A cloaked man was standing before him. His face was obscured, save for his lower half. The crazed grin on his lips somehow looked familiar.
"Wake up, sleepy head," he said, voice croaking as though it was weeks since he last spoke.
"Who are you?" Heon stared up at him. The top of his head didn't even reach the cloaked man's shoulders. Not that Heon was a short teenage boy; he wasn't. Just average height, nothing to crown about, but not that short either.
"Ah, it has only been three days since we last met, and you already forgot about me?" The cloaked man moaned, showing a hurtful expression Heon easily caught on his lower face.
"You–"
A cloaked man.
A dead body missing an arm.
Dripping blood.
He was inside the train that ran in a circle without stopping. For eternity, or so the cloaked man said.
Heon lurched with a balled fist aimed at the cloaked man's chest. It didn't collide with his ribs. His hand passed through. Heon stumbled, also passing the cloaked man's entire body. He stopped himself before his face plummeted to the ground.
But… there was no ground. There were no walls.
There was nothing.
Only Heon and the cloaked man, now laughing like a freak.
"Where am I?" Heon wondered if this was a dream. It would explain why he just went through a man's body only seconds ago.
"Yes, yes, this is a dream," the cloaked man nodded, answering Heon's unasked question. "And yes, I can read your mind, so can we get past that now? Because I have something more important you need to know."
Right.
Because Heon woke up in another realm, where magic existed, and there was a huge white tiger he had–
A sudden pain seared in his left hand. It was black again, up to his elbow this time. The white seams circling his forearm were a stark contrast, glaring in mockery at how easy it was for another person to just cut off his arm and attach a new one to him.
But how?
"Yes, how do you like your new arm? Marvelous, is it not?" The cloaked man invaded his thoughts. "I truly put all of my knowledge to get that arm attached nicely to you. The least you could do is say thanks."
Heon glared heatedly, "You're the one who cut off my arm in the first place, why should I thank you?"
"What an ungrateful boy," the cloaked man sighed. "If I did not do that, you could die in an instant. After all, it was the arm I got for you that saved you from the beast, am I wrong?"
The beast. So Heon didn't die as a huge tiger's meal.
"Care to explain what happened there?"
The cloaked man hummed, tapping his exposed chin with the tip of his blackened nail. "I could, but where is the fun in that?"
"So, what, I can force a beast to sit on its hind, now?"
"Among other things, yes. But really, magic is a curious thing. You have to dream big with magic if you want to use it to its fullest potential."
Heon frowned in confusion. "Surely, you don't mean to say that I only have to imagine what my magic could do for it to react, do you? That'd be a limitless possibility."
"Oh, are you sure about that?" The cloaked man said, chuckling in amusement.
He wanted to counter, saying it was impossible, but Heon couldn't open his mouth. His eyelids suddenly felt heavy, and some invisible force pulled him down and down.
Lying on his back, Heon forced his eyes to open again with a deep intake of breath.
"Oh, you're awake!"
Sunny's overly loud voice truly felt like a ray of sunshine blazing right in his eyes on a fine morning. He didn't like it.
Grumbling, Heon put a hand on his face, shielding his eyes from the manic boy's wide grin. "Get away from my face."
"You should be thankful to get a glimpse of my handsome face. It's a privilege not many can get in this short life." Sunny, just like how his name suggested, was a confident fellow.
"What happened to me?"
"Hm? Oh, you fainted for three days."
Heon lifted his hand, staring at the red-haired boy who merely blinked, not sensing anything strange from his sentence.
"Three days?" Heon asked, then repeated because it sounded so dumb even for him. "I've been passed out for three days?"
"Thanks to me, it's only three days. Shifas knows, you can be in a coma for longer, if not for my expert healing magic," Sunny grunted, getting up to his feet and stretching his arms up. "But, that's one hell of a power you got there. I'd gladly trade my ability with you."
"What ability?"
"Instant killing, of course!" Sunny grinned again, showing his rows of white teeth to him. "You broke all of the beast's bones, crumpling it like a paper until only a bloody mess of disfigured meat and broken bones left. I can't even get a Pasai from it. Not the meat, not the fangs and claws, and definitely not the fur."
Nausea hit hard.
Heon clutched his stomach. Sunny's flat words brought vivid imagery of the gruesome murder he had just done to the beast.
He had no idea.
No recollection.
Not a hint of what happened after the beast leapt towards him.
Nothing.
It was a blank of darkness. Which then turned into pure white when the cloaked man appeared out of a haze.
A short dream, but Sunny said he passed out for three days. From his stinky body odor, that sounded about right.
Looking around, Heon noticed that he was once again in the abandoned house Sunny claimed as his own. It was not exactly clean, but it was many times better than being stuck in the forest.
"Here," the red-haired boy said, holding out a bowl of something steaming. "I have to work. Don't wander off, okay?"
Heon accepted the bowl, peering down at the soup. He brought a spoon of the gooey liquid to his mouth, tasting it. Knowing the manic boy could cook this well was a bit of a surprise.
Finishing the meal in no time, Heon rose to his feet and paced around. He needed to shower and wash the bowl. It was only polite to do so.
Although recognizing it as the abandoned house where he met Sunny that first time around, he didn't know the layout. Strolling tentatively, Heon tried to make no sound. After all, the red-haired boy said not to wander off. He just didn't want to trigger Sunny's murderous self again.
Getting through the door – it was truly a door this time, not a hole in the wall he entered before – Heon was greeted with murmuring sounds a little to the right.
Curious, Heon ambled towards the noise.
There, near the wooden gate in front of the house, several people gathered. Some of them looked sick. Sweaty, pale skin and dropping eyes. The others, who looked healthy but almost enough to be categorized as malnourished, seemed to be there as a company.
Slowly making way towards the front of the house, Heon peered inside from the doorway.
Sunny donned his red and white kitsune mask. He sat on the floor, palms glowing green like the shiny jade beads he wore as he healed the old woman's bristled hands.
"You should be more careful, Ma'am," Sunny gently said, caressing the old woman's palms after he was done healing her. "You have many sons, why do you keep working in the field?"
"How else can I get meals on the table? My sons are useless, only know how to eat and play around with girls," the old woman smiled. "Unlike you. Oh, I really shouldn't rant my problem to you, should I? It's bad enough that I keep seeing you each week to heal my stiff hands and bristles. I'm so sorry for that."
"It's fine, Ma'am, no problem at all. Besides, I also get to eat your legendary soup. More than enough for me to keep running this clinic."
Heon hummed in understanding. Although, something fishy was happening. Sunny didn't act like the manic boy Heon knew him to be.
No sneering cackles, no laughing fit, no frenzied behavior. It felt unsettling.
"Help! I need a healer!"
Heon was startled, turning around to see a girl running towards the door. A man, two times her size, was propped on her back. Even so, the girl didn't look weighed down at all. She moved with grace. Swift as a leaf blown by the wind.
"He's dying!"
"Sunny!" Heon called, and the masked manic boy rose to his feet.
They brought the man to lie on the floor where Sunny previously sat. Seeing this commotion, the old woman retreated outside, though she was still peering inside the door frame with the other queuing patients.
"What happened?" Sunny asked as he checked the unconscious man's pulse and temperature without any medical tool.
"He threw up several times since last night. Then, he said his stomach hurt, like, really, really hurt. He didn't know what happened. But I think he was poisoned."
"Okay, don't worry. I can extract the poison in no time."
"Will you, really?"
"Yes, it's easy to do so."
The girl looked straight at the holes on the kitsune mask, right where Sunny's eyes were supposed to be. "As easy as how you poisoned him?"
"What are you talking about?" Sunny's pointed out, "A man is dying–"
"And you're the one who caused it." The girl grabbed Sunny's hand in what looked like a death grip. "Sunny Graver, you are under arrest for the murder of two innocent women and one ten-year-old boy, as well as attempted murder on the bar keeper here."
"Oh?" Sunny didn't seem surprised.