'What is heavier: the world or people's hearts?'
The room was luxurious, opening into a spacious chamber with soaring ceilings and walls made of polished marble veined with gold. Soft, natural light filters in through the stained glass windows, casting a celestial lustre over everything in the room.
The centrepiece was the massive four-poster bed draped in shimmering silks of deep emerald green adorned with ornate gold lattice, the bed flanked by two intricately carved nightstands, both holding a crystal lamp that glows warmly. Looking further, one would notice that the light moved throughout the room. The type of light source in the chamber was a more whimsical source seen in dreams.
The fire from the stone fireplace crackled, casting flickering shadows along with the dancing orbs above. On top of the mantlepiece, a painting of a woodland scene adds to the atmosphere, with a nearby seating area arranged around a low table with comfortable chairs upholstered in soft, supple velvet.
Intricate tapestries and paintings adorned the walls, depicting scenes from the history of the Naiads history and mythology. Then tucked away into a far corner, a small bookshelf holds a collection of rare and hefty-looking tomes written in a bygone language [Name] could not decipher.
The smell of the room was herbal – filled with the scent of flowers and medicinal herbs, wafting in from the gardens outside, along with the distinctness of trickling water from a nearby waterfall.
••••
If it was any other place and I knew where I was, I would have gone to sleep. I was in a foreign place – everything was unfamiliar.
'Lucian?'
'Yes, Host?'
'Will I be getting any information on this world?'
'Do you wish to have any? For the betterment of experiencing this world, it is best to go in blind?'
'Will I die in the end?'
'Following procedure, Host.'
As the last of Lucian's voice faded from my head, the sound of locks clicking and the slow groan of wooden doors opening. I slowly sat up – watching the door open and an entourage of Naiads walked in.
"You don't seem alarmed?" the one at the front spoke – his voice was calm and speaking curiously.
"I've been in more questionable situations," [Name] answered with a wry grin.
••••
Dardanos Mitra – the young Prince of the Elkwood Forest, where the Naiads have resided for centuries before, was baffled by the human laid before him.
"Wait," there was a pause, and Darnados raised an eyebrow, "Why am I chained to the bed?"
Only then did the peculiarity of the [Name]'s situation dawn on him.
"Why am I chained to the bed?"
"You were brought back by one of my sisters. You're more of a plaything here."
"Right – well, can I change clothes then?" [Name] gave himself an obvious sniff before crinkling away in disgust.
"Uh – right. Yes, yes, you can."
Darnados felt slightly confused at the individual in front of him – always taught that humans were untamed and uncivilized, yet the one in front of him didn't seem that way. Maybe it was just the outlier, and where there is smoke, there is usually fire. Darnados waved to his servants to attend to the human and walked out of the room quietly – down the halls and through the winding staircases, arriving at the quarters of his sister Anita, knocking on the door gently.
"Come in."
Darnados looked at her expectantly, and she huffed in slight annoyance. Darnados' brow hiked a little higher, gaze burning into the back of Anita's skull as she flopped forward onto her bed.
Anita felt the edge of her bed shift under the weight of another sitting down. She sighed again.
"There was just a lot of hurt surrounding him, and it wasn't me that had found him. It was our High Priestess that did, and she would not tell me further details about how she encountered him or what he was doing initially."
"Oh. That," there was a pause, "Does not sound like the High Priestess."
"Exactly," came the exasperated answer, but Anita continued, voice deliberate, "However, the High Priestess looked quite unalert as she was bringing him back."
"How so? In what way?"
"I… had never seen her so miserable."
••••
The High Priestess was someone of discipline. What she would expect of others, she would expect more from herself. She was brought up strictly and held to a high standard by her aunt, as well as by the peers she had grown up with.
There wasn't much known about her; she had friends, interacted with many, and felt Alina was a good friend to them – but they weren't given clarity as to if she reciprocated.
She sat in the cathedral, in a pew close to the front. But today, there seems to be a change in the atmosphere. The space seems to expand endlessly, the high ceiling stretching into the darkness above, with shafts of muted light filtering down from the stained glass windows from high above.
The air hung thick and heavy, almost suffocating, and the flickering candles on the altars cast eerie shadows on the walls. The silence was punctuated only by the distant drip of water somewhere in the depths of the building.
On both sides, massive pillars and arches rose around you, seemingly holding the weight of the prayers of the Naiads. Even as one marvel at the beauty, a sense of unease settles over Alina. The shadows seem to deepen, and the whisper of draughts between the cold stones – whispering ancient secrets.
Goosebumps rippled across her skin, and it seemed as if her clothes did nothing to ward off the cold that seemed to settle into the marrow of Alina's bones.
She couldn't help but wonder if she had done the right thing – rescuing that man from himself from the depths of the forest. From himself, whether he would bring misfortune or blessings to their humble settlement.
She wrung her hands together, closing her eyes and bringing her clasped hands to her lips – grip tight around the protective pendant that hung from her neck.
Alina could only pray.