Garden Of The Abyss

"...Or maybe, I'm just dreaming," he said out loud, shrugging his shoulders.

Though he said that, he didn't believe it for a second as he began to stroll through the capital, recounting his steps as he tried to figure out his way back to the inn.

In any case, I need to go back to the inn…the city seems empty, but it's worth a shot if Emilia is there, he thought.

Strolling through the town had a certain, surreal sense to it; parts of the landscape either seemed more vibrant, or dulled out, more detailed, or foggy to his eyes.

Floating in the air, sometimes right past him as he watched, large bubbles floated about, sometimes carrying colorful, aquatic life in their hold.

Passing through the marketplace, it was absent of the plethora of merchants, and even more abundant shoppers. The same was found when he crossed through the plaza, finding not even the street performers left as he looked up once more at the sky of water up above.

Even though it's most likely territorial magic, it's kind of…relaxing. This really is odd, he thought.

He kept his guard up, despite his lax posture; it was an attempt to lure whatever may be the cause of this out to attack him, but no such attack came yet.

"Guess there really is nobody here, huh?" He muttered, keeping his hands in his pockets.

After ascending the steps to the children's playground, the giggles and carefree sounds of children playing were long gone, replaced by the still winds.

Though he knew he walked through Yulimium, it felt as if it was a different world he traversed; one without answers or logic.

It wasn't long until he found the inn once again after retracing his steps, standing before its entrance for a moment before entering.

Silence.

Though it wasn't abnormal for the establishment to be without sound, or much presence for that matter, it still left him unsettled as he slowly took his steps through the halls.

Hmm…if she's gone, what's the next move? If that's the case…I'll probably have to go all-out, he thought.

As the thought occurred, he stopped in front of the room he had booked, leaving his hand just in front of the handle before clenching it.

Retaining a breath past his lips, he turned the handle as it squeaked out with one of the few sounds inhabiting the liminal environment before pulling the door open.

"It's just me," he said.

–In the moment the door had opened, a blade was to his throat, held by the shorter, but cat-eyed, vibrantly-haired woman who looked at him for a moment.

He smiled despite having a dagger to his throat, simply because he realized he wasn't alone in the peculiar space.

"You should learn to knock first," she told him.

"I think we're past that," he said, using his finger to push the dagger held to his skin away, "who else would come through this door, anyway?"

"Whatever," she huffed, flipping the dagger before tucking it in a sheathe beneath her cloak, sitting back down on the bedside.

He stood there for a moment, still left perplexed by what he experienced before walking through that door as he approached the window.

Looking beyond the clear pane, he saw that the sky was no longer replaced by a sea, but back to its normal, orthodox state with fluffy clouds slowly making their journey. Weirder than that, it was a bright, shade-cast noon before he entered the inn, but now what he saw was a black, star-filled sky of the night.

"Weird question, but did you notice anything weird about the sky while I was gone?" He asked, keeping his gaze set on what laid beyond the window.

Emilia raised an eyebrow, "No? Why're you asking that?"

"...Huh," he mumbled, "Maybe I did drink too much."

Catching those words that left his lips in a quiet mutter, the amber-haired woman shot him a sharp glance.

"You were drinking?"

"...Urr, perhaps?" He answered, averting his gaze.

Of course, he knew that would be a problem for the one who took this mission with paramount sternness.

"I already don't trust your judgment, but I did, just to be fair," Emilia told him with her hands at her hips, "...getting drunk is way beyond that!"

"Right, right, my bad," he brushed her words off, flopping down on his bed.

As he laid against the cushioned mattress, he looked up at the ceiling, zoning out of the reprimanding that Emilia was giving him while he pondered.

"...This is what I hate about you most, Sirius Federov," Emilia spoke with a trembling bottom lip, "Even when you say you're trying, when you tell someone you're giving it you're all–it's a lie. You can never be honest. You think so highly of your own strength that you think your actions or words hold no weight to the end result. You're the very definition of hubris."

He laid there as if not hearing a single word she said, facing the wall, though he heard every last bit of it.

They were words spoken from the depths of her being, but he still paid them little mind in the end.

He didn't respond. He sat there for a few minutes in the quiet room with just his thoughts.

There's no way that was just a drunken stupor. I know magic when I see it, he thought.

Sitting up, he spoke without frivolity, "Did you finish whatever it was you were working on?"

"Huh? Of course I did," she huffed, "unlike you, I've been productive. I managed to establish an anti-magic leyline around the east district brothel."

I'll keep this to myself, for now, he thought with a smile.

After a moment, he responded after thinking to himself, "An anti-magic leyline? Won't that affect you too?"

Emilia fiddled with her hair, nodding, "It doesn't change anything. I just need to make sure the target doesn't escape with a magic rune, or some sort of ability he has up his grimy sleeve. If it's just one-on-one…" She trailed her words, flipping her daggers around her fingers, "It'll be over without a hitch."

I really don't think she likes the very plan she came up with. She hasn't outright said it yet, but I'm assuming she's going to disguise herself as a brothel worker to lure Briswall in. Still, I think she hates sleazy merchants like him even more, he thought.

"I see," he smiled, laying back on his bed as the lantern on the middle desk stayed illuminated, "Well, I'll leave it to you!"

After giving her a quick smile and a thumbs-up, he didn't waste any time throwing a blanket over himself.

Closing his eyes, he realized the alcohol was still very much in his system; though he wasn't exactly intoxicated, it did lead him to shut his eyes with the prospect of sleep awaiting.

"Goodnight~" he yawned out with his eyes closed.

"Just keep quiet, will you?" Emilia replied quietly, through a much meeker voice.

"Ah, that side of you is actually kind of cute, you know?" He teased, opening one eye to look at her.

Emilia's cheeks quickly shifted to an embarrassed, flustered red, "Go to sleep already!"

He yawned out again, "Workin' on it."

With a smile, satisfied to garner such a reaction from the cold-exteriored assassin, he brought his night to a close.

Or, so he had hoped.

As swiftly as he brought his eyes to a close, drifting along the nothingness of hopeful unconsciousness, his eyes opened just moments later.

–It was a familiar, lonely feeling that was present in the room now.

He quickly brought himself up, looking to the side, "Emilia…?"

There was no such person present in the room who that name belonged to. He brought himself out of bed, throwing his coat and cape back on as he peered outside of the window.

"...What's this?" He asked himself.

Replacing the star-filled night sky was a horizon of twisted darkness; crimson skies melded themselves into an endless parade of contorted faces that traversed the sky–laughing in a low, distorted echo.

If what he experienced before was a serene dream, what he found himself in now was a nightmare.