My dreams were not sweet.
I was lost in a faded land, a place where the sky and grass both shimmered with a dim, colorless light—as though the world had been drained of hue and heat. The air was still. Silent. Too silent. Even the grass beneath my feet—if it was grass—felt wrong. It was smooth and springless, like walking on pressed paper.
The only thing in this pale void was a mirror. It stood tall and freestanding, a strange relic in this shapeless world. At first, I saw only my reflection… and then I saw her.
Me—but not me.
I took a step forward, my footsteps making no sound. The ground didn't change, didn't bend, or press down beneath my weight. It was endless and unmoving, just like the sky.
I stared into the mirror and felt a chill grip me. My reflection was sickly and thin, my long hair limp as if it had been soaked and dried and soaked again. My eyes… dull, distant, vacant. No light lived behind them. I looked like a version of myself that had been forgotten.
A surge of panic clutched at my chest. The kind that rises when you realize something is deeply, terribly wrong. I turned around—only to find nothing. Just that flat, pale grass and blank sky. No exit. No edge. This place could've been the inside of a box or an entire endless world. I didn't know which frightened me more.
Would I prefer if it was a coffin that I could find the sides of, or would it be better if I could stumble on forever through this strange void?
The mirror rippled like water.
I froze.
It wasn't just a mirror—it was a doorway. And beyond it, I saw jungle. My jungle. Bright, sun-soaked jungle. The reflection—she—stood in it, birds fluttering behind her like confetti. The light caught on her face just so. It should have been beautiful. But it wasn't.
Because those eyes… they were still dead.
We moved at the same time. Raised our hands. Our fingertips met with a soft resistance—a thin, invisible veil.
The moment we touched, something inside me screamed. A scream that built up, filled my chest, and—
I gasped awake.
Air ripped into my lungs like I'd been drowning. My arms flailed instinctively, searching for purchase, for something real.
"Vie! Calm down!"
A voice—familiar, urgent—cut through the haze.
"Vie, it's Cassi! Cassi!"
I thrashed harder until all the fire drained from my limbs and I collapsed back into the bed. The fur underneath was slick with my own sweat.
"You've spiked a fever," Cassi said, pressing something cold and damp to my forehead. His voice had that careful steadiness people used when trying not to sound afraid. "You must have been more seriously injured than I realized. Your legs are infected, I shouldn't have made you walk all that way."
"No," I whispered, my voice raw, barely there. Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes as that other version of myself filled my mind again.
"Vie, you're not making any sense." His hands pressed gently against my shoulders, holding me down with more care than strength. "You're sick, Vie. You're very sick."
"Her eyes," I sobbed. "They were mine—but they were empty."
"Whose eyes?" Cassi's voice sounded like it came from far away. Fading. Like I was slipping underwater again.
I felt him gather me into his arms. His chest rose and fell beneath my cheek, his sweat mixing with mine. He held me like I was something small and fragile. Something worth saving.
I cried into his shirt, great trembling sobs.
"Shhh," he murmured, brushing the hair back from my face. "I've got you, Vie. I won't ever let you go. Do you understand me? You're going to be okay."
When was the last time someone held me like this—like I was precious? Not a burden. Not a mistake. Just… me.
"I miss my sister," I choked out. "She's all alone with Father now because I came out here."
"Shhh," Cassi whispered again, lowering me gently back to the bed. He hovered there, watching me like he was unsure if I might fall apart again. I didn't move. I just let the tears fall freely now.
He wiped the sweat from my forehead, over and over, with a soaked cloth. Then I felt a cooling paste against the cuts on my legs. His fingers moved gently, muttering something under his breath as he worked.
I tried to make out his words but they were lost on the soft breeze.
Then he brought the medicine to my lips. The tart tonic first, then the sweet one. Familiar. Warm. My body welcomed it like an old friend.
The world softened at the edges. My thoughts slowed. I stopped gripping so tightly at the frayed corners of my fear.
And then, I slept.
This time, there were no dreams.