"Oww. I guess I really am awake. This isn’t a dream. Okay"
Crystal pinched her skin as a test to see if she was dreaming or not. The sting proved that she was awake. Though suddenly going from Level 6 to Level 10 in merely a day was unheard of as most of the playerbase were still around the level 4 mark.
The village buzzed around her, loud with laughter, bartering, and footsteps over sun-warmed stones. Children chased each other between vendors. Someone shouted about discounted root vegetables. The scent of roasting meat drifted through the square.
She walked aimlessly, letting the rhythm of the place carry her forward. The weight of the morning sun pressed down on her shoulders. Somewhere behind her eyes, a familiar presence stirred.
You reacted to pain with vocal affirmation.
The voice rang out in her mind. Crisp. Mechanical. Unwavering. Crystal didn’t flinch. She had grown used to Eisvir’s sudden observations, even if they never came with warning.
"Yeah. That’s what people do," she said aloud, though she didn’t know if anyone could hear her talking to themself. "It helps ground you."
You wished to confirm your state of consciousness. Pain was selected as the method.
"I didn’t want to overthink it."
Crystal sighed and kept moving. She passed a stall full of trinkets carved from bone and driftwood. A cat lounged beneath a stack of empty baskets. Her steps slowed near a bakery window. The smell was too good.
You stopped. Your eyes are fixated on the pastries. Hunger?
"Also a little hungry."
I would like to understand that.
she muttered, before walking again.
The music of a stringed instrument floated in from a nearby plaza. It was off-key but enthusiastic. Crystal found herself drawn toward it. A small band of traveling performers was mid-song, with two dancers spinning through the dusty square as the villagers clapped along in time.
Crystal moved away from the music once the crowd started clapping. She didn’t like standing out, and the sudden attention made her fingers curl against her palm. The warmth of the sun still clung to her cloak, the cloth trailing faint dust as she walked.
The villagers didn’t stop her. One or two offered polite glances. A few children chased each other around a water barrel and darted past without care. A butcher whistled while cleaning his stall. Familiar rhythms. Not her rhythm, but not hostile either.
You are accepted, despite being other.
Eisvir’s voice touched the edge of her thoughts like a breeze slipping under a door. Always watching. Always weighing the world around her.
Crystal stopped in front of a fountain shaped like a spiraling serpent. Its eyes had worn smooth from decades of sun and rain, and moss had gathered around the base.
"I don’t cause problems. That’s enough for most people," she said.
"Especially in a place ."
You carry stillness the way others carry weapons. It makes them uneasy.
"I’m not here to comfort anyone."
You are not here for isolation either. Not entirely.
She didn’t answer that. A breeze tugged a loose strand of hair across her cheek. She brushed it away and sat on the edge of the fountain, letting her boots scrape softly against the stone.
Two villagers passed by, deep in conversation. Neither paid her any mind.
Eisvir remained quiet for a moment. That quiet never meant absence. Just observation.
When I lived in form, silence meant danger. A pause before wrath.
Crystal tilted her head back. A crow landed on the rooftop opposite and squawked before flying off again.
"Not everything still means what it used to."
And what do your silences mean?
"Peace," she said. "Sometimes."
She let the sound of the village settle around her. Chatter, footsteps, laughter, a hammer striking metal in a slow rhythm. She could feel her shoulders start to ease.
You are cold, but you do not freeze.
Crystal narrowed her eyes slightly. "That supposed to be a compliment?"
It is observation. I have only just begun to understand warmth.
Something about the way Eisvir said that made her lips twitch. Not a smile. Not quite. But close.
she said, standing again.
And with that, she stepped back into the sunlit streets.
She wandered with no real destination, letting her boots carry her across uneven cobblestone paths. A trio of children ran past her with sticks held like swords, yelling about dragons and treasure. One of them glanced up at her and hesitated, as if about to say something, but kept running after his friends. She watched them disappear around a corner.
"They were playing," Crystal murmured. "I would’ve ruined it."
You assume your presence would diminish joy. Why?
She didn’t answer right away. Her steps slowed as she passed a stall with bright fabrics fluttering like captured wind. Colors too loud for her taste. She brushed her fingers across a deep blue scarf as she passed, then let it go.
"It’s just easier that way."
Crystal looked toward the well in the center of the square. An old woman was filling a bucket and laughing with a younger man. They noticed her standing there but offered nothing more than a courteous nod. No suspicion. No fear. Just acknowledgment.
A dog barked from somewhere nearby. She heard the clatter of hooves, the squeak of a wheel. The sun was higher now, touching the edges of her collar. The warmth was steady. Unwelcome at first, but not painful.
You once walked alone in empty places. Now you walk alone in company. This is change.
Crystal let out a sigh and a wry smile as she softly murmured
"Yeah..I guess you are right."
Enough time has passed. I shall have this time you have shown me as your trial. It is now time I teach you one thing.
’What are you going to teach me?’
The choice will be yours. Will it be Eyes, Claws or Wings
Crystal blinked, then laughed under her breath.
"You’re letting me choose?"
It is a matter of trajectory. Your preference reveals the shape you wish to grow into. Eyes. Claws. Or Wings.
She took a slow step toward the edge of the square, letting the sun catch the side of her face. Her shadow stretched long behind her on the cobblestones.
Crystal tilted her head, thoughtful. The sunlight warmed the side of her face, but her mind had drifted elsewhere.
There was no flourish in her voice. No drama. Just a simple answer, spoken like a truth that had always been there, waiting for the right moment to surface once the question had been asked.