I awoke with something pressing into my thigh. I pushed myself to sit up. It was all very disorienting. I had forgotten where I was, and where I had been, completely. And I was on a crusty mattress, under a scratchy blanket.

There were wood paneled walls, like a friend from my Junior High used to have in their basement. But the air tasted like mildew and ash, and there wasn’t a jar full of spider’s corpses on the bookshelf.

The thing pressing into me was Eloise’s heel.

She was starfished out, and a whole tangled mass of limbs, hair, paisley sheets.

“Goodmorning,” Carolina said. She was sat in a wooden chair against the wall. She clutched a turquoise mug. Steam swirled up from it, and in part veiled her smiling face.

“Morning,” I said. My body didn’t feel the same as it did in my reality. I seemed to not be able to feel as much. For example, when I woke up sometimes it hurt, from standing all day, or I would have a headache, or something. That didn’t seem to happen here. Not in the same way. For a second, I almost wanted it to happen, because I was beginning to feel an alarming amount of unreal.

On the one other mattress which populated the cool floor, Mar slept on his side away from us.

Carolina spoke, “There’s food upstairs. Jeffery has jam and things.”

Jeffery was the owner and operator of the Crematorium. I recalled hunched posture, thick spectacles, and the smell of peppermint. I don’t think he even made eye contact with me. I think he thought nothing of me, and I thought that was completely fair. So I thought nothing of him too.

“Okay,” I answered. I got up and stretched. Oh, and last night, Carolina gifted me things.

It was a whole event. She’d knelt next to the mattress, and opened her picnic basket. There was folded fabric, presumably clothing, a couple rows of small spools of every coloured thread. There were also some glass vials. She plucked two of the smaller ones.

There was probably about a tablespoon of fluid in each. One had a shimmering gold fluid, the other contained a more viscous silvery type. She explained the golden vial would heal, topically, or ingested, and the silvery one would replenish my mana for ingestion only. If you put it on your skin it wouldn’t do anything other than stain your skin.

She told me to only use them in emergencies. She made me promise.

She’d also given me a robe. She said it was one of her old ones, and that it would make me fit in more with the world. I adjusted it. It was cream coloured with pink trim. It was comfortable. I didn’t mind it at all. At least if I died here, I thought, my ghost wouldn’t be in a gas station uniform forever. Not that that was a bad thing, you know, but if I had the option I would choose not to.

“Hey, Carolina,”

“Yes?”

“Thanks again, for helping me.”

“Of course.”

Jeffery lived above the Crematorium, and it was accessible from the inside. If you could do stairs. If not, it was sort of rude. I walked up the wooden stairs, and they creaked under my feet. I found the kitchen. There weren’t any hallways. It was just a cluster of rooms. I opened the first door, and it was a dark study with an oak desk. It opened into a dank storage closet, which had both a bedroom, and a bathroom off it. I used the restroom. I looked through everything, and didn’t feel bad about it. I got all cleaned up. It didn’t feel necessary, but it made me feel better. The habit of it was fulfilled. It dampened the sick feeling brewing in my gut.

Through the bedroom was the kitchen. It overlooked the street, and the partly cloudy skies.

I took a piece of toast with some strawberry jam, and stood by the window. There seemed to be some kind of preparations occuring outside.

There were people in robes like mine on ladders, hanging banners, and arranging wreaths and other shapes of amassed flowers and greenery along the road. Everyone seemed quite pleasant, and leisurely in their work. You could tell because they were smiling, and laughing, and weren’t rushing.

“It’s the Flower Festival.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

I looked at the window pane. I could see Mar’s reflection. It annoyed me that he scared me like that. I wasn’t that lost in thought, I was just in a state of languid observation. That was all. I looked over my shoulder. “That’s cool.”

“Not really. They execute all the death sentences today. It’s ‘Spring Cleaning.’ Then there’s a parade, a party, then fireworks. It’s supposed to symbolize societal cleansing, and rebirth.”

“Oh. Is that what would happen to you, since you’re a thief and all.”

“It would happen to you too, if they found you out. Do you want some tea?”

“Sure.” I watched him move around the kitchen, opening cabinets, and using utensils. It felt sort of strange watching him do stuff like that. “Hey Mar?”

“Yes?”

“Do you know how I could get home?” I figured I could at least ask. And he was probably the best one to ask. He seemed the most eye-level, if that makes sense.

“It would be basically impossible. And even if you did cross back over, the Patrol will be alerted and no one will be there to help you.”

“That’s okay. I’ve got fire magic now.” To illustrate my point I moved the staff in a circle. It made a ring of flame that just sort of stayed in the air. I stared into it. That’s probably my equivalent of Indigo’s light balls. I could probably get it to be like a lantern. The ring shape is probably unnecessary. I let the center fill in. It was like my own little sun.

“It doesn't work like that,” Mar said, “Your reality can’t sustain something like that.”

I let the fire burn until it started to feel weakening, then I snuffed it out. “So I’m trapped here.”

“More or less… If it makes you feel better, we all are.”

“How do you know that’s what would happen? Have you ever tried, or is that just what Indigo said?” I sort of felt myself getting angry again. I tried to swallow it with another bite of toast.

“That’s what Indigo has said.”

“When do the Executions happen?”

“In a few hours.”

“Should we try to save them all?” I asked.

“Might be fun,” Mar grinned. “Since we're not the good guys anymore.”

I thought about that. I couldn't decide if I cared or not that those prisoners died, in actuality, since this wasn’t mine– but I don’t think I could stand being here anymore. I had to do anything. That was anything. Mar passed me my cup of tea.

It was too hot to drink. I stirred in some sugar. It was some kind of black tea. It didn’t feel important enough to ask. I just decided to not expect anything about it though. Like I didn’t want to be expecting Chai and for it to turn out English Breakfast. I would cough and sputter and die. Whatever it was, it needed sugar.

There came creaking up the stairs. Creak, creak, creak. I looked at the entrance and Carolina appeared. She said, “Need more hot water, don’t mind me,” she said.

I asked her, “Hey, Carolina, do you want to help us save prisoners?”

“Maybe in a little while.” She turned to leave. “Eloise doesn’t like to wake up alone.” She left.

Mar said, “Let’s go for a walk. We can get the lay of the land.”

“So to stop an Execution, the best way is to execute the Executioner. Right?”

“Probably the easiest thing to do.”

“Would that be up to me?” I asked. I didn’t know how I felt about that.

“We have to find the executioner first. Where she is probably determines that. I don’t know much about her. What I do know is from when Indigo was assigned as her protection, once or twice.”

“Yesterday, him saving me, and you all leaving like that… That really was a big deal wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Where is Indigo?”

Mar shrugged, “What I know is that she has to be close by. She doesn’t wear a black hood and stand up on the platform with the prisioners. She doesn’t do that. She has some kind of electric magic at her disposal. It makes things quick. The smell is bad though.”

“People watch that?”

“They do, I have.”

“You said it symbolizes a cleanse, like those people are rotted entirely, and it’s not just one part of themselves that is. And like the worst of them means also destroying the best, or even just the potential of best.”

“It’s easier that way. It keeps peace. Or, at least, that’s what Indigo says Raina says.”

“Who is Raina?” I felt sort of like a child asking all these questions. It made me feel better that it would be the same way if it were the other way around. I bet he’d be all questions. Like, Halloween would totally blow his mind.

“The Mad Queen.”

“So, we’ll save them all. Maybe we don’t have to kill the Executioner. Maybe it’s better if we don’t.”

“Maybe, but it’s a good back up plan.”

“We just need to make a little chaos, like a distraction.”

“How would you want to do that?”

“You said there were fireworks?”

He grinned, “I did.”