"My Lady, it's time to wake up."
A soft female voice echoed, rousing the sleeping figure under the duvet.
"My Lady."
"Five more minutes," the sleeping person grunts, shifting her body onto her other side. A minute later, her eyes opened widely.
'Who just spoke to me? The thought echoed in her mind. I'm not at a friend's place for a sleepover nor did I get drunk last night. Of course, I drank a little too much out of excitement because my family is out for a week.'
"My Lady, you'll be late for breakfast." Another female voice spoke.
Now she was terrified. The bed was soft and it smelled like roses. My bed doesn't have the scent of roses, it has a–
Having adjusted, her eyes and now observed every corner of the room. Large windows with a pale table cloth pulled over the study table, books elegantly arranged by color and size. The room looked antique and tidier than hers ever did.
Her eyeballs raised and were met with high crafted ceilings. Lamps were located in each corner. She sat frozen, nothing moving but her eyeballs, when it clicked. This is not my room. 'Where am I?'
"My Lady."
There was the voice again and she didn't recognize it. Her body shifted again and finally sat up in unwillingness.
"Good morning, My Lady."
Two ladies in a simple yet elegant uniform stood at the side of her bed and bowed.
She stared. Did I end up in some rich tycoon's mansion? I don't recall any of my friends being this rich. It wasn't what they were wearing that said rich, but what was behind and around them.
"My Lady," one of the women, who was in her 50s, spoke in a little concerned voice. "You'll be late for an early meal. Everyone has arrived."
"Tell them they can start their morning meal without me," she spoke unconsciously. Her mind was still blank. She didn't know anyone here.
"My Lady, your presence is needed. The emperor wouldn't be pleased with your behaviour."
'Emperor who? What the?'
The maids exchanges worried glances. She said with a sigh, "Give me a minute." The two women left with relieved expressions on their faces.
"Where the hell am I?" She hurriedly jumped out of bed and dashed towards the window. Maybe she could have escaped through the window, if she weren't on the fourth story. She couldn't possibly have jumped or climbed down with a makeshift rope of clothes. This wasn't an action movie. No matter where she looked, nothing was familiar. The endless courtyard of the mansion stretched far and wide. All of this made her completely confused. Further out, all she could see were mountains and trees.
She kept pacing back and forth until her steps paused in front of the tall mirror. "Who?" Her eyes widen at the reflection. She walked forward, pinching her cheeks. It wasn't a dream.
A tall, slim, fair lady with smooth flawless skin; silky lemon blond hair that flows onto her shoulders, and light peach crystal eyes with plumb pink lips. This wasn't her.
"Who?" she uttered again. Her head throbbed as though somebody was hammering at her skull until she fell into unconsciousness.
.
.
A sleeping figure grunted under the sheet. It smelled like detergent. She smiled drowsily." It was just a dream." Her smile widened. She was on her bed, getting ready to leave it any moment now.
She sat up, stretched her arms, and froze mid yawn.
"Yawn–Eh! Huh?"
She wasn't in her room. All she saw were endless clouds in every corner.
"Heh."
What was going on with this weird dream? For a minute she was not herself nor in her room. When she laid eyes on familiar ebony hair, she knew she was herself again. However, she was no longer in her room. Only the bed was hers.
"Am I dead?" She spoke with a tilted head. "Or is this a dream within a dream?"
"Good morning, chosen human one," a voice came from behind the cloud. A figure who looked both feminine and masculine all at once appeared in a suit. "You are not dead."
Said person held a tray with tea and biscuits on it. He placed the tray on a table made of clouds which appeared with the snap of his fingers. "Please, have your breakfast, chosen human one."
The lady was still puzzled, unable to differentiate between reality and dream.
"Why doesn't this feel like a dream?" She pinches her arms and it stings. This wasn't a dream, but she was still pinching her arms.
"Because this is not a dream." The butler pulled the chair out for her and gestured for her to have a seat.
"I haven't brushed my teeth yet."
She responded, finally releasing her hand from pinching any further.
Some people don't like to have breakfast without a wash-up or a shower and she was one of them.
"My apologies." The butler smiled and snapped his fingers. In a second, the lady was free from bedhead, morning breath, and an unwashed face.
"Now, your breakfast." He gestured again, pulling out the chair.
'This person is so insistent on me having breakfast.'
Nevertheless, she finally got out of the bed and walked towards the chair to sit down for breakfast. Her feet felt a little ticklish under the soft floor. She was about to spread her thick lips until she thought 'wait, what am I doing?'
"Who are you? And where am I?"
The butler chuckled and poured her tea from the pot. "About time."
The lady didn't respond which made the butler continue.
"Alright, you have been chosen to take part in a world created by writers. And we are here to ful–"
"Excuse me, what?" She interrupted, hoping she didn't hear it wrong.
"As I said, you have been chosen to be one of the characters in a book created by humans."
"…."
She responded with a stare, a look which meant do you take me for a fool?
The Butler understood and smiled. "Well then, I hope this will make it clear."
Before she could blink, the butler's hand moved so swiftly that she almost missed it. Realization came over her. Her stomach stung. Slowly, she raised her hand to her stomach. She couldn't breathe, it hurt even more with the delicate puff.
"Y… You…"
She didn't need to look down when she could feel a thick, warm fluid flowing from beneath the hand that held her distressing belly. The butler grinned, holding a silver butter knife now coated with blood. His white gloves were stained red too.
Her body gave up and finally dropped to the floor, losing consciousness for the second time.
*Gasp!*
She woke up with beads of sweat all over her head. It was a nightmare, worse than any nightmare she had ever had. It felt too real.
"It wasn't a nightmare and you are awake, again." The butler's voice made it clear to her mind, which was in turmoil. She was alive. The pain and the blood that should be present on her clothes and the floor were no more. She should be grateful, but in what way? The butler was preparing the table as though nothing had happened.
She sprung out of the bed with a frantic look on her face.
"You." Her hand pointed at him. It was rude, but she didn't care.
"You wouldn't believe it if I told you in another way. Now you know it's real."
The butler responded, knowing what she was thinking. It was inscribed all over her face.
"You could have done it in another way." She was furious. Every part of her body was screaming in outrage. Who wouldn't be when somebody stabs you out of nowhere?
"It was easier than having a long discussion. I dislike long conversations." He pulled the chair out, gesturing for her to sit.
"Then why am I still alive?" She calmly followed, keeping her anger at bay. What's more, she wanted to know why she was still standing as though nothing had happened. There was no reason to deny it.
"You can't die here no matter how many times I stab you. After all, you are yet to die." He took a step back after she settled on the chair. "You were chosen to take part in the journey of the novel which is about to come to life."
"Why?" she questioned with widening eyes. This wasn't a dream. This was happening. She had read lots of novels and manga/manhua about characters transmitted into a book but this
'Was this really happening?'
"Hehe…" She awkwardly laughed with an eyebrow raise. "You're joking, right?" Okay, she is probably a believer in one God, but this was too much for her to take in.
The butler stared right at her and spoke in a calm voice, "I could show you again with the butter knife like earlier."
This butler has no sense of appropriateness. Her head throbbed as though she had a hangover. "Why?" she asked again, resting her forehead on her palm.
"We received a request from a dying human who wished to take part in her beloved book on her deathbed."
"Huh?" This was so unreal. "Just that?" She quickly sat up, eyes glued on him. "That's a stupid reason."
"As I've said, this was a request to fulfill a dying human's wish—" the butler repeated.
"You decided to fulfill a dying person's wish and have me tag along for her fairytale adventure?" Her expression became complicated, eyes drilling towards the standing person. "Are you freaking kidding me here?"
"Yes." The person smiled, ignoring her irritated tone. Was the butler a her or a him? That didn't matter now.
"You are a lucky person who we—"
"No, I'm not." She interrupted, unhappy about it. "Take me back." She tried to calm the anger boiling up inside her, speaking with gritted teeth "Now."
"I think you're mistaken." Startled by the sudden interruption, he continued, "You haven't read the plot yet and besides you were chos—"
"I don't care," she interrupted again, hand slamming against the soft table which felt like bouncy cotton candy. She did not care about the story or whether she was chosen among all.
"She is dying and I am not. I was still living. Pick someone who is dying, not someone who is trying to live a normal life. I didn't ask to be here, nor do I wish to be. There are thousands of readers out there who wish to come here, but not ME. I was about to take the next big step. I was asked on a date by my long-time crush. I had everything I wanted there. Take me back. NOW."
"Are you sure you have everything you need?" The butler was still calm and didn't seem to care if she was angry or annoyed.
"What do you mean?" Her gaze fixed on him. "And yes, I'm sure."
"I apologize," he said with an unpleasant smirk which gave her goosebumps. "But there is a reason why you were chosen to come here." He paused for dramatic effect, raising his index finger and thumb to grasp his chin. "I forgot that you are a human who has no ability to see the future."
"What future?" She didn't like the sound of that. Anything to do with the future should be kept secret, but curiosity got the better of her.
"And what reason is that?" she asked with a gulp.
"Why don't I show you?" he asked smugly.
Her mind went blank for a minute. "What?"
He snapped his fingers and she was shown her life. Everything played out before her like a movie. Despite taking only a minute, she saw her whole life, including her future.
"T-this is a fake, right?" she asked nervously. Her eyes sparkled and her trembling hands tried hard to stay still.
"I never lie," he professed without hesitation.
She gazed down at the breakfast splendidly laid out on the table. Her countenance looked calm, but underneath the table, her grip on her pyjamas was turning her knuckles white. She didn't want to believe what she saw nor did she want to hear anymore, but the butler wouldn't shut his mouth.
"Take me back," she finally uttered in a low voice. "Take me back." Her hand clutched tighter, nails digging into her skin.
"Excuse me?" The Butler gave her a confused look when she interrupted his babbling.
"Take me back." She repeated without glancing at him. "I'll fix things in my way," she mumbled lowly.
"I apologize," the Butler replied, picking up her cup and stirring with a cotton candy spoon. "But that cannot happen. You were already chosen to take part. And from what I've received, the future you've seen is bound to happen no matter what." He put down the cup, which was steaming with a sweet, honey-milk aroma.
"Why?" Unable to control her grumbling stomach, she picked up the mug for a sip. It tasted as delicious as it smelled. Amazing she thought and sipped more.
"It's simple." The butler gently picked up the toasted bread and spread smooth, silky butter onto it. "Your memory will be erased."
"What?"
She raised her head towards the butler, who was lining up sliced fruit on the bread.
"That's the one rule we follow." He placed the bread on an empty plate in front of her. "We don't take advantage of humans, but we give them options. We believe in fairness." He pushed the plate towards her to encourage her to take a bite.
"Are you, God?"
"No. He is far superior to us. We are only working under Him and He is monitoring us. That's why we are very careful what we do or say."
She rolled her eyes when he spoke about being careful what they did. Yeah right.
"Now, chosen human one."
"Aera."
"Pardon?"
"My name is Aera. I have a name for a reason." She gave an annoying look. All she had been hearing was 'chosen human one' which was getting under her skin.
"Now, your so-called name, Aera human."
"Just Aera is enough." Area rolled her eyes again, now even more irritated. "I know very well that I'm a human. You don't need to remind me every time."
He leans a little, stretching his hand to hold the butter knife ignoring her defense. "You've two options." Carefully, he sliced the bread he prepared. Aera's eyes followed his elegant movements.
"I can do that by myself." She glanced up with an eyebrow raised.
"But I don't see your hand moving," he responded, continuing to cut the slice into two. Aera only rolled her eyes away and leaned back.
"As I've said," he continued. "You are given two options." He moved back a step after he was done.
"One." He raised his index finger. "You could either go back to your world without any knowledge of what happened here and face the catastrophe or two." He raised the other middle finger, showing a peace sign. "You could accept the proposal of going to this world, finish your mission and come back for revenge."
Her hand paused on its way to grabbing the bread on the plate. "I could come back?" Aera was delighted, her eyes gleamed with hope and joy.
He nodded in return with a response, "If you finish your mission."
Aera was in deep thought now, staring down at her plate. This wasn't a bad idea. She could return without her memory being erased and clear things up her way.
Aera unconsciously stretched her thin pink lips and smiled. She had made up her mind. "What is the name of the book?" Her mood had already picked up, the storm cloud moving away from her.
"You agree to our condition?" the butler asked, a little surprised by the sudden change in her mood.
"Yes, I'll get into this so-called stupid novel the human wrote." Going back with memory intact and knowledge of the future, she would be sure to take revenge when she came back.
"Now, tell me the plot, or let me see the plot." With excitement, she pushed her plate away.
"Sure," he answered and took a step closer to her table. "But first," he leaned forward, picked up a fluffy fork, pierced through the bread, and raised it towards her mouth. "Breakfast. I can't have the character go in on an empty stomach."
"You are so persistent that I have breakfast." She grabbed the fork begrudgingly and fed herself.
"I don't like my guests to leave without breakfast." He stood up, happy that she had finally started eating. "Besides, food is not meant to be wasted."
As soon as she satisfactorily finished her breakfast, she asked, "Where should I start?"