The Wandering Fairy Chapter 3: Eyes of the Fairy

Soren reached out to the levitating book and observed as the fountain pen vanished into thin air, as if it had never existed in the first place. This did not invoke any surprise in him, as his thoughts had already trailed away from wanting to record anything. It did, however, confirm to him that his abilities were intrinsically tied to his thoughts, both activating and deactivating them.

Just as he was about to flick through the pages of his Soul Weapon, his ears suddenly shot up as sounds he had never heard before swiftly entered his ears. They were noises he should have expected to hear from the beginning; sounds that mirrored and echoed the feel of a forest. From the distant audible sounds of woodpeckers drilling holes into trees, to insects buzzing around him that he had only just now noticed—a flood of information rushed into his mind faster than he could process. He was already feeling overwheld by the aromas of countless fauna surrounding him, both close and far, and now there was another sensation for him to focus on.

What the hell?

The silence of the forest he had only just adapted to had now been replaced by the chaotic sounds of nature. He felt as if he was a monochromacy patient, finally seeing color for the first ti. How could this be? From the chirping of birds to the ruffling of leaves and bushes… No wonder he was so anxious before this. His mind had already alerted him of sothing feeling off ever since his awakening, but it was only now that he was beginning to notice the reason behind it.

Why did I not hear any of these noises from the start? What the hell is up with this forest? Chills were running up and down his spine. His eyes were trailing off into the direction of the noises, past the twisted treeline blocking his vision. He had no idea how close so of these animals had been to him; if he had failed to hear them and entered into their territory accidentally, would he not have been viciously attacked? He gulped down a mouthful of saliva.

Although the laughter he had heard earlier was creepy, what he was currently experiencing felt much worse. Sothing was clearly off about this forest from the very beginning. The mont his vision had returned to him, he had spotted a large bird with feathers more enchanting than the autumn leaves. And yet, not once had he heard that bird chirp or make a noise, even with its wings casting the air in all directions. And only a few monts later, all semblance of the creature, and whatever flock it belonged to, had disappeared completely.

But just as he was about to make heads or tails of his current predicant, he realized sothing more unsettling. His sense of sll—it had vanished faster than even the fountain pen of his Soul Weapon. Instead of the earthly aroma of jasmine flowers and damp soil, his nose detected nothing but the sterile, antiseptic cleanliness of a hospital room. The once vibrant adow had turned into an inodorous void.

At this point, the adrenaline was shooting through his body like fireworks. Not only had he failed to realize his sense of hearing had most likely been altered with, he could now no longer even feel a whiff of the countless honeysuckle flowers scattered across the adow. He watched as they all swayed happily in the wind, unable to even grasp a fraction of the despair he was currently feeling.

His lips curled into a deep frown. I need to find a way out of here, fast. Soone or sothing is clearly fucking with …

He glanced down at the golden shimring book in his hands. His Soul Weapon’s pages continued to flutter like flas, and yet…

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The book felt cold? No, that wasn’t it either. It wasn’t a matter of hot or cold. It was a disconcerting absence, as if he had been turned into a ghost that could pass through anything. His fingers and palms were left feeling like phantoms trying to grasp an illusion.

So not only did my sense of sll disappear, but also my sense of touch? How could this be…

There was no longer any hesitation in his eyes. Regardless of his missing senses, his gut feeling remained the sa: whatever was currently happening to him was dangerous. The situation would most likely continue to deteriorate if he could not find a solution or an answer to what was currently happening to him.

Swiftly, he flicked through the ethereal chapters of his Soul Weapon back to the first page. The status sheet he had seen had not changed at all. However, there was a section beneath it that was entirely new. The following words were transcribed:

Event Log

New Entry Recorded: [Blue Silver Grass]

He knit his brows. That’s it?.. A lump began to form in his throat.

So out of the entire experint, it only recorded the na of this grass? How the hell did it even know the na of it in the first place? He ground his teeth in frustration. Could it be that he was destined to lose all his senses and die without knowing why it happened? His mind was racing to reject this notion with every aspect of his will.

Fuck, what the hell should I do? Maybe I should scream for help?! No, that might attract those animals instead! How the hell do I escape from sothing I can’t even see?! He was grappling with a phenonon that he couldn't even understand, like trying to fight a shadow in the dark.

Suddenly, an idea struck him. Maybe it was out of desperation or he had always been a genius, but the thought of perceiving the unknown reminded him of a certain phrase: “See the unseen.”

Just as the thought entered his mind, his vision slowly turned into pastel colors. He stared down at the glowing book in his hands. Its shimring had not ceased one bit. But sothing was different this ti. Strange butterflies made of glowing gold burst out from within the chapters of his Soul Weapon, rushing straight into his hazel eyes.

His vision shifted once more—infiltrated by countless ethereal spirit-like beings, and with them ca a haze of information. The pastel colors dissipated, leaving behind a sh of congruent shapes and objects. Looking beyond the scope of the adow, strange configurations were morphing indefinitely before his eyes, like fractals trapped within a never ending renaissance painting GIF. The nauseating scene almost made him throw up his lunch from a few hours ago… Was it even a few hours ago? His sense of ti had warped; he could no longer even tell up from bottom, or left from right.

And yet, within this haziness, he could see more clearly than anyone else. He could see the unseen. And that unseen… It was grotesque in nature.

Wrapped around his body were strange strands of skin that slithered across him like snakes. They twisted and twirled into loops around his feet and upper body, while others simply phased through his stomach and out his back. Soren was just about to scream when all fear left his body. The buildup of dread instantly vanished like smoke.

He imdiately realized what had happened. The entity clinging to him had consud his emotions and he could no longer feel anything but emptiness—as if he was nothing but a passive spectator to his own body and soul. An indifferent movie-goer who could not relate to any of the characters on display. That character, however, just so happened to be himself.

Soren twisted his neck slowly, and the face of the monster behind this egregious attack ca into focus. Behind the sh of fractals was a shape of a large, pale-skinned child. His eyes were pitch black, hiding a deep void within, while the rest of his body beyond his head was made up of an orchestra of skin tentacles that clung around his body. So of them even phased through him, as if he was a specter.

The entity stared directly into Soren’s eyes with an amused expression. There was a hint of mockery in its tone.

“Ẏ̴̱ô̸͙̼ủ̸͇ c̴̀̐á̵̤͛n̵͆ ̶͠sè̴͔e̶̛̽ ̶̘̖̉m̶͑̐e…”