The house of Verdana Lux Datlesk stood among the trees like something that had arrived here by mistake. The fog around it was thicker, heavier, almost oily. Seyra stopped just short of the threshold.
“…strange…” Lira imprinted from her perch on Seyra’s shoulder.
“Yeah. The silence is too quiet,” Seyra muttered, and carefully pressed the handle.
The door gave way without a single sound.
Inside was… nothing. No footsteps. No rustle. Just emptiness pretending to be a room.
Seyra stepped in first. Lira slid off her shoulder and landed on the back of a chair to get a better view.
“…no one… but… a trace…” she sent.
“I see it,” Seyra nodded.
The house was unnaturally tidy. The table spotless. Shelves perfectly aligned. And yet — the air felt disturbed. Like someone had left too quickly and forgotten to close their energy behind them.
Seyra began searching. Quiet, precise, moving like a shadow careful not to step on another shadow. Lira watched her, head tilted, eyes gleaming.
“…there… almost…” She pointed with her beak toward a low cabinet by the wall.
Seyra opened it.
Inside was a small chest. Square, compact, covered in runes that twisted like living things.
“Oh, perfect,” she exhaled. “Runes. Just what I needed.”
Lira puffed up with pride. “…I said…“
“Yeah, yeah, you said.”
Seyra leaned down and placed her fingers on the lid — and the runes lit up instantly. Not with light. With memory.
The lid opened on its own, as if it recognized her.
Inside lay the Ring of the Mist Bell. Unassuming, silver, with a thin line of light that pulsed like a sleeping breath.
Seyra lifted it into her palm.
And at that moment, a low, distant thud echoed from outside.
The fog began to fall. Not drift. Fall. Like a curtain someone had just let go.
The ring vibrated — not with sound, but with a resonance that shot straight into her bones.
“…alarm…” Lira sent, but it was too late.
The air in front of them tightened. Twisted. And Verdana was simply there.
She appeared so fast that Lira didn’t even have time to spread her wings. She only let out a short, startled chirp that vanished into the silence.
“You shouldn’t have come here, Seyra,” Verdana said calmly.
Seyra inhaled, her aura threatening to burst under her skin — but Lira was close, so the light only flickered harmlessly.
Verdana raised her hand. The spell was short, sharp, like a branch snapping.
Purple light wrapped around them. Closed. Pulled.
Seyra felt the world smear. Lira shrieked — or maybe it was only an imprint in her mind.
And then darkness.
When they came to, the glow was gone. The house was silent. And Verdana was nowhere.
Lira wobbled unsteadily on the table where she had landed.
“…what… happened…?” she said in Seyra’s voice.
She tilted her head. Then more. Then even more. And tried to look into her own beak.
Unsuccessfully.
Bipilon’s Note
“You can fall into trouble suspiciously easily, more often than you’d think.”