Aedhira awoke to the sensation of weightlessness, floating in a black void that shifted and rippled, like ink swirling in water. Shapes emerged and dissolved before his eyes, the scenery around him changing in a fluid, dreamlike state. He blinked hard, trying to anchor himself, his thoughts sluggish as the shifting reality finally began to settle.
It felt familiar.
The scene before him solidified, and Aedhira recognized it at once—it was the same one the sim-hall had been simulating earlier. But... it wasn't quite the same. There was more. Where the sim-hall had shown endless rolling hills, adorned with flowers, the current landscape was more finite, more grounded in something real. Two hills, gently rising, marked the horizon. But beyond them lay not more earth—but endless water. An ocean, or perhaps a sea, stretching so far that it melded with the distant horizon. Aedhira squinted, unsure of where the sky ended and the water began.
The large tree remained, standing proudly between the hills as it had in the sim-hall. Its branches, gnarled and ancient, reached up like skeletal fingers toward the sky. But now, beneath it, there was a table and two chairs, simple and unadorned. It was almost welcoming. Almost.
Aedhira's attention shifted upwards. The sky—if it could even be called that—was roiling. Dark, thunderous clouds swirled above, churning as if they themselves were alive. Winds howled around him, not in one direction, but all directions at once, screeching as they passed his ears. It was cold, biting at his skin like the chill of winter. But the air was also humid, thick with moisture, like the peak of summer. A light shower drizzled down, cold droplets mingling with the warmth of his skin and hair.
The weather... it was chaos.
And yet, despite the swirling storm and the screeching winds, the space near the tree was... calm. There, under the heavy branches, where the table and chairs waited, the air was still. Quiet. The storm seemed to bend around that area, leaving it untouched. The tranquility was unnerving, yet also inviting.
Aedhira took a step forward, eyes fixed on the bizarre calmness. He could feel it now—the eye of the storm. That's what this was. He wasn't in the sim-hall anymore. That much was clear.
As if in response to his thoughts, the storm rumbled. A low growl of thunder rolled across the sky, vibrating deep in his chest.
Aedhira stood there for a moment, letting his gaze drift around the strange landscape. On one side, the air was frigid, biting at his skin, colder than anything he had ever felt. He turned, and to his shock, he saw the flower-covered hills from before now blanketed in a thin layer of snow, soft and calm, slowly accumulating in the pale light of the storm. Snow. He had never seen snow before, he realized. It was... oddly beautiful. Wryly, he thought, of all the places to start ticking off my bucket list...
But beyond the gentle snowfall, the landscape grew harsher, wilder. A blizzard raged in the distance, its fury veiled by a white haze. The blizzard blurred the horizon, swirling so violently that it obscured whatever lay beyond it. The wall of snow and ice was impenetrable, roaring with primal ferocity.
He shuddered and turned the other way. Here, there was no snow, but the winds were more fierce, more humid. He could feel the storm intensifying. The clouds to his right thickened, darkening into a mass so dense it seemed to swallow the sky. His eyes narrowed, focusing, and the image before him sharpened, as if his vision had zoomed in. Farther ahead, the wind screamed louder, whipping the world into a frenzy.
Then, he saw it.
Far off, beyond the dark clouds, another wall—this one different. The haze wasn't snow, and it didn't carry the icy touch of the blizzard. No, this was something far more violent. A hurricane. He recognized it at once. The monstrous storm clouds spiraled into the sky, the winds pulling everything into a chaotic vortex. It was a force of nature, unstoppable and merciless.
Aedhira's breath caught in his throat. He was standing at the crossroads of elemental chaos—blizzards, hurricanes, and storms. All converging on this one singular point. And he, standing in the midst of it, was in the eye of the storm.
He felt small, insignificant before the forces clashing around him. His heart raced, pounding in his chest as he wondered what this place was. Why was he here? What was this space? It wasn't real—or was it? It felt too vivid, too immersive to be another simulation.
But something about it... something about the storm and the calm beneath the tree...
It was waiting for him.
Instinct drove Aedhira toward the table under the tree. The storm raged all around, primal and violent, but something about the tree, the table, the chairs—it beckoned him. It was quieter there, less dangerous, a refuge from the chaos. Each step toward it brought more calm, the winds softening until they barely whispered against his skin. The rain, which had pelted him just moments before, began to fade, and he no longer felt the sting of cold droplets.
His heart, which had been pounding in his chest—loud and fast like the clamor of war drums—began to settle. It wasn't until now that he realized how hard it had been beating. A slow exhale escaped his lips, one he hadn't known he was holding. The tension drained from his body with that single breath, and for the first time since he'd awoken in this strange place, he felt a sense of ease.
The table was in front of him now, and Aedhira slowed his approach. It was a simple thing, made of dark wood with a glossy sheen. The surface gleamed softly despite the strange, dim light filtering through the storm-clouded sky. The chairs, too, were wooden, matching the table in their deep brown hue, with a bit of padding on the seats. They were... classy. Comfortable.
But they were out of place.
Aedhira frowned, his mind turning over this detail. Even with his outdated archives and his scattered knowledge, something about the scene tugged at him. He wasn't sure why, but he knew these were indoor chairs. They belonged inside, though he couldn't quite pin down *where* inside they should be. But there was something undeniably out of context about their presence here, beneath a tree in the middle of a storm-tossed landscape.
A small, satisfied smile curled his lips as he considered his deduction. **Indoor furniture.** He'd figured it out. It wasn't much, but it was something. He took a seat in one of the chairs, testing the padding beneath him. It was comfortable, better than he expected. The air around him was still cool, but somehow warm at the same time, like the breeze carried a gentle balance of two opposing seasons. Despite the surrounding storm—one side frozen with snow and the other seething with humid winds—this spot felt... ethereal. Peaceful.
For a moment, he almost forgot where he was. He could have stayed there, watching the endless water in the distance, the waves gently lapping at the horizon. His body felt light, like he wasn't really tethered to this place, as though he were merely a thought passing through.
And then, something shifted. Aedhira's eyes narrowed as the unsettling sensation crept up on him. He glanced down, inspecting his clothes. They were the same as the ones he had worn when he'd first awoken weeks ago—plain, simple, unremarkable. But there was one glaring detail that immediately soured his mood.
No footwear.
Again.
His face twisted in annoyance.
'Really?'
He was barefoot, yet again, in the midst of some bizarre, half-real dreamscape. Of all the strange and inexplicable things to happen, this was the one that tipped his mood from cautious curiosity to outright suspicion. A storm of confusion, a tree offering calm, a table with indoor furniture beneath the sky—and yet, somehow, his lack of shoes was what finally made him truly suspicious.
With a scowl, Aedhira leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms. Something was wrong here.
Minutes passed.
Nothing.
More minutes passed.
More nothing. Aedhira's impatient side was beginning to rear it's ugly head.
Aedhira sat quietly in the chair, his mind a whirlpool of unanswered questions and suspicions. The storm continued its distant fury, but under the tree, all was still. His arms remained crossed, his body sinking deeper into the soft padding, but his thoughts churned restlessly. *This place*—it felt too perfect, too artificial, yet undeniably real at the same time. He had tried to convince himself it was just a simulation, something manufactured, but the rawness of the wind on his face and the smell of the rain gnawed at that theory.
He couldn't take it anymore. With a long, frustrated sigh, he uncrossed his arms and leaned forward. The air had grown far too thick with expectation, as if he weren't the only one waiting. He stared into the open space beyond the table, his voice cutting through the peaceful silence like a blade.
"You can come out now," Aedhira called out, his tone half-sardonic, half-weary. "I'm sure you've had your fun."
For a moment, nothing happened. The quiet stretched thin, fragile like glass about to shatter. Then, almost as if responding to his words, the clouds rumbled in the distance—a sound that wasn't just thunder. It was deeper, resonant, like the low belly laugh of someone who found amusement in his discomfort. A gust of wind followed, more forceful than before, whipping through the fields of flowers that bordered the hills. The petals lifted into the air, carried by the gust in a wave of bright colors, like some surreal, floral storm. They surged toward him, and though Aedhira flinched as they swept past, there was no sting, only the odd sensation of hundreds of soft petals brushing against his skin.
When he opened his eyes, the petals were gone, scattered across the ground or swept back into the wind. But there, standing on the other side of the table, was a figure—someone, or something, he hadn't seen before.
Aedhira blinked, trying to make sense of the person before him. A man? A woman? He couldn't tell. Androgyny was not new to Aedhira—he himself didn't exactly fit squarely into any one category, especially given his lack of certain anatomical features. But this figure? This was different. The person standing before him looked maybe twenty, perhaps twenty-five, their age hovering somewhere in that nebulous range. They reminded him of Astiron, not in appearance, but in that ageless quality, something older than their physical years.
The person's hair was the first thing Aedhira focused on—dark, dark blue, so deep it almost appeared black, but not quite. And there were streaks of silver and white running through it, a subtle contrast that added a sense of wisdom or perhaps wear. The hair fell past their shoulders in soft, unbound waves. An unnatural beauty radiated from the person, the kind that defied typical human standards. Aedhira found himself momentarily captivated, but only for a heartbeat.
It was their eyes that truly caught him off guard.
The moment Aedhira met the person's gaze, he felt a jolt of recognition. Not because he knew them—but because he recognized *those* eyes. Sapphire blue. Deep and bright, like polished gems. They weren't like his prismatic, multifaceted irises, but the resemblance was close enough to make Aedhira's skin crawl. There was no ruby lining like the one that stubbornly circled his eyes—a strange marking he had never been able to wash off, no matter how many times he tried—but the similarity was unmistakable.
Yet there was one detail that made these eyes distinct.
Slits.
Vertical slits, like a predator. They weren't human eyes at all, but something far more primal. Something dangerous.
Aedhira's gaze shifted up, following the contours of the stranger's face, and that's when he noticed the horns. They jutted from the person's forehead—light blue, almost gray, sharp and pointed. The horns curved out slightly like an S shape, branching at the ends like coral, jagged and imposing. For a moment, Aedhira thought of the strange creatures from the Aes archives, beasts with elemental power in their bones. But this wasn't a beast—it was something... in between.
The person's face was slim, delicate almost, but the rest of their body suggested otherwise. Though slight in frame, the anatomy didn't seem to match what Aedhira had come to associate with femininity. It wasn't enough of either to place it on the spectrum. Aedhira tried to make sense of it, but his thoughts were derailed by something far more startling.
The figure wasn't wearing anything.
Aedhira's face flushed immediately. His eyes shot upward, away from the figure's body, toward the roiling clouds above. Suddenly, those dark, thundering masses seemed infinitely more interesting.
"Uhh..." Aedhira stammered, shifting awkwardly in his chair. "You, uh, mind putting on some clothes? I'd really appreciate it."
He glanced back toward the figure, who hadn't moved, their expression unreadable. The clouds above rumbled once more, but this time it wasn't thunder—it was something closer to amusement. The wind stirred again, gentler now, swirling around the figure in a way that felt deliberate. Aedhira caught a glimpse of the petals being carried back toward the tree, gathering around the stranger. And in the blink of an eye, the wind shifted again, and the petals formed into loose, flowing robes, draped elegantly around the figure's form.
The figure stood there, now clothed in what appeared to be robes made of the very flowers that had just been swirling in the wind. The robe shimmered with a soft, ethereal glow, matching the unnatural aura that clung to the stranger.
Aedhira sighed with a mix of relief and frustration. He didn't know who—or what—this person was, but he had the distinct feeling that whoever they were, they were no ordinary visitor. And as much as Aedhira wanted answers, he also knew that nothing about this encounter would be simple.
"Thanks," he muttered, still looking at the clouds, trying to gather his composure before facing the stranger again.
'This is going to be a long day'