"Hello!" said the unexpected little visitor.

The girl's voice sounded perfectly normal. Exactly that kind of pitch, that softness with a slight chime - the intonations you'd expect from a child. And for some reason, that scared me even more than if the nocturnal visitor had spoken in some sort of ghostly tone. I wanted to respond to the greeting, but I realized that if I said anything right now, I'd lose my composure. Therefore, with a strained smile, I casually waved my left hand, while my right hand slid toward the hilt of my dagger.

"The rain will pass by us," the girl remarked, looking up with what seemed like a touch of sadness.

Again, I said nothing in response; I just nodded. My thoughts raced, considering the possibilities.

Who is she?

A little human girl who accidentally wandered into the Wicked Woods? Such an assumption is absurd! First of all, humans try not to settle near this ill-reputed forest. And even if there are villages near it, they are certainly located not on the slopes of the Great Ridge but at least thirty, if not fifty, kilometers westward. Secondly, she was dressed too neatly and cleanly for a stroll in the woods. Thirdly, her appearance did not resemble that of village or country children. She seemed more like the daughter of some influential noble, out for a walk in a palace garden. There were also further points...

Too many inconsistencies! To be precise, if I'd encountered such a child on the streets of Sun City, I wouldn't be surprised. But here?! In such a place? Moreover, how did she sneak up on me? I didn't hear a thing, and the ground all around is littered with dry twigs that crunch underfoot no matter where you step. Plus, the shadows didn't react to her at all.

There are so many questions, yet each potential answer is more frightening than the last. Or rather, not answers but just assumptions.

"Can I warm myself?" She pointed to the fire with her wreath, seemingly unfazed by my continued silence.

With her words, she gave such a human-like shiver, as if chilled, that for a moment I believed she was indeed a lost girl.

All I could muster was an inviting gesture with my palm.

Rightly interpreting my motion, the nocturnal guest smiled gratefully and, spotting a dry log beside her, sat on it, extending her bare feet towards the fire. I immediately noticed they looked just as expected - as if they had truly walked on rough terrain: scratches, light grazes, marks from twigs. Just the kind you get when you are used to wearing shoes and decide to venture into the woods barefoot.

If this image is an illusion, it's of the highest quality. Such attention to detail is not just a sign of a master's work in this branch of magic but also suggests a vast life experience that allows one to account for such nuances. But is the image of the girl sitting opposite me illusory?

I leaned over, picked up a dry twig, broke it into several pieces, and threw it into the fire. I didn't throw it just for the sake of it - there was no need to add more wood. One of the twigs I had broken off, seemingly by accident, missed the fire and flew just a couple of centimeters above the bow in the girl's hair. It really flew by and landed about a meter behind her.

Not an illusion...

I don't think an adult and experienced mage would be the height of a little girl.

As good as Illusion magic is, it doesn't replace a physical object but works only with the "image." That is, if an adult was sitting by the fire under the illusion of a little girl, experienced enough to also maintain an image of the "background," thereby creating the appearance that they are shorter to match the illusion, then the twig I "accidentally" threw would have hit the real physical body, like an invisible wall, and fallen straight down. It would have fallen immediately and not after flying past the girl's bow. Of course, one might suggest that the mage is a dwarf no taller than one meter twenty. But that possibility seemed too far-fetched. After such a simple test, I couldn't completely rule out the illusion, but this explanation immediately dropped from being the "most probable" to the bottom of the list.

The little girl reacted to my twig provocation just like... a little girl would. She flinched in mild fear when the twig flew over her head, turned around to see it fall, and then turned back to the fire.

My silence had become embarrassingly long, and as soon as the lump and tickle in my throat were gone, I asked:

"Are you wandering?"

The moment the word escaped my lips, I realized I had said something wrong. No local would address a young child approaching their camp in the dark, scary forest at night with such words as their first line. They would ask something like: "How did you end up here?", "What are you doing here?", "Are you lost?", "Where are your parents?" or something similar. I, however, addressed the nighttime visitor as if she were an adult. As if she wasn't a child but an experienced hunter drawn to the campfire.

"Yep! I wander around." The girl replied enthusiastically.

My head is throbbing from strain, trying to align what my eyes see and the thoughts that this image is a deception. This girl behaves so naturally, her reactions so believable, that I cannot detect the slightest falsehood in her behavior.

An experienced Illusion mage can create such a perfect image. With the caveat that it will be an "externally perfect image." Yes, such an illusion would surely deceive ninety-nine out of a hundred locals. However, most earthlings have watched many movies and read multiple books; you can't fool us for long with just a good image. We'd quickly notice if a child's appearance doesn't match adult behavior and reactions. But I didn't spot any inconsistencies. Not a single one!

Who is she?

A great Illusion mage with five Stars in acting skills? I don't believe it. So, it's not that, and I should dismiss the illusion idea. But if not that, then what?

A perfect metamorph?

But as far as I know, there aren't any in Ain. The "past me" never encountered one during all that time. Yes, legends of beings capable of taking any form they wish do circulate here. But these stories seem more like folklore or echoes of ancient tales when gods would occasionally take on human forms and even live for a while in that guise. Could it be that some goddess graced me with her personal presence?

No.

Nonsense.

If even one of the gods survived the Fall and hid among humans all these years, they would have shown themselves during the Invasion. Moreover, the death of most gods is documented in their scriptures. Only the fate of two remains largely unknown. The first of this pair is Eyrat the Creator. But the idea that the supreme deity wandered Ain all this time is beyond my imagination. For one, He wouldn't have let some questers run rampant in His world. And for a million other reasons. So, he was most likely captured by the Demon Princes and imprisoned deep within Giard, beyond the closed Interworld Gates. The second is Magevra, the goddess of Magic in all its manifestations. The deity of the First Flight of the Stairway of Divino, making her no less powerful than Antares or Obeorn. Yes, where she is and what happened to her - whether she died, was captured like Eyrat, remains alive, or disappeared - is unclear. But had she been in Ain, the Last Cycle would have unfolded differently. If Arien, having just reached the Fifth Flight, could burn an entire demonic legion with a single spell, then what is an entity like Magevra capable of? A deity of such power would have undoubtedly wiped out the entire Invasion without breaking a sweat. And the combined forces of all five Demon Princes wouldn't have been able to stop her, I believe.

After these thoughts, I dismissed the possibility of the night visitor being a divine "manifestation."

While I was lost in thought, the girl had warmed her feet and adjusted her sitting position, tucking her legs beneath her. All this time, she pretended to examine her wreath, rotating it in her hands with a not-so-pleased expression, as though something about it discontented her. Suddenly, her face lit up with a smile, and she pulled out a shrub twig from the flower wreath, which seemed out of place to her. She twirled the twig in her hands and tossed it into the fire. An abrupt bout of paranoia made me freeze, holding my breath. At that moment, I expected anything: an alchemical explosion, a lethal or paralyzing poison. But the twig just fell into the fire, settled into the embers, and slowly smoldered, not emitting any "suspicious smoke."

"Do you want a chalkberry?" The peculiar child asked me with a slightly concerned voice, plucking a berry from her wreath and offering it to me.

"Thanks, my stomach doesn't hurt," I replied with a very forced smile, declining her offer.

"So it only seemed to me!" The girl immediately grinned carefreely and tossed the berry over her shoulder. "Your face looked like you had a stomachache," she added.

As if I could have looked better right now, given the situation!

Apparently, now fully warmed up, the girl stretched out, extending her arms and legs forward, tilted her head back, and stayed that way for almost half a minute. Afterward, she commented:

"There really won't be any rain." She then lowered her head, looked at me, and continued, "I love rain." Noticing my expression, she added, "You don't like it, do you?"

"Wet..." I gave a short answer, shivering slightly.

"So what?" Tucking her legs beneath her again, she placed her wreath on her lap and stated with a hint of defiance, "I still love it!"

"Weren't you cold just a moment ago?" I asked, feeling the fear slowly leaving me.

"So?" She pointed towards the fire, "The bonfire warms up."

"But if it starts to rain, the bonfire will go out," I countered.

"Nooo," she shook her head. "The clouds are gray, not black. So the rain would be light, and it wouldn't put out the fire."

"You'd still get wet."

"Pff," she wrinkled her nose, like a princess denied a pastry. "My dress dries quickly!"

I chatted with her, feeling internally twisted by the absurdity of our conversation. As she remained silent for a moment, another test came to mind. I took out a piece of bread from my bag, which still smelled as if freshly baked, and some of the remaining cheese. Then, with deliberate slowness, I drew my dagger from my belt. The visitor watched my actions attentively, but there wasn't the slightest hint of fear in her gaze. She wasn't wary of me, not in the least. Making two sandwiches, I offered one to her.

"Will you share food with me?" According to local morals, it's considered very ill-mannered to attack someone with whom you've shared bread.

"Sure!" She replied instantly, snatching the sandwich from my hand and eagerly devouring it.

The test yielded no results. The nighttime guest even ate as if she were a regular child! Crumbs fell onto her dress, some slid off the smooth fabric onto the ground, but a few pieces of bread still remained caught in the folds. Maintaining such detail, what's called "in real-time," through the Magic of Illusion is a skill only two or three masters in all of Ain could possibly possess. And each of them certainly has other matters to attend to, rather than wandering the Wicked Woods at night, driving random impressionable travelers to the brink of a heart attack.

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While the girl was occupied with her sandwich, I returned to my thoughts, sifting through memories of various legends and tales of this world.

If before me is neither a mage of Illusion nor a concealed god, then... Closely observing the girl, I still dismissed the first thought - that the questers were making fun of me in this manner. Such antics would be too petty for them. I'd even say, too trivial. Think, brain, think; I'll buy you a helmet later!

What possibilities remain?

As I wracked my brain, like wringing a wet cloth, the guest, having eaten two-thirds of the sandwich, paused and stared at the dagger I still held in my hand.

"Let me see!" Without the slightest hint of shyness, she demandingly extended her free palm forward.

"The dagger?" I was a bit taken aback by her directness and asked again just to be sure.

"Yep!" She nodded and, setting aside her food, handed me a wreath. "And I'll let you see what I made! It's beautiful!"

Alright! If she's just a child, then giving her the blade should be safe, except she might cut herself. But if this appearance is just a disguise, then against someone capable of such a show, I stand no chance – with or without the dagger in hand. Were this encounter anywhere but the Wicked Woods, I might've thought the girl was a "decoy" trying to disarm me in such a simple way. After which her accomplices would immediately attack me. But imagining a group of bandits in these woods, right next to the Sidhe land? Well, there are different kinds of madmen, even very brave ones, but they certainly wouldn't last long here.

"You won't cut yourself?" I asked just to be sure.

"Nope!" The guest confidently replied, shaking her outstretched hand demandingly. It seemed like she might even stomp her feet impatiently if I waited for another few seconds.

Handing over the dagger and taking the floral wreath from her hands, I made it so our fingers touched. But even this test gave no insights; the girl's skin felt as it should for a child. Without bringing the wreath to my face, I examined it closely. It was meticulously crafted, and one can tell that the hands that made it have done so many times before. No matter how I inspected it, nothing seemed amiss. Even the flowers, if they didn't grow in this thicket, surely grew on the slopes of the Great Ridge, implying she could have picked them nearby.

"It's beautiful indeed." Having noticed nothing of interest, I offered the wreath back. "Did you make it yourself?"

"Pff..." was her only response, her expression clearly conveying, "Uncle, are you dense? Who else, if not me?"

However, she didn't rush to retrieve her wreath. As if enchanted, she twirled the Lightning Dagger in her palms, examining it from every angle. After sitting with my hand outstretched for nearly a minute, I cleared my throat to get her attention and motioned with the wreath. Making a face as if she had tasted something bitter, she took back the wreath and returned the dagger to me. She looked as though a villain was taking away her newly acquired yet already beloved toy.

"Beautiful..." She murmured, her eyes still fixed on the weapon.

"Just an old dagger." Trying to hide my relief after getting the blade back, I shrugged.

"Beautiful!!" She repeated louder and stomped her foot.

Apparently, she's not used to being contradicted, hence the reaction. Honestly, she reminds me of a spoiled girl from a noble family. But such a child has no place in the Wicked Woods, let alone wandering here alone. Unless...

"It's beautiful here," I lied, scanning the surrounding woods. "Like in a dream, isn't it?"

"In a dream?" She looked puzzled. "No! My dreams are way better!"

Maybe she doesn't understand what's happening and thinks she's asleep? Perhaps she ended up here due to some twist of spontaneous magic or someone's malevolent intent. If that's the case, I'm really sitting opposite an ordinary girl. Is she a child in trouble who doesn't even realize it, thinking everything around her is just her dream? This theory explained everything except for our encounter. Maybe our meeting was purely coincidental, or perhaps her displacement from her bed to this area interfered with my transition? However, it doesn't add up. Her dress doesn't resemble pajamas, and the portal malfunction occurred hours before our encounter. Still, what if she's truly under a Mental Magic spell and perceives everything as a dream? Unfortunately, a simple pinch won't dispel such an influence.

The girl, in the meantime, had even finished the breadcrumbs, collecting them from her dress, and stared at me as if seeing me for the first time.

"Reygyana!" she said cheerfully, waving at me. "But you can just call me Rey!"

"Raven," I waved back.

"What does your name mean?" the girl asked carelessly. "Mine is 'Lightning-Bringer'! They say that when I was born, lightning struck the house, and my first cry drowned out the thunder!" She frowned and added, "But I don't believe that tale..."

And I do believe it, considering how she didn't want to let go of my dagger. A hidden Affinity with an Element? They say it can manifest like this in childhood; on Ain, like attracts like.

"Crow, that's what my name signifies."

"Oh!" She clapped her hands. "It suits you! You really do look like a crow. A ragged, slightly plucked one, not majestic and wise... But similar!"

"Well, thanks." I couldn't help but smile.

"Don't be offended!" She lifted her head proudly. "But I never lie. To anyone, ever! It's true!"

Could it still be a quester, playing a joke?

However, the girl then yawned so sweetly that my body involuntarily recalled its fatigue, and I yawned too - as if her distorted reflection in a mirror. The realization that I shouldn't sleep now brought me back to my senses. No, no one could impersonate a girl this well; she's definitely not someone pretending to be a child - she is a child!

But then again, she might be a dragon...

There are tales, and bards sing songs about how one of these creatures survived and soars somewhere over the ocean, never coming close to the ground. In all these legends, the surviving dragon is always, in every single story, female. And if one reads Obeorn's scripture, or rather those fragments from it that earthlings managed to find in the Last Cycle, it is said there that dragons can take on any form. Without specifying how they do it or if there are any limitations to these forms. But looking at this yawning girl covering her face with her wreath, I don't believe in the dragon theory. Not at all. Although, one of the earthlings said that he met and even spoke with this dragoness who outlived the rest of her kind. But he didn't provide any evidence for his words, and as they say, he was dead drunk then. Moreover, the "past me" heard that story not firsthand but as retold by another person.

So, I had two possibilities left, disregarding the most absurd options. First – sitting opposite me is a more than two-thousand-year-old dragon who wanted to chat with a random traveler. Why a dragon would want such a thing, I can't fathom. But then again, I don't have a degree in dragonology; maybe the Ancient ones fancy such interactions? The second possibility is that this girl is merely a child, brought into the Wicked Woods against her will, thinking everything happening around her is a dream. All things considered, the second option seems far more plausible. I'd even say a thousand times more likely!

As for not being able to see her real rank, it might be a side effect of a spell cast on the girl. Asking her mundane questions like "How old are you?" or "What are you doing here?", "Where are your parents?" - if she truly believes everything around her is a dream, it might only intensify her denial of being in a dream. Furthermore, if Reygyana isn't just an innocent girl in trouble but some unknown monster, such questions could provoke her, showing that I don't fully trust her appearance. However, I have another idea. The girl yawns, possibly feeling sleepy, and that's good. I should help her fall asleep.

Rummaging through my bag, I pulled out a cloak and, unfolding it, offered it to the nighttime visitor.

"Aha! Thank you." She nodded, took the cloak, and immediately wrapped herself in it.

She yawned again, stretched her legs towards the fire, stretched out, and blinked slowly. As far as I know, one can escape Mental enchantment by drifting into sleep, so I leaned over and pretended to be busy with my belongings. It wasn't five minutes before the child, lulled by my fussing, truly dozed off. She remained seated as she slept, only the wreath falling from her relaxed hand onto her foot, yet this didn't wake her.

If the child is under the influence of a Mental spell, she shouldn't be awakened; she must wake up on her own. Come to think of it, maybe that's why she wanted it to rain? Where there's rain, there might be thunderstorms. Perhaps the girl was instinctively drawn to lightning, which, if she truly has a hidden Affinity, could cleanse her from external influences on her mind? The more I pondered, the more the "child in trouble" theory seemed plausible. This thought somehow infuriated me.

Enough is enough!

First Aun, now this one, what's her name – Rey! Can I just be alone and focus on truly important matters rather than playing babysitter?! Why is this all happening to me? Children never gravitated towards me, neither on Earth nor in the Last Cycle, but now it's like a floodgate has opened. I'm angry because I understand I simply can't abandon an enchanted child in these woods. The past me would've done it without a second thought, but the current me will lose respect for myself and will despise my own reflection.

It's infuriating!

Annoying!

Absolutely vexing!

Though, there's a silver lining to this surge of negative emotions – I don't feel like sleeping anymore. With that thought, I started rummaging through the bags and reorganizing my belongings. This monotonous work eased most of the tension and calmed my anger. The scrolls of household magic surprisingly remained intact, which was a pleasant discovery. The rest of the items were essentially fine, too. Some got wrinkled, but the expensive clothes were safe and sound. As I tried not to make noise while reorganizing my belongings, this simple task took me no less than an hour. And all this time, I never let the nighttime visitor out of my sight for a moment.

After sorting through the bags, I fixed my appearance. First, I sewed up the holes in my pants and mended my shirt, and then I secured the artifact pin in my hair more firmly. I had completely forgotten about it during my many hours of running, and it's a wonder it wasn't lost. It would be a shame to part with it, just like I did with my spear and chainmail. This seemingly minor fuss took almost half the night. Unfortunately, I'm no master at sewing and mending. Plus, I needed to be quiet, which slowed my work even more.

When I had packed the needle and thread back into the bags, the clouds overhead began to clear a little. However, due to the dense canopy, it was still hard to discern the constellation patterns, so I couldn't really pinpoint my location. To get a better view of the stars, I needed to climb a tree. I hesitated for a few minutes, then thought, "Why not?" and began to scale an ancient trunk. But as soon as I reached the first branches, one of them snapped under my weight. I managed to hold on, shifting my grip in time, but the broken bough plummeted and crashed near the campfire.

This instantly awakened Reygyana. She opened her eyes, blinked rapidly, and then looked up. Noticing me perched on a branch nearly ten meters high, she burst into laughter:

"You don't have wings, Raven! Get down! Even I know you can't fly!"

"I wasn't really planning to," I replied from my elevated position.

"Good! You shouldn't... what did you say... plan to!" The girl stated with child-like assertiveness. "Instead, tell me, do you still have that tasty bread?"

"In the bag to the left of the campfire."

"Can I take it?"

"Rummaging through someone else's things is rude."

"Then come down!" And, in a much softer tone, she added, "I'm hungry."

Judging by her behavior, sleep healing didn't work. She is still not afraid of either me or the dark and creepy forest around us. It's a pity.

"You'll have to endure. I'm not your babysitter!" Saying this, I continued climbing.

"What did you forget up there?"

"I want to look at the sky and find out where we are!" I didn't hide my intentions.

"Ha! You are certainly not a wise crow."

"Why?"

"Why climb somewhere when you can just ask?" Reygyana laughed again.

"Ask whom?"

"You are so silly! Me, of course - who else do you see here..." She stared into the forest. "Well, except for that squirrel over there, but it doesn't count!"

"But do you know?" I wondered where she saw a squirrel; I couldn't see anything.

"Of course, I know!" She chuckled into her palm and, picking up the wreath from the ground, shook it off.

"So tell me, where are we?"

"Feed me first!"

I had to descend and make a sandwich. As soon as I handed it to her, the girl bit into the bread as if she hadn't eaten for days.

"Yummy!" She commented with a mouthful.

"Are you that hungry?"

"No," she shook her head, "just the bread is delicious. Really!"

"I know it's tasty. A true master baked it."

"Yep." She nodded and finished the sandwich without leaving anything behind.

"So where are we?"

"Over there," the child's hand pointed southwest, "the city of Katiyer, or rather, a small town."

"I know that place." Indeed, I knew. In the Last Cycle, Arien began her journey through Ain in its vicinity.

"So, it's somewhere there... Not too far."

"How close is it?" I asked for clarification.

"Pfff..." The girl snorted in response. "Somewhere there, I told you!"

"Listen," I leaned forward, "everything around isn't a dream. Everything around is reality. I'm real, and you're not dreaming of me." I had no other choice but to try and dispel the enchantment with the truth. "The forest around is the very Wicked Woods. Yes, the very, scary Wicked Woods."

"Huh?" She looked at me as if I were a complete idiot. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Reygyana, everything around is not a dream. It's reality!"

The wreath falls from the child's hands straight into the campfire. The flash is so bright that I'm blinded. Instinctively, I press myself against the trunk of a forest giant behind me and freeze. It's not me who freezes, but someone else's will paralyze me so I can't even blink.

"Ha-ha-ha!" A cheerful child's voice laughs very close. "Did you think I got into trouble? Wanted to help me? Save little me? You call yourself Raven, the wisest of birds, but you are so clueless. I told you... I'm just wandering. Simply wandering! And I also said I never lie. Was that hard to understand?"

The wave of unfamiliar magic wraps around me like a revitalizing mist, and I can see and move again. The little girl stands near a large bush about five meters away from me, smiling. Her smile is the epitome of openness and warmth, but the child's eyes are serious:

"Goodbye, naive Raven. I hope you'll grow enough to live up to the name you bear. And don't follow me. Don't..."

Having said that, she stepped into the thick shadow of the shrubs and silently vanished into the night, leaving me alone.

And the only thought swirling in my head is: "What the heck was that?!"