[WAKE UP! WAKE UP! YOU LAZY LAZY LAZY…. BUM!]

[HOW LONG WILL WE SLEEP!]

[I AM BORED! SO BORED!]

'Ah, who the fuck…'

I woke up to a childish voice rampaging in my head.

‘Where am I?—Oh yeah…’

It took me a moment to remember where I was – in a makeshift camp, surrounded by strangers who might or might not kill me.

'Ack!'

My body ached all over. It felt like I'd been run over by a truck, then thrown off a cliff for good measure.

Umm?

It also felt particularly warm over my right eye socket. When I gingerly touched it, I could feel the texture of some kind of medicinal paste.

Someone had treated my wound while I slept.

I didn't know who did that, but I felt grateful to them. Maybe this ragtag group wasn't so bad after all. Or maybe they just didn't want me dying on them.

Either way, I would take what I could get.

'Ouch! Ouch!'

Despite the treatment, the pain was still intense. Not just that, my whole body was sore to the core. I could barely lift a finger without wincing.

"Stay where you are. Don't try to move unnecessarily."

‘Shit…! That scared me!’

The gruff voice startled me.

I hadn't noticed anyone else in the tent. Some survival instincts I had.

Turning my head slightly, I saw him - the man from last night, Kargil, if I remembered correctly.

How the hell did I miss him?

The guy was built like a bear, all broad shoulders and thick arms.

He sat cross-legged on the ground, his massive frame somehow managing to look compact in the confines of the tent.

Shink! Shink!

The sound of metal scraping against stone filled the air. Kargil was sharpening his axe on a whetstone.

The scene looked like something out of one of those survival shows I used to watch back home.

‘Back home… huh.’

The thought brought a pang of homesickness that I quickly squashed down.

"Did you sleep well?"

He asked, not looking up from his task.

Shink! Shink!

‘How am I supposed to respond?’

I was mute.

I couldn't verbally say - “Yeah, it was great. But your quilt reeks of ass.”

He knew that too.

I nodded, hoping he’d catch the movement in his peripheral vision.

He didn't glance up.

Probably didn't care.

That suited his character - he seemed the type to avoid unnecessary chatter.

But someone else had different ideas:

[WHY IS HE IGNORING US! HE SHOULDN'T IGNORE US! DON'T IGNORE US BEARD MAN!!]

‘...So noisy.’

I winced at the noise Spooky was making.

This motherfucker was lively again.

‘Seems like you have recovered from your depression.’

[BEARD MAN CAN'T IGNORE! BEARD MAN SHOULDN'T IGNORE!]

I couldn't fathom what exactly offended Spooky so deeply.

‘He was ignoring me…. Not you.’

[HE DID! HE DID!]

‘Stop the nonsense! How can he ignore something he can’t even see?!’

[Can’t see? Can’t see?!]

[Why why why?!]

‘Because you are a ghost… living in my mind. Not a physical entity.’

[A ghost…? Ghoooost?!]

[Fun! Fun!]

[WHAT’S A GHOOOOOSt!??]

‘Figure it out yourself. Should be entertaining for you.’

I had enough of this nonsense.

I readjusted the makeshift earplugs that had loosened during sleep. I wasn't about to endure this racket all day.

‘Some relief at last.’

The voice faded to a dull murmur, still there but manageable. Like having a TV on in another room.

For now…

I can't let anyone suspect that I hear voices in my head, not until I was sure it wasn't as unusual as I first thought.

Speaking of which…

'...Why doesn't he plug his ears too?'

I side-eyed Kargil. If Spooky makes so much noise and chatters nonstop, shouldn't the burly dude also be annoyed by the constant chatter of a being/ghost like Spooky attached to him too?

Mn….

‘Why is that? Why doesn't he do that?’’

Knowingly or unknowingly, I had convinced myself that the chief of the ragtag camp - Kargil - also had something like Spooky attached to him. It was the only thing that could justify his self-muttering.

'Maybe he just got used to the chatter.'

That could explain it.

Or maybe… his ghost just didn't chatter as much. Lucky bastard.

Unable to reach any conclusions, I shook off the thoughts. More pressing matters demanded my attention, like quenching my thirst.

“Mnnh…”

Kargil caught me staring. Shit. His eyes were sharp, piercing even. Like he could see right through me. It made me squirm, feeling exposed under a gaze.

“What is it?”

His lips moved, but the earplugs reduced his words to a muffled rumble.

I focused on his mouth, trying to decipher the words. Lip reading wasn't my strong suit, but I caught what looked like “What” and “It”. He must be asking what I wanted.

I pointed at my throat, hoping he’d understand. I was thirsty. My mouth felt like a desert, and my tongue seemed to have grown fur overnight.

"You must be thirsty."

Kargil said something, then nodded, seemingly getting the message. He reached for something beside him.

Twak-!

He threw a water sack at me. It landed on my quilt. Actually, it wasn't a quilt. Since it was so dark in the tent when I went to sleep, I couldn't quite see it, but now that there was a lantern over the gruff man, I could see that it was the hide of some monster.

It was green in colour, with some yellow patches in between.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Rustle! Rustle!

The hide was surprisingly soft, almost velvety in touch. It smelled faintly of smoke and something else I couldn't quite place.

Gulp…gulp…

The water tasted like old pennies, but I wasn't complaining. It was wet, and that's all that mattered.

Phew….

As I drank, I gestured towards the tent flap, hoping Kargil would understand.

Plainly put…

I wanted to go out.

I wanted to see and confirm if the sun has risen yet.

Though, I didn't feel much hope.

There wasn’t a hint of light in the roof, which typically would have entered a makeshift tent like this.

This made me question if there was even a sun. For all I knew, this world was stuck in eternal twilight, illuminated only by those freaky moons.

Of course, I couldn't ask shit, so I waited for the gruff man's reply.

Kargil understood my intent intent to leave, and answered with a firm:

"No."

That needed no lip reading.

'Message received.'

I nodded my head to him, to show that I wasn't rebellious. What if he throws me out if I acted rebellious? What would I do then? I wouldn't want to incur his wrath, nor do I want to offend him. Being thrown back into that frozen wasteland was not on my to-do list.

I succumbed back to the comfort of the quilt.

'Warm!'

Shink! Shink!

The gruff man continued to sharpen his axe, and I at times looked at him in intrigue. Though he never gave me a second glance, seemingly invested in sharpening. The rhythmic sound was almost hypnotic.

…

..

.

“Hoooh…”

He released a heavy breadth.

'Task complete, it seems.'

Indeed.

He glanced my way without speaking, then strode from the tent.

‘Definitely not the chatty type.’

Which I preferred.

…

..

.

"Well, look who’s finally awake!"

Not five minutes after the gruff man's departure, someone else entered, carrying a steaming bowl.

It was the kind woman from yesterday, wearing her characteristic smile.

"You are quite resilient for a little one, aren't you?"

She questioned something… or it seemed like it. But of course, the earplugs muffled her words.

Noticing my stuffed ears, she gestured for me to remove them, her expression motherly.

‘She probably has something to say to me.’

She likely assumed I wore them against the cold.

If only she knew.

‘I can’t keep my ears plugged forever…’

I needed to gradually acclimate to the noise.

Reluctantly, I removed the earplugs.

Immediately, I heard both her concerned voice and Spooky’s incomprehensible muttering, the latter I chose to ignore.

“How are you feeling?”

‘Good. I guess.’

“...”

My silence puzzled her.

“What happened? Why don't you an—”

Yeah. Right. Now you remember.

I gave her a judging look.

‘How unfortunate.’

My fantasies of a kind-benevolent mommy was destroyed instantly.

Such was fate.

Jokes aside. She seemed genuinely concerned about her slip-up.

“Ah, um, are you feeling… okay?”

She spoke cautiously. Maybe trying her best to not hurt my feelings.

I gave her a nod.

Yeah, it hurt.

But it was manageable.

And I refused to burden someone so kind-hearted.

“That means I did a good job applying the medicine.”

Pride coloured her voice.

‘So it was her.’

She had applied the healing paste.

My gratitude for her deepened.

“Don't hesitate to ask me for anything, okay?”

Her tone remained warm and welcoming. As pleasant as the sun I longed for.

“Here, have some stew. You must be feeling weak.”

I accepted the bowl politely and began to eat.

“Hoho, others weren’t praising you for no reason, you really know how to eat.”

She laughed, showering me with compliments.

‘Her laugh is surprisingly masculine…’

I thought while slurping. Weirdly enough, it felt like she was imitating someone. I didn't know who.

Schlrrp….

"I wasn't exaggerating just now. I have rarely seen a child your age with such resilience.”

Her maternal energy was overwhelming - almost excessive. She praised me as though I were an infant.

As a grown adult, such treatment should have been mortifying, but fuck yeah, I couldn't bring myself to complain.

‘Reason be damned.’

Still, even I eventually noticed something off about her attitude.

Her tone reminded me of that syrupy voice people use with newborns.

Gugu gaga?

‘Am I overthinking this?’

Perhaps…

There was no way, right?

‘Yeah, impossible.’

She was just pampering me. Pitying me for suffering so much. There was nothing more to it.

I wished that were true.

Gulp…

It wasn't.

She genuinely thought I was a kindergartener.

"You must be… um… What, five years old? Maybe six at most? Right?"

‘Huh?’

I stared at her, baffled.

'What the?! Is she… blind?’

“...”

“...”

‘That doesn't seem to be the case though?’

Yeah, I was small for sure. But not five-year-old small. Definitely not. I could pass for a preteen at minimum.

“What's wrong?”

She noticed my bewilderment. Her head tilted, mirroring mine.

"Did I say something strange?"

Now it was her turn to be confused.

"..."

"..."

Silence stretched.

The only sound between us was the slurping of the stew I was eating. Same as yesterday’s, with even less meat. But it was fine. I had no objections. Them feeding me was enough. Beggars and choosers, remember?

"Oh!”

She blinked, realizing something obvious.

“How could I forget? You aren't like us.”

She murmured, speaking more to herself than me.

“Not long ago, you possessed a Stained Soul Mirror…. though even then, your body isn’t—”

She caught herself mid-sentence.

Her eyes widened slightly as she registered her words.

“Ah… I shouldn't have mentioned that.”

She looked genuinely apologetic.

‘I see.’

She felt guilty.

And honestly? I understood.

Someone loses an eye, you don't bring it up. Basic human decency and all that. Especially when you think that someone is a traumatized child.

But hell if I wasn't curious now.

‘She was onto something…’

My gut screamed at me. You know that feeling when someone’s about to spill some serious tea but catches themselves? Yeah, that.

“Ah… um…”

She fidgeted nervously with her sleeve.

“Would you like more stew?”

‘Ah, the classic deflection technique.’

But who was I to refuse free food?

I nodded.

“Wait here, I will get it for you!”

She hurried out to fetch another bowl. And moments later, returned with another bowl.

It wasn't steaming but cold.

She handed that to me with an apologetic expression, though I took it gratefully.

I was about to slurp, when her unexpected exclamation caught me!

“Oh my! How forgetful of me? I have yet to introduce myself, don't I?”

She hit her forehead in an exaggerated manner that made me want to roll my eyes.

Was she always this theatrical?

“My name…”

My ears perked up despite myself.

“...is Zora. And I turned sixteen last week!”

I stared at her, the stew freezing halfway to my mouth.

‘Bullshit.’

The woman before me - with her mature features and well developed figure - claimed to be sixteen?

Either this world had different aging rules, or someone needed to teach her to lie better.

Even the ever-chattering Spooky went quiet for a moment.

Okay. Maybe I was just imagining it.

[LYING…? LYING…? YOUNG LADY IS… LYING?]

It just sounded unsure.

‘Young lady?’

I mean, sure, some people age differently. But this was pushing it. She looked old enough to be my… Well, maybe not mother, but definitely an older sister.

Late twenties at minimum.

“Is something wrong?”

Her concerned tone snapped me from my thoughts. She tilted her head, studying my reaction with those motherly eyes that definitely didn't belong on a sixteen-year old.

‘Everything about this place is fucked up anyway.’

What was one more impossibility? I’d woken up in a kid’s body, had a ghost roommate in my mind, and was stranded on a planet with twelve moons. A woman with screwed-up aging seemed pretty tame in comparison.

[NO NO! SHE NOT LYING! AGING DIFFERENT AFTER… AFTER… SOMETHING! I FORGET!]

‘You forget a lot of convenient things, don't you?’

Still, something about her earlier slip up nagged at me.

“Why aren't you eating? You need to finish it all. Food can’t be wasted. Okay?”

For once, she sounded strict.

I nodded.

Right. Food first. Everything else later. If anything, they were tomorrow’s problem.

Even if “tomorrow” in this sunless world was just a figure of speech.