Loni'var finally settled in, her thighs pressed together as she tapped her feet lightly against the wooden floor. Faerith moved swiftly, her hands busy as she brewed a kettle of lavender tea, arranging a plate of cakes before joining her guest at the small wooden table.
The witch smiled—warm, familiar—as Faerith poured the steaming tea into her cup. "Thank you," Loni'var muttered softly.
Faerith nodded, accepting the gratitude with a small smile of her own. "So tell me," she began, curiosity edging into her voice, "what brings you back to the blissful town of Erandale? If that's even what I should call it," she added with a hint of sarcasm.
Loni'var took a slow sip of the lavender tea, the taste softening her features. Then she lifted her hand, fingers carving shapes through the air. A sharp burst of yellow light flared from her fingertips, shimmering before condensing into a single envelope. With a gentle slide across the table, she pushed it toward Faerith.
Eyebrows raised, Faerith asked, breaking the heavy pause, "What is this for?"
"Why not open it and see if that answers your question," Loni'var replied, tone light but carrying a firmness beneath. The room stilled, the silence thick, anticipation crawling in the air.
Faerith's gaze locked onto Loni'var's—soft, wary, and stern all at once—while the witch's cheerful expression didn't waver. With a breathy sigh, Faerith reached for the envelope, lifted it from the table, and carefully broke the crimson seal as her heart thudded once, hard, in her chest.
Inside the now open envelop a letter lay. As Faerith's eyes scanned the contents of the words written on it with black ink, they widened with immense shock and disbelief. She raised her head, glancing up at Loni'var who expected that reaction. "This... is an invitation.... to the knights of fall haven?" Faerith muttered, her voice shaky.
Loni'var reached out seeing the unease in her friend's daughter's voice, "Yes," she said, "After the fall of the Azure Crest things haven't been the same and the Mythics have reigned supreme, but with this new team of knights—"
"I am aware," Faerith cut it, "But why me.. why invite me, I don't have the necessary skills that you need"
Loni'var sighed, her expression dropping, "Well, from the abilities you just displayed here," she said, "I could say you're quite capable of being a part of our cause. Or are you saying that I saw an illusion?"
Faerith sighed, rolling her eyes—defeated as her dear Loni'var had already found out her secret. She exhaled deeply, griping the letter tightly, "I'll think of what I need to do," she said, "But I cannot assure you till the next morning"
Loni'var nodded, a smile on her face, "Marvelous," she said, clapping her hands, "I cannot wait"
✾
With their conversation coming to an end, Loni'var exited the home of the young lady, awaiting her decision. Stepping out, she took in a deep breath, her smile dropping as she continued her way back, only to be stopped by a few chatter coming from two women who must've shared hatred for Faerith.
"I'm telling you that bastard Brewer's daughter isn't going to last very long," said the chubby lady in the duo.
The skinny one chuckled, "She really thinks brewing is an easy tasks, wait till she breaks."
The chaos witch listened to this, grunting underneath her breath—she didn't believe that this was what young Faerith had to endure since the passing of her parents. She wanted to do something about it, but she chose to let, leaving the place.
Faerith had begun her morning routine. Before toiling at the counter, she needed to bathe. She sat naked in her privy chamber, pouring wooden buckets of water over her body. As she washed, her thoughts drifted, tangled with the decisions she had to make.
But one thing left her thinking more than the rest. When she'd encountered Loni'var,, a voice had spoken—etched sharply into her mind.
Run.
Could that have been her imagination? A dream?
She doubted it—and her doubts shattered as an intelligible voice suddenly whispered directly into her ear. Faerith flinched, eyes snapping toward the sound.
Someone was there. Someone else.
But when she looked around, the room was empty. Only when she turned back did she see the figure standing before her, terrifying in form yet unmistakably familiar.
Ravessa.
Faerith gasped. "It's… you," she stuttered.
"I have a name, child," Ravessa replied, "And it is my wish that you use it with respect"
"How did you get here? I thought you were only a dream," Faerith said, her shock softening into something more unsettled. "Just like the system…"
"Glad to see you think fast," Ravessa said. "But time is running out, girl. The system requires you to feed it."
Faerith's brow rose. "Feed it? How do I do that?"
Ravessa pointed at the young lady. "I am certain you can reach the system and draw some of its power. But to fully master this you must finish quests which I have prepared for you."
"What quests have you prepared?"
Ravessa didn't give an answer. She walked towards Faerith, forcing the young woman to recoil—partly from her vulnerable, soaked state, but mostly from the crushing aura Ravessa carried.
"Hold still. Do not move," Ravessa ordered.
She placed a hand on Faerith's chest—her fingers sinking into her sternum as if passing through flesh like water.
Faerith's eyes shot wide, a sharp and heavy gasp escaping her breath.
A bright violet glow burst from her chest, pulsing violently. After several seconds, Ravessa withdrew and clutched in her fingers was a key.
Big. Rusted. And still radiating with the remnants of Faerith's own light.
"A key?" Faerith muttered, her voice small beneath heavy breath. "What could this be for?"
Ravessa slowly lent the key to the young lady, her battered palm spread out, waiting impatiently for Faerith to take the rusty object.
"This will enable you access into the other world," she said, her tone deep and unbending. "There you will face many obstacles, but once you are victorious, you will increase in power."
Faerith hesitated—that thought of increasing in strength crossing her thoughts, lingering, tempting, echoing through her mind like a whisper she wasn't sure she should trust. Still, she reached forward and picked the key from the battered palms of the witchy woman, its cold metal settling against her warm skin.
A small tab emerged before her eyes, small shards of purple glass rising like drifting embers.
[Level 1 Gate Key Obtained]
Faerith stared at this object, then down at the system glowing faintly before her. She lifted her gaze, ready to speak—ready to question, ready to confront—
And Ravessa was gone.
Nothing. No single sign of her anywhere. Almost like she wasn't ever there.
Faerith shrugged it all away, trying to forget the strange woman, the same way she did as well. For now, only one thing mattered and that was figuring out how to use the key.
What door was it meant to open? And where was that door?
That thougt—that question it lingered in her mind. As she finished her bath, she rose from the wooden frame where she had been pouring water over her skin and reached for two white cloths, wrapping one around her chest and the other around her thighs to cover herself.
Th cool, moist air brushed her damp skin while her thoughts circled the mystery of the key.
Faerith pushed that thought aside, hoping to forget for now. She needed to focus on her work, selling potions behind the counter.
If that woman doesn't want to tell me anything, might as well focus on myself for the time being. Maybe master my abilities.
With a steady breath, she stepped out of the privy chamber, her eyes locked on the rusted key resting her hand.
As she stepped into what she thought would be her bedroom, she didn't notice the cold breeze curling around her skin.
She didn't notice the way the air shifted.
She didn't notice she was no longer in the same place.
When she finally lifted her head, her lips parted and her eyes widened. "Bloody hell," she whispered.
This should have taken her back to her bedroom—but the bathing chamber's door had opened into an entirely different world—the sky revealed when her roof was supposed to cover it, beneath her feet was what looked like glass but she could stand on it and each time she took a step the surface made ripples—almost like water.
Suddenly, the key in her hand began to glow, a white light escaping from it. And as soon as the light died, the rusty color was gone now replaced by pure bronze.
Now it seemed the key had found its unknown purpose after all, and the question of what door it could open was suddenly answered.
Faerith quickly turned back, expecting to see the door she had just stepped through—but it was gone. Vanished.
She faced forward again, and there before her stood a line of doors. A white one, and beside it others painted in bright colors: red, blue, green, yellow, orange, and finally a deep purple.
Doors? None of these had been here before.
This place… this must be what Ravessa had warned her about.
A new purpose settled quietly over her. She drew in a slow breath, reminding herself not to panic. Her only real problem now was figuring out what to do in this strange place—and which door she was meant to choose.
And maybe find clothing.