Chapter 8

Her hair falls in long, flowing waves, framing her face like a dark veil, with a beautiful ornament nestled into the side of it. Her eyes, half-lidded, are cast downward in quiet contemplation, though there’s a sharpness beneath them too. No doubt, this woman screams powerful. Resting her chin against interlaced fingers, she gives the impression of one who already knows the answers to questions, you haven’t dared yet to ask. Grace and imminence linger in equal measure, the kind of presence that makes silence feel heavier than words.

She isn’t beautiful in the way mortals are. Her beauty carries weight, the kind that makes the very ground beneath her feel sacred making you worship every single inch of it, as if she were a living deity and you an eternal, loyal, unworthy devotee. A certain Sunfish Bastard would be slapped on the cheeks twice for such existence. It goes without saying, but I find myself completely mesmerized by her.

She smiles, faintly, as if reading that thought too. Crap, I forgot she has that annoying ability of hers! Wait more importantly, the Founder Witch?

"Do not worry, I don't intend to harm you, you're safe in here, for the time being anyway." she says, probably sensing my fear.

F-For the time being? Does that mean as long as I comply with her demands, she won't harm me? "What is this place anyway?" I ask, my voice low, careful. "What is this place anyway?" I ask, my voice low, careful.

She tilts her head. “Hm… I suppose you could call it my dominion.” Her tone is light, she almost sounds bored, but it lands heavy in my chest. She gestures idly toward the vaulted ceiling. “The strange dreams you’ve been experiencing." Her eyes flick to the empty seats. "That was my doing.”

Her doing? Dominion? Suddenly everything clicks. Hm...I see, I see. The uneasiness, the way this place made me feel, no wonder I was feeling so intimidated by her. I'm essentially standing in her home turf! At the very place where she controls every inch of reality!

Not only that, but now she's telling me she's the mastermind behind the "dream warning" I had the night before everything went to hell?

But why?

I glance around me again. If she can bend everything in this place like clay, then that explains how she concealed her presence from me, before she uttered a single word. So, space manipulation, is it? But only in this specific space. And she can also send prophetic-like dreams as a warning? Dreams? Wait, that's right, I was dreaming when that happened!

"So..." I swallow. "I assume this is also a dream?"

"That's correct." She responds with the the barest hint of a smile, as if pleased I’ve at least shown that much common sense. "Here, I can materialize anything I put my mind into, as well as host other consciousnesses, and even warn people of danger.”

The scenery arounds us shifts in rapid succession, a lush valley bursting with radiant flowers, a battlefield drenched in war and death, the fathomless ocean where coral blooms and schools of fish drift past. With a flick, she restores the church-like hall, the long dining table stretching once again between us. However unlike last time, upon it shimmer into existence platters of what I guess would be this world’s most famous dishes, each more elaborate than the last.

“This won’t fill your stomach,” she says lightly, “but it will satisfy your mind.”

Yeah, no way I'm touching that. I might be dumb, but not THIS dumb. I've read enough fiction to know the "lavish feast" trick: it looks divine and tasty until you realize you've been gnawing on rotten food and maggots the entire time. Nu, uh, uh, not on MY watch.

Right, since you can read my mind anyway, I'll communicate this way, it's less troublesome if you don't mind.

"Go ahead.", she says evenly.

What I really want to ask her is obviously the big elephant in the room, why did she help me? What are her motives? What's in it for her? People don't extend a hand for nothing, unless they gain something from it, that's how things worked in my old world and I doubt this one is any different; everything comes with a price. But even if I asked, would she actually tell me the truth?

I know the answer, or rather, I know I won't get an proper answer. If I confront her, she'll probably smile, say some vague or mystical bullshit and then redirect my question. Worst case scenario, she'll feed me a half-truths and manipulate me into doing god knows what, digging me only deeper into her game. So it's pointless. I need to stop thinking about non-practical stuff and seek information that I actually could put into work.

First priority: learn basic knowledge about this world. Language, religion, culture, geography, power structures, anything really, that will help me determine what kind of genre I find myself in, and how dire my situation really is. If I’m going to be stay here for a while until I figure stuff out, at the very least I should make it worthwhile.

Second: Figure out how and why did I get here.

Third: Find out the reason behind the attack. It's too convenient to be a regular accident, especially during the first night I spent in the village. I need to figure out if I have some special role in all of this, if I have some sorts of special super power they're drawn to, or if I'm just overthinking stuff.

Come to think of it, you mentioned something about my soul. What about it? Is it damaged? My eyes narrow as I study her, tracking every subtle movement and shift in expression, hunting for the tiniest crack in her facade.

She doesn’t answer immediately. Her gaze drifts, unreadable, and the silence stretches just long enough for my mind to start spiraling.

“Yes.” she says at last, her voice smooth as still water. “Some of it's fragments are missing, so you could call it damaged.”

Fragments? My stomach twists. I see, so something really did happen to me. Then… could that be the reason why I’m missing all my memories?

“Who's to say. The soul is a reflection of the self, after all.” She responds indifferently.

I nod slowly. It tracks. Even back in my world, most religions and old moral stories insisted the soul was part of a person’s essence. So I'm not exactly shocked to find the same belief, also holds true here. Still, the question remains. Who or what, could've possibly do that to me? Who could've been responsible for wiping my memories clean, dragging me into this world, yet somehow leaving my presumed old personality, mostly intact.

A ancient, otherworldly god? A curse? Maybe some royal summoning ritual gone wrong, like the king’s mages tried to call a hero from another world, in order to fight their demon lord but botched the coordinates, and now I’m the unfortunate result? Or maybe did I hit my head really hard and somehow shatter my metaphysical bits? The soul shouldn’t just break like a dropped plate though, right?

She stays silent, intimidating eyes locked onto me. I can feel her skimming through my thoughts as easily as she’s looking at my face. I shift in my chair. Ugh, I'm not good at eye contact, I'm a shut-in, please stop. (= _ =;)

Uh… since you can read my mind anyway, I say, forcing a weak smile, you’ve probably realized I’m not exactly from around here. I don’t remember my past life, but I know  I had one, and I can confidently say it was nothing like this place. So naturally, I have no idea about this world knows. Could you perhaps enlighten me with any information that could prove useful, I would be eternally grateful. It's really difficult with not knowing the language and all. Gulp.

Wait... that's right I don't understand the language in the first place, so how come I can converse with you just fine??

She tilts her head once again. Girlie seriously, any more of that, and your head might completely fall off. “As I have mentioned, our consciousnesses are as one, hence because I know the language, so do you. However, that is temporary. Once you leave this place , naturally, so will my knowledge.”

My mind snags on her words. Shit, can't I have some kind of shortcuts at the very least? Damn, this world is so cruel to me. T_T

Then does that mean I'm still alive? That I still have a chance, to return to the living?

“Your body is unconscious,” she puts it simply. “That is all I can confirm. Beyond that, I lack the power to divine your state. Actually, I was hoping you might enlighten me.” she once again makes eye contact with me.

I blink at her. Wait, If you don't know what's going on...And I don't know what's going on... Then whose driving the bus?! I sigh... Because of course the socially awkward guy has do the talking. And so I do: haltingly, stumbling over my words, I recount the confusion, the panic, the discomfort, I had to endure ever since I got here... and yes, how I may have... possibly, admired the build of a certain tall, muscular, adorable individual. AHEM, anyways.

She sips her tea while I pour my heart out to her. Wait, tea? What the hell, where did that even come from?! How long has she been sipping on that?!

When I finish, she only murmurs, “Hm. I see.”

“You don’t sound surprised,” I mutter exhausted and defeated.

“That’s because I’m not.” she responds sharply.

Wow. Oh okay, yeah, yeah. Oh okay. She’s kind of rude, innit? Wooow, like even after I told her all about my tragic past, she doesn't even bat an eye. She's so cruel. Bring me back already, I've had it with her!

She stares at me unamused.

Phew, okay. I'm good now. I'll stop.

I open my mouth to ask more questions, but stop when I notice her gaze isn’t on me. Hm? Instead it drifts past me, into the darkness of the abyss around us. Her posture shifts, snapping into something sharp, precise, and utterly serious.

“It seems we have some uninvited guests, eavesdropping us.”

A chill creeps down my spine. “What?”

Then she looks straight at you. Her irises flare violet-silver. When she speaks again, her voice is no longer soft but a command that cuts:

“Enough. Out.”

Access denied. You have been cast away.