Tick.
Aeden's eyes fluttered open in overwhelming panic, his heart throbbing madly. He looked around in erratic movements, pushed by endless pulses of adrenaline.
Tock.
However, he quickly realized that there was nothing dangerous. Rather, he couldn't see any immediate threat. Thick fog covered his surroundings, clouding even the rest of his senses.
'Where am I?'
Tick.
"Playground number 142." An elderly voice startled him. It came from right beside him; an older woman sat on a wooden stool, calmy knitting her own hair amidst complete nothingness. How could he have missed her?
Tock.
'Who's she? One of the Fae perhaps?' Multiple questions stifled his clarity. He was still in shock.
"I am this Playground's Overseer."
"Huh?" Confusion crept in. "Was I thinking out loud?"
Tick.
"Thoughts toll like bells in places with such Mana density. Yours blur between chaotic mumblings but are very much audible." The Overseer's small, wrinkled hands skillfully weaved greyish locks in a specific shape, slowly crafting a sun clock. Focused brown eyes hid under a dark-blue cloak, shrouding her petite body while she worked.
"Why can't I hear yours then?"
"For someone unable to comprehend his own mind, you seem awfully interested in discerning that of others."
Tock.
"Tsk," he clicked his tongue. "Where are my friends? What did you mean by playground? Answer me!"
"Poor demented thing," Aeden could almost sense pity in her tone, which angered him even more. "Lost in a crazed haze, you cling desperately to that feeble thread of sanity."
Tick.
She sighed, putting down her pattern. Then, without looking, she pointed a skeletal finger at the earring Nathan gave him. "I'll take that as a payment."
"Payment for what?" The Sorcerer finally snapped. "Get me out of here, or else, I'll burn y-..."
"How tragic," the old woman interrupted. "I see that madness was of no Fae creation."
Tock.
That simple sentence froze him mid-spell, eyes still glimmering with the luster of bloodthirst. When did he become so violent and impulsive? He was threatening her with no other reason than mere annoyance. Weren't there other options? Gleaning more information ought to be his priority.
Muffled screams tried to crush his wits, much more unhinged than the sweet whispers he was used to. Fighting them resulted in painful, imaginary stabs that made his head pound from agony.
Nevertheless, he remained lucid.
Tick.
"I'll give you the earring, but I need to know what I am paying for." Aeden took off the Ombre's gift, throwing it towards the Overseer.
She swiftly snatched it from the air, gazing intently at it. "For your life, of course."
"What?!"
Tock.
"You attacked these grounds in your savage frenzy, thus offending their Lord. Thank the good fortune that blessed you with this gift, for you would've been dead without it." Putting the artifact away, the old woman resumed her knitting.
"Right, I see. And may I know what his domain is? You've been calling it 'playground'."
Tick.
"Oh," she smiled for the first time, revealing rotting teeth. "I believe you call them 'Mana Biomes' outside."
The fog suddenly thickened, and his vision blurred. His legs couldn't find footing anymore, and he plummeted down a darkened void.
Flickering sparks merged and dispersed chaotically during his fall, coalescing into a single, viridescent sheen at the end of the colorless abyss.
Tock.
As soon as he reached that light… his eyes opened once again, snatching him up from oblivion.
__
Pungent smells assaulted Aeden's nostrils while bizarre liquids stuck to his body, forcing him awake.
All he could see was green.
Ashes, elms and birches actively twisted and danced in sinuous movements, one moment expanding and the next shrinking.
Viscous water tightly held his feet together, climbing up his limbs as if it had a mind of its own. He thought of using an Enhancement spell, but simply channeling Mana through his legs made him quickly regret that decision.
The air strangely vibrated, madly pulsating before explosions erupted all around him. Sudden detonations swept him across half of the swamp he woke up in, making him crash against the nearby arborescence.
"Ugh!" The impact barely hurt the Sorcerer, though it was still disorienting. "What's this place? The ambient Mana is so erratic… even basic spellcasting is a struggle."
It was then that he noticed; the bark was suckling on his armor like a starved beast, with tiny wooden maws trying to reach his skin. 'How-... Why?'
Aeden jerked himself away in a panicked leap, ducking at an incoming branch. Creaks followed his hasty dodge, only for the tree's bough to wrestle itself out of the ground and slam on him like a hammer.
The young man rolled in time, glancing at the parting vegetation with each step he made.
It was odd, almost like a fever dream.
Everything was moving weirdly. The uncanny wetland was, for some reason, actively trying to hurt him.
"What's happening?" he absently muttered, trying to overcome his settling dizziness.
"You're in the Swamp Dame's domain," A feminine voice came from behind him. "She's sleeping right now, so you can't see her."
He turned to see a woman around his age, hanging upside-down from slithering lianas.
She waved at him, her light brown hair flowing amidst the verdure. "Agility is key here, though Wood Dancers aren't usually this tenacious. You must've really annoyed him."
Aeden took time registering her mocking tone as he evaded another furious strike from the moving elm. It relentlessly pressed the chase, pushing him further and further away from its side of the marsh.
Once the Sorcerer backed to the shallow water, the tree stopped attacking. Instead, it showcased its thickest branches in a display of dominant pride before rejoining its swaying peers.
"By the Triscelus…" The young man sighed, baffled by such a sight.
The newcomer nimbly landed on her feet. "I'm Enidra, by the way, and you probably shouldn't stand there too long."
"What do you mea-..." Viscid liquid rose again in rapid waves, taking him by surprise. It whirled him right and left like a ragdoll, then threw him up the bog to Enidra's side.
He landed pitifully, the damage mainly done to his pride. If he could, he would've already incinerated that accursed swamp. Yet as it stood, Aeden would burn with it should he use any spellcraft.
"And you, what's your name?" She sneered, clearly mocking his state.
"Aeden," he stood up, spitting in the water due to pure pettiness. Afterward, he stared at the young woman, looking for any threat.
Despite being around Aeden's age, her stature reminded him more of Decima, albeit much smaller. She was relatively thin with lean muscles, fair skin, and messy hair. Her facial traits were somewhat rough. Hardened by a difficult life, perhaps? It was different from Numidean inherent warrior-like bearing or Cochlinian grace, though; her expression was no artificial mask. It was a pure, unfiltered condensate of emotions.
For now, he had no reason to distrust her.
"I just woke up in the middle of the swamp, with no memory of how I ended up here. Can you tell me where I am?"
"Huh?" Her eyes widened. They were a mesmerizing shade of green.
"If you don't know where you are…" Enidra hesitated a little bit before continuing. "You should leave. This place isn't safe for outsiders."
"Wait, did you meet other strangers here too? Two girls and a boy, their clothing should be similar to mine."
"No, sorry… You really need to go. Please." Her gaze flickered around. She was hiding something.
"I can't. I need to find my friends first. Also, I don't know how to leave anyway, so I'm stuck here for now."
"This isn't good. Not good. Nooooot good!" The woman bit her thumb. "Alright, you can come with me, but you need to promise me something. You'll do anything I say."
"Why should I? That's a weird thing to demand from a person you just met."
"You're a spellcaster, isn't it? I saw you try to blast away Wicky. Your kind is unable to use their powers here. It'll be dangerous." Her tone was ominous. "Especially at night, when the Swamp Dame awakens. You'll die if you don't trust me."
"Swamp Dame…? Hey, wait!" She started walking, and he followed. "Where are we going?"
"We're in the Wetlands. There's only one destination available, obviously: Luascach, the Swamp-vill."
__
"What do you mean they lost him?!" The Ombre's roar echoed across the hollowed halls, his fury directed towards a single person.
"The Fae were tricky, mon Seigneur. They led Louise away, making her avert her gaze for only a moment… then took advantage of her absence to meddle with the child." Nathan was bowing to his lord.
"We selected Louise exactly to avoid situations like these! That accursed meathead had one mission, A SINGLE ONE!" Tristan tapped his throne, and a powerful shockwave shook the entire room. "She's supposed to have the most experience against them. How did she get baited so easily?"
"I believe she had gotten information from one of Jean's subordinates about the Fae's location."
"Aquila? Since when does he concern himself with what happens outside his little atelier?"
"I do not know. According to him, the Fae were last seen in the Kiroho rainforests."
"Umoja…? Tsk." He massaged his temples, hoping to get rid of his headache. "This isn't the time. Sa Majesté asked us to be careful for now. Knowing him, it certainly has something to do with the Primordial he just brought down. There are forces on the move, Nathan. Primordials were last sighted during the Profane War, and they disappeared entirely since then… At least, until the Lord of Mephitism made his presence known in Numidea."
"Rumors say that he was already wounded when intercepted, which is why we sustained no casualties. Was it perhaps Ursa Major?"
"Ursa told me that he was already injured when she had fought him. Someone capable of draining such a being to that extent…" he muttered that last phrase in a whispered voice, lost in thought. "We need the key now more than ever. Tell Andromeda to find Damara's son even if she has to search the entirety of Occidia. For now, I can't summon more helpers. Bringing down the Primordial stretched us too thin. She'll have to make do with what she has. You're dismissed."
"Entendu, mon Seigneur." Nathan exited the chamber in hurried steps, his smile barely concealed.
On his way down the castle's stairs, an earring the shape of a Crux dangled between his slender fingers.
"One hundred and forty-two," he murmured in stifled tones.