Page 22 of Unseen Eye
Leigh’s face falls slightly, her gaze distant. “That’s a story for another day,” she says softly, changing the subject again before I can press further. “You’ll need to explore the crystal caverns of Astermiri. They’re breathtaking, with walls that dazzling with light.”
I blink, intrigued by the mention of something new. “Crystal caverns?”
Leigh nods eagerly, her eyes brightening once again. “Yes, they’re deep within the foothills of the Silverpeak Mountains. The crystals there are said to have magical properties—nothing like the energy we channel, but something that resonates with the world around them. They glow with a soft light, almost as if they mimic daylight, casting a warm shimmer through the caverns. It’s one of Astermiri’s hidden treasures.”
As Leigh describes the crystal caverns, a sense of wonder and curiosity begins to build inside me once again. Despiteeverything that has happened, there are so many wonders to discover in this new world. It’s a reminder that amid the, there is also beauty and mystery waiting to be explored.
I listen intently as Leigh shares more stories of Astermiri, each tale painting a vivid picture of a land shaped by ancient magic and legendary history. For a brief moment, the chaos and drama that dumped me here start to fade into the background, replaced by thoughts of glowing crystals and ancient secrets. Maybe this place isn’t all bad… for now.
Eventually, Leigh glances at the clock on the wall. “I should go now,” she says regretfully. “But I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” she adds.
“What’s tomorrow?” I ask, my voice tinged with apprehension. Given my track record, I’m not sure if I can handle more plot twists.
“We explore Astermiri,” she says with a toothy grin, her excitement contagious.
Her enthusiasm lightens my mood, and I find myself looking forward to the distraction. “That sounds... nice,” I admit, managing a small smile.
Leigh walks toward the door. “Oh, and I almost forgot—if you need anything, a guard will be stationed outside your door. Don’t hesitate to ask him.”
“Thanks, Leigh,” I say, trying to sound sincere, but I can’t shake the nagging feeling that I’m becoming less of a guest and more of a well-fed prisoner.
Chapter Nine
This one is different. I can feel it the moment the dream takes hold.
The haze that usually blurs the edges of my visions is gone, leaving everything sharp, too sharp. I find myself standing in the heart of a kingdom more alive than anything I’ve ever seen. The light spills across fields, bathing them in a warmth that seems to pulse with life itself. People move through the streets with a sense of purpose, their faces alight with joy, their laughter ringing out like music. It’s as if this place is everything anyone could ever hope for—a place where dreams come true, even the ones you didn’t know you had.
I can feel the energy of the place thrumming beneath my feet, a steady rhythm of contentment and peace. For a moment, I allow myself to believe that maybe this is how things could be, how they should be. But the feeling doesn’t last.
Something shifts. At first, it’s so subtle I almost miss it—a faint cooling of the air, a dimming of that golden light. I glance around, but everything still seems... fine. And yet, there’s a tension building, a sense that something is off. I see a woman falter, clutching at her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her skin, so full of life just moments before, turns ashen. She collapses to the ground, but no one seems to notice. They keep moving, keep laughing, as if nothing’s wrong.
It spreads, slowly at first. A man stumbles, then another. The golden light that filled the city begins to fade, and the warmth that wrapped around me turns cold. The laughter fades too, replaced by coughing—deep, gut-wrenching coughs. I watch as people fall, one by one, their faces twisted in pain, in fear. The joy that filled this place evaporates, leaving behind onlyshadows.
The panic hits like a wave, sweeping through the streets. Faces that were just moments ago so full of life are now pale, contorted with terror. Children cry out, their voices high and thin, as their small bodies shake with fever. Mothers scream, clutching their children to their chests, their eyes wide with horror. The streets are filling with the dead and dying, and the air is thick with the stench of sickness and decay.
I can hear them now, their voices rising in desperate, frantic prayers. “Please,” they beg, “help us!” They’re pleading, their hands outstretched to the heavens, their eyes searching for a god who will answer. But the sky remains silent, their cries echoing into the void.
I feel it all—their fear, their desperation—as if it’s my own. I want to scream, to run, but I’m rooted in place, forced to watch as the city crumbles before me. The light is almost gone now, leaving nothing but darkness and death. And just when I think it can’t get any worse, I hear it—a whisper that cuts through the noise, soft but unmistakable. “Why have you forsaken us?”
The words hang in the air, unanswered, as the last of the light fades away. And I’m left standing in the dark, the echo of their pleas ringing in my ears.
***
A soft knock on the door drags me from a restless sleep. I sit up groggily, my mind still tangled in the remnants of my nightmare. The knock comes again, more insistent this time. Someone is way too chipper for this hour.
“Come in,” I mumble, rubbing my eyes and trying to force my brain to cooperate.
The door opens, and Leigh steps in, carrying a bundle of fresh clothes and a steaming mug. “Good morning,” she says with a warm smile that feels too bright for my current mood. “I broughtyou something to wear and some coffee. Garet mentioned how much you love it.”
The sight of the coffee instantly perks me up, and the rich aroma does wonders for my still-foggy brain. “Thank you,” I say, practically snatching the mug from her. Priorities.
Leigh steps aside, revealing a tall, red-haired man standing just outside the doorway. “Eva, I wanted to introduce you to Emmet, your guard. He’ll be looking out for you while you’re here.”
Emmet steps into the room, his smile so dorky it’s almost endearing. “Good morning, Miss Eva,” he says, bowing slightly as if he’s in some long-forgotten era of chivalry.
I take a sip of my coffee, feeling a bit more human with each drop. “Good morning, Emmet,” I respond, trying to muster a smile. “Nice to meet you.” Because being rude to the guy who’s supposed to keep me safe doesn’t seem like the smartest move.
The coffee’s smooth and slightly bitter, warming me from the inside out. But something’s off. It’s not bad, just... missing something. I can’t quite place it, but it’s not like the coffee Kendry used to make. His coffee always had that hint of something special—a secret blend of spices that made it perfect. This? This is just... coffee.
