Then I sneeze.
Then Ryder.
Then River.
We all fall into a ridiculous chain reaction—sneezes, coughs, sniffles piling on top of each other until we’re gasping, and laughing and choking all at once.
Then the forest begins to…ripple.
The trees stretch and sway like reflections in disturbed water. The flowers—
I blink.
They’remelting.
Yellow drips down the bark in glowing rivers, bleeding into blue, then purple, then neon pink, until the entire forest is a swirling, impossible kaleidoscope.
“My leg… My leg doesn’t hurt anymore.” Nala says, her words sounding hazy in my ears.“Your nose looks funny,” Nala says in slow motion, prodding it with a finger.
Her own face melts at the edges, her features sliding like wet paint.
“Your face,” I gasp, trying to fix her drooping smile, but the moment my hands rise, Ryder’s hand interrupts my view.
“Something’s not right—we need to—”
He stops. His expression shifts from stern to utterly lost.
“Wait… what was I saying?” he murmurs, staring at his own hands like they’re new.
I look at him—reallylook at him—and it’s like seeing him for the first time. No word could describe him properly. No alphabet could hold him. His beauty isn’t crafted—it’s conjured. A storm carved out of silk and shadow.
Pink hearts float around him. Actual floating hearts. My vision hums with them.
“I need him,” I whisper. “You were saying you’re the most handsomest person to ever exist!” I giggle, clinging to his arm.
“I’m sure it was important…” Ryder mutters, distracted, turning his hands over. “It must’ve been important.”
“No… you were saying we need… to sleep!” River suddenly proclaims, pointing upward at a canopy that is now stretching, shrinking, and rotating like a wheel. His eyelids droop heavily.
“Yeah… I’m beat,” Nala yawns, eyes rolling back.
“Me tooooooooo,” I sing, stretching as a thick, warm wave of exhaustion wraps around me.
The world softens.
Colours melt.
Sound sinks.
Then—
nothing.
Only dark.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The world as I know it melts away, liquifying slowly and taking me with it. The colours of my reality seem to be alive as they blur and intertwine, dancing as one and making a mess of my head, so beautiful yet broken, hiding within the cracks of my sanity. Like a shattered piece of glass sprawled out on a canvas to create art, they dance to a single sound—a high-pitched shrill that vibrates through my skull and could drive even the strongest enchanters to insanity.
