Shirley stood in shock, observing the bewildering scene that was playing out in front of her. It felt surreal, almost like she was in the middle of a strange, terrifying dream. She was momentarily paralyzed, caught in the throes of disbelief and uncertainty.
As this unfolded, Shireen extended her right hand in a deliberate, slow motion towards Shirley. Almost magnetically drawn to Shireen, Shirley began to move closer, her fingers reaching out to reciprocate the gesture. Just as their fingers were about to touch, a mysterious force enveloped Shireen’s arm, making it appear as if it were wrapped in tree bark. Instead of the expected soft touch of Shireen’s fingers, Shirley felt the coarse and rough texture of a solid branch. What was even more shocking was that this “branch” began to grow at an astonishing rate, spiraling upward towards the sky.
As the growth continued, the branches thickened, obscuring Shireen’s face behind a curtain of green leaves. Right before her complete transformation, a look of realization flashed across Shireen’s eyes. It was as if she wanted to convey a dire message to Shirley. However, before any message could be passed, her face became petrified, and she fully morphed into the form of a tree, leaving a young sapling in her place.
Overwhelmed by the bizarre transformation of her friend, Shirley tried to process the sight of Shireen turning into a tree and the urgency in Shireen’s final gaze. She remained rooted to the spot, grappling with a torrent of emotions and questions. One burning question echoed in her mind: How could someone, especially an elf, transform into a tree?
Amidst her confusion, a sinister wind whispered past her, bringing with it a palpable sense of danger. She snapped out of her reverie and sharply turned towards the origin of this foreboding feeling. In the twilight of the forest, she discerned a faint dark-red glow and smoky shadowy figures that disappeared as quickly as they appeared.
Her faithful companion, Dog, sensed a familiar and hateful energy— the unmistakable aura of a dark demon. It growled, “The Annihilators! They’ve been lurking in the shadows of the Suntists!”
Everything fell into place for Shirley. The Annihilators had orchestrated this trap, using the “Suntists” as bait to draw them out. Whether the two groups were allies or the Annihilators were simply manipulating the Suntists, their goal was clear: to take out both Shirley and Shireen. Yet, their plan went awry when the captain’s flame sensed a threat from a sun offspring and decimated the would-be attackers. The overpowering energy from the Suntists had camouflaged the Annihilators’ presence, but with their cover now exposed, they retreated hastily.
With her eyes fixed on the shadowy forest, Shirley contemplated giving chase but paused. She surveyed the clearing, taking note of the remnants of the Suntists – all reduced to ashen piles by a spectral fire. Flickers of ghostly green flames danced amongst the ash, slowly fading away.
The mysterious power, known as the captain’s flame, had disappeared as abruptly as it had appeared. Shirley was painfully aware that this powerful force was not something she could command or control. She realized that her recent escape from danger had more to do with the intervention of the flame than her own capabilities. There was no guarantee that this formidable force would intervene again on her behalf. She couldn’t help but wonder if the captain’s protective “mark” was just a one-time gesture.
To recklessly pursue into the unknown without the guaranteed protection of the flame seemed like a rash decision. If she ended up in a confrontation and found herself outmatched without the flame’s support, she would be in a perilous position.
But her momentary indecision was brief. Before the lingering remnants of dust and the haze of the forest could completely evade Dog’s keen senses, she braced herself, set her jaw, spat to the side in sheer determination, and plunged deeper into the forest’s obscurity.
As she dashed past the sapling that was once Shireen, the tree’s tender branches tenderly brushed against her, creating a gentle rustling that resonated in the silence of the forest.
After a seemingly endless sprint through the thick underbrush, both Shirley and Dog began to show signs of fatigue.
“Their scent is becoming fainter,” Dog commented, raising its massive head to scan the surroundings, its eyes glowing with a deep red intensity. “One among them is skilled in masking their presence. A death crow, perhaps? We need to tread carefully.”
A look of vexation crossed Shirley’s face as she whispered, “We were so close. I truly believed we might apprehend at least one of them.”
Dog, seemingly deep in thought, didn’t voice its concerns. Instead, it focused on pinpointing the elusive trail.
Suddenly, the quiet of the forest was punctuated by approaching footsteps. Shirley swiftly prepared herself, holding her chained weapon at the ready, every muscle coiled in anticipation. Emerging from the dense foliage, however, was not the cultist she had been expecting.
A young elf maiden, attired in lightweight hunting gear and brandishing a uniquely crafted long-handled battle-axe, stepped into the clearing. As Shirley’s gaze locked onto the elf, a feeling of recognition combined with incredulity overwhelmed her. While she understood that she was ensnared in some fantastical “dream,” the elf’s familiar visage stirred deep emotions within her. To Shirley’s surprise, the elf girl, with a touch of astonishment, spoke up.
“Weren’t you notified of the evacuation? Why are you still wandering outside the Silent Wall?”
Caught off guard, Shirley struggled to find her voice. When she finally tried to speak, the words were elusive. She gazed in bewilderment at the figure before her. This elf, bearing an uncanny resemblance to “Shireen”, seemed to not recognize her. Shirley realized with a sinking feeling that this wasn’t the same Shireen she had known. This was someone else entirely.
Still reeling from the unexpected appearance of the elf maiden that bore a striking resemblance to Shireen, Shirley’s senses were further strained as another set of footsteps echoed from behind the elf. Whirling around, her gaze settled upon a sight that was both familiar and comforting – a graceful young woman adorned in a flowing black dress, cradling an oversized plush rabbit toy in her embrace.
“Lucretia… Miss Witch?” The name slipped from Shirley’s lips, her surprise evident.
“Shirley?” As Lucretia emerged from the canopy of trees and glimpsed Shirley standing at the forest crossroads, the mystique surrounding the famed “Sea Witch” momentarily dissolved, revealing genuine astonishment. “I never imagined…”
The unexpected reunion momentarily rendered both of them speechless. As Shirley, with Dog by her side, oscillated her attention between the suddenly present Miss Witch and the elf maiden, her instinctual caution kicked in. “Perhaps for the sake of safety—”
Interrupting her, Lucretia quickly suggested, “We should confirm we’re really who we claim.”
Without wasting a beat, Shirley inquired, “Where did you place Alice’s head at noon yesterday?”
“Inside the pot,” came Lucretia’s swift response. She then presented her own question, “What’s the latest hobby my father has taken a liking to?”
“Fishing, strolling with the dog, and feeding pigeons,” Shirley responded confidently, “You’ve passed the test.”
Lucretia’s expression softened with relief. “As have you,” she remarked, relaxing her grip on the “command rod” she had been clutching. She carefully set the rabbit toy on the verdant forest floor. “This dream dimension certainly has its quirks. Caution is of the essence.”
Their shared understanding elicited a nod of agreement from Shirley. Breaking the momentary silence, the elf, whom Shirley had mentally dubbed “Shireen”, voiced her curiosity, “You two are acquainted?”
Lucretia responded with an air of nonchalance, “Yes, we’re comrades.”
Still disconcerted by the elf’s uncanny resemblance to her friend, Shirley shot her a puzzled look. Redirecting her attention to Lucretia, she inquired urgently, “Did you cross paths with any of the Annihilators on your journey here?”
“Annihilators?” Lucretia’s brow furrowed in thought, “I didn’t come across any. Why do you ask?”
“I not only ran into the Annihilators but also clashed with some Suntist culprits,” Shirley divulged with a tinge of frustration. “To my irritation, those cultists escaped my capture…”
She proceeded to recount her recent escapades to Lucretia, detailing her close call with a Suntist and the miraculous intervention of the captain’s flame. However, she tactfully omitted the part about “Shireen’s” startling transformation into a tree. After all, the elf named “Shireen” stood right next to them, absorbing every word of their conversation with rapt attention.
Before they could delve deeper into the mystery of these “Shireen” doppelgangers, it was crucial to ensure that nothing unpredictable or untoward occurred involving them.
Having recapped her recent encounters, Shirley lamented, “Dog and I tracked them with unwavering persistence, and yet, when victory seemed within grasp, they managed to slip away.” She took a deep breath, a look of vexation evident on her face. “One of them, the ‘death crow’, possesses the uncanny ability to mask auras and distort reality. Such an opponent is quite challenging, even for someone as perceptive as Dog.”
Lucretia, with a contemplative expression, surveyed the encompassing woods. The trees and foliage appeared indistinguishable, regardless of the direction one looked. After a moment of contemplation, she asked, “You noted earlier that the Annihilators took to their heels only after witnessing the ghost flame obliterate the Suntists?”
Shirley nodded, confirming, “Indeed. They bolted without a second’s hesitation, completely disregarding the fate of their so-called ‘comrades’.”
Lucretia, attempting to piece together the puzzle, probed, “So, it’s possible that the sight of my father’s ethereal flame unnerved them, sending them into a panic-stricken retreat?”
Shirley responded, “That seems to be the case,” but her voice carried undertones of doubt. She quizzically tilted her head, “Is there something about that scenario you find perplexing?”
Lucretia, choosing to sidestep Shirley’s question, looked down at the plush rabbit toy resting beside her. She seemed to be communicating non-verbally with it. “Rabbi, I sense you’re in tune with our conversation.”
Reacting to Lucretia’s acknowledgment, the toy bunny shifted slightly and let out a grumpy mutter, “Rabbi abhors these cultists. Their minds are foul, tainted with malevolent thoughts.”
Lucretia, with an air of expectancy, lifted her command rod as a silent directive.
Without further delay, the rabbit, in an almost child-like manner, exclaimed, “Fine, fine! Rabbi gets it. Rabbi will seek them out. Just ensure you don’t forget to bring Rabbi back to this realm!”
She urged it further, “Proceed swiftly… while their recent scare is still fresh.”
With a nonchalant nod, the toy rabbit seemed to implode in a spectacle of white, sketch-like tendrils of smoke that billowed outward, temporarily masking its whimsical yet slightly unsettling shape. As the smoke cleared, the toy’s form had vanished, leaving Shirley momentarily astounded.
