Parto 1: La Vizitanto. 10: La Deliro

The thunk of the descending elevator door made me realize what was happening. My eyes filled with tears.

I wasn’t sad. I felt happy for Arakil, and excited about my turn next year. Rather, until then, I hadn’t considered that Arakil wouldn't be there with us, as they always had been. They were the person I had spent the most time with in my life, even more than with my parents, whom I almost didn’t remember.

“I’ll miss you all,” Arakil said.

“We’ll miss you too,” I said, holding back the urge to cry.

Moments later, Arakil was gone, the ascending elevator leaving us in a stunned silence, each lost in our own memories.

“Very well, children,” La Instruisto 1-4 said, breaking the silence. “La Instruistoj will handle the cleaning today. You may return to your rooms and rest for the new year.” They made it sound like a suggestion as always, but somehow it felt like an order.

As I walked towards Ĉelo Kvar, a cramp in my stomach made me forget the solemnity of the moment. I pressed on my belly.

“You okay, Kanako? Is it Arakil?” Gabino asked me.

I shook my head.

“No. It’s the cake.”

The normal thing would have been for them to make a joke, but I think none of us were in the mood for jokes. I looked at them and noticed that they had been crying. They offered to escort me back, but the pain came in waves, so I declined.

“I hope you feel better soon,” they told me.

Before I entered Ĉelo Kvar, I glanced back. Serena and Osiris were gone, but Medusa still watched the elevator. An instruisto approached them, likely urging them to return to their room.

Before entering my room, Medusa caught up with me.

“Can I sleep with you?” they asked, rubbing their eyes. I was exhausted too.

“Not today, sorry,” I told them. “I feel a little unwell.”

Medusa looked right into my eyes for a moment and then left, disappointed, or perhaps thoughtful.

I threw myself onto my bed, the pain intensifying with each wave. Ugh, I’ll never eat that cake again, I promised myself. I tried everything: water, lying face down, curling up into a ball. But just when I was about to fall asleep, another wave of pain would jolt me awake.

Soon, nausea joined the pain, increasing with every movement. Trembling and drenched in sweat, I went to find an instruisto.

The common room of Ĉelo Kvar was dark and silent. Everyone was asleep in their rooms. I wanted to follow them to the land of dreams, too.

Stumbling, I reached the main door, but I found it locked. I didn’t even know it could lock. I tried to force it, pulling, but I only worsened my symptoms. After the third attempt, I had to run to the shared bathroom.

Six slices of cake abandoned my body.

I washed my face and drank water. The pain was gone, but the world spun, and I shivered despite the controlled temperature. A darkness spread inward from the edges of my sight. I was going to faint. I don’t remember how, but I got back to my room.

The waking-up music brought me back to the world.

Rubbing my eyes, I tried to recall the previous night. It felt unreal. I checked my head and my stomach. I got up, tested my balance, even tried a handstand. Nothing. My body acted as if everything had been just a dream.

When I reached La Kerno, breakfast was already served. The other children were energetic and loud; we must have all slept well, relieved after La Flugo or excited for the new year. Or both.

Even Medusa was already sitting at the table. Inconceivable.

“Are you feeling better?” they asked me, tapping the seat to their right, inviting me.

“Good as new!” I replied. I sat in the chair they had chosen for me.

“Nice! Yesterday you looked so sick, I thought we would get two new ĉelomates instead of one,” Gabino said.

“Maybe you were right, and I am…” I paused, lowering my head before springing up, making clawing motions with my hands. “Ghost Kanako!”

“Are the new ones arriving today?” Serena interrupted, ignoring my joke.

“Yes, tonight,” Medusa replied.

The older kids leaving meant a vacant spot in each ĉelo. Serena, of course, was eager to meet our new companion.

“I wonder what they’ll look like,” Serena thought aloud. “I hope it’s a cute kid.”

Gabino’s eyes gleamed.

“Who says it’ll be a child?” they grinned, trying to scare Serena. “It could be anything. A vampire, or a ghost, like Kanako here. Or even a bear or an octopus!”

I stopped eating. That word reminded me of something.

“Or a Gabino,” Medusa said, glancing at them.

Serena laughed, and Gabino didn’t know what to say, so breakfast continued without further incident.

When we finished eating, I signaled Gabino to come with me, and we went to the Ĉelo Kvar’s shared room.

“Okay, so, last night, I threw up all the cake…”

“Eew! Why are you telling me this? We just ate!” they complained, but I ignored them.

“…But then I had a dream. I was in the common room, but everything was so cold and dark. Well, I think it was dark because I was about to faint. And maybe it was cold because I had a fever…”

“Are you telling me a nightmare, or did this happen for real?” they asked.

“Well, I don’t know. It was a dream or a delirium. Everything is very confusing. But anyway, it doesn’t matter. What I want is for us to think about what it means. I was there in the shared room, when I saw something moving in La Kerno. I looked out the window, and everything was blurry outside… as if from the cold… what’s that called?”

“Fog,” Gabino said.

“Yes, like there was fog.”

“You realize that they regulate temperature, humidity, and air pressure here, don’t you?”

“Yes, but well, we could also find meaning in me feeling that cold, and…”

“You already said it was because you had a fever, though.”

“Stop interrupting me! I haven’t gotten to the most important part! Through the fog, I could see things moving. Some sort of red lights. They were moving everywhere, as if they were carrying things. But then, a line of lights passed close to the window, and it looked like an octopus… a metal octopus with red eyes!”

Gabino stared at me, their eyes wide with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

“The octopus was carrying something with its tentacles. And I looked at what it was, and it was a person. And, and, and that person looked at me. And it was Arakil!”

Gabino frowned and exhaled. They seemed disappointed.

“Oh, here we go. I hope we don’t get a full year of ‘I dreamt of Arakil!’” they said, rolling their eyes. “And just when I was so happy that the ‘I dreamt of Indigo!’ year was over at last.”

I frowned.

“It wasn’t like that,” I said, crossing my arms. “It was… uncomfortable. I don’t know how to explain it. Like when you know something is about to change and you feel it getting closer.”

Gabino’s expression softened. They looked out at La Kerno through the same window from my dream, a flicker of worry in their eyes.

“Maybe… maybe it’s just because we’re all thinking about La Flugo,” they said. “It’s a big change. Dreams can be weird when you’re stressed and sick.”

I nodded, clinging to their explanation. It had to be that. Just a delirium. But the image of the metal octopus and Arakil’s eyes wouldn’t fade, burned forever in my memory.