Song of Bliss

 Fate was not through with Peter in the present, not yet at least. Peter blinked to find he was no longer as a phantom, but within the present world of Zemliharos, though he felt just as paralyzed in his actual body as he floated in the air. He felt as if he were having an episode of sleep paralysis, unable to lift a finger while several balls of light lifted him into the air, chanting a language Peter had no hope of understanding, at least from a comprehensive point of view. Yet, he understood the cooling smoothness that filled his body while listening to it, the heavenly sopranos that lulled him into an utter state of bliss. It wasn’t the cold numbness that he experienced only moments before while awaiting his fate at death’s door, or when put under the slumber of anesthesia. This beckoning melody brought a deep contentment, as if he were preparing to doze off after a hardy feast and strong portion of wine to lull him to sleep.

At first, the wound in his arm felt as if it had been reopened, that same unmistaken sharpness from such a deep cut daggering its way into his flesh. Then, all the tension disappeared as if all the tension was massaged away within an instant, then a tingling ecstasy filled his mind as he could feel his flesh tourniqueting itself, until his wound vanished as if it never existed. The vilas lowered Peter from the air, his jubilation both physically and metaphorically grounded as the nymphs positioned him to step onto the ground once more. As Peter’s feet hit the ground, he never felt so rejuvenated in his life. It was as if he had lost 40 pounds and every inch of fog had lifted from his brain, leaving only the best of him behind. Lyana and Jakov stared at the Vilas in awe over their miracle, while Tinnie managed to fully sever the Drakavoc’s head from its oversized neck, engulfed with his new trophy.

“The debt has been repaid.”

“Knights take the shape of many forms afterall.”

“Are bears still knights?”

“They are if they gave us our tree back.”

Peter turned to face the glowing balls of light as they buzzed around the night sky, with dozens more haloing the night sky around the red oak tree, their blissful harmony worming its way within his ear.

“Stay awhile.”

“Surely the bold knights, and, er, lady could use the rest.”

Lyana walked up to Peter, her hushed words leaving her tongue with a shift sharpness, “We have to leave now, or else we never will.”

“They’re right, sure we could use the rest.”

“That’s the thing, you’ll be resting with them for the rest of your life if you don’t move, now.”

Peter turned back to face the nymphs as they buzzed in place with anticipation. “We sincerely appreciate the offer, but we must reach Ragusiic with haste, our people die by the day without our aid.” Peter paused, marveling at how his voice flowed, without the ticks that made every word that left his mouth feel as if he were also trying to chew on ice while he spoke.

“Oh, nonsense, what’s a night of good cheer, after vanquishing such a foul beast no less.”

“Come, let’s celebrate. The song and jig become easier with each step.”

The villa’s phantoms took a more prominent, spectral form, as if they were actually the size of a woman. Peter did his best to try and ignore their nude figures, as Lyana glared at him. A few of them strutted around Jakov and brushed across his neck and shoulders before joining their sisters in a dance. Yet, Tinnie remained oblivious, marveling at the rows of teeth within his mutilated monstrosity's head with a childlike wonder.

Lyana tugged at Peter, who could feel that same blissful wanderlust fill his head once more while the nymphs giggled and pranced within their circle dance, their eyes playfully darted over to the ragtag group of adventures. Jakov inched closer to the formation, fully entertaining their beckoning call as a trancelike bliss covered his face. Peter couldn’t deny it, every impulse within him wanted nothing less than to join in, despite his typical aversion to even try dancing, let alone in an attempt to impress a horde of beautiful young women, without a hint of their modesty left to the imagination. If it wasn’t for Lyana’s burning yellow eyes judging every twitch on his face, he might’ve let himself fully go to embrace the madness. Yet, she was right, the whole urge felt forced, as if he weren’t acting from his own thoughts. The song then seemed a little too perfect, without a sense of organic variation, its allure feeling more like a net than an escape.

“Jakov!” Peter could now see the song for what it was, a never ending trance designed to keep those who stepped inside numb to the world around them, and while Peter appreciated its medicinal uses, he couldn’t let himself be consumed into its grasp while hundreds of people were reduced to livestock on his watch. Jakov paused, turning back to look at his lord. At first, his glance was cold and empty, as if he were looking at a stranger who approached him when he wished to be left alone, but then the warmth Peter was familiar with returned. He glanced back at the dancing nymphs, but then turned his back on them entirely.

“Come on Tinnie, we’re leaving.”

Lyana couldn’t hide her smile as Peter stepped away from their influence and back into the world they knew, the world that carried far less glamour to Peter, but felt real, lived in with all of its faults. Soon even Tinnie abandoned his new trophy and left the dismembered head besides its body, and while the song’s allure never fully left Peter’s head, its tune grew fainter and fainter, until only the chirps of crickets and the morning caws of mockingbirds took their place once more.