Peak of Autumn, Week 5, Day 2

I flicked my eyes from the green system notice to the unassuming bar of soap. The mimic, I frantically thought to myself.

Tier 1. Level 4.

I took a slow breath. The soap never moved.

I raised my hand, keeping my eyes focused on the beige bar of soap.

I focused my mind, building the blueprint of a knife before-

“[Shadow Conjuration+Shadow Manipulation]”

Darkness congealed next to my head, and two black knives appeared fully formed. With a pulse of my Will, I directed them forward. As if it could feel my mana, the bar of soap shook and transformed into a black mass of eldritch horror —if eldritch horrors were slightly larger than a bar of soap. It released a high-pitched screech that sounded like a squeak, and I launched the knives at the mimic.

I felt the icy pull on my mind as the two knives dove towards the tentacled beast —before one got stuck in the wood and the other sailed straight past the monster. The monster in question had not remained still, lunging from the table towards me. It couldn’t close the gap, though, and fell down the side of the tub.

I jumped up, calling the knives back to me —the one stuck in the wood tipped over the table as it dislodged, sending other soaps and towels sprawling across the floor, and the other knife was zipping through the air. Instead of relying on my poor aim again, I plucked one of the knives out of the air and bent over the side of the tub. I held my breath as I listened for any scuttling, and I scanned the floor —a brush had fallen, along with the other two bars of soap, and there were several towels half stuck under the tub. The five-footed tub.

In recognition, I swiped down to the claw foot sticking out the middle of the tub —there were only supposed to be four feet. But as I did so, the monster transformed back into its tentacled form before disappearing under the tub. I tried to swipe further under the tub, but my reach was too short to go fully underneath. Instead, I turned to the other side, where the monster had already emerged and was heading for the edge of the tent.

I pulsed my Will, and both knives lurched away from me. They shot towards the mimic —one aimed for the center of the monster’s body, the other aimed for a tentacle. One went too far and hit the stone floor, slamming down and sliding up to the tent wall. The other nicked one of the tentacles but otherwise missed the majority of the mimic. Within a breath, the monster went from a squeak to a squeal of pain before black blood began to seep out onto the stone floor.

Rather than continue onward and escape, the monster turned back and began rushing back to me. I jerked back, splashing the water in the tub and barely catching myself on the ledge. However, I had been forced forward to correct myself. My body was halfway over the edge of the tub, and I must have startled the mimic because it froze two feet from my face.

For a third time, I pulsed my Will, summoning the blades. This time, they both hit their mark —the backside of the mimic. One knife sliced straight through a tentacle, and the other went straight through the monster's body. I called to the blades to continue—and the mimic exploded into a mess of gore. Black blood sprayed on my face and across the floor, and I was already leaning back into the water and scrubbing my face. Once I was sure the monster's blood was gone, I began running my eyes across the room.

My breathing was coming quick and shallow, and I ignored the System notifications that were trying to pull my attention. Quickly, I began inspecting everything else in the now disheveled tent—beginning with the other bars of soap.

How did it even get in here? It was through sheer force of will that I wasn’t screaming and crying —but two monsters in a single day was enough to exhaust whatever feeling of dread I had and instead left me feeling paranoid.

Breathe. I caught myself near hyperventilating and took a deep, purposeful breath. Freaking out is bad. It’ll do no good. Just. Breathe.

Mostly reassured there were no more monsters waiting to jump out of the shadows —or off the shelves, I sank into the tub. Chaos was around me, so I closed my eyes. It didn’t set the world right, but it made the chaos easier to ignore, and within moments, my heart was no longer attempting to beat out of my chest.

I began working my hands through my hair, washing the stress away halfway successfully. The warmth of the water mixed with the relaxed feeling that came with managing my wild curls left me with a sense of balance. The chaotic fight reminded me that I wasn’t powerless, not truly. If I were without any power, I would have lost completely and utterly. But I didn’t. A sliver of pride worked its way into my head as I glanced at the monster's corpse.

Oh. The book didn’t mention that.

A rainbow miasma was encasing the remains. Anywhere on the body that the miasma touched fluttered away into shimmering dust. I kept my eye on the quick dissolving body of the mimic for the two minutes it took to dissolve. Even the monster blood that had previously lined the outside of the tub had disappeared in a shimmer. Once there were no more remains, I caught sight of a small blue marble lying still on the stone floor.

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The book definitely didn’t mention that, either.

I paused, waiting to see if the voice would chip in. If Eunora would give me something useful. When the unwelcome conversationalist didn’t chime in, I felt relief overwhelm me, and I went back to washing my hair.

I spent another thirty minutes simply soaking and thinking. And as I dried off and began braiding my hair, I wondered what I should do.

That caused me to reflect on my fight as a whole. Surely, I should have cried for help. That’s what someone with a [Common] or [Uncommon] Class would do. They wouldn’t have even thought to fight a monster, especially if they didn’t have a combat-focused Class.

Finishing my braids, I looked in the mirror. I expected to see an exhausted face, sunken eyes, and a weary look. Instead, I looked fresh. There were no bags under my eyes, no sign of the terror I’d been through today. None of the horrifying events left a mark. And that led to my decision.

If I told them what happened, there would be questions. Questions that the thought of sent me into knots. No. That wasn’t going to happen.

I pulled out the clothes from the pre-packed bag and slid into loose-fitting nightclothes and the accompanying loafers. It seems the maids knew I wouldn’t be changing privately, so they gave me shoes. I said a silent thanks and got to work righting the tent.

I straightened the table I had turned over and refolded the leftover towels. I stacked the bars of soap back where they were and drained the tub. I used a washcloth to mop up some of the excess water that had splashed in the fight. It was as I was cleaning up that I realized I hadn’t been maintaining the knives, and they had long since returned to the shadows. Again, I felt the pull of a System notification. I pushed it aside and finished up. I folded my outfit from the day and placed it in my bag. Giving the tent one last look over, I went to the table one of the knives had gotten stuck in and leaned down to look at the notch left behind. With a sigh, I simply put the towels over it. There was nothing else I could do about it.

Then I picked up the last piece of debris from my fight —the blue marble that had been left behind. It was a cobalt blue with flecks of white in its center, forming the loose image of a flower. Whatever this was, it was clearly magic. I tucked it into my bag and went to open the tent flap. It was only then that I furrowed my brow.

Shouldn’t she have been able to hear me?

I stood where I was and clapped my hands together —once, twice, three times. And then I waited. And waited. A minute passed, and Dame Arella hadn’t so much as called out.

I took a breath.

“Dame Arella?” My voice was soft but not a whisper. Immediately, the tent flap shook.

“Yes, my lady?”

I paused before pulling open the flap so I could see her face, “Could you hear me the whole time?”

The woman shook her head, an odd look in her eye, “Wouldn’t be very private if I could. It’s enchanted only to let out intentional noise.”

I blinked. Then, a sharp laugh I couldn’t hold back escaped me.

Of course it is, I thought sarcastically to myself. Because why wouldn’t it be based on intentions?

The magic of this world was foreign, its novelty lost on me. And so I left the tent, a mockery of a smile on my face. I wasn’t feeling stable, but neither was I feeling madness creeping into my mind. And so, I followed the floating magelights back to the carriage, leaving Dame Arella to trail behind me. It was different now. The forest’s dark edges were encroaching on me, pressing down on the fear that I had been attempting to ignore after the blight from earlier. But evermore, I was being shown that the path to Fellan was dangerous. Had I been the true Eunora, that mimic could have killed me. If I hadn’t attacked first, it still could have.

It didn’t, though. It didn’t even touch me. I grit my teeth, my fists clenched around my bag. I am not strong, but I am not without power.

“My Lady…” Dame Arella called to me, and I paused my stomping to look back at her, “Is everything all right?”

The swirl of anxiety and insecurity tried to rear its head, but I was still manic from the fight. Adrenaline still pumping in my veins, fueling my more volatile emotions. The fear of society could not reach me, not then. So, when I spoke, it was with more confidence than I had before. With more grit and fury and not fear.

“No.” I turned back to face the camp. We were still a dozen feet away from where the magelights ended and the light of the campfire began. I didn’t look back as I asked, “Did you mean what you said before? About helping once we arrive to Fellan?”

I stood still as Dame Arella remained silent. It took her a beat to respond.

“I did. I do.” Her voice had an edge to it, as if daring me to challenge her.

I didn’t want to challenge her. I wanted to believe her. So I released some of my anger –some of my fear, and I nodded.

“Okay.”

And then I was off, headed straight for the carriage –running from my words as much as my thoughts. This world was cruel, but the Knights of the Dusk had not been cruel. They were abysmal at explaining things, at interacting with someone raw and afraid and angry, but they had offered what even the Countess had not. A promise in good faith. A hand outstretched. It made my heart ache for Eunora, for who she could have been and was still not.

I climbed into the carriage, sliding out of my shoes and arranging all of the knitted animals I had in the main compartment.

I placed the bunny, Noir, by my head. Haze, the panda, went into the corner where my back would go. Shade, the lizard, was in my hands. It was as I crawled into the makeshift bed that I filled my being with the ice of mana.

[Shadow Animation]

“Soothe me, please.”

All three knitted beasts came to life. Haze wrapped himself around one of my arms, Noir the other, and Shade curled into my neck. Before I let my eyes close, I let my attention fall to the System notifications that were begging for my acknowledgment.