I took my time getting used to not struggling against death for a while, as I internalized what just occurred. Especially where I have just been to.

I have my doubts, and I don’t believe it to be a mere dream.

It reminded me of my time in the strange city. The floating physics of the place, and the weirdness of the concepts have stuck with me. Even if the place might not exist anymore.

‘I wonder what happens when a city like that is dissolved? Does it have any real-life implications?’ I think I could ascribe it to the appearance of a void town.

But I wasn’t sure.

How much were they really similar? I couldn’t recall much about the place anymore, apart from the feeling of strangeness and weirdness. And why could something so metaphysical affect the real life in such a way?

Maybe I’m still stuck in a way of thinking far from required for this world, but it’s always better than making all kinds of ridiculous theories.

The questions mulled in my head, as I forced myself to think of my original concern. Thinking of high-level stuff I’m not eligible to participate in is a good way to fuel my overthinking.

‘Yes, so the sea. Or ocean. Doesn’t matter. I am 95.4% sure that I was once again in the Canvas. Or something like that.’ How did I enter it unconsciously; or who helped me in the end before killing me? No idea.

The only thing that really mattered right now, I realized, was what was it trying to show me. Is it just a sick fascination of seeing helpless souls struggle at the edge of death, or something more?

It was pretty coincidental. The fact how these visions change with places. In the last one I remember, I was being attacked from every direction while being protected by a fragile school of floating fish.

While in this one, I was being sucked into a whirlpool of unbelievable margins while being helped by dead souls. Could it be a sign?

I did not feel like continuing that thought. I frowned at the implication of yet another struggle. I did not like that at all.

A ticking clock. My frown deepened. The clock was ticking towards what possibly be my death, and I wasn’t stupid, nor naive enough to believe I’d be saved every time. Nor by unknown super-powers, or undead souls.

Lifting the blanket, I wanted to go wash my face. Maybe get some of the negativity away, as a thought struck me. Another part of the dream flashed through my mind.

Sure I could simply walk to the washroom and wash my face.

But what if I were to use my powers?

Could I really do it? No, no way! But it seems so possible!

I created my sandy brush and got to work.

It took a fair bit of experimenting. Whichever instinct had grasped me back there did not help here, and I struggled to gather the currents. My grogginess had already disappeared, and I worked on pure drive for success.

Finally with the right ratio of cold and hot, with it still ending up mostly as a slightly colder mist, I was able to make it move and clean my face. The cold water rejuvenated my body and soul as a dire relief flooded me at the implication of what I’d just achieved.

I had finally fulfilled my life-long dream of becoming a basin cum air blow- as if!

A chuckle escaped my lips.

The smallest of progress was good. At least it means I’m improving. At least I don’t have to constantly brood over my powerlessness.

Satisfied with today’s trick, I walked out of my bed. The mist could clean me up, but it was still far away from making me food and I was starving right now.

- - - * - - -

Dinner was a strange affair.

I had walked into the hall hoping for a late-night quiet dinner, but instead ran into the weird couple from earlier. Weird not in personality, but their apparent invisibility to my senses alerted me.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

They were another reminder of the ghost attack I had faced just last night, and it fuelled my suspicions.

‘Could I trust them?’

The man, to his credit, smiled as he saw me, “Mr. Stefan! How are you now? My fiancée and I were so worried about you.”

His fiancée, who only bothered to put on a slight smile, did not give me as much confidence as the man did.

“Thank you for your worries, but I’m alright. A good night’s sleep and some good food have helped me a lot. What about you, how are you?”

“We are fine, Carl. Can I call you Carl?”

I nodded.

“It gave my poor fiancée a little scare, but I’ve had time to consul her since then.” He said, with a wink, and I instantly felt a little uncomfortable. I didn’t know we were already jumping to that level of conversation.

“Anyway, let’s go get some food, shall we?”

“Sure.” Desperate to change the topic, I quickly agreed.

Passing circles through the tables, and with a plate in hand, we stood by the buffet as a quick brainstorming session on what to pick started.

“I’d refer you try these crab marinades. You can never go wrong with seafood in a boat, that too one belonging to the Vòla barony. These fishermen might not know anything else, but they very well know how to cook a crab.” The man suggested, looking over my shoulder.

I nodded and chose some. They did look appetizing.

I confirmed my plate the earliest, but to appear polite decided to wait a while till they finished as well. The man came with a motive, and he picked food with such confidence. The exact amount, the exact dish, chosen not only in notes of taste, but also aesthetic appeal. His plate looked like one decorated by the finest of diners.

I felt a tinge of embarrassment as he walked to my side and looked at my plate with a small smile.

His fiancée whereas took her time. She was most indecisive and stubborn enough to not take her fiancé’s help.

When we walked to a table, the man picked the seat one after me. Not too close to be uncomfortable, and not too opposite to feel like an interrogation.

“I noticed you don’t seem to have the accent or prefer to use ‘Tolkia’, as some of the commoners here. Are you a tourist?”

“Much like you?” He smiled, as he said it, his words insinuating something. “Yes, we are. You see, Carl. We are essentially nomads. I know that sounds awful, but it’s really not.

“Between us, we have more than enough money to never have to worry about money again, so we enjoy ourselves traveling. I can’t say we’d continue so after the marriage, but one can only hope.” He picked up his knife and fork as he dissected the food with care and finesse.

The table soon fell into clinks and clanks of cutlery as the conversations quietened, and we focused on the food. The seafood demanded all my attention. I savored the tastes of crabs, prawns, and a fish I didn’t know about.

I finished to find the man having finished his food and enjoying a glass of transparent liquid with a tinge of yellow. I wondered if it was champagne, but didn’t focus much on it.

“So how was the food?” He asked, swirling the liquid in its container.

I wiped my lips with a napkin as I replied, “It was pretty good. The seafood was exceptionally better than anything I’ve ever had. I must thank you for your recommendation.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” He said, and sipped.

Feeling like I’ve had enough of conversations for tonight, I moved to leave as the man beside me said, “Mr. Stefan, if you don’t mind me asking. Are you an Artist?”

I froze in panic, a twitch away from summoning my brush as I dissected his question.

What does he know? Who is he? Is he an Artist too? Of course he is! But I had somehow allowed him to get so close to me.

His earlier words and actions suddenly came under a spotlight and I realized this man was an expert in human interactions. His words were carefully chosen to lull me into a false safety. But why reveal himself now?

I looked at his face, and his visage seemed covered in shadows. The poor lighting of the place working tricks with my head. He hid many secrets, none I can unearth.

I realized too late that my panic might’ve set me off. ‘Fuck!’ cursing internally, I tried to control the damage.

“Why do you think so? Mr…”

“Leclerc. Benson Leclerc at your service. As for your question, don’t you think it’s strange? You are way too cautious Carl. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a critic so cautious. What are you afraid of?” He looked into my eyes, and I returned his gaze.

I have to spin my story again.

“Don’t you think you’d be cautious too if you were attacked and scarred for life, while someone dumps you in the middle of a sea without your knowledge? I think my caution is justified.” I said.

“Yes, it is. And I’d be too, if I were in your place. But you have a different kind of caution, my friend. It’s like you are in a race. If you don’t do something, then you might explode at any moment.

“You seem to already have an idea of how you ended up here, and who’s exactly after you. And I could feel the stress you carry is exceptionally huge. I have barely seen you leave your room, and I can only wonder what you’re up to.

“Is there something I could help with?” He said, his eyes so sincere I almost really believed him. Almost.

He seemed so sincere and trustworthy, that I felt my resistance weakening. I had so much bottled up over the last few days. I wanted someone to listen to my story. I wanted to let them know how fucking hard it is.

I have kept myself busy over the days, but every day is like diving in an ocean full of sharks. I don’t know how long I can get out safely. How long before something takes a bite of me.

My throat dried and my eyes watered a little. But I held it in. I held it fucking in. I still can’t trust him.

I can’t trust him. I can’t trust him. I can’t trust him.

I repeated it like a chant as I thought over my options. I can’t trust him, but…. I could use some help.

I still remember the supernatural incident I had last night. What are the chances of a single boat having two Artists and it also involves ghosts? What if he’s the one behind it?

I needed information. Something I lacked dearly. If he plans to make use of me, then maybe I could do the same.

My gaze sharpened as I met his gaze. I could feel his fiancée’s gaze settle on my neck, and I suppressed a shiver.

“I can use some help.” I said, and the man smiled. Sincerely and admirably.

‘I can’t trust him.’

- - - - * - - - -