Deyjne - ▉ ▉
Sometimes, a single glance is enough to change a person’s entire life. However, in contrast, to obtain such a glance, one might find that even the sacrifice of an entire lifetime could be insufficient.
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That’s how life is—its rules are shaped the same way. Everything comes with a price, both tangible and intangible.
▉ ▉ ▉ ▉
They were no exception. They paid the fitting price for it.
▉ ▉
So, what would be the price she must pay to receive that glance once more?
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And would it be enough? Enough to make those eyes turn toward her, or would that very cost strip her of everything she holds dear?
▉ ▉
Tell me, would a flower nurtured by illusions and the love in my body be enough to catch your attention, ▇ ▇?
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Art knows no boundaries or definitions—each individual perceives it through their own distinct perspective.
Those were the words she faintly overheard from the ticket collector as she stepped into this place—a small exhibition hall displaying artifacts and paintings.
By all accounts, her being here was improbable. First, her job consumed so much of her time that she seldom had a moment to indulge in such activities. Second, spending her rare day off at an exhibition wasn’t exactly the most enjoyable or relaxing choice. Third, art and its creations, unless tied to that place, were little more than a waste of her time. And…
For a brief instant, her thoughts came to a halt. Her heart raced, and her eyes widened slightly as she sensed something was off.
That place? What was it…
A sharp pain stabbed through her chest, spreading into a severe headache as she strained to recall something—something vital, something tied to…
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A sudden stillness enveloped her mind, erasing everything—the thoughts, the pain—leaving an eerie calm in its wake. It brought a sense of tranquility, yet it felt disconcerting, like the calm before the storm.
Strange and unnatural, yet strangely familiar.
It echoed the feeling she experienced when she paused in front of this place.
Vague, uncomfortable, and persistently gnawing at her emotions. She had walked by here countless times, but only now did it stir this restless yet expectant feeling within her, inexplicable and profound.
▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉
—————————
How peculiar.
Of course, she certainly wasn’t talking about the artworks or paintings in the room. To her, with her limited grasp of art, each piece around her exuded a unique charm. They were arranged with care—some clustered together while others stood solo—showcasing a variety of themes and styles. There were poetic oil landscapes, surreal lacquer representations of changing towns, and the latest ventures into metaphysical abstract colors. Some pieces reflected an Eastern influence with unconventional lacquer art, abstract dialogues with silent, compressed metal sculptures, or fresh explorations of form, gravity, and light in sandstone and granite carvings.
Yet, despite the captivating and unique artworks, the true oddity lay in the place itself.
She understood that exhibitions weren’t always bustling with visitors, but the complete lack of people was unexpected. In her mind, even in the absence of guests, there should at least be a few security personnel. Oddly enough, after wandering for more than twenty minutes, she was the only soul present.
Was this place so uninteresting that no one cared to visit? So serene and vacant that it didn’t require any supervision?
Her hand rested thoughtfully on her chin as her mind wandered. Her gaze drifted forward, unfocused, while her feet continued to move.
Step by step.
The sound of her high heels clicking against the floor reverberated in the quiet space—until she spotted a figure ahead. The noise of her shoes stopped, and her awareness snapped back. At that moment, as if sensing her presence, the figure turned to face her.
She flinched—not from being noticed, but from the figure’s striking appearance.
Before her stood someone dressed in an elaborate ensemble: a floor-length gown layered with fabric featuring intricate blue geometric patterns on a white background, shimmering alluringly. An oversized cloak, trimmed delicately in blue, cascaded to the ground, its wide sleeves adorned with similar designs.
If she was right, the outfit resembled something regal or religious from a long-lost era.
But what struck her most—what seized her attention instantly—was the upper half of a deer skull, complete with antlers, worn atop that person’s head. And this skull obscured nearly half of their face, making it difficult for her to see their true features. Besides, golden chains dangled from the antlers, linking to a blue cloth that concealed long, dark hair, allowing only fleeting glimpses from the front.
Even more peculiar, when she looked into the skull’s eye sockets, all she saw was a profound, impenetrable darkness staring back at her. The moment her gaze met that void, her instincts kicked in, urging her to be cautious.
Yet, despite the figure’s bizarre appearance, it didn’t frighten her as it should have. Instead, it felt… off.
Why was that?
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
She narrowed her eyes at the odd voice—both youthful and ancient, resonating in the air. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it had a slightly jarring quality, and it grated on her slightly.
More importantly, she couldn’t grasp the meaning behind that person’s words.
Before she could inquire or wait for an explanation, they tilted aside, revealing a vibrant flower blooming inside a glass case. Stepping back with measured distance, they gestured for her to come closer and take a look.
A courteous, respectful gesture, wasn’t it?
Initially, she thought the flower was a sculpture, but as she approached, she realized it was real—suspended mysteriously in midair within its case. It seemed to be severed from its roots, lacking soil or nourishment below, yet its five slightly rounded petals spread out, showcasing a striking yellow stamen. No matter how she looked at it, it didn’t look artificial.
But…
Her gaze faltered as she examined the petals—blue like the ocean, white like the sky, intertwined on a single bloom.
Its shape felt eerily familiar, as if she’d seen it somewhere before.
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
The same question echoed again, but this time from a different voice.
Facing it, that person’s pale, slender hand—almost girlish—emerged from their sleeve, brushing the glass before gliding over the plaque beneath.
“…”
Her gaze drifted to the plaque, but it was blank—lacking a name, no details.
“Or is it still not enough?”
She didn’t know why, but she couldn’t resist asking, despite not grasping the question’s meaning.
In contrast to her confusion, the figure with the deer skull calmly withdrew their hand, tilting their head to regard her. Once more, her gaze was drawn to the deep, dark voids of the skull’s eye sockets.
This time, that stare seemed to expand, growing darker—like endless chasms filled with chaotic visions, surreal and indistinct scenes that blurred the line between reality and fantasy.
It watched her, judged her, and invaded her mind, pulling her spirit toward an unavoidable dimension. With each passing second, an inexplicable force made her feel infinitesimally small before it—like an ant under an unseen entity’s scrutiny. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t close her eyes.
The stillness in that gaze was a deafening silence, suffocating and absolute. She couldn’t comprehend it, couldn’t explain it. It wasn’t danger as she knew it, nor death as she’d imagined. It was a void—an emptiness where everything she knew lost significance, where time and space lost all meaning.
In that seemingly endless moment, a faint, melancholic smile appeared beneath the skull, almost imperceptible. The figure then turned their attention back to the flower, breaking their connection with her.
“Everyone perceives it in their own way. Maybe you’ll find your own answer again, won’t you?”
Breaking free from that gaze should have felt like a relief, but instead, a dull, persistent ache throbbed in her chest.
—————————
I glanced quietly at the nearby clock, unable to suppress another sigh. It was nearly 8 p.m. I’d arrived here at 4 p.m., meaning almost four hours had passed. Yet I still hadn’t met that doctor.
Not that I was complaining about the wait. In fact, I felt fortunate compared to the many others who didn't get the chance for even a short interview with her. The patients here rightfully took precedence, so anyone hoping to meet her needed to be a patient themselves. For those who aren't, arranging a meeting is nearly impossible. That's why, even though I'm not a patient, I consider myself quite lucky to have this opportunity.
But the issue was my train to Deyjne tomorrow—which was set to leave at 4 a.m. I feared I might oversleep and miss it.
Deyjne—a land whispered about as the repository of an ancient city’s ruins and the planet’s hidden history. A place countless researchers, archaeologists, and curious souls longed to reach. Yet its existence, its location, remained unproven—dismissed as exaggerated tales spun from human imagination, passed down through generations.
That’s how it should have stayed: a myth, a story from the past. Until I saw it in a dream—nestled among pitch-black mountains where sunlight never touched, its crumbled stones and moss-covered relics formed an architecture unrecognizable to any known culture. Towering pillars stretched into a sky of swirling, restless clouds, driven by an unseen force.
A wave of fear washed over me as I gazed upon it, yet an irresistible urge surged within—a deep desire to uncover its secrets. It felt as if that dream was intertwined with my very being, and I was drawn to it. A strange compulsion whispered, beckoning me closer, demanding I explore it, even if it might swallow me into an inescapable darkness.
When I awoke, that sensation lingered, a weight on my shoulders. Something awaited me out there—I couldn’t ignore its call. It felt like a call from the abyss, a place I was convinced was Deyjne.
My instincts told me Deyjne existed, but there was no concrete proof to back it up. The only clue was a rumor: years ago, a group had set sail across the sea, and only one member returned alive.
That seemingly ordinary story captured my interest the moment I heard it. They weren’t locals—so what drove them to venture into the ocean? What were they searching for?
While many might think they were just tourists or secretive researchers, my intuition insisted otherwise: they were in pursuit of Deyjne.
However, proving this was no easy feat. The event had taken place years ago, and investigating it alone felt overwhelming. Yet, the results turned out to be surprisingly promising.
A weathered boatman, nearly sixty, recounted that four years prior, a peculiar group hired him to ferry them to a marked spot on their map on a specific date. Unfortunately, he has already committed to another job, so he declined despite their generous offer, then referring them to another captain.
That refusal turned out to be a smart choice. Because a huge storm hit the sea that day, taking down the group and their boat—or so it appeared.
Why “appeared”? Because I could tell he was not being truthful about the conclusion. When talking, his expression shifted to one of anxiety, his breathing became erratic, his shoulders tensed, and his voice grew shallow. He shuffled his feet nervously, a clear indication that he wanted to escape the conversation.
I couldn’t understand why he would lie. Did he sense my intentions and want to avoid entanglement? Or was there something that pushed him to cut the story short?
Regardless, with the scraps I had and a bit of cunning, I extracted what I needed: one person survived that voyage.
It aligned with the rumor, though identifying them proved tricky—four years blurred memories, and the boatman refused to elaborate.
Still, it ignited a spark of hope. I was heading in the right direction.
Since that moment, things took an unexpectedly positive turn. As I was leaving, a dockworker approached me, likely having overheard my conversation with the boatman. He disclosed that I wasn’t the only one searching for Deyjne.
Initially, I felt cautious and doubtful about how he could possibly know my interest in Deyjne, especially since I had never mentioned that term to anyone. However, after exchanging a few light-hearted remarks, I realized my skepticism was unnecessary; he was simply an information dealer.
For a fee, he revealed that two years prior, a mysterious benefactor had financed a mission to validate Deyjne’s existence, enlisting well-known scientists, researchers, and explorers. He knew that because one participant, after purchasing information from him, had left behind a business card.
His questionable information and constant requests for more money whenever he had additional details led me to suspect he was a scam artist. However, the business card he presented was anything but ordinary. Just by glancing at it, I could tell it was crafted using four different processing techniques, seamlessly integrated into one. The card's surface was made of black velvet paper, a luxurious material that felt incredibly soft and intriguing, adorned with a carefully embossed design that created a striking effect without overshadowing its elegance. These details indicated that this was an expensive card, not something just anyone could possess. This made me somewhat inclined to believe his story about the investor, so when he became distracted, I took the opportunity to switch his card with a different one. After all, he had already taken some money from me, so I felt the card was a fair trade.
With the business card in my hand, I decided to take a chance and reach out to them, hoping to get permission to join the research team for that project. At the time, I didn’t really expect to hear back. To my surprise, just a month later, I received an invitation to participate along with the details for a meeting.
When I arrived, I was taken aback to find only about 8 or 9 people present. They didn’t fit my expectations of scientists or researchers; instead, they resembled typical office workers, their faces weary as if they hadn’t slept in days. Yet, despite their unassuming appearance, their knowledge about the land of Deyjne was extensive. They spoke passionately and vividly about it, as if they had firsthand experience. I could sense that they were more informed about Deyjne than I was.
This was a significant moment for me, as I had found like-minded individuals. However, one question lingered in my mind. Their looks and manner of speaking didn’t suggest wealth or status, so I wondered about the origin of that business card.
When I posed this question, everyone around me chuckled and explained that it came from their sole sponsor. This individual rarely made an appearance and typically sent others to handle necessary tasks. No one understood the sponsor's motives for initiating the project, but it didn’t seem to matter to them. As long as they shared the same goals, the rest was secondary. They were focused on advancing the project, with the sponsor covering all expenses.
Honestly, when I first joined, their work was progressing impressively, if not flawlessly. They had pinpointed a mysterious area beyond the sea, which could potentially be the legendary land of Deyjne.
The information and theories we have are one thing, but to truly understand the reality, we need to go and see for ourselves. That's why everyone agreed to embark on this journey together. When we reached out to that enigmatic sponsor, they took care of all the arrangements we needed for the trip. However, the final travel schedule is still in the hands of the sponsor, and as it stands, we’re set to leave tomorrow.
The narrative could have concluded there, but I stumbled upon some crucial information. If I were to share it, it would begin with the details I painstakingly gathered from various sources. Anyway, notably, a survivor from that incident four years ago had visited this location and consulted with this doctor for treatment.
This was indeed an intriguing detail, but the challenge lay in securing a private appointment with the doctor due to the high volume of patients constantly coming and going.
As I mentioned earlier, everything was progressing smoothly, and this situation was no different. Just a few days later, I received a response letter.
Unfortunately, the timing of the appointment was inconvenient, as it fell just before my departure to Deyjne. Still, I was eager to meet this doctor before I left to verify the information I had received. It would help clarify my thoughts about the upcoming trip.
However, the wait turned out to be much longer than I anticipated. The boredom and fatigue from the prolonged wait made me want to abandon everything and head back home. Just then, a nearby nurse called my number, announcing that it was my turn.
I slowly got to my feet, glancing out the window beside me, only to find that the sky had transformed into a deep black, devoid of any stars.
The clock on the wall continued to tick away in the quiet room. Even though I couldn't express it, I was aware that my mind was quietly fixated on the time shown on that clock.
Could it really be 9 PM already?
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The chilly air from outside, combined with the persistent scent of medicine, made me feel uneasy and caused me to shiver all the way to the doctor's office. However, everything changed the moment I entered that room.
Inside, the temperature was pleasantly warm, a stark contrast to the cold hallway I had just left. The unpleasant medicinal odor was replaced by a soft floral fragrance that filled the air.
These small changes made me feel more at ease, as if the exhaustion from waiting for hours was slowly fading away.
I took my time to look around the room. The predominant white color, paired with brown furniture, created an atmosphere that felt both luxurious and inviting. The door frames, painted in a glossy dark brown, contrasted beautifully with the white walls, while the dark wooden table by the window added a touch of elegance and cohesion to the space.
And then…
“Is there something wrong with this room?”
Startled, I turned to see where the voice was coming from and noticed a lovely girl with gray-brown hair sitting on the sofa in the corner. She smiled at me, her magenta eyes sparkling with intrigue. Although I couldn’t figure out what she was thinking, I guessed she was the doctor I had come to see, given her doctor’s blouse and the easygoing vibe of the room's owner.
“The room is fantastic. You have a great eye for design to create such a beautiful space. By the way, I’m ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉, the one who wrote you that letter. You can also call me ▉ ▉.”
Those magenta eyes remained fixed on me even after I finished my introduction, yet the doctor remained silent. Then, the heavy silence was finally broken by a cough, but it wasn’t mine; it came from the doctor.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t just a quick cough; it persisted, showing no signs of stopping. This made me a bit anxious and hesitant to inquire about her well-being.
However, the doctor seemed to notice my approach and gently shook her head, indicating that she was fine and that I shouldn’t worry about her.
And she was right, because in the next moment, she lowered her handkerchief, and the atmosphere returned to normal. The coughing ceased in the quiet room, except for a soft voice that broke the silence.
“I apologize for this scene during our first meeting. The weather has been quite unpredictable lately, and I seem to have caught a cold. It might be best if we keep a little distance to avoid passing on any illness. Also, there’s no need for such formalities; just call me V-Evette. It will make our conversation much easier.”
Dr. Evette’s magenta eyes shifted to the empty chair across from her, silently inviting me to sit. I hadn’t anticipated that as soon as I took my seat, she would get right to the point without any unnecessary small talk, unlike many others I had encountered.
“Based on the letter you mentioned, you’re interested in the condition of one of my patients?”
“Yes, if Dr. Evette could provide me with some information, it would greatly benefit my research.”
With a warm smile, the doctor carefully poured tea into two cups and handed one to me. However, her gaze didn’t convey the same warmth as her actions; instead, it felt like a subtle challenge lurking beneath that magenta hue. This made me a bit anxious, as I realized that if I left today without any information from the doctor, I would have essentially wasted nearly an entire day.
“According to my professional guidelines, sharing medical records or personal patient information with others without consent is a serious offense.”
I was aware of this rule, yet I still held onto a faint glimmer of hope. If she truly didn’t want to share anything, she could have easily declined my request from the start instead of inviting me here just to say that.
This led me to believe there was a deeper reason behind her actions.
“But this situation isn’t entirely hopeless.”
The doctor spoke softly, as if we were merely discussing a routine health check-up. She picked up her cup, blew gently to cool the tea, took a sip, and then set it down with a smile, continuing her thought.
“I’ve heard there’s an expedition group heading to Deyjne, and you’re part of it, correct?”
I narrowed my eyes, beginning to grasp her implication. I had no idea how she knew about my trip tomorrow or our destination, but her direct mention suggested she had a specific reason for bringing it up.
My hands clenched under the table, and I couldn’t help but let a hint of irritation slip into my voice.
“Doctor, do you want information in exchange for a spot on tomorrow’s trip?”
I noticed a flicker of surprise in her magenta eyes, followed by a light laugh that filled the room.
“That’s quite intriguing. However, if I were to do that, that’d be a loss for me.”
A playful jab at my overestimation for my ticket, but it also hinted that she wasn't really interested in what I had said earlier.
“Then why did you bring it up?”
The laughter faded, yet the doctor continued to gaze at me, as if deep in thought. Then, she leaned back, his back pressing against the sofa. She spoke again.
“A trade. I’ll tell some information about that patient, but in return, I need you to take something to Deyjne.”
Take something to Deyjne? It seemed straightforward, but I still had no idea what it was. Plus, the trade felt risky. Setting that aside, the fact that we were heading to Deyjne didn’t guarantee anything, as neither I nor the others could be entirely sure if the location we were going to was truly Deyjne.
Moreover, by taking something to Deyjne, I could obtain the information I sought. It seemed to benefit me more than Dr. Evette. After all, if a doctor were to casually disclose a patient’s private information to someone outside, wouldn’t that lead to legal complications for the doctor, as she had mentioned before?
I glanced at Dr. Evette with a mix of hesitation and caution, but before I could meet her striking magenta eyes again, my nose picked up a scent that caught my attention. My gaze drifted down to the table in front of me, where the aroma originated, and I noticed a five-petaled flower with blue and white hues resting gently on the surface. Oddly, a strange red liquid was seeping from the flower’s edges, pooling beneath the table.
Can flowers bleed? Or am I hallucinating?
My gaze lingered on the crimson liquid spread across the table before shifting to the flower nearby. In that instant, a thought crossed my mind; I had no idea where she had obtained that flower, but it truly was stunning.
“Don’t worry, this is a request from my patient, and I’m simply fulfilling my duty. If you’d prefer to decline, I won’t pressure you.”
The doctor lightly brushed her finger against a petal, offering a warm smile as she spoke.
My gaze lingered on the crimson liquid spread across the table before shifting to the flower nearby. In that instant, a thought crossed my mind; I had no idea where she had obtained that flower, but it truly was stunning.
“Don’t worry, this is a request from my patient, and I’m simply fulfilling my duty. If you’d prefer to decline, I won’t pressure you.”
The doctor lightly brushed her finger against a petal, offering a warm smile as she spoke.
Despite Doctor Evette’s composed demeanor, which suggested that my decision wouldn’t impact her, I sensed there was more beneath her calm surface. If she didn’t agree with my presence here, what significance would it hold for her? This prompted me to speak up, and as I did, a hint of disappointment crept into my voice.
"My journey doesn’t guarantee I’ll find Deyjne. I’m concerned I won’t be able to meet that obligation."
"Don’t worry, I’m confident you’ll succeed."
Even so, the doctor’s tone remained resolute and brimming with assurance. It was a peculiar confidence that left me questioning how she could be so certain of our success.
Upon reflection, it made sense that a wealthy sponsor wouldn’t invest heavily in this venture without expecting positive outcomes from the start. With the wealth of information we had about Deyjne, the chances of locating it seemed promising. Moreover, in the worst-case scenario, if we failed to find Deyjne, I wouldn’t be at a loss. I had already informed the doctor about that possibility, and if any legal issues arose, the responsibility would fall on Dr. Evette, not me.
“Alright, I’ll agree to the request. What does the patient want me to bring to Deyjne?”
Magenta hues continued to gaze at the flower before her, absentmindedly toying with its petals. The doctor's tone, however, was neither hurried nor upbeat; instead, it conveyed a sense of being deeply engaged in the narrative she was about to share.
"There's no need to hurry; it's still early, at least if you're on board with that. So, I should prioritize your request first, right?"
I couldn't help but glance at the clock on the wall, realizing it was only 9:30 PM. Our conversation had barely lasted half an hour, yet it felt much longer and somewhat suffocating.
Meanwhile, the doctor seemed to be waiting with anticipation for something.
"Since you keep records of the patients you've examined and treated, would it be possible for me to see that patient's files?"
At my request, Dr. Evette's hand, which had been playing with the petals, froze. She slowly lifted her gaze to me, searching for the reasoning behind my request. This made me swallow hard, divert my eyes from her, and seek out a cup of tea to soothe my dry throat.
I’m not naive; I understand the implications of my request. I could see why she looked taken aback. Typically, people ask for a brief overview of events, which is far more efficient than poring over lengthy documents. Yet, I was doing the opposite by wanting to read the report instead of listening to the doctor's account.
It may seem absurd, but I have my reasons. To me, hearing a one-sided account from Dr. Evette doesn’t assure me of its accuracy; it could easily be a fabrication. Moreover, Dr. Evette doesn’t strike me as an ordinary person. Even in our brief interactions, she has given off an impression that suggests she is not someone to be underestimated.
Even though I was unsure of the doctor's motives or what she might gain from deceiving me, I figured it was wiser to be cautious. After all, no bait is appealing if there's no trap beneath it.
That's why having a report or medical records would provide the best reassurance for me.
As I lifted my gaze from my teacup, I caught sight of that elusive smile once more. Before I could decipher what it concealed, a shiver ran down my spine, followed by a deep voice.
“I only promised to tell you, not to hand you over, miss.”
I squinted, trying to recall the details of our earlier conversation. It was true that Dr. Evette had only committed to sharing information by telling, not granting me full access to the report or anything similar.
But normally, I shouldn't have felt such a chill, right?
"Isn't it the same? Why not?"
Even though I spoke as calmly as I could, I could sense Dr. Evette's eyes on my slightly trembling hand gripping the cup.
"If you believe there's no difference, then why can't we go with the option I proposed?"
Magenta hues then looked up, locking eyes with me, causing my body to tense up involuntarily. I found myself holding my breath without realizing it.
"Aren't they quicker and more convenient?"
Then, unexpectedly, the low tone of the voice that followed was surprisingly weak, a stark contrast to the previous tone, making me realize something was off with Dr. Evette.
I might not have noticed it at first, but this time, if I listened closely, I could tell there was something distinctly different about the doctor's voice. It sounded weak, slightly hoarse, and less commanding than before. It didn’t seem like a cold was the cause; rather, it felt as if something was lodged in the doctor’s throat, hindering the voice from coming out as it should.
Regardless of the reason, this detail gave me a bit of confidence as I faced Dr. Evette’s question.
"Absolutely, the doctor mentioned that this approach would be quicker and more effective. However, I couldn't shake off a slight concern about the way the doctor sounded; your voice seemed a bit unusual. The weather has been quite unpredictable lately, just as the doctor pointed out, and considering you must have seen numerous patients today, it was likely that Dr. Evette might have caught a cold. Because of that, resting your throat seems wise, so I asked to read it myself."
Those magenta eyes were still fixed on me, and the doctor remained silent. Yet, I could sense the dynamics of our situation. The reason I provided, although not the true motivation behind my suggestion, was difficult to challenge at this moment. Even if Dr. Evette doubted my reasoning, she would need to come up with another argument to counter it.
Given Dr. Evette's personality, I had a feeling she wouldn’t easily concede unless there was some advantage to be gained. What surprised me, though, was her laughter; her magenta eyes shifted to the flower, and she gently brushed her fingers against its petal.
“I don’t mind continuing; it will be gone by tomorrow anyway.”
Gone?
Her soft words left me a bit puzzled. Still, I found it hard to believe that a cold could vanish in just a day.
“However, what you said truly tugs at the heart of a doctor like me. Isn’t it typically my role to guide patients?”
Her magenta eyes followed the movement of her fingers as they glided along the petal's edge, closing with a hint of reluctance.
This moment, no matter how I looked at it, evoked an unintentional sense of sadness, as if the doctor before me was grappling with some unseen sorrow.
“But at least think of it as a reward for your efforts... I’ve lost the mood to narrate anyway.”
Even in that brief moment, which vanished almost instantly, my perspective shifted entirely. The way the doctor suddenly frowned and closed her eyes suggested that something had occurred—perhaps within her or her body—that made her reluctant not to continue “debating” the point I had raised.
While I felt a twinge of concern for Doctor Evette’s well-being, that worry faded as soon as her magenta eyes opened with a sense of calm. Yet, to my surprise, she didn’t speak; instead, she abruptly stood up and walked over to the wooden table, retrieving an old book.
As I pondered what was happening, her deep voice resonated again, accompanied by the book soaring toward me. Instinctively, I reached out and managed to catch it.
“This contains all the information you might need. Just read it.”
A wave of confusion washed over me, but before I could inquire about the book, a sudden, harsh cough erupted from Doctor Evette, who had turned away from me.
This cough was more intense than usual, sounding as if it were trying to expel something but failing, which made it even more distressing and hard to describe.
With hesitation, I glanced at the old, unmarked cover of the book before looking back at the doctor, who was struggling with her cough. I wasn’t sure what information the book held, but since Dr. Evette claimed it was essential, it likely pertained to that patient. Still, the thought of reading it while she was in the midst of such a violent coughing fit made me hesitant to check on her condition.
Just as I was trying to decide what to do, the coughing gradually subsided, restoring the room to its previous quietude.
I had anticipated that the doctor would turn around and offer some comforting words about her sudden cough, or at least allow a moment of silence before either of us spoke. However, the reality was quite different from my expectations. The doctor stood still, not moving, with her right arm lowered and something cradled in her palm.
I squinted, trying to get a glimpse of what she was holding, but the distance and angle made it impossible to see clearly.
In the next moment, instead of turning to me, the doctor silently walked over to the chair beside the wooden table and sat down, gazing at the night sky behind her. Yet, the words from Doctor Evette still resonated in the room, reminding me of another detail about the book I was holding.
“That’s a diary that chronicles the journey. But we both know you’d prefer to immerse yourself in reading it rather than worry about the little things around you, right, Miss V—”
Once again, a cough interrupted her. Even though I wasn’t looking directly into those magenta eyes anymore, I could still feel the weight of her voice, now a bit rougher from the coughing.
“Because I don’t think we have much time left.”
My eyes instinctively darted to the wall clock, its hands moving steadily. I didn’t want to admit it, but the doctor was right. This initial conversation had taken longer than I had anticipated.
At that moment, the clock chimed, marking exactly 00:00 AM.
I carefully opened the book or diary that the doctor had referred to. Despite its worn exterior, the pages inside appeared almost pristine, though they were slightly crinkled and the ink was smudged on several pages. Upon closer inspection, it seemed as if the diary had been submerged in water at some point, rather than suffering from mere wear and tear.
Fortunately, even if it had been wet, much of the elegant and delicate writing remained legible on the pages I had just turned. Yet, I found it hard to fully engage with the content, as a question kept surfacing in my mind.
Before I realized it, the question that had been lingering in my thoughts slipped out.
“Who does this diary belong to?”
I hadn’t expected the doctor to provide an answer, given that our conversation had been limited to what Dr. Evette had shared about that individual. Then, from across the room, a low, slightly raspy voice responded, addressing my curiosity.
“….V-….”
It was just a few hesitant syllables, but I could sense uncertainty in the reply.
Still, I didn’t want to waste any more time and directed my full attention to the diary before me. However, the doctor’s response wasn’t finished yet.
“…. ▉ ▉….”
—————————
The chilly breeze brushed past her, bringing with it a cold sensation that spread from her hand resting on the damp sand, penetrating her skin that still felt the sting of seawater. The strong scent of salt mingled with a fishy odor reminiscent of decaying flesh buried for ages in the ocean's depths, now rising to assault her senses and triggering a headache, which added to her discomfort and slowly stirred her awareness.
Her weary magenta eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus on the dim shadows ahead. With great effort, she tried to prop herself up, only to realize that the sand beneath her was not the soft beach she was accustomed to, but rather coarse and gritty, crunching under her hand as if it were mixed with bone fragments, clinging to her as if to hold on to her fragile existence.
Pushing aside her discomfort, her eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, revealing a flickering scene before her. There, where the waves crashed, stood tall black rocks resembling obsidian, glimmering softly in the pale moonlight like shattered mirrors reflecting the surrounding gloom. In stark contrast, the sky above was devoid of stars, enveloped in an immense darkness that made her feel as though she were being consumed, as if the universe had abandoned her.
Once again, the wind swept through, producing a low whistle that felt oddly unnatural. To her ears, it resembled the whispers of countless voices, echoing from a distance before dissipating into the air.
With her hand resting on her head absentmindedly, she attempted to piece together her memories of how she ended up in this situation. She recalled that her trip to the nearest town had been canceled due to inclement weather, but fortunately, a group of travelers had offered her a ride on their ship. However, midway through their journey, the sky abruptly transformed; dark clouds rolled in like ink, and a storm descended upon them like a curse.
The towering waves crashed against the boat, the dark waters splashing with white foam, accompanied by a strange screech that resembled the howl of a colossal creature lurking beneath the sea. Despite the fierce weather, some passengers on the boat were unfazed, shouting with excitement, their joy mingled with an odd sense of satisfaction. Others peered down at the churning water, giggling uncontrollably and mumbling nonsensical phrases. A few knelt in reverence, tears streaming down their faces, a mix of fear and awe etched on their features.
Then, as if to mock their reactions, another massive wave surged forward, crashing violently into the boat, the sound of splintering wood echoing sharply and tragically. The aging hull of the vessel could not endure the combined force of the storm and the colossal wave, splitting in two and allowing frigid seawater to pour in, pulling many people, including her, into the swirling depths of the ocean.
The event unfolded so abruptly and without warning that it was only when she became aware of it that the salty seawater surged into her lungs, enveloping her in darkness as her consciousness slipped away amidst the ocean's roar.
As for her presence on this island, it seemed likely that the wave had washed her ashore.
With a sigh, she gradually rose to her feet. However, her legs trembled under the weight of her soaked clothes and the sand that clung to them. Her outfit was in tatters, with long rips on her arms and legs, as if they had been scraped during her tumultuous journey through the ocean.
Speaking of the ocean, she found herself gazing out at the expansive sea. The dark, thick water, resembling oil, lapped against the shore with slow, heavy waves, producing a low, resonant sound. In the distance, dense fog hovered over the water, appearing ghostly and ethereal.
There was something peculiar about this island that she could sense as she surveyed her surroundings. Yet, the exact nature of its strangeness was difficult to articulate. She felt a profound heaviness, as if an undercurrent was subtly wrapping around her, slowly pulling her away.
But her contemplation was interrupted by a cold wind that swept past, sending a shiver through her body and reminding her that she needed to act quickly if she wanted to avoid freezing to death.
Instinctively hugging herself against the biting chill, she turned and ventured into the thick forest behind the beach, determined to uncover where she had ended up.
—————————
As she entered the forest, the atmosphere shifted, becoming thick and humid. The air was infused with the scent of decaying earth mingled with a hint of sulfur, reminiscent of an ancient, forgotten tomb. The odor struck her nostrils, prompting an involuntary cough as she pressed her hand to her chest to regulate her breathing.
The towering trees loomed above her, their bare, brittle branches intertwining like a tangle of tentacles, creating a canopy that obscured much of the pale moonlight. Yet, a few feeble beams managed to seep through the openings, casting faint streaks of light on the ground that flickered like ethereal spirits in the breeze.
Beneath her feet lay not soil but a soft, damp layer of peculiar gray moss. Each step produced a squelching sound, akin to treading on living flesh, which made her grimace. The moss seemed to cling to her worn shoes, gently tugging as if trying to prevent her from moving forward.
The forest was unsettlingly quiet, yet not entirely devoid of sound. Muffled whispers echoed from all directions—not from the wind or animals, but from countless tiny voices merging together, both near and far, as if emanating from the branches above or the moss below.
Startled by the eerie murmurs, she instinctively adopted a defensive posture, her magenta eyes narrowing in the darkness as she cautiously scanned her surroundings. A chill ran down her spine, and the hairs on her neck bristled.
Yet, as time passed without any unusual events, she began to relax her vigilance, convincing herself that perhaps the sounds were merely figments of her imagination, and she resumed her journey deeper into the forest.
As she ventured deeper into the woods, each passing minute revealed an increasingly strange scene, leaving her to question whether it was reality or merely a figment of her imagination. The dry branches twisted grotesquely, some resembling broken vertebrae, with their tips jutting out like claws that glimmered in the moonlight. A few of the lower branches appeared to tremble slightly, even in the absence of a strong breeze, as if they possessed a life of their own.
Lost in her observations, she inadvertently brushed against a nearby branch, which recoiled as if startled, sending her into a panic and prompting her to step back.
“What the hell?”
She muttered, her heart racing, and cautiously glanced at the branch. This was no illusion; she could feel the forest pulsating with a strange energy, not in a natural way, but as if unseen eyes were watching her. With her medical background, she tried to rationalize it as an unrecorded biological reflex, yet the chill in her heart suggested something far from ordinary.
The air thickened around her, heavy with the scent of old blood and damp earth, making it hard to breathe. She inhaled deeply, striving to remain calm, but her heart continued to race with anxiety and fear. Yet, amidst those emotions, an odd sense of anticipation surged within her, a mix of dread and excitement reminiscent of dissecting a body to uncover the cause of death.
The darkness seemed to shift around her, with dark shapes flickering at the edges of her vision, but when she turned to look, all she found were still branches. The whispers grew louder, like a disembodied chorus, prompting her to clutch her head for a moment in an attempt to steady herself.
It felt as though I had stepped straight into a nightmare.
With a sigh, she continued her journey, her feet now familiar with the moss beneath her, though the dampness seeping into her shoes still sent a chill through her. Eventually, her seemingly endless trek led her to a clearing in the heart of the forest, encircled by tall stone slabs that stood upright in a natural formation. Each slab was adorned with ancient symbols, etched in flowing, serpentine lines, and they emitted a soft, pale blue glow, flickering like the breath of a slumbering creature.
The atmosphere here felt denser, filled with the scent of scorched metal mingling with decaying earth, prompting Vita to cover her nose as she instinctively squinted to see better. The flickering light from the engravings gradually illuminated the fog in the center, and there, in that clearing, she spotted her.
—————————
The figure stood still, bathed in the soft moonlight that streamed through the tree canopy, surrounded by mist. Her long, blue-black hair shimmered like the night sky, interspersed with silver strands that twinkled like distant stars, creating a captivating contrast. Each silky strand seemed alive, dancing with the wind and carrying the essence of life that embraced her delicate, pale face.
Her skin glowed under the moon's reflection, yet it didn’t evoke fear in those who beheld her. Instead, it radiated youth, purity, and gentleness, reminiscent of a full moon's reflection on calm waters, embodying the delicate balance of life and destruction.
Dressed in a pure white gown that resembled freshly fallen snow, the tattered edges floated gracefully in the breeze, giving the impression of defying gravity. The intricate design of the fabric, combined with her ethereal skin, conjured the image of a goddess emerging from a dream.
The girl's delicate frame radiated a sense of fragility, yet it also emanated a cold, unapproachable presence, embodying a blend of gentle and enigmatic beauty. She resembled a mythical vision caught between moonlight and shadow, captivating onlookers while simultaneously instilling a sense of hesitation to draw near.
In the presence of this mysterious beauty, her heart raced uncontrollably, and she felt an instinctive pull to move closer. For a fleeting moment, the space around the girl seemed to warp subtly—the light bending as if through a fractured mirror, creating strange, quivering lines, while the air around her thickened, as if she were at the heart of an unseen force. Yet, in the blink of an eye, everything returned to its original state.
Her steps halted suddenly, breath caught in her throat, as she opened her magenta eyes wide, fixating on the girl before her. A peculiar sensation surged within her—neither outright fear nor simple curiosity, but a blend of astonishment and intrigue, as if she were encountering an unprecedented medical marvel.
Drawing on her experience as a doctor, she noted the rapid beating of her heart and the pulsing in her temples, yet she couldn't tear her gaze away from the girl. Her beauty was otherworldly—too flawless, too dreamlike, resembling a living sculpture crafted from moonlight and shadows, evoking both fear and fascination.
Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she stepped forward again, the soft moss beneath her shoes making a gentle squishing sound. With a slightly raspy voice, yet still infused with the playful spirit of a doctor aiming to lighten the mood, she said.
“Hello?”
Hearing the echo, the girl tilted her head, her movements deliberate and graceful as she fixed her gaze on Vita. Her eyes, reminiscent of the ocean, were deep and glimmering like two exquisite gems in the moonlight, holding an indescribable essence that was both soothing and unsettling, as if they could peer into the very soul of the person before her. Yet, those eyes lacked any emotion or warmth; they resembled an endless void, cold and mesmerizing, threatening to draw Vita's spirit from her body if she dared to look too long.
Vita swallowed hard, feeling the weight of that gaze pressing down on her chest, but her tenacious nature refused to let her retreat. She pressed on.
“I’m Vita, a doctor,” she said, mustering a smile to project confidence, even as her heart raced. “You might have guessed… or maybe not, but I was shipwrecked and ended up on this island by chance. And you… what’s your name?”
Her voice resonated in the stillness, but only silence answered back. It was a silence that felt neither shy nor awkward but rather like an unyielding barrier, cold and impenetrable, making Vita shiver involuntarily.
The girl remained silent, her deep-set eyes fixed on Vita, her small lips pressed tightly together, showing no sign of emotion.
In response to the quiet, Vita instinctively tilted her head, her gaze wandering over the girl’s features. Her pale skin showed no veins or signs of life, her hair floated as if it had a will of its own, and her pristine white dress, though frayed at the edges, still exuded an unusual elegance.
“Can’t you speak?”
Vita inquired, half in jest and half earnestly, attempting to lighten the tension between them, but unfortunately, she was met with silence. The girl's lack of response left Vita feeling uneasy, yet it also piqued her curiosity more than ever. This was no ordinary person—her instincts told her that much, even as her rational mind sought a logical explanation.
In a moment of uncertainty, her right hand lifted slightly but paused mid-air, the finger that had once gripped the scalpel now trembling as Vita attempted to reach out and touch the girl's wrist.
The urge to check her pulse—a reflexive action for any doctor assessing signs of life—surfaced within her, but something held her back. The girl's pale skin appeared unnaturally cold, resembling a block of ice shaped like a human, and the blue of her eyes seemed to scrutinize every movement, making Vita feel as though she was about to cross into forbidden territory.
She bit her lower lip, the magenta hue quickly shifting from the girl's wrist to her still face, searching for any signs of life, but all she encountered was still profound silence.
What am I doing?
Vita questioned herself internally, her hand still suspended, her index finger curling and uncurling as her curiosity clashed with her reason. Ultimately, her curiosity as a doctor prevailed. Taking a short breath, her shoulders trembled slightly as she lowered her hand, gently making contact with the girl's delicate wrist.
As soon as Vita's skin brushed against the frigid surface, a jolt of icy terror shot down her spine, as if she had encountered something otherworldly. There was no heartbeat, no warmth—only an eerie stillness, as if the body had transcended the realm of the living.
Vita's eyes widened in shock, her breath quickening, but before she could retract her hand, her thoughts began to spiral.
▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉
A throbbing ache filled her ears, overwhelmed by a sound that penetrated her mind without any physical barrier. It resonated within her skull, as if a voice was murmuring from deep inside, causing her head to buzz and her vision to waver and twist.
▉ ▉ ▉
Voices—no, a multitude of voices—swirled together. One deep voice, reminiscent of crashing waves from the depths, reverberated through her chest, squeezing her heart. Alongside it was a whisper, dry and rustling like leaves caught in the wind, brushing against her ears and evoking the unsettling sensation of someone lurking just behind her. Then, a small yet piercing scream pierced the air, echoing the desperate cry of a trapped soul, sending chills down her spine and cold sweat trickling down her face. The sounds formed no recognizable words, but rather a chaotic, ancient string of syllables from a long-forgotten language.
▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ———Se ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉———le ▉ ▉ ———Seele——▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉-▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉
Fortunately, the cacophony faded almost instantly, leaving Vita in shock, her hand retracting as if it had been scorched, her eyes wide as she stared at the girl before her.
—————————
When Vita unexpectedly touched her wrist, the girl's expression shifted slightly, almost imperceptibly unless observed closely. Her blue eyes narrowed a fraction, not from pain or discomfort, but as a natural response to the invasion of her personal space.
Her head tilted slightly, the motion so gradual it felt almost surreal. Her tightly sealed lips parted just a bit—not to speak, but as an unseen breath slipped out, producing a faint sound reminiscent of wind whistling through a rock crevice, cold and distant.
Then, her expression returned to its previous stillness, the blue in her gaze deepening slightly, the light within flickering faintly, as if she were scrutinizing Vita with newfound curiosity. There was no smile, no anger—just an unsettling calm, as if Vita’s actions had stirred a tiny fragment of her, yet not enough to shatter the enigmatic barrier surrounding her.
“Se… Seele?”
Vita whispered, her voice barely audible, her breath quickening as if she had sprinted a long distance. She had never encountered that phrase before, never seen or known it, yet the words echoed in her mind with clarity, as if the girl had etched them into her consciousness through their brief contact.
Vita took a small step back, her hands trembling as she pressed them to her chest, attempting to calm her uneven breathing. Her head buzzed, the chaotic sounds from earlier still reverberating in her mind, leaving a dull ache. Her magenta eyes were fixed on the girl with the blue hue, but her vision was now shrouded in a thin veil of mist, rendering the girl’s form even more elusive in the pale moonlight.
“Seele…”
Vita repeated this time with greater conviction, as if saying the word could help her hold onto the reality that was slipping away.
The girl remained there, motionless like a specter emerging from the fog, but the blue in her presence seemed to deepen, stretching infinitely through Vita and into the dark forest beyond. Her lips were no longer parted, yet the air around her quivered slightly—a subtle movement, like ripples on a calm surface, causing the moss beneath her feet to shudder and emit a faint squelching sound.
Vita sensed a shift within her, though she couldn't tell if it was genuine or merely a trick of her troubled mind. Her instincts as a doctor urged her to reach out again and verify if this body was truly alive, but a chilling sensation restrained her hand, as if an unseen warning echoed from the depths of her soul.
“Who are.....you? What.... are you?”
Vita inquired, her tone stripped of its usual playfulness, replaced instead by a blend of curiosity, discomfort, and fear. She swallowed hard, attempting to piece together the jumbled thoughts swirling in her head.
“That word… Seele… where did it... come from? Why did I... hear it?”
She glanced at her hand, which had just brushed against Seele’s wrist, and the coldness still clung to her fingertips, as if an invisible imprint had been left behind.
The girl remained silent, but this time, her head tilted slowly to one side, moving like a marionette guided by unseen strings. Her ocean-blue eyes flickered with a subtle glow, not merely a reflection of the moonlight, but a flame igniting from within her. The light lingered for a brief moment, enough for Vita to sense that it was more than just illumination; it held a consciousness, a presence that transcended her understanding. Then, it vanished, leaving the blue of her eyes to settle back into a state of calm, though not entirely as tranquil as before.
A faint curve appeared at the edges of the girl’s lips. It wasn’t quite a smile, but rather an instinctive response—cold and distant—suggesting that she acknowledged Vita’s presence, albeit in a way that felt anything but human.
Vita felt her heart racing, not only due to the enigmatic phrase echoing in her mind but also because of the girl’s presence—both captivating and frightening, familiar yet strange. She took another step back, her shoes slipping slightly on the moss, nearly causing her to lose her footing.
“I don’t get it,” Vita said, her voice quivering, yet her gaze remained fixed on the figure before her. “You have no pulse, no breath… and still, you’re here. What are you?”
As a doctor, Vita was accustomed to confronting death and lifeless bodies, but the girl in front of her was unlike anything she had ever seen. She was neither alive nor dead—she was something entirely different, a mystery that defied Vita’s scientific understanding.
The space around them seemed to constrict, the murmurs from the gnarled branches growing louder, as if the forest itself was reacting to Vita's inquiry. The sounds blended with the chilly wind that swept through, carrying the scent of decaying earth and scorched metal, making the atmosphere feel denser.
Vita turned her head to scan the surroundings, searching for the source of the whispers, but all she could see was the thick darkness between the trees, and the pale moonlight appeared to be shrouded by a heavier fog drifting in from the depths of the forest.
When she looked back at the girl, she noticed that she remained still, yet her eyes seemed to track Vita’s every movement—not with human curiosity, but with a chilling scrutiny, as if evaluating a small creature that had intruded upon her domain.
Under that gaze, Vita could only wrap her arms around herself in fear, the cold sensation from their earlier contact still lingering, and she murmured, almost to herself.
“Seele… if that’s your name, what are you doing here? And why do I feel like I’ve touched something I shouldn’t have?”
Seele remained quiet, yet this time she took a gentle step toward Vita—not in a rush, but as slowly as a ghost gliding over water. Her worn white dress fluttered softly, the edges of the fabric hanging delicately in the air, and the atmosphere around her quivered slightly, as if her very being was warping reality.
Vita felt a tightening in her chest, not from sheer terror, but from an unsettling sense that she had crossed a line, and now something was watching her.
She stepped back again, her shoes slipping on the moss again, which forced her to extend her arms for balance. In that instant, her voice faltered, losing the assured tone of a doctor accustomed to high-stakes situations.
“Wait.”
The magenta eyes widened, shifting from Seele’s deep blue gaze to the small hand that had just brushed against hers—the icy touch lingering on Vita’s fingertips like a persistent burn.
“What… what are you going to do?” she asked, aware that her question might go unanswered. Yet, she felt compelled to speak; voicing her thoughts was the only way to maintain a semblance of control over what was happening.
Seele halted just a few feet from Vita and, for the first time, lifted a hand. It was a delicate hand with slender fingers, pale as porcelain, yet lacking any warmth of humanity. The hand hovered in the air, not making contact with Vita, but the mere gesture caused the air to quiver slightly, as if stirring something unseen within the forest. The whispers from the gnarled branches surrounding them intensified, transforming from a single murmur into a chaotic symphony, rising and falling in a cacophony, as if the forest itself was reacting to Seele's presence.
Vita grasped her head, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling as the sounds reverberated in her mind once more. This time, however, they were nothing but chaos, resembling the cries of countless souls ensnared in darkness.
“Stop it!”
Vita shouted, extending her hand as if to push Seele away, fully aware that it was a futile gesture. Yet, Seele’s hand moved closer and abruptly halted in Vita’s hair, causing the whispers in the forest to cease, plunging them into an unsettling silence.
Vita inhaled sharply, cold sweat trickling down her forehead. Her magenta eyes fixated on Seele’s hand, which was now clutching a small branch hidden within her hair. Slowly, her gaze traveled up to Seele’s unmoving face—no smile, no blink—like a living statue, too stunning to be real. Unintentionally, Vita's heart, which had just been gripped by fear, began to race again, captivated by the beauty before her.
Each heartbeat resonated in her chest like a drum, echoing in her mind, but that sound soon faded, replaced by a low hum, reminiscent of wind whistling through a deep cave. Her vision started to blur, as if a thin veil of fog was clouding her sight.
She took a deep breath, striving to remain alert, but the air she drew in felt different—cold and thick, carrying the scent of decaying earth and blood, as if she were swallowing something from another realm.
Realizing the shift in her consciousness, Vita pressed her hand against her chest, her nails digging into her palm, hoping the pain would jolt her back to reality. Instead of awakening, she felt her head grow light, as if her consciousness was being drawn out of her skull, adrift in an unfamiliar void.
"No… no,” she whispered, her voice faint and nearly lost in the air, quickly consumed by the eerie stillness of the forest.
Vita’s legs shook, and she attempted to step back, but the soft moss beneath her seemed to grip her feet, wrapping around her heels like unseen hands, dragging her down. She fell to the ground, her palms pressing into the earth, and the chill of the moss seeped through her skin, coursing up her arms like a frigid stream.
With her head lowered, her gray-brown hair fell over her face, blocking her view. Yet, through the strands, she could make out Seele standing still, her bright blue eyes piercing through the darkness.
Seele held the branch delicately, treating it like a treasured item, but her movements lacked any warmth—they were cold and mechanical, a silent ritual. The dry wood snapped softly in her grip, and from the break, a drop of gray-purple sap trickled down, landing on the moss and merging with its unusual hue.
The forest's whispers returned, but this time they formed a single, deep sound that lingered like a haunting lullaby. The noise wrapped around Vita’s ears, intertwining with her thoughts, each pulse matching the rhythm of her slowing heartbeat. She felt her eyelids grow heavy, as if an unseen force was weighing them down, yet she managed to raise her head, her opaque magenta eyes meeting Seele’s one last time.
“Seele…” she breathed, the name escaping her trembling lips as both a plea for help and a recognition of her inability to resist what was unfolding.
The purple-gray mist rose from the moss, coiling around Vita’s legs and creeping up to her knees before enveloping her waist like living tendrils. It was so frigid that it numbed her skin, yet it also evoked an odd sensation, as if it were drawing her into a dreamlike state.
Her vision began to narrow, the landscape around her gradually blurring, while Vita felt her body lean to one side, the hands that had been supporting her on the moss losing their strength.
Then, Vita collapsed, her hair fanning out on the ground, and the soft moss quivered slightly as her body made contact, as if it were cradling her and pulling her deeper into the earth. Her awareness slowly dimmed as her magenta eyes drifted shut.
Seele stood still, her blue gaze narrowing slightly, as if she were witnessing a remarkable event, watching Vita’s body descend.
Her head tilted slowly to one side, and her tightly sealed lips parted to release a thin mist that mingled with the swirling fog around Vita. A faint sound emerged from the mist, reminiscent of wind whistling through a rock crevice, but this time it carried a peculiar rhythm, like an ancient, forgotten melody.
▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉
▉ ▉ ▉ ▉
▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉
▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉
▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉ ▉
The mist emanating from Seele enveloped Vita's still form, causing the moss beneath her feet to pulse rhythmically. Delicate strands of moss began to creep upward, gently encasing Vita's body, offering a soft embrace as if shielding her from the chill of the surrounding forest.
With a gradual motion, Seele released the branch, and upon its descent, the moss quivered slightly, as if welcoming the branch into its embrace. The vibrant green glow dimmed, revealing a pair of profound, tranquil cosmic eyes gazing down at the small creature that had just drifted into slumber.
The forest trembled subtly, the gnarled branches swayed gently, and a deep, soothing whisper resonated from the shadows, echoing like a lullaby meant to guide Vita into her dreams.