Luna was sitting on the floor beside the cocoon, swaying slightly as she counted out loud.
"Fifty seven... fifty eight... fifty nine..."
She was counting flower petals. It was a game she had invented for herself days ago, counting how many new flowers had bloomed since the last time she checked.
Normally at this hour, she would be outside playing with the other village children. Running through the fields, climbing trees, inventing elaborate games.
But not anymore.
Luna remembered clearly the day, three days ago, when she had gone to join her usual group of friends. Tam, Ella, Mika, Sara, children she had played with forever.
But when she approached, their parents were there. And she had heard.
"I don't want you playing with her," Sara's mother was saying, holding her daughter's hand firmly. "The girl brings bad luck. Always has."
"But mom," Sara had protested.
"No argument. Ever since her parents disappeared, bad things happen around her. And now with those other mystics appearing, the attack... No. You stay away."
Luna had stood there, a few meters away, hearing every word. Watching Sara look at her with guilt before being dragged away.
The other parents had said similar things.
"Mystics are dangerous."
"They attract trouble."
"Better keep your distance."
So Luna stopped trying. Stopped seeking out the other children. Because what was worse than being alone was being near people who didn't want you there.
"Sixty three... sixty four..."
Now she spent most of the day here, in Aldric's house, beside the cocoon. Gareth wouldn't let her go into the forest anymore, not even with him, let alone alone. He said it was too dangerous, that if she got lost again or encountered another Abyssal...
Luna understood. But she also hated it.
And Aldric was always busy now. Ever since that merchant came with his frightening news, the elder was hardly home. Always going from place to place, organizing things, talking to people in serious tones.
So Luna stayed alone.
Well, not completely alone.
"Konstant," she said to the cocoon, as if he could hear her. "Today I counted sixty seven new flowers. That's a lot! Soon it'll be completely covered. I think when they've all bloomed, you'll wake up. At least that's what I'm hoping."
She adjusted her position, crossing her legs and propping her chin on her hands. "Everyone is scared now. Because of the news about war and Abyssals attacking everywhere. But I was already scared before, so..." she gave a small shrug. "Didn't change much for me."
The cocoon pulsed softly, that constant rhythm that had become familiar. Luna placed her hand on the surface, feeling the strange texture, part plant, part something else.
"Some people say you and the others brought the Abyssals," she continued conversationally. "But that's nonsense. The Abyssals were always there. They're what took my parents. Before you even arrived. So it can't be your fault."
She traced the outline of one of the flowers with her finger. "Gareth says scared people say stupid things. That I shouldn't mind. But it's hard not to mind when they look at you like you're..." she searched for the right word, "like you're something bad."
Luna sighed, lying on her side on the floor, still looking at the cocoon. "I wish you would wake up. I wish things would go back to normal. Well, not normal normal because normal was before my parents disappeared and that's never coming back. But at least the kind of normal where I had friends and didn't spend the whole day talking to myself."
She closed her eyes for a moment, the emotional exhaustion catching up to her. She hadn't slept well in days. Nightmares about that night in the forest, about the Grusk trying to reach her, about seeing Konstant fall...
A sound made her open her eyes.
It wasn't loud. Just a faint crack, like a twig.
Luna sat up immediately, alert. The sound had come from the cocoon.
She watched it intently, heart speeding up. For a moment, nothing. Just the usual soft pulse, the flowers swaying slightly in a breeze that didn't exist.
Then it happened.
A glow.
It started small, just a single flower at the base of the cocoon, near where Konstant's feet should be. The flower, which had been closed in a tight bud, began to glow with a soft, golden light.
Luna held her breath.
The light spread. Like falling dominoes, every flower around that one began to glow too. Then the next ones. And the next ones. In seconds, the entire cocoon was illuminated, each individual flower shining like a tiny star.
"Beautiful," Luna whispered, awestruck.
But it didn't stop there.
The flowers began to open.
One by one, then dozens at once, then hundreds, all the flowers that had been closed began to bloom simultaneously. Petals unfurling, revealing bright centers that pulsed with golden light.
The entire room flooded with light.
Luna had to close her eyes, raising her hands to shield her face. But even through her closed eyelids, even through her hands, she could see the glow. It was like looking directly at the sun.
And there was a sweet, fresh smell, like condensed spring. Flowers, fresh earth, green growth. It filled her lungs, made her head spin slightly.
The light grew stronger, more intense, until Luna thought she couldn't bear it anymore.
Then, as abruptly as it began, it stopped.
The light vanished as if someone had blown out a candle. The room plunged back into normal lighting, the soft afternoon sunlight coming through the window.
Luna blinked rapidly, spots dancing in her vision. It took several seconds for her eyes to adjust, to see properly.
And when she finally could, her heart stopped.
The cocoon was gone.
Not completely, there were remnants of it, black and green fragments scattered across the bed like discarded husks. But the main structure, that solid capsule that had enveloped Konstant for weeks, had completely split apart.
And in its place...
"Wh... who are you?" Luna whispered, her voice coming out tremulous.
******
Konstant was running.
He didn't know for how long. He didn't know if he was actually running or just felt like he was running. Time had no meaning here. Distance had no meaning. Nothing had meaning except the desperate need to keep moving.
Because if he stopped, that thing would reach him.
The purple mist.
It was always present, always at his side, a sinister presence that pulsed with fury and resentment. This was no ordinary mist. It wanted to consume him, devour him, erase his existence completely.
He vaguely remembered when it all began. Waking in this empty, formless place, surrounded by that purple mist that immediately began to envelop him. He remembered the pain, sharp, penetrating, as if every cell of his body were being slowly dissolved.
The first thing that came to mind was the Abyssal corruption. It had to be. The same energy that touched his forehead when the Borak attacked.
How long had it held him? Hours? Days? There was no way to know. But at some point, the mist had let go. Just for a second, a momentary distraction or weakness.
And Konstant hadn't wasted the opportunity. He had run.
And kept running.
His feet, or whatever served as feet in this place, beat against nothingness, propelling him forward through the infinite darkness. There was no ground, no sky, no horizon. Just black void in every direction, and that damned purple mist always chasing.
He couldn't see, not in the traditional sense. There was no light here. But somehow, he perceived the mist. Felt its presence, its nearness. And it was getting closer.
Always closer.
Have to keep going, he thought desperately. Can't stop. If it catches me again...
He didn't finish the thought. He didn't need to. The memory of that pain was enough.
So he ran. And ran. And ran.
There was no sound here. His screams produced no echo. His breathing made no noise. When he tried to speak, move his lips, nothing came out. It was like being deaf and mute simultaneously, trapped in absolute vacuum.
The sensory deprivation was beginning to affect his mind. With no visual references, no sounds, no real touch, just constant motion through nothingness, his thoughts began to fragment, to drift.
How much time had passed? Minutes? Hours? Weeks?
No, he forced himself to focus. Can't go mad. Not here. Not now.
But it was hard. So hard.
Sometimes, he saw things at the corners of his perception. Shadows that shouldn't exist in a place with no light. Shapes that dissolved when he tried to touch them. He heard whispers that weren't really there, echoes of memories or hallucinations produced by a stimulus deprived brain.
He was starting to hallucinate. He knew it. But he couldn't stop.
And then, something changed.
It was so faint he almost missed it. Not exactly a sound. More like a vibration. A sense that something other than him and the mist existed in this empty place.
Konstant paused for a fraction of a second, turning his perception toward the sensation.
The purple mist immediately drew closer, trying to take advantage of his hesitation.
He resumed running, but now with a purpose. Toward that mysterious vibration.
As he moved, the sensation grew stronger. And then, impossibly but undeniably, he heard a voice.
Distant. Distorted. Like a badly tuned radio. But definitely a voice.
"fifty seven... fifty eight"
Konstant almost stumbled. A voice. A real voice!
He launched himself toward it, desperate. The purple mist roared behind him, if mist could roar, but he didn't care. There was something here besides darkness and corruption. There was a connection.
The voice disappeared. Konstant kept running in the direction he had heard it, hoping, praying for it to return.
Silence.
More silence.
Then, like a gift, he heard again:
"sixty three... sixty four"
It was clearer now. Still distant, still distorted, but he could make out the cadence. It was a young voice. Female. Counting something.
Luna, a distant part of his mind recognized. It's Luna.
The revelation filled him with renewed energy. If he could hear Luna, it meant he was connected to the outside world somehow. It meant he wasn't completely lost in this void.
It meant there was a way out.
He ran faster, ignoring the exhaustion building in muscles that might not even exist. Luna's voice came and went, appearing at irregular intervals. Each time clearer, as if he were tuning an old radio.
"Konstant, today I counted sixty seven new flowers"
Clearer. Much clearer.
And then he saw it.
To his left, where before there had been only darkness, now there was a point of light. Small, the size of a pinhead, but bright and unmistakable.
Green.
A vibrant, living green that seemed completely out of place in this place of death.
Konstant didn't think. He just acted. He turned sharply, throwing himself toward that green light with everything he had.
The purple mist, sensing his intent, surged forward too. He could feel it right behind, trying to grab him, pull him back into the void.
But he was faster. Had to be faster.
The green point grew as he approached. And Luna's voice became clearer and clearer.
"Everyone is scared now. Because of the news about war and Abyssals"
He could hear every word now. Could feel the emotion in her voice, loneliness, fear, fragile hope.
"Some people say you and the others brought the Abyssals, but that's nonsense"
Konstant couldn't help it. Even running for his life, even with corruption chasing him, he laughed mentally. Of course. Even here, Luna can fire off a word machine gun.
The green point was now the size of a fist. Then a head. Then large enough to dive through.
"I wish you would wake up. I wish things would go back to normal"
I'm trying, Konstant thought fervently. I'm trying, Luna. Just wait a little longer.
He reached the green and touched the surface with what felt like his hand.
It wasn't solid. It was more like water, or mist, but warm and welcoming instead of cold. And the moment he touched it, he knew.
It was life. Growth. Pure, uncorrupted nature.
It was the opposite of the purple mist.
Konstant didn't hesitate. He dove, throwing himself through the green barrier.
Behind him, the purple mist collided with the barrier and recoiled, as if it had touched something painful. He heard, or felt, a shriek of frustration and rage.
But he didn't care. Because he was on the other side now.
And he could feel.
His real body began to return. This wasn't just a consciousness floating in the void. There was weight again. Substance. He was lying on something soft. Could feel texture against his skin. Could feel temperature.
And he could hear Luna perfectly now, as if she were right beside him.
"But it's hard not to mind when they look at you like you're something bad"
His fingers twitched. He tried to open his eyes.
Couldn't.
He tried to speak. His throat was dry and rough from disuse, but he forced the words out.