“Nah, I’m from Blasted Hills. I’m comin’ home after sightseeing around the world. This is my bodyguard, and butler, Sebastian,” Elenore motioned toward Keith.

What’s going on here? Caster stood straight up inside the rucksack. Didn’t they have this conversation just a little while ago?

“It’s getting hot out there. Why don’t you and your butler come inside for a spell? I got a warm soup over the fire,” Helga suggested.

Did she say that before, or is it new? Caster tried remembering his ‘dream’ word-by-word.

With his thoughts racing, he could barely keep up with the pace of the conversation. The space between Elenore and the old woman’s replies to each other seemed to shorten as if time itself were speeding them through the same old steps.

I have to warn one of them. Caster thought as Elenore laid her bag on the ground once again, taking off her armor just before joining Helga at the table.

But I can’t get out of the rucksack. This old woman has to be using some kind of spell on us. Like a time loop. I know, I’ll wait until she takes Elenore to her room. Then I’ll tell her that something’s going on.

Caster decided on his plan and spent the next several minutes closely looking over every inch of the room. Nothing seemed ‘off’ though. There were no odd devices or old tomes or dimly lit runes or sigils. The cabin itself seemed normal.

The door to the shack burst open, and Keith stepped through. He stood there, silent as usual. After closing the door behind him, he made his way past Elenore and the armor rack, then stood in the corner.

Oh, come on Keith! You had to have seen something outside. Or… maybe he did, but he’s keeping quiet? Give me a sign! Caster kept his eyes on Keith’s frame. He only continued to stand there, back to the corner, arms folded. Wait… Caster narrowed his eyes and looked closer at Keith’s hands.

Keith’s fingers on the outside of his arm weren’t balled up into fists or naturally resting on his arms like anyone normally would have them. Instead, his left hand was twisted and facing downward, with his thumb pointing to the ground.

Aha! Caster nodded his head. He was trying to warn us before that something was wrong. But what is it? If this old lady is casting the spell, couldn’t he just challenge her right now? Caster turned to look at the ‘woman’ named Helga again. She was taking the Selinian Crystal out of her pocket once more. Maybe she’s not a person at all. Is she some kind of monster? Caster gave himself goosebumps thinking about it.

How do I let Keith know that I know that he knows? I know! Caster watched carefully as Helga continued her conversation with Elenore. She should look away right about… now! Caster thrust his mitten hand out of the rucksack, sliding it between the lip and the body of the bag.

Keith’s head snapped ever so slightly in the rucksack’s direction. Even from behind the darkness of Keith’s veil, Caster could tell that the suspicious assassin had spotted him. In response, Keith gave a single, shallow nod. Then remained standing against the wall.

Okay. What now? If he doesn’t do something I shouldn’t either. I think he wants me to warn Elenore when we go to the rooms. Both Elenore and Helga stood, right on time.

Elenore grabbed her rucksack once more then carried it and the anxious Caster into the bedroom, placing it onto the nightstand next to the bed before Helga shut the door. Once again, Elenore locked the door, and as Helga’s voice faded, Caster flipped the lip of the bag over.

“Elenore! Something weird is going on! Keith gave me a thumbs’ down when he came back inside the house. I think this Helga is a witch or something!” Caster whispered as fast as he could.

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“What in tarnation are you talking about Caster?” She asked, getting under her covers already.

“Just trust me. I think for the last hour that we’ve been inside some kind of time loop.”

“Ohh…” Elenore groaned. Putting her hand over her face. “I hate when those magic caster types use their mumbo mind powers and start making things all confusing. Those cowards oughtta grow some hair and fight me without all their cheap tricks, no offense.”

“None taken,” Caster mumbled.

“To be honest, I’m probably gonna forget if we do go through this again,” Elenore yawned. “Anyway, can you remind me when I wake up? I’ve heard that if all three of us know we’re in an illusion, that can sometimes break the spell itself and let us out,” Elenore’s eyes began to droop. “Oh, I’ll write a note to myself, so when I pick up the crystal later I’ll see it in my inventory and…” Elenore passed out just as she removed a short quill and a piece of parchment from her rucksack.

Caster had to think of something fast. He jumped out of the rucksack and grabbed hold of the quill, leaving the parchment on the table. He held it with both hands – the tool was like a sword in his hands and awkward to use properly. As fast as he could, he managed to write down the words ‘this is time loop’ to form the least legible sentence he had ever written.

Good enough! Caster tossed the quill aside and grabbed the parchment.

The overwhelming and bizarre sounds of space warping around him filled the air once again. His time was up. He lunged to shove the parchment back into the rucksack, and as he did he fell with it, into the darkness and the overwhelming sound of the illusion snapping him back through time.

----------------------------------------

Caster opened his eyes. A brilliant light was shining down on him from the crack of space under the lip of the rucksack. After a moment, he shot up and peeked out the gap. Immediately Caster was greeted by the full power of the sun’s light and the rays of its heat.

Alright, this is just getting annoying.

Level Up! Occult Increased +1!

The heat was overwhelming now, and what little of the outside world he could see was mired in a strange mist of alternating colors that Elenore and Keith didn’t even seem to notice, and if they did, they didn’t mention it. It was like the sheer heat of the sun was burning the earth itself, making the grass sizzle and smoke.

“Hello loves!”

Ahh, shit. Here we go again. Caster sighed. He waited for Elenore’s reply, but it never came. She just kept walking, her words mixing into and merging with Helga’s speech.

What the… Are they talking over each other? Caster peeked out the rucksack again as they went inside. Almost immediately Elenore took off her armor. This time, Keith didn’t even go outside. He took his place in the corner. Even from under his shady armor, Caster could see the assassin’s chest rising and falling. Is he having trouble breathing? It is pretty hot outside.

Caster looked back to the table as Elenore sat, reaching for the crystal. She paused for the slightest second. Did she see it?

“Oh, excuse me. I forgot something in my armor.” Elenore stood from the table. Keith’s head perked up. Helga seemed confused. She saw it.

“Did your husband have an ax like this one?” She reached for the hilt of her blade as its sheath remained hanging on the armor rack. Pulling out the crude steel, she held the blade in the air, displaying it to Helga as she strode closer to the sitting old woman.

“I believe so. He-” Helga gasped in horror as Elenore lunged, plunging the blade into her chest.

Helga fell backward with a wheeze, and Elenore followed her body to the ground, piercing through and pinning her corpse to the wood floor.

Helga gripped the sides of the ax, her mouth wide open but no words came out. Her hands slid upward, the edges of the blade slicing through her palms.

But no blood came out. Instead, what her hands left behind was a disgusting form of slime. Like a slug would, the ooze formed a thin trail behind her hands as they continued reaching upward.

Elenore grunted and pulled back in disgust. Yanking her ax out of the wood, she jumped away from their fallen enemy. Placing both her hands on the hilt of her blade, she slammed the end of her blade into the wood once more. A thin circle of white light spread out in a single burst outward in all directions.

The light made the slime on her ax fly off, and the body of Helga lifted off the ground and flew through the air, crashing into the wall.

The old woman’s body burst into a thick, liquid gel. What remained made it impossible to tell that it was once an old woman.

But what remained wasn’t blood and guts, but a shiny, soapy mixture that glowed with a reflective white, teal, and purple shimmer.

From the pool, shapes began to emerge. They were whole circles, each one floating upward into the air.

Are those… bubbles?

Right after Caster wondered to himself, the slime began to speak.