16

  “So, tell me,” I said to Matemai and Mhazi, “why are you excited about the bira?” I knew why I was, but for someone from this world, especially someone from a big city, a village festival didn’t seem like something to get excited about, I thought.

  “We don’t have biras in the city, so this is novel even for me,” Matemai said by way of explanation. But I didn’t buy it. He was a powerful wizard who was far too excited about a party. Even though Matemai was the happy-go-lucky type, surely the bira didn’t warrant this level of enthusiasm.

  Something was wrong, I just couldn’t name it. The air felt heavier than before, pressing against my temples like a slow, dull ache. I rubbed my forehead, trying to shake the feeling, but it only thickened, like a storm building without sound.I studied Matemai closely. He was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Something about the way his shoulders held too still made my skin prickle. Beside him, Mhazi stood silent and rigid like a statue.

  “What’s going on?” Jena asked. “What are you feeling? Your emotions are… tangled.”

  At the same time, Matemai was talking, his voice steady, cheerful. “This village’s biras are famous. It’s the only one with a full complement of priests serving all three gods.”

  His words blurred together. Jena’s voice pressed at the inside of my mind. Matemai’s voice filled my ears. The strange pressure in my head pulsed between my temples — tightening, tightening — like my thoughts were being squeezed into too small a space.

  I should have said something to Jena. He would understand this. He knew and understood magic better than I did. Matemai was talking about priests, three gods at the famous bira. But I couldn't make sense of it.

  Awareness was supposed to reveal hidden truths. Right now, all it revealed was noise.The pressure throbbed behind my eyes. Thinking felt like wading through mud. How was I supposed to enjoy the bira tonight like this?

  I needed to regroup. Now.

  But I couldn't just go. It took a few more moments. I needed to reassure Matemai. It turned out that all Matemai wanted was reassurance that he would have access to Jena in the near future. He understood that trying now was pointless — he couldn’t see or hear him, which made any attempt at conversation practically impossible. Still, he didn’t seem deterred.

  I waved them off with a promise to see them again in the evening.

  The moment they were gone, Jena’s voice pressed into my mind. “Talk to me.”

  He felt closer. Not just present but also near. Like someone leaning over my shoulder, trying to see what I saw. The link between us stirred, restless, tugging at thoughts I hadn’t meant to share. Unease slid across the connection but something steadier flowed back from him, cool and grounding. That wasn’t new but it wasn’t normal either.

  Was he sensing what I felt or was I sensing him? The impressions overlapped, blurred together, until I couldn’t tell where my emotions ended and his began. The bond between us was changing. Growing. Rearranging itself into something I didn’t understand.I didn’t have the strength to figure it out.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I can’t think. Please, take me back.”

  We were back in the lair by the pool in an instant.

  The pressure in my head vanished just as quickly, like someone had peeled noise-cancelling earphones off my ears. The world snapped back into sharp focus. Thoughts lined up again. Breathing felt easy. But relief wasn’t the first thing that came. It was puzzlement. If Jena could move us in and out so effortlessly, why hadn’t he done that the first time I arrived? Back then, I’d tumbled through darkness and rolled down into the lair like I’d been dropped by accident.

  I frowned at the water’s still surface. Another mystery. Another question I didn’t have the strength to figure it out, yet. I sighed.

  “You know I can’t read your mind. You will have to talk. I could sense something was wrong but now I sense more puzzlement.” Jena was saying standing across from me, again. Last time I thought we was trying to distance himself away from me. Could he choose exactly where each of us appeared? I was laying on the cushions here. When we arrive outside I am always standing. I wanted to ask him but right now that didn’t seem important. But I could try out my theory.

  “Thank you, Jena,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Next time we come in, I’d like to arrive standing. Lying down feels strange.” He gave a small shrug as if it didn't mean anything. I shifted on the cushions, watching him carefully. So it wasn’t random. He was choosing.

  “I don’t know what’s going on either. It’s just that it is hard to think out there.” I rubbed my temples, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t tell you before, but when I was in the forest this morning, especially near the village, everything felt heavier.” I hesitated. “Not bad, just present. Like the feeling at a funeral or a celebration where everyone’s already excited before anything even happens. It hangs in the air. You breathe it in without meaning to.” I shook my head slowly. “It doesn’t exactly change your mood. Not really. It just presses on you like background noise you can’t turn off. Annoying more than anything.”

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  My shoulders loosened slightly as I looked around the lair.“I felt better the moment we came back here. My mind cleared instantly. Like I could finally breathe properly again.” I swallowed. “But this time when we went out side it kept building. Stronger and stronger until thinking felt impossible.”

  “Oh?” Jena tilted his head slightly, thoughtful. “Do you think Matemai was doing something to you?”

  I started to shake my head then stopped halfway. Was he? Matemai had sworn to protect me. The memory of his oath surfaced, steady and certain but how much weight did that really carry? Words were easy. Magic wasn’t always.

  “I don’t think so,” I said slowly. The Ding seem to think so. The uncertainty lingered anyway sharp, needling. There was only one way to know. “Let’s go back out.”

  Jena didn’t answer immediately. His presence tightened around mine tense, watchful. “Are you sure?” Of course he’d hesitate. If something happened to me… what would happen to him? I was his only anchor to the physical world. His only way out there.

  “Yes,” I said gently. If anything went wrong… he could pull me back.

  “Okay. But tell me the moment it becomes too much,” he said. His tone was firm, almost an order. It grated slightly. But the concern behind it was unmistakable. I could see it in his eyes or did I feel it through the bond? I couldn’t tell anymore. Another puzzle.I let out a quiet breath. That seemed to be the pattern today one question leading to another, answers slipping just out of reach. Yes, puzzles. That had been the theme all along, hadn’t it?

  We were back outside in a instant and this time Jena’s touch me.

  “Jena did you just teleport me without touching me?”

  “It seems I did!” The was wonder in his voice. What did this mean? Another puzzle to puzzle over but it was heart warming to know I wasn't alone in my lack of understanding and knowledge. Even Jena was puzzled.

  We both scanned the surroundings, searching without quite knowing what for. Nothing moved. The forest stretched around us — dry grey savanna grass whispering in the breeze, brittle branches motionless under the afternoon sun. No animals nor rustling shapes in the undergrowth. Only sound drifted through the stillness were distant wings beating the air and a few sharp caws overhead. Birds flew, somewhere above the canopy but none in sight.

  “Anything yet?” Jena asked quietly.

  A faint heaviness brushed against my awareness. It was softer than before, but unmistakable. The same unsettling weight that had lingered all morning not as heavy as when Matemai was here. My stomach dropped. Matemai had been doing something to me. So the oath meant nothing. But the ding— The thought never finished. Pressure flared suddenly at my temples. It was sharp, tightening, building faster than before. My breath caught as the weight pressed inward, squeezing the edges of my thoughts until they began to blur.

  “It’s happening again,” I whispered, closing my eyes. I hadn’t meant to, the motion was pure instinct. But as darkness settled behind my eyelids, the heaviness eased. It was not gone, just quieter and distant. My breath steadied. So that mattered.

  “We need to figure this out,” I murmured, and opened my eyes again. The pressure rushed back just as sharper and heavier as before. And just as suddenly it was gone and the world looked different.

  “Oh!” Jena and I spoke at the same time. He could see it too.The Mist… had a residue? At first I thought my vision was playing tricks on me. Then the air shifted and I saw it clearly. Translucent white strands drifted through the space around us, thin and wispy like unraveling smoke. They curled and stretched, dissolving and reforming in slow, silent motion. They not so much rising or falling, just suspended. I focused harder and the world changed. The tendrils threaded through the trees, clung to the grass and streaked the sky in faint, ghostly ribbons. It was everywhere.

  Ding!

  You have become aware of the smoke-that-thunders’ residue. Your Awareness has gained +1 XP. Awareness is now 8/10.

  Congratulations! +1 Mental XP.

  Would you like to spend your XP?

  Not now.

  I dismissed the prompt.

  “Oh,” I breathed again. It was beautiful in its ethereal quality. Like threads of pale light unraveling in slow motion. I reached out and tried to gather a strand in my fingers. It was cool but intangible. It slipped through, breaking apart and reforming beyond my grasp. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” I asked at last.

  Jena didn’t hesitate. “Wispy tendrils drifting through everything?” His booming voice rolled through the air, echoing strangely in the mist.

  “Yes.”

  “Then it’s the Mist’s residue.” Of course he knew what it was. I watched the pale strands curling through the trees, brushing past my arm, dissolving into the sky.

  “Will it fade?” I asked quietly. “I think this is what’s been causing that strange feeling around the village.”

  Jena didn’t answer immediately. He studied the air with unusual focus. “It shouldn’t be this dense,” he said slowly. “The smoke passed through here a month ago. By now, only traces should remain.” A pause. “So either the source of the smoke is nearby,” he continued, voice tightening slightly, “ or it has changed. Evolved.” That word settled heavily between us. Then he lifted his hand and swept it slowly from east to west through the air.“Look closely,” he said. “See that?” The pale strands shifted, subtle, but unmistakable. “It’s moving.” He said.

  “Let’s find the source,” I said, curiosity rising faster than any actual plan. Now that I could see the residue clearly, the heaviness had faded. I could now think clearly and i was getting excited. If awareness came from noticing things then following this might might earn more XP.

  Jena didn’t share my eagerness.“Hold on, Anesu. Let’s think this through.”

  I blinked at him. I wasn’t sure what surprised me more — that Jena wanted to slow down or that Mr. Let’s-Save-the-World suddenly wasn’t rushing toward danger.

  “Of course,” I said quickly, reining myself in. “We should prepare properly. I need better clothes and we should figure out your teleportation range.”

  That eased the tension around Jena and just like that, we were back in the lair.