spirit told her so. Anemone took in the details of the world around her, and her skin crawled. Fog had rolled in. The stale smell of wet wood had vanished along with the color of the walls. They had become even more muted than before. No, muted was not the right word—monochromatic sounded far more appropriate.
“Why do the walls look so thin? It’s like paper.”
As Anemone looked at the wall, it was like seeing through opaque glass. You could see through, and it was entirely empty inside. No, empty was also the wrong word. In fact, a pitch-black void filled it. Anemone pressed her fingers into the wall. The building before her was still solid. Her fingers told her that much, yet it seemed so fragile. So fragile that if she pressed it any harder, it would shatter.
“I recognize this creepy fog anywhere—it’s from the great Lauma tree,” said Anemone. “But why this far out? I’m nowhere near the first district.”
Despite the fog near the Great Lauma Tree sometimes wafting into other zones, it never extended this far. She certainly hadn’t walked from the Fifth District to Sacred Grove yet. The Great Lauma Tree resided near the First District’s center, far from her alley. Just above her was a sign that read ‘Roots, Elixirs, and Brews’ for one moment. Then the next: Margery’s Mixes and Aliment Ales. Soon, they randomly combined every word that she saw. To the point it became gibberish.
“And that’s way creepier.”
Her body tensed as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. With each step, however, something was different. She had become lighter than ever. Even the pain in her knees had disappeared. It seemed like someone had added an extra bounce to her step. Following the alley forward, she turned at a corner and stopped. This was one of the few places she knew well in the Fourth District.
Am I either nuts or it's a Phantasy-Ars? This is where Spriggan meets Annelize… there was a fortune teller. Close to a canal, right by a gate.
Annelize was an old apothecary goblin who lived near this alley. Anemone had known her since childhood. Spriggan had always come here to buy his ingredients for his homemade brews. He had often dragged Anemone along as he sought Annelize’s concoctions and rare ingredients. Anemone would sometimes get her fortune read right around the corner while she waited. But now, the entrance was no longer there. Upon turning, she suddenly confronted a wall that was previously absent. Her eyes scrutinized the alley again. Then her hand began analyzing every crack and grain. It was neither rough to the touch nor gritty. It was a pale illusion.
“Oh, when I find that cadet… I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind.”
Anemone took a few steps back, thinking about that mask she saw earlier. Although everyone wore a mask, it was far too striking. No one had worn something like that before, and she couldn’t let the image go. To add, the star under the cadet’s eye was also striking. Then words popped into her mind.
Then dream the path to the false one of venomous ash—hear his words.
Anemone scratched her head and turned around. While walking, she glided her fingertips across the wall. Her vision dropped downward. The fog choked her boots with every step. Even her footsteps were silenced. They were as quiet as the air was still.
No biyrds cawing? No imps scrambling around? And no wind was blowing. Either that tengu mask or Starface did this? Anemone pondered.
Looking back at the sky, there was nothing but gray. The alley had become so eerie. Though the wind didn’t blow, a piercing shiver overtook her body. But when she pinched her skin, there was no sensation. Then she made a bold move.
BAM!
Her fists punched the wall. And as she looked at her hand, her brows rose with widened eyes.
“Impossible… that was a decent amount of force.”
Superior Phantasy-Ars made all normal bodily functions feel as close to the real thing as possible, but there was a flaw. Small lingering pain was the easiest way to shock your mind into finding holes in whatever illusion someone had cast. The consistent pain would slowly stimulate the senses, bringing you back. It had to be slow and self-inflicted. Otherwise, it would become harder to escape the illusion. A lapse could easily lock your mind to the illusion. Anemone struck the wall with full force three times and felt nothing. An eerie calm rolled through her, a calm that she had only felt once before. That night, the gallu attacked the barrier. That night, she met that denizen.
The poison in your story. Find the hero with the traveler’s grimoire…
Those words popped into her mind.
“No, this is different. Is this connected to L’wah?”
Right after that thought, a faint golden light caught her eye from below. Glimmering golden footsteps appeared before her. Their shine lit a path down the gray, foggy back alley. She peered into the fog. Visibility extended solely to the fog’s outlined alley, marked by golden footsteps. A shiver ran up her spine, and she shook her head.
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“Why am I worried?”
Tightness gripped her chest. Every part of her told her to stay alert. A bad idea was the phrase that preoccupied her mind with each footstep. The environment shifted, transitioning almost like a stage play. An empty wall of those opaque brick walls narrowed. As if painted, the alley and homes lay flat, merging into the wall. Indented bricks gave the wall an almost three-dimensional falsehood.
“Every time I stare too long… I see right through it. It’s like I’m in a diorama.”
Staring too long only revealed the void beyond, an infinite darkness. Past them and below her was the void. Even as her brow sweated, she did not stop. Not even the wobbling of her legs reduced her stride. In fact, she sped up. Her head was perfectly still, with only slow, long glances scanning the area.
Soon, the buildings transitioned into painted paper tree groves. A mock forest that stretched long and lifeless—to an area. An area just as familiar as a path to the First District. Shimmering lights from the footsteps drew her eyes in with each step. Then, there was a flash of light that blinded her. Anemone had arrived at the place where they met that night.
“This is where I first met L’wah—right before the gallu attack.”
The golden footprints ran deeper into the paper woods. They had stopped near a group of actual trees; Lauma saplings. They were only a few scores old. Anemone could tell by the golden leaves and pale bark. Anemone looked up and saw someone sleeping in a tree above. Her brows narrowed at how defenseless they lay in the tree above. Her shoulders were as tight as her eyes, which surveyed the area. Anemone looked for a rock to throw at them.
“I’m not surprised by this clown,” she grumbled.
If there were a barrier of some sort, she would only have to take the recoil of the rock’s impact. Something she was more than confident in evading. The moment she found one, she lofted to ensure it wouldn’t bounce back too fast. It left her hand, smacking the stranger straight in the back of their head. They held the impact spot and rolled out of the tree, tumbling to the ground. He landed on his back, gripping it in pain. He rolled around for a moment, cursing in pain. For something that was quite a fall, his painful response was rather energetic. Upon sitting up, Anemone saw his face. It was, in fact, L’wah, and not the cadet with a star. This time his eyes were not as dead as a fish and his hair was different. Before it was unkempt, almost woolly curls that covered most of his face and eyes. This time, he had it neatly tied back into a low puffed tail.
“OWW! Who throws rocks at a sleeping rando!?” L’wah glared.
“RANDO? Do you have any sense? WHO lays out in the open so defenseless?”
He stood up, rubbing his head and back.
“Clearly, someone trying to meditate. What do you want?”
“Meditating? Didn’t you just say sleeping?” She whispered to herself. “You would think someone guilty of kidnapping royalty and theft would be on the run. Why are you still here?”
“I should ask you what you’re doing here in Hallowed Isle?” he paused. “Then again, you said you would get here somehow.”
Anemone’s eyes stayed sharp with pinched lips. L’wah, however, remained relaxed. She folded her arms and leaned onto her hip, angling herself away from him. The pit of her stomach hardened as he sat there, unamused. If she ran into him here, did he have something to do with that tengu mask from earlier? That thought crossed her mind. It was difficult to doubt that this was true.
“There’s no way I hit my head that hard,” muttered Anemone, “So, what’s the deal with the beak mask and the cadet with the star on his face? Are they with you?”
L’wah raised his brow, “None of those words apply to me in any way, shape, or form. So, no.”
“A simple yes or no would suffice,” snarled Anemone.
“Oh, yeah… you are without a doubt that Anemone,” L’wah snickered.
“That Anemone? What does that even mean?”
“Depends? What’s the last thing you remember?”
All that crossed her mind was how he could have snuck back in here? Out of the corner of her eye, the fog was still present, yet it hadn’t driven him mad. Their meeting near the Great Lauma Tree mirrored their previous encounter. From the look on his face, the bags under his eyes seemed to have also disappeared. He now seemed well-rested, unlike her. The thought of those maddening nightmares made her body jump. The fog seemed to affect Anemone, despite her local birth. There were times her dreams had dozens upon hundreds of individuals being slaughtered. And in some nightmares, she even died in strange ways: fighting, drowning, falling—you name it. Those scenes drove her mad with chills and aches from every blow in them.
“If we’re by the Great Lauma Tree, he should be driven mad.”
Instead, he was lounging about. Standing before her with a dull look. Very few could resist the fog’s power to overtake outsiders. However, this was the same individual who got chased across Tir-noNog by Acaulis. The same person whose face had been slammed into the ground was completely unbothered.
“Why is everything muted? Some kind of Ars?” asked Anemone. “I should turn you in once I get out of here,” Anemone’s face straightened.
“Ok, just gonna ignore me. Mmm, you weren’t kidding when you said you were more uptight. Duly noted,” mocked L’wah.
“HEY! DOLT! I’m talking to YOU!”
Anemone jabbed her finger into his chest repeatedly.
“Don’t ignore me! Otherwise, I’ll turn you in!”
L’wah rolled his eyes and pushed her hand aside.
“Yeah, pot to kettle, Nin. But! If you did that, you wouldn’t get any answers now, would you?”
Anemone sassed, “Oh, so you were listening? Then explain.”
L’wah stroked his chin.
“You want answers about your strange dreams, right?”
“How do you know about my dreams?” asked Anemone.
“Yup, this is definitely the first time you've met." He paused. "Well, those pesky dreams relate to your Vision Quest.”
Anemone furrowed her eyebrows as she uncrossed her arms. She slid her foot forward, watching him closely. Without a word, he signaled to her to follow him. He had piqued her interest once again. Anemone let him take a few steps before she began following him with her hand on one of her knives. Her eyes stayed locked on him as he faced her and walked backward. After shrugging his shoulders, he turned and walked on without a word.
This was more than foolish. Following a stranger into the murky depths of the forest was more than unsafe. Yet she wanted to know more—no, needed to. At this moment, he was her only other choice to get answers.
