Jasper, spurred by an inexplicable curiosity, directed his inquiry at the mysterious figure cloaked in black robes. Silence lingered, prompting him to seize the moment and reach for an empty bowl within arm's reach. He deliberately avoided those cradling liquids, knowing all too well that touching them would trigger an unrestrained and involuntary consumption.
Under the watchful gaze of Quentin, whose surprise was palpable, Jasper's fingers explored the bowl's outer surface. With a gentle caress empty bowls, he concluded that the material was indeed wood, dismissing the illusory allure of the apparent "gold."
Having encountered these bowls twice before in the chaos of life-threatening moments, Jasper had not taken note of their texture. Now, in a rare moment of tranquility, he discerned the subtleties that had eluded him earlier.
"Am I witnessing a mirage unfolding before my eyes?"
Aware of the gravity of the situation, Jasper pondered silently, withholding his inquiry to Quentin.
"No, the octopus's influence on me has dissipated. This is no malevolent hallucination. But why is Quentin oblivious? What sets us apart? Could it be my transmigration to this realm?"
Jasper's thoughts drifted to the realms of fantastical novels he had perused, contemplating the possibility of an extraordinary "Cheat."
"Is this some kind of automatic photographic cheat?"
In a feeble attempt to ease his nerves, he made a jest to himself. The levity provided some relief, allowing Jasper to sense that he was on the brink of unraveling a profound mystery.
"Could what I perceive be the famed magical aura? Yet, whether magic exists in this world remains uncertain."
Restlessly twisting on a wooden stake, Jasper continued his introspection:
"Suppose what I'm seeing is a manifestation of the Cheat. Could this be the legendary [Eye of Truth]?"
As his gaze once again fell upon the bowls, Jasper sought fresh clues, finding none. With time slipping away, the impending misunderstanding looming, he steeled himself for a final attempt. Inhaling deeply, he felt the charged atmosphere and extended his right hand, tapping his temple lightly. In a silent affirmation, he whispered to himself, "I am using superpowers. My eyes harbor magic."
The sensation enveloped Jasper instantly, a perceptible shift as if a clear stream flowed into his slightly swollen eyes. The wooden bowl on the table illuminated, revealing subtle details previously concealed.
Simultaneously, the figures of Quentin, the enigmatic man in black robes, and the solitary candle on the table burst into newfound radiance. Quentin's form shimmered with seven distinct hues, while the black-robed figure emanated a nebulous gray aura. In contrast, the candle exuded a vibrant green, not in the brilliance of its flame but in the hue of its wax.
"The Eye of Truth?"
Jenkins struggled to contain the elation welling within him, maintaining an outward façade of nervous anticipation.
"Remarkable, this additional luminance is undeniably the fabled supernatural aura. Regardless of why the wooden bowl eluded my sight earlier, the solution lies before me."
Fixating on the verdant candle, Jasper recalled its significance: "Green represents healing."
"If I dare to try, success might mean no consequences... Yet, even victory may not spare me."
Extending his hand, Jasper surprised everyone by extracting a small solidified wax fragment from the table and tossing it into the nearby bowl. Swiftly, before the liquid could spill, he drank it down.
"Nothing transpired!"
Ecstasy surged through him, and he promptly relayed the outcome to Quentin: "It's clear water!"
Abruptly, the boarded door swung open, its barriers scattering across the floor. Beyond the entrance, an indistinct, dazzling white light mirrored the initial arrival scene.
"You're free to leave!"
Quentin rose with excitement, hastily writing down the words to convey to Jasper.
While Jasper initially stood with elation, his smile gradually faded as he resumed his seat.
Licking his lips, he gazed at the remaining bowls on the table, a newfound uncertainty lingering in the air.
"Oh, right."
Quentin's pen danced across the paper, posing a question that hung in the air: "Where's our reward?"
The man in the black robe, with his peculiar and unattractive voice, finally spoke after a prolonged silence: "Bowl."
Quentin's hands eagerly reached out, but he could only grasp a solitary bowl.
Content with his acquisition, Quentin gestured for Jasper to hasten his actions. However, the young man fixated his gaze on the air, lost in contemplation.
After a moment of inner deliberation, Jasper resolved, "Since there's a reward in these bowls, why not sample all the liquids?"
A flicker of horror etched across Quentin's face, prompting him to write urgently: "You're insane. The remaining liquids likely hold a high risk of being poisonous. How do you intend to proceed?"
"The candles might serve as antidotes," Jasper explained in a hushed tone, though Quentin remained skeptical. He hastily penned another note: "Consider this, it could be mere coincidence. The one you chose happened to be pure water. Boy, we've been fortunate. Don't let your greed eclipse reason."
Quentin's caution didn't stem from conservatism but rather from his inability to witness the unfolding glory before Jasper. Facing a situation with a 99% likelihood of being fatal, he couldn't muster the same "bravery."
"Perhaps it is a coincidence, but in this new world, how can one lead an exhilarating life without a touch of audacity?"
As this thought unfolded in Jasper's mind, a radiant smile graced his face. He reached out, liberating a substantial chunk of solidified wax from the table, broke it into four fragments, and tossed them into the remaining liquid.
With a determined glint in his eyes, Jasper seized four bowls simultaneously, their clinking against the table resonating in a chaotic symphony. Quentin, holding his breath, observed Jasper's audacious actions with a mix of trepidation and disbelief.
The relentless gulping of liquid filled the room, the sound of clattering bowls and rattling tables echoing incessantly. Quentin's wide-eyed gaze followed Jasper's seemingly reckless spree.
After what felt like an eternity, Jasper sighed, breaking the tense silence. "The four bowls are filled with water."
A vigorous nod from Quentin signaled a collective exhale of relief. Urgently, Quentin motioned for Jasper to retrieve a bowl and make a swift exit.
"Too greedy. Two people, ten choices. How could we expect three rewards?"
Regret colored Jasper's thoughts as he reached for a bowl, only to find it inexplicably affixed to the table. Before he could inquire, the previously silent man in the black robe stirred. Rising from his seated position, he pointed at the candle, prompting an eerie stillness to envelop the room.
"Take it away."
These were the first words uttered by the man in black robe. Jasper, momentarily dazed, only responded when Quentin nudged him with elation. He belatedly picked up the half-burned candle.
Without daring to look back, the two hurriedly made their way toward the beckoning light at the door. The man in black robe stood alone in the fading darkness after the candle vanished.
His black attire slithered uncontrollably towards the door's light, as if an unseen figure wore it. Beneath the fabric, withered bones were exposed, crumbling to the ground and shattering into fragments. Over time, the bone powder seamlessly merged with the dust on the floor.
A gust of cold air brushed against him from behind, yet Jasper's attention was consumed by the tumult in his stomach. Only upon reaching solid ground did he manage to suppress the impending upheaval of his dinner.
An unfamiliar and squalid alley stretched before Jasper's eyes, a labyrinth of filth and discarded refuse. The ground was a chaotic mosaic of garbage, assaulting his senses with a putrid odor that rekindled the unrest in his stomach. A feral cat, teeth bared, meowed at Jasper while clutching an unidentifiable object in its mouth before slinking into the shadows against the wall.
Weary and disoriented, Jasper stumbled to the nearest wall, kicking away debris with his shoes. Clearing a space, he spread a discarded newspaper and took a seat. This wasn't the intended exit point from "The Strange Land"; it seemed Quentin had overlooked a crucial detail.
"I hope this is still Lutetia City."
Gazing skyward, Jasper observed the red and blue moons suspended quietly above, accompanied by a blanket of stars. Yet, he understood that there were three moons in reality, the last one embodying Quentin's faith—the righteous god of May, the Mistress of Shadows.
His attention shifted to his hands, cradling a partially burned candle in his right palm.
"Normal, but why are the sleeves black?"
Realization struck; he was adorned in the same black robe worn by the enigmatic figure in the otherworldly realm.
"when…"
Before he could delve into his thoughts, muffled footsteps resonated from the far end of the alley. Deliberately subdued, the sound would have escaped notice in a less silent environment. The confined space offered no hiding spots, flanked by residential back walls that explained the scattered garbage, adorned with peculiar symbols and unsightly stains.
Amid a momentary hesitation, the unseen footsteps materialized into a figure. Another individual in a black robe, swiftly advancing along the wall's shadow, inadvertently colliding with Jasper.
The hood of the stranger's robe concealed his features, an intentional extension at the front obscuring his face. In the awkward standoff, Jasper attempted to discern the mysterious figure's identity.
"Going so fast?"
Silence lingered as the two locked gazes. Jasper strained to peer beneath the hood, but the voice that finally broke the impasse was distinctly hoarse, a disguised facade.
"Are you here for the gathering too?"
'Gathering? What is he saying?'
Jasper, finding himself caught in the unfolding enigma, inexplicably nodded, "Yes."
To his surprise, his response emerged in a peculiar tone, reminiscent of a young boy's high-pitched voice. Simultaneously, an unsettling realization dawned as he observed distorted shadows on the ground. The reflection behind him morphed into a rotund figure adorned with a pointed hat and a mask.
"There's something amiss with this black robe!"
The revelation struck him, prompting the mysterious figure to speak again.
"You came too early; it's dangerous!"
Having uttered this caution, the man settled against the wall, mirroring Jasper's posture, his silence casting an air of uncertainty.
"Why did he come here? Is this some sort of illicit gathering for criminals?"
Jasper's mind raced with random thoughts as he sought an excuse to slip away, but matters took an ominous turn. In the next few minutes, additional peculiarly attired individuals emerged from both sides of the alley. Lacking mirrors, Jasper remained oblivious to his own appearance, but the gaze of each newcomer intensified upon seeing him.
As the last of the masked figures hurriedly arrived, the collective attention shifted, and all those who had been seated or squatting gathered in a singular location. Jasper found himself compelled to join them, the silent count revealing seven individuals, including himself.
"Who is he?"
The recently arrived man pointed at Jasper, inquiring with a voice devoid of human warmth.
"Mr. Crane, did you invite him?"
A remarkably slender feminine voice interjected, effortlessly subduing the volume.
"It's not me!" The man who had collided with Jasper panicked, "He was already here when I arrived. It wasn't you..."
Before he could conclude, the assembled group swiftly dispersed. One figure melded seamlessly into the shadows at the far end of the alley without looking back, while the remaining five observed nervously.
"Gentlemen."
Jasper grasped the need for diplomacy. The collective unease among these individuals intrigued him. The one who vanished seemed to truly meld into the shadows.
'A paranormal assembly?'
"I happened to be passing through this city and chanced upon news of this gathering, so I decided to join."
He first translated his words from Aurean, the language of the Kingdom of Aurumia, into English and then back, rendering his speech not only accented but also linguistically peculiar.
"Have you stumbled upon news of it?" inquired the last arrival.
"Yeah, I possess a small ability," Jasper replied, shrugging nonchalantly. The cautious assembly refrained from pressing further, solidifying the notion that this was indeed a clandestine gathering of a supernatural group.
Yet, based on the lack of movement in the shadow beneath the fat man, something didn't add up.
"Can we trust him?"
"No, he might be a law enforcer from the Orthodox Church in Lutetia City."
"Quit joking. Why would law enforcers bother with us? We've refrained from registration to safeguard our abilities. It's not illegal."
"He could be a cultist hunting the Gifted Ones. I've heard..."
"If it's truly dangerous, why not leave?"
"Hmph, the one who left just now clearly has ulterior motives. We should consider changing our gathering method next time. The one who left is the problematic one."
The hushed exchange between the five individuals concluded with the consensus that they hadn't committed any crimes, and private gatherings were well within legal bounds.
Finally, the man who had collided with Jasper, known as "Mr. Crane," stepped forward.
"We welcome new members to join the party, but you must prove you're a gifted person with a clean background."
'The gifted—likely referring to individuals with supernatural abilities in this world.'
Jasper responded in a peculiar syntax, "How can I prove it?"
The opposite figure seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at Jasper's reply, signaling to the others not to panic.
"Manifest your spiritual emblem," he instructed.
Jasper fell silent. It was another term foreign to him.
Misinterpreting Jasper's silence, Mr. Crane clarified, "We're not prying into your true identity, but we need assurance you're not a criminal from another city. Although we oppose the Law Enforcement and embrace orthodoxy, our gatherings are merely a hobby. This is by no means a criminal organization."