Vincha, Kingdom of Divinium, Eastern region of Rohana Federation, 2051 S.C., 176th day

  Heron blinked. He was disoriented as he took in the cramped room of the Vincha Cask. The faces of his party members crowded around his bunk, their expressions a mix of relief and concern. Lucia released him from the hug and stepped back. Her cheeks were faintly flushed.

  “It happened again, didn’t it?” Heron muttered, piecing together the fragments of memory. “I remember defeating the beast. I guess its weight crushed me enough to lose consciousness. I’m so damn weak.” His hands gripped the sheets tightly.

  “That is not what happened,” Richard said, emerging from the gathered party. “You made contact with the Ulv’s horn. The Alpha’s horns are imbued with crystals—that’s how they achieve their telepathy. It didn’t occur to me that you might actually grab the thing.”

  “And the fault is mine,” Almir interjected, his broad shoulders slumping. “I failed our team; I gave my word that I would handle the Alpha, yet I faltered. You are anything but weak.” He bowed deeply to Heron.

  “No, Almir. It was a fluke. I just reacted,” Heron stammered, waving his arms dismissively as he tried to deflect the praise.

  “I told you before, you have excellent reflexes, I saw it in your training sessions,” Almir said, smiling warmly. “And in the midst of battle, when lives are on the line, there’s very little room for plans.”

  “Speaking of plans, weren’t you supposed to protect us?” Alessia asked, crossing her arms with a pointed glare at Almir. “You launched me toward that creature with no regard for my life. The Alpha could have killed me.”

  “We did have contingency plans,” Richard smirked, now leaning against the bunk frame. “Icarus was on standby to raise the vines if danger came to any of you.”

  “And how would vines sprout on the rocks at the top of a waterfall?” Alessia huffed.

  “That is because you expect vines to be a purely terrestrial plant. I assure you, aquatic life needs flora just as much as the land does,” Icarus interjected smoothly. “However, Almir was a bit rash with his idea. If you hadn’t scared the beast, I wouldn’t have had time to prepare the plants to sprout.”

  Alessia increased her irritated glare toward Almir. “See? Planning. We didn’t have to beat the Alpha right away.”

  “Well, running away at this level of threat would be defeatist to the party’s morale and reputation,” Almir rebutted firmly.

  “The point of the matter is that the two of you did well,” Richard said proudly. “And now that Heron is finally awake, we can inform him that sleeping for two days straight forced us to pay for an extra night at the hostel. Since he is the one who took the nap, it’s coming out of his pocket.”

  “Wait, I’ve been asleep for two days?” Heron sat up abruptly, his head spinning. “Did we even make the quest timeline?”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  “Well, yeah. We came back in the evening,” Lucia replied, her earlier concern shifting to a casual shrug. “I don’t think the whole battle and the cleanup lasted more than an hour. We even got to have dinner.”

  “She actually had her dinner right here, since she didn’t want to leave your side,” May teased with a mischievous glint in her eye.

  “May!” Lucia yelled, blushing furiously. “Yes, it’s true. You are our client, so of course I’m going to worry about your health.”

  “Alright, can we give Heron some space?” Irene asked gently. “He’s probably weak and hungry. I’ll go down and grab something for him to eat. The rest of you should go get ready for dinner, too.”

  “You heard her,” Richard affirmed, his tone signaling the end of the conversation. “I can also now go down and inform the hostess we’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

  “Shouldn’t we give him a day of rest?” Almir asked, concern creasing his brow.

  “No, but he can recover in the carriage among our gear,” Richard replied bluntly.

  Everyone began to file out of the small room, but Icarus remained behind.

  “Aren’t you coming, too?” May asked, pausing at the threshold.

  “I will join you shortly. I just want to check something with Heron,” Icarus replied, his lips curving into a slight smile.

  “It’s weird seeing you smile,” May remarked with a shrug, though Icarus paid her no mind as she followed the others out.

  The heavy latch of the door clicked into place, and the room was suddenly, uncomfortably still. Icarus stood motionless next to the bed. The air felt thick.

  “Do you remember anything after grabbing the horn?” Icarus finally asked, with a low tone.

  “Umm, not really,” Heron admitted, his brow furrowing as he tried to recall anything. “As I told you, I thought I just lost consciousness from the lack of air.”

  “So the only thing you remember is grabbing the beast by the horn, and the next thing was waking up here?”

  “Yeah, pretty much. Why? Did something happen?”

  “No, I was interested if you saw or heard anything like other times.”

  “No,” Heron said firmly. “I’m fairly certain I would remember those whispers if they’d come back.”

  “Good. Then get some rest,” Icarus said as he turned toward the door. “And you truly should speak with Irene about training you in crystal magecraft. We cannot afford to have you falling into a coma every time you come into contact with them.”

  Heron sat upright in bed, closing his eyes as he tried not look at anything anymore.

  I couldn’t get myself to tell them that something is wrong. How can I describe what is happening with my perception? Am I succumbing to madness? I’m pretty sure all the lines I been looking at in the room weren’t there before I woke up.

  He wondered if he just needed more sleep to make the hallucinations vanish, but the phenomenon refused to fade.

  I shouldn’t hide it from them. Though all of them seemed to have faint glows around them. What is going on?

  As his companions stood around him before, he saw strange, pulsing glows clinging to their silhouettes. He didn't know how to explain it without sounding delusional.

  But as he pondered how to go about this, there was a light click of the door latch, and Irene entered, carrying a tray of dinner.

  “I don’t want to see a single morsel left on this plate, do you hear me?” Irene said, with a scolding tone that poorly masked how deeply she had been worried about his health.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll leave nothing behind,” Heron smiled.

  He began to eat, and the flavor of the food, along with hunger, distracted him from all his concerns for a moment. But as he watched the gray lines drift through his field of vision, he couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine. He turned his gaze toward Irene.

  “Hey, Irene. Can I ask you something?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Tell me, is it normal to see certain things when you are not interacting with crystals?”