Aysel woke up lightheaded, her eyes slowly adjusting to the room's dim light. She had no idea how long she'd been unconscious, but reassuringly, all her clothes were still on. As her vision cleared, she realized she was lying in the middle of a queen-sized bed that carried a faint, old smell. Her cat was still sound asleep in his cage, and her luggage sat at the foot of the bed.
The room, built of pale brick, was awash in the moon's ethereal glow, which poured through the open wooden windows and utterly eclipsed the feeble candlelight. Aysel stirred, the persistent sound of flowing water drawing her attention. She rose from the bed and found her way to an arched, doorless opening. Beyond it lay a stone bathtub, brimming with water that seemed to spring endlessly from a single missing brick in the wall.
Aysel stood motionless, gazing out the window. The store lights she'd seen earlier were still blazing, a stark contrast to the quiet room. She then moved to Felix, opening his backpack carrier. She tried to coax him awake, but he only gave a sleepy head tilt, completely unresponsive. She carefully placed him on the bed, allowing him to rest. A knot of worry tightened in her stomach. She grabbed her backpack from atop her luggage and pulled out her power bank. A small wave of relief washed over her—she'd packed it on a whim, recalling how often she'd heard about power outages in the Philippines. But then the chilling truth hit her: she wasn't in the Philippines. She was somewhere utterly, terrifyingly unfamiliar land.
* * * * *
The sun was still below the horizon as Aysel, now bathed and dressed in her plaid white cropped shirt and denim shorts, moved across the stone floor, her sandals clicking softly. Just as she finished closing her luggage, a gentle knock at the door startled her. She cautiously opened it a crack.
The man from yesterday, still sporting his satin romper and hat, offered a broad smile and presented a tray laden with food.
"Good mornin', my lady. Hope you slept well," he chirped.
Aysel swung the door open, letting him in as he carefully set the food tray on the central table. The man's words, so clear now, brought a sudden recollection of the green liquid the old lady had forced her to drink. It must have been that. She thought. Gathering her courage, her voice was barely a whisper as she asked, "Where is this?"
"We're in the 10th district of the Scylla Empire, The Dekatos District," the man replied, introducing himself as Asla, a motel staff member. He twirled the now-empty tray. "This is where the nightlife starts." His gaze lingered, sweeping over Aysel from head to toe.
"I believe you're from the West. The currency runs differently here; you'll have to trade with Blathemere if you want pocket money." He whispered the last part, bowing instantly before slipping out and softly shutting the door, leaving Aysel to the unsettling silence.