Whispers.
He woke up to the endless chatter in front of the flickering, crackling fire of the campfire. His eyes were glued to the book in his hand. His nose was starting to sting as he heard his companions bickering and fighting over food. His fingertips gently stroked the cover of the book and felt its rough edges. He thought bitterly, who would have thought that this adventure would turn out so badly. He closed his eyes tightly, praying that this wasn't just a fleeting dream.
Suddenly, a voice caught his attention.
"Hey, what are you reading?"
He quickly lifted his head from the pages. He remembered this voice. Over his shoulder, pink strands of hair brushed past, leaving a faint scent. But he saw it and quickly avoided it, stammering, "It's De-Decavalon and uses the magic system."
"Sounds good."
A rustling sound rang out behind him. He was silent, shyly listening to the person approaching him. But when he glanced over, he was shocked to see that the pink hair on his shoulders had long been covered in mud. His shoulders were immediately pressed down by a pair of bloody hands.
"You still have the mood to read books, after killing me?" the person growled.
He was pushed back, the bloody hands pressed his shoulders to the ground and quickly strangled his neck. He struggled with difficulty, trying to pull the other person's hands away. Under his feet, other pairs of hands crawled up his body like leeches. Their nails dug deep into his cloak and flesh, pulling him down to the water's surface. Under the cold water, sounds surrounded him like predatory fish, they moaned, screamed, and growled:
"I shouldn't have gone on this adventure with you."
"You're just a beautiful burden."
"You're a coward, Ark."
"Archilleous, you're a murderer!"
He woke up.
It was that nightmare again. He was panting, his whole body covered in cold sweat. He tried to calm his breathing and rubbed the curly black hair on his forehead, habitually scratching it to cover his left eye.
Around him was the familiar ceiling and bed. Next to the headboard was a small cabinet, on top of which was a basin containing bloody bandages. He touched the hole in his chest, which was now tightly bandaged with layers of cloth. Who was it...?
Am I... not dead yet?
Outside the room, there was the sound of objects falling, followed by hurried footsteps. The doorknob was turned and the door opened. No wonder this room looked so familiar. Standing in front of the door, a cat woman gasped at him. She was Yvette, the one who had grown up with him since childhood. And this room was also her room.
Seeing him, Yvette covered her face with both hands. She was so happy that she burst into tears, her two legs faltering as she approached him, silently exclaiming, "Ark. Is it you? You're awake."
Seeing the other person staring at her blankly, she sniffled, "Thank God. You're awake. You're still alive." And found a place to sit next to him on the bed.
"How lucky." She frowned, tearfully looking at him. Her two ears drooped. Her mouth repeated her words like a broken machine, "These past two years, you're still alive..."
Yvette's face was burning; tears that she couldn't hold back streamed down. She tried to keep her composure through her tears. The day before, when she heard a loud noise in the warehouse next door, she immediately rushed over. It wasn't because she was afraid of someone breaking in. She wasn't afraid of anyone. But she was afraid that it wouldn't be him. She frantically rushed into the warehouse that had already opened its door, waving her arms to sweep away the thick smoke. And in the warehouse, he was lying against the wall of the room, covered in blood and his chest had been ripped open, revealing a white skeleton.
She didn't remember what happened after that. She remembered hugging his gradually cooling body, screaming his name until her voice was hoarse. Even as her parents and Aunt Miriam tended to his wounds, she silently prayed day and night for him to wake up.
"Ark, you're awake, hic." She burst into tears, hugging herself with both hands, her whole body curled up. The words in her sobs were distorted and hard to understand. She clumsily wiped away her tears in vain, crying and blaming him, "I thought you were dead! If you came home, you should have told me! Do you know how worried the family was about you?"
Ark pondered. Looking at her crying, he could clearly feel the pain in his chest, but he couldn't tell which wound it was. Yvette was sobbing for him. It was his fault for abandoning her, and the whole family. He wanted to pat her shoulder to ease her pain. But would that help? Or would that make them trust him again, someone who wasn't even their blood? And then when he betrayed them again, they had to continue hugging his body and crying. They would cry for him again, even though he had done them wrong... even though he might not be alive anymore.
His nose was starting to sting. It was a miracle that he was still alive.
Ark reached out, but pulled his hand back halfway. Maybe it was better to let them gradually distance themselves from him.
But Yvette noticed. She immediately grabbed his hand and pulled it back. She frowned, hastily wiping away her tears and snot with her hands and tail, which were all over her dirty face. Her hand squeezed his hand gently. She looked at him, at the scars all over his body, and anxiously urged, "Ark. Don't keep everything to yourself anymore. I know that expression of yours. I know you're still hurt, especially after Sylv and after... that adventure. But you're still my family. And no matter what happens, we'll always be family. Okay?"
Ark looked at her, his whole body stiffening from the warmth of that hand. But before he could say anything, Yvette slapped his hand hard. He was startled and quickly withdrew his hand in her laughter. "Don't worry. We'll have a great meal tonight. Because our adventurer is back, alive and well! But that doesn't mean you can leave again without saying anything."
Yvette quickly fixed her disheveled clothes. She sniffed, not forgetting to carefully wipe away her wet tail feathers after being used as a rag. She spoke, busily pacing back and forth around the room, constantly reminding him as she always did.
"I'll go to the blacksmith shop now. We have a few more people from Aleph coming back to learn the trade, so I'll go over and guide them. I'll tell Aunt and Uncle March that you've woken up. They're on the wall dealing with some business, but I'm sure they'll be back tomorrow. When I get back, I'll buy a lot of delicious food for you and your companion, he's in the living room. Besides, I've thrown away your tattered robe. This is your old robe, it still looks like a bathrobe with a string, doesn't it?"
Yvette pointed to the hanger, on which were the old robe he used to wear and the clean Wisdom Hat, "I washed them yesterday."
It wasn't until the front door was closed that he stopped hearing Yvette's voice. She was still as dedicated as ever. Ark sighed, tilting his head to look at the window. Birds were chirping continuously on the grass in the garden in front of the window and opposite was the warehouse that was now full of cracks and a ruined ceiling.
He tried to recall the incident and groaned when the wound on his chest throbbed when he tried to move. He lightly pressed on the wound and felt it was dented a bit. It would probably take a long time before he could recover to normal. About two, three days?
He then suddenly remembered the important purpose, the thing he had to do as soon as he came here: The resurrection ritual! Ark turned his head towards the door. Yvette said he was going back with a companion, and that person was currently in the living room?
Ark endured the pain and stood up, reaching for and putting on a nearby cloak. Although he was nervous, the pain from his wound helped him calm down somewhat. Could what they called a miracle really happen? He put on his hat, walked to the hallway, and silently called out: "Alice".
The hallway in front of the living room stretched forward. In front of Ark were two sofas in the living room placed opposite each other. Through the magic circuits, he felt the warmth and heartbeat lingering right here, on the sofa with its back turned to him. The sound was steady and repeated, pounding.
We've come a long way together. A long way.
Ark dragged his heavy steps forward, shortening the distance between them. Nothing else mattered now, because Alice had returned.
Ark looked over the back of the chair. In fact, from where he stood, he could easily see Alice at her past height. But without thinking much, he grabbed the chair frame and poked his head over.
Contrary to his expectations, on the sofa was a twelve-year-old boy with platinum pink hair and rabbit ears sleeping soundly. But he knew that it wasn't a rabbit, but the result of fusion. Yes, it should have been the Fusion Ritual.
And that also meant, he had succeeded!
Alice had come back to life, he had turned Alice back into a boy!
Wait... Alice had turned back into...
Ark froze on the spot. His eyes widened. The confusion now felt like an electric current circulating through his body. His face gradually lost its rosy color, leaving a pale white. Gravity was like weights pulling his body down. He trembled, trying to hold on to the chair frame to keep his balance, but it seemed like the house and everything around him was starting to move as well.
His mouth fell open. The sobbing in him drummed with his heartbeat and the hot smoke blew past his ears.
Oh no...
His eyes darted and his breathing seemed to become more labored as he struggled to keep his composure. No, no, it couldn't be. He collapsed. He covered his mouth, backing away in disbelief. Through the sweat, he gasped for air, the world stopped. His body went numb as if an electric current had run through it. Sharp images of the past kept flooding into his head. His nails dug into his scalp and he cried, No, no, no, this can't be happening.
In the heavy silence of the room, a rustling sound came from the sofa.