CHAPTER 37: BEHIND BARS

A cold yet dazzling murmur rattled Soren’s mind.

A murmur that was as alluring as the madness it entailed.

“The Whispering Dream greets you.”

He had no idea why, but at that moment, his mind couldn’t help but fill with joy… And also terror. The visage of the old man’s flesh expanding before bursting into a sea of blood and pus replayed constantly.

Just then, he felt his eyes fluttering to life. His senses returned to him slowly as he hyperventilated from the shock of it all.

Where am I? He grit his teeth to ease the pain emanating from his temples, but it did not cease in the slightest. The last thing he remembered was a man with two daggers confronting Tina and him. He must have passed out due to overusing his abilities.

Ugh! I seriously need to figure out a way to deal with the side effects… Aside from just the pain, the time dilation aspect of it was also very terrifying. Though, other than that one time when he used it against a Memory Void Spirit or when he was running away from the Headless Ogre, that effect had still not appeared again…

He was unsure what the trigger for it was. It was definitely different from just the usual usage of his abilities. Maybe it was random?

He didn’t know.

And there was one other thing he needed to figure out. It’s limitations.

When they confronted the hooded figure, he had the idea of using his [Eyes of the Fairy] to see the Beyond and pierce through the person’s Echo of Mind to read their thoughts. Tina had discussed before how slippery that man was—it felt very unnatural for her to miss her shots so easily. After piecing together a few ideas about what his abilities were, Soren figured that the only way to counter it was to do what he could do but better. His goal was to try and replicate Myrin’s inherent ability to counter their own thoughts being read—after all, he had always wanted to find a way to make sure Myrin didn’t snoop around his mind all the time and that was the perfect opportunity to test out his theory.

The result was, of course, a success.

But that still didn’t quell his doubts—in fact, it only heightened them. According to Myrin, a person’s Soul Realm or Soul Frame existed outside of the Beyond—in our natural world. It was simply a projection of one’s own will outside of themselves. What Soren had to have seen when his [Eyes of the Fairy] was simply a facade created by the Beyond to mirror the Nameless Culprit’s Echo of Mind.

The Beyond as he understood it, housed information down to the conceptual level for everything in the world, even things it did not fully understand. By its nature, it needed to have its own copy of the hooded figure’s Soul Realm. And that of course introduced a question to Soren’s mind:

Could it have been tampered with?

After all, they were facing a master illusionist—someone with abilities that clearly have psychological effects. Faking their own Echo of Mind might one hundred percent be possible. Still, he wondered about the motive of such a trick. Why would anyone expose their own Soul Realm and then die because of it? The questions only made his head hurt even more.

Rubbing his forehead, he began thinking about his current circumstances. He tried very hard to lift his body but couldn’t—he was pressing his back on something very cold and metallic. It only took a few more minutes for his blurred vision to stabilize.

The first thing Soren saw was utter darkness. In front of him, he could see the shape of what looks to be metallic bars—a jail cell. Rays of light were piercing from somewhere beyond his own scope of vision—outside his own confines in this dirty cell.

He smiled at the absurdity—they were trying their best to stop what was happening only for them to be framed for the crime. Though, if he’d been in the Court of Nightshade’s shoes, he’d probably made a similar assumption.

His thoughts turned periodic, as if to match the sound of dripping water coming from the ceiling. Soren suspected he was in some sort of underground dungeon. He could hear countless rats squealing as they ran down the hall adjacent to his cell. One of them even entered inside. Soren tried his best to ignore it—there was a more pressing matter to worry about:

His Soul Weapon was missing.

He sighed, I guess they took it away… He wasn’t that afraid they would discover anything—all the information was written in English, a language they should have no understanding of.

Actually—scratch that… The possibility of them having some sort of deciphering magecraft popped in his head.

I forgot this is a fantasy world… He wanted to slap himself. Once again, he had underestimated his circumstances. His mind ran through the scenarios.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

He wasn’t that concerned about them finding out about [Record] or [Eyes of the Fairy]—they were fairly special but Vagrants were known to have special abilities. What he was mainly concerned about was [The Faerie Court].

That ability was gained unnaturally—he still had no idea what it does and he didn’t plan on testing it anytime soon. But one thing was certain: It was most definitely unique. Mr. Unknown said so himself—The fragment of a fragment of a forgotten rune he had merged with was lost for more than a million years.

Would they kill me for it? The thought of trying to break out appeared in his mind. Though, he doubted he could escape with his ankle chained to the wall—it was done very tightly too. He guessed whoever put it on must have hated his guts. How could anyone hate me? He thought. I’m literally the nicest person ever.

The thought made him chuckle self-deprecatingly.

“Who are you?” A shriveled, tiny voice echoed out. Soren’s eyes widened. There was someone else being held here that he didn’t notice. He gulped down his hesitation and replied.

“Shouldn’t you introduce yourself before asking my name?”

“Hm? Why is that?” The voice asked meekly.

Ah, right… Soren forgot that Earth’s customs don’t apply in Yadria.

“My name is Andre. Will you introduce yourself to me as well?” Soren was ready for a fight if it came to it. The voice sounded fairly weak, but there was no way he could trust just his senses—Tina taught him that after all.

“I… I don’t have a name,” the voice said. Soren didn’t realize it at first, but the child was speaking in Yasini—a language usually only spoken by nobility. Though, it was only to a beginner’s level—even Soren, who had only learned the language a few days ago, was slightly better at piecing words together.

“You don’t have a name? How does that make any sense…”

“I don’t remember ever having a name,” he said. “I’ve been in here for as long as I remember.”

Soren stayed silent. He couldn’t really see in the darkness, but he could feel his own frown deepening. “You’re a kid aren’t you? How old are you?”

“I don’t know.”

“.....”

Soren wondered if he was Unblessed—though even with Yadria’s gross mistreatment, he’d never heard of them jailing a child and not even granting him the right to have a name. That seemed too extreme even for their standards.

It puzzled him, but he did have a theory. According to Tina, humans were viewed as lesser than even the Unblessed in the eyes of many nobles. There was a possibility that this child was a human they had kidnapped or found—they had left him to rot in a cell for his entire life. If what Myrin had told him regarding Yadria’s and Aellora’s relationship was true, this would certainly spark even more tensions if it was discovered.

Regardless of the cynicism, he was much more concerned with finding out more about him. But with how dark the cell was and his ankle chained to the wall, there was no way he could even approach him, let alone see him.

The child spoke up once again with a slight cough. “Mister, are you a fairy?”

The question rattled him a bit. A fairy? What the hell is he saying… Though it did remind him of what he found in his inner self. He leaned back against the cold, metallic wall. It was very damp—the entire cell was leaking water, after all. He could feel the chill wrapping around his bones slowly.

“Why do you say that?”

There was brief silence between the consistent dripping of water from the ceiling.

“... Because I can smell it…”

Soren froze. “Are you messing with me?”

“Why would I be?”

Stillness floated in the air once more. The child-like voice broke the silence, “I can tell… I'm a Demon after all…”

“What?!” His eyes widened as his skin stiffened. “Demon? As in a demonic spirit? What the hell?!”

“Demonic Spirit… Yes, I am one.”

“But that doesn’t make sense! Spirits don’t have physical bodies! How can they keep you here?”

“I… I don’t know. I feel strange when I move away… Very painful…”

Soren stayed silent for a second—interpreting his thoughts. He feels pain when he moves… He wondered if there was some sort of magecraft sealing him in place. He sighed—Soren decided to change the subject.

“You say I am a fairy… What exactly does that mean? That I am a spirit just like you?”

“No…” The voice said meekly. “It’s different… You’re different.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Different? What do you mean?”

“You’re not a real fairy… A fake one. A fictional one…

“No… Fake is the wrong word…” The child said slowly as the room fell to silence once more—Soren was puzzled. He waited for a response, but the child didn’t speak for another few seconds.

“You are a fairy not from this world.”

Soren froze. “How did you…”

“A good fairy. Not a bad one,” he interrupted. “Fairies are the enemy of us demons. But you—I don’t see you as an enemy, Mister Andre.

“I have a proposal.”

Soren’s frown deepened. “A proposal?”

“Yes. It is a deal that will help both of us, Mister.

“I want you to sign a contract with me.”