Chapter 2: 1.1 — antithesis.

Sunlight spills into my room and chases off the darkness, almost as soon as the the curtains attached to my hostelry room’s bay window parted into two. I push aside a glass panel before sitting on the sill, breathing in the fresh air that readily greets me.

Below, the street is teeming with people going about their day. And, well, the present assigns us a date where everyone’s days intertwine.

The Welcoming festival; an off-the-record social event that the capital of Kauv organizes to celebrate the returnees and greet the new assemblage of students accepted to the halls of the Caligo Institute for the Spiritually-Inclined.

Though not considered as the more sacrilegious events of the kingdom, citizens see importance in showing appreciation for those who are numinous. That appreciation in turn manifests into music, dancing, public plays, and a night parade. I eye the more attention-grabbing props being carried by several groups, careful in the journey of traversing through tents and stands being assembled mostly by way of spirit-weaving, goods displayed in random and unthinkable areas, and students wearing their Caligo uniforms with pride, eyes shining as they gawk at the unfinished displays.

Though I’ve no reason not to expect a lot of noise, I nearly jump at the intrusive voices of two new students wearing their cloaks who had stopped in the middle of the road, looking at their surroundings warily.

The shorter of the two, a woman talking animatedly, hops around in her position, appearing almost frustrated at her friend. As she wasn’t the one facing my direction, I couldn’t quite see the appearance of her companion, leaning on a wooden beam.

“No, —. My father really — see the cloaked figure at the edge of the —.”

“Really? In the middle of — busy —?”

“Yes! He — him — his men tried to sneak — but as soon as they did, it retreated — into the woodland.”

The woodland? “Excuse me!” I call out, earning the attention of the two. The bearer of the story looks around while her friend remains unmoving.

“H-huh? Who said that?!”

“I have no-”

“I’m up here!” I knock loudly on the glass panel for emphasis, waving when one of them, the animated girl, meets my eye.

“O-oh! There you are! What’s… Up?”

“Um, well, I didn’t mean to listen in but did you mean the woodland leading to Caligo, by any chance? Or is it the Eden forest from the east of the capital?”

“The woodland of mirrors!” She replies after a pause.

A mysterious being hiding in the one place only a few could navigate with little issue… But Wayfarers usually travel in groups, though. “Really? Then, can you tell me more about this cloaked figure?”

“Pardon?! What did she say?” Her friend audibly sighs. “Sorry, gurlie, I can’t hear you clearly from here!”

“Oh, no worries!” I kneel on the window sill I sat on, looking over at the ground from my fourth floor room. Bracing myself, I jump. The shriek the woman releases as I land next to them garners not just glances from passersby but also her friend’s, who whips her head to check my direction.

We make brief eye contact, and I am struck at the tattoo next to her ear, visible from her effort to push strands of her brown hair back and highlighted by a handful of ear piercings.

She’s… A wayfarer, huh?

I cough, awkwardly apologizing to the storyteller who currently nurses her heart in her palm. “Can you tell me more about this cloaked figure?”

“W-well, it’s the one circulating around town this past few days, actually. A lot of people have been noticing someone or something looking over the capital from the edge of the woodland with a dark cloak hiding most of its silhouette.” She stares at her friend after she releases the information in a tone attempting to spook me, and I could not help but also look at her in confusion.

Rolling her eyes, the wayfarer adds, “They say that the only distinct thing about it were a pair of luminous port gore eyes.”

“You mean violet, Lucille.”

“That simply wouldn’t be accurate.” Lucille looks at me with a raised brow, crossing her arms. “And something tells me Ms. Window jumper over here would appreciate specifics.”

“Spirits, Lucy!” The storyteller elbows her friend before addressing me apologetically. “Sorry about her, she’s a bit more cranky than usual today. Welcoming festival jitters, is all.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Your first year in Caligo brings out all kinds of emotions.”

“Oooh, any tips for us? By the way, I’m Penelope Flancé! This is Lucille Igot.”

“I’m Carmen Kawakami. It’s nice to meet the both of you. Just have fun for your last remaining week of freedom.” I snicker when Penelope pouts, looking disappointed at my words. Beside her, Lucille merely raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t worry though, I’m positive you two would do well. 1st phase meridian students?”

“Yes! I spent all four phases of my foundation years in a different kingdom. Lucille is a wayfarer though, so she was enrolled to an exclusive institute.”

“I see. You wouldn’t need much adjustments, then. Caligo prides itself in raising adaptable students.” I say the last part almost mechanically, and my brain itches at the memory of classes upon classes of the institute just meshing in every phrase they could think of that ‘exemplifies’ the school in our brains to allow us not to forget.

Feeling myself gradually withdraw from the conversation due to the sudden whiplash of recollections, I take a step back, alerting them. “Thank you for entertaining my questions. I don’t want to take up any more of your time though, so I will have to go. I’ll be expecting you both at the orientation next week, however!”

“Oh, okay! See you, Carmen!”

Let’s go chase this town gossip, then.

· · ──────────── · ◑●◐ · ──────────── · ·

“S-ssssSEE Yoouuuuu, CARMEN!”

I grimace, gripping my belt bag as tight as I could as an obnoxious disembodied voice hurls random words at me.

“J-ji-jitter!”

“You’re lucky I ran out of paper to silence you.”

“S-s-SSSSILENCE! SILENCE! SILENCE!”

My feet stop on their own as the voice erratically cries out.

That… Can’t be normal. The voices of the woodland and annoying at best and terrifying at worst, but their cadence… It’s definitely not supposed to be as mentally damaging as the hail of paralysis.

That can only mean one thing, then.

I look around my surroundings, whispering incantations of sight under my breath.

The forest whistles back.

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“NIIIIIIGHT!” The voices simultaneously scream in response.

Then, almost like an echo, a terrified yelp silences it immediately.

I call forth a fire ball, letting it manifest from my fingers to my palm. “It’s useless to hide, demon. I am already aware of your existence.” I call out, grabbing a particular piece of paper from my bag. Swiping it across the core with my other hand, I monitor the surroundings as the red glow shifts into a rose gold hue.

Closing my eyes, I hurl the fire ball upward; an ‘eep!’ letting me know which direction to open my eyes to. I whip my head to the cry and see the hot object fall next to a person dressed in indefinable black apparel in direct echo to the darkness that clings to the night, sinking into the grass and causing them to stagger back unto a tree with as much grace as a newborn.

“Remove your illusion.” I demand, crossing my arms. Although I did my best to appear stern, I, however, couldn’t help the confusion that briefly mars my face when they (her, if I could guess due to the feminine voice.) jump and struggle, trying to pull back the cloth(?) covering their face.

They continue to wiggle around in the ground, trying to pull as much of the black fabric clinging to them and managing to only display the illusion of a disturbingly stretchy skin.

“Uh, do you need help?” I slowly ask. They stop for a moment to ‘look’ at my direction. I flinch at the empty face.

“Do I look like I’m thriving here?” *She* asks, modulated voice sarcastic and and quivering.

And also muffled.

Sighing, I take a handful of paper from my bag and look them over, finding two papers with specific glyphs. “I’m not sure the glyphs currently at my disposal could pull this off against the spirit-weaving of an obviously sophisticated demon.” I ignore the strange ‘har-har’ sound she mutters, placing the two paper on… Different parts of her. It’s challenging to discern shapes right now, due to her illusion’s influence, so my only concern is hoping I accurately discerned where the night and this weird illusion suit of her begins and where they end. “Hang tight though, pfft. Get it? Ooh, and also, this might hurt a lot.”

“Excuse me?! Say. The. Last. Part. Again!”

“Hang tight?” I repeat, tapping the middle of the two glyphs with my fingers before taking a step back.

I even went as far as to cover my ears and crouch behind a bush, whispering a little prayer as the stranger shouts in disbelief, “Where are you going?!”

Though I sadly hear no boom, the resulting explosion of light nearly blinds me.

“Ow!”

I take a deep breath before pushing myself off the bush, only to lose my balance and alas, scream when I realized who was behind the fabric.

“Oh, no, wait! I can explain!” The n-nightmare approaches me, ashen white horns bent from the tip, two muted violet eyes, ever-glaring, despite the context of emotions her eyebrows attempt to convey.

In this case, they try to help paint the picture of the current king of traitors— in the verge of tears.

I am the one who staggers back to a tree this time, pointing a finger at her. “You are an illusion!” Why would a ruler be in a random heavily-protected forest in between two places that while significant, are both useless to her?!

“Oh, no. How am I supposed to make you believe otherwise now?”

She has no entourage.

“Look, touch my skin.”

She’s wearing a weird dingy cloak.

“Why do I suddenly feel judgement from that stare?”

Enchanting as she may be still, she looks so unkempt!

My stare turns unflinching— led on by a strong bewitchment weaving itself into long wavy hair, white in color with ends seemingly drenched in strawberry blood, before tracing two obstinate brows in downward positions to douse most of the blaze of her eyes. The thread of charm entwines itself so strongly unto this woman’s entirety that I only realize the danger my heart is in when she bites her lip in annoyed aggression.

I feel my face heat up to a boiling point too late when her panicked expression turns into one of incredulous surprise.

“Carmen, I am pleading you to get a grip— WHY IS YOUR FACE LIKE THAT!?”

I close my eyes and shake my head before returning to my thoughts. So what she did back then; an illusion within an illusion. In that case, my glyphs only worked because it wanted to catch me off-guard for once!

Wait.

“What did you say?”

She pauses, looking at me blankly.

“I said… Come on!” The vice-like grip of hands with talon-like fingernails grab my arm, pulling me from my place rightfully beneath— I-I mean, on the ground. I have to look up a bit, but my knees threaten to give in when our eyes finally meet for the first time.

“You think I’m an illusion? Then allow this figment of your imagination to lead you to your room by the end of the night.”

My heart beats erratically. “I—”

“Y-you do have extra dinner, right?” Ingrid the peacemaker— rumored queen of demon-kind, illusion virtuoso, the hand in the grand scheme of events asks politely, frowning innocently, still on the verge of tears.

I nod eagerly and mutter to myself, following her to… Somewhere. I don’t actually know where we’re going. “Dear spirits, this is starting to feel real.”

“Stand quietly.” She stops and pats her cloak with one hand, sliding her fist to a discreet pocket and grabbing a rolled-up parchment. She opens it up and from my view, I see a map of what seems to be a forested area. There is a circled spot in the middle and a drawn arrow pointing to it with the words ‘ASAP.’

“Is this… A crudely drawn map of the woodland of mirrors?” I snatch it from her hands, briefly free of thought at the item’s influence. “Is it genuine? What does ‘Asap’ mean?”

Ingrid grumbles before gripping my arm once more, her tone drying out. “I’m disappointed, worn out, and hungry. I’ll answer you later but for now, just get us off this place. I sacrificed all my brainpower for the whole week to cross paths with the dweeb I am face to face with right now.”

I look down at myself in surprise at the realization of her calling me out.

“O-okay. I apologize.” I lend out my hand, actually perceiving the state of the woman in front of me for the first time, defeated but oddly… Relieved.

She takes it, all warmth and softness. Not at all with the motions to match her aura.

And as I turn back, leading a demon to a town of humanity, my selfishness inflicts me for I only think of the fact that I do not know what is more deluded; thinking I am seeing someone not molded from the influence of the woods—

Or thinking that whoever it is I am looking at in this very moment is truly Ingrid.

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