It was over. The night faded, and the stars had gone out. The Pool of Origin that rumbled with interest now peacefully rested.
"Can you understand us now?"
Drakefire asked in his native tongue.
Gwyn could understand the elf, but her lips felt foreign. Her tongue moved in her mouth, licking her teeth, checking their edges, flicking her tongue at the roof of her mouth, swallowing, and breathing. It all felt surreal, and yet, it wasn't. When she spoke, it was as if it were the first time.
"Yes."
Her voice was quiet. The sound coming from her mouth had surprised her. She spoke in their tongue without error.
"Good," the Head Whisperer said, relieved. "Thank the gods I don't have to speak that crude language I had to learn all those years ago!"
He laughed to himself, patting Kelvin on the back.
Kelvin wasn't laughing, however.
"So… I'm getting paid for this… right?"
"Not again…" Drakefire groaned. "Here, take—" He patted his nearly bare pockets. There wasn't a single coin to his name. "I'll notify you whenever I um…"
"Whatever… I'll take this as payment."
Kelvin walked over to Gwyn's clothes and snatched them up, briskly walking out of the cramped room.
"Hey!" Gwyn shouted, stumbling from the crater. "Those are mine!"
"Ignore him…" Drakefire said. "He has done his job."
"He snatched my favorite shirt!"
Gwyn was now entirely out of the crater. Realizing her bareness, she became embarrassed. A sudden ache in her chest sent her collapsing to the floor.
"W-why do I feel so…?"
"Empty?"
Gwyn nodded, trying to catch her breath. From foreign to routine, she became a completely different person in the blink of an eye. The desire, the want, the need—it all faded. A single tear fell from her eye.
"You have just soulbinded," Drakefire said plainly. "A soul sacrificed has been given a second chance to live again."
Gwyn faced the elder elf before her.
"But that's not the purpose of this, is it?"
"No," Drakefire said in a mournful tone. "That soul is now damned. To watch life through a mirror. Never experiencing, only observing. All to your benefit—so you can speak our language fluently."
Gwyn heard his words, but didn't comprehend the weight of them. She felt both connected and disconnected simultaneously.
"What was their name?"
"I do not know," Drakefire admitted. "Their soul becomes an indistinct wisp of magical energy once they are sacrificed."
Gwyn frowned. She wanted to know whoever, or whatever, it was that gave her another chance.
Drakefire appeared solemn.
"It's not only for your benefit."
Gwyn looked up from the ground.
"What do you mean?"
"They can dominate your soul, taking over the host; that is why those enter the Pool of Origin. It's all for a second chance. You… won, for lack of a better term."
Gwyn knelt and stared inside the crater. The soul fragments were almost childlike in their playfulness.
They tried to kill me? What kind of world… I mean… dream… is this?
Drakefire stared at Gwyn's bare body. It wasn't to admire her womanly figure, but to examine her magical potential. After a few moments.
"The Understanding nearly killed you. Your life is hanging by a thread, it seems."
Gwyn shot up thinking this was an incredibly rude way to relay information.
"What do you mean, 'it nearly killed me'?" She crossed her arms. "And are you going to get me some clothes or just going to gawk at me all day?"
Drakefire sighed.
"Let's just say you wouldn't have been the first Chosen One to die from that ritual."
Gwyn stared blankly, processing what he had just said.
"Did you say… first Chosen One?"
Gwyn repeated, unsure if she heard him correctly.
Drakefire looked anywhere but at Gwyn and made unsure noises.
"Did I say that?" He let out a nervous laugh. "No matter, no matter!" He suddenly became more jubilant. "Let's get you some clothing!"
Gwyn looked skeptical, but it was chosen one, after all, and not chosen many.
"I had a feeling this would happen."
Drakefire stepped to the side and grabbed Gwyn's new, culturally appropriate attire—a long, white dress with a dark brown waistband—neatly folded. He handed it to her. Simple shoes and a small piece of clothing lay on top.
Gwyn held up the piece of fabric.
"Is this a fucking bonnet?" She grimaced. "I'm not wearing that."
"Some people like the bonnet."
He lied.
Gwyn tossed the bonnet to the side.
"Not happening."
Drakefire despaired as the fabric flew through the air and landed in the Pool of Origin.
"The beautiful cone shape… the bow tied beneath a woman's chin… all gone…"
He spoke to the floor, a man defeated.
Gwyn gave him an incredulous look and asked him to turn, which he did. She quickly donned the elven clothes. They were sewn from what appeared to be cotton and felt comfortable, although this attire wasn't Gwyn's typical style.
Gwyn gave Drakefire an irritated look.
"No offense, but can this dress be black or… not white. Also… no underwear? Bra?"
"Ah, I forgot."
He reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a crumpled pair of white lace panties. He unfurled them, holding them in front of his face, and a moment later, they were as black as night.
Gwyn grimaced as he tossed them into her open hands.
"Thanks…" She said, smelling the panties to see if they were clean. No odor she could detect was present. "What about my dress? Can you make that black too?"
But he ignored her. Rummaging through a drawer obscured by darkness.
After a moment, he found what he was looking for and handed her a black, hooded robe. The inner hem had a sapphire jeweled pattern that dazzled in the chamber's blue glow. As she unfurled the robe, a second bonnet fell out. Gwyn raised her eyebrows at him, and he turned his head from her, whistling nonchalantly.
"Enough with the bonnets, dude."
Gwyn nudged the second bonnet into the pool.
He reached out for it, his face contorted in anguish.
"You have the power to bring the bonnet back, Gwynevere,"
Drakefire's desperation was... confusing.
What the fuck is this guy talking about?
"Riiiiiight… anyway." Gwyn turned from him as she flung the robe over her shoulders. "This is all a dream anyway, so. I'm just going to go and do some cool shit then wake up and turn in my project or whatever."
Drakefire then made a serious face. Wordlessly, he halted Gwyn's movements, and she was suddenly before him.
"This isn't a dream, Chosen One." He said firmly. "You have a purpose. You have to banish the Red Death."