Nuriel found his body in the cold embrace of the void. He was certain that he had just strummed Vivienne's golden string, and yet he found himself floating in emptiness.
In a hurry, he imagined himself to be invisible, but it didn't work.
Wriggling about did not help much. Every time he threw out an arm or kicked out a leg, his motion did not shift. Other than that he could breathe, it seemed as though he was fixed in zero gravity.
'This is not good' He zipped his head left and right, but he could not look behind him because of the lack of gravity.
After the futile effort, he decided to look at the space around him. However, he saw nothing. Staring into the void without a point of reference pained his eyesight. It was like seeing with his eyes closed.
Nuriel's heart began to beat harder and louder. He then decided to call for his last resort.
"Scepter?" he asked into the void around him.
. . .
There was no response to his call for help, but in the next moment, Nuriel somehow felt the empty void around him quake. Even his body quivered uncontrollably, as if an earthquake was happening inside his abdomen.
After around ten seconds, the shaking stopped. Then a booming noise slammed through Nuriel's ears and into his very mind.
There was once a princess born from the love of two devoted royals. She was raised with grace, surrounded by scholars and sages, her days filled with lessons in poetry, history, and the etiquette expected of nobility.
But one peaceful afternoon, her family visited a famous park on the edge of the kingdom. It was known for its flowering trees and tranquil lakes, but near its border lay a strange forest that was said to never return those who entered.
Curious and spirited, the princess wandered too close, and just like the stories warned, she never came back.
With the loss of their only child, the kingdom slowly withered. The court turned cold. And in time, the legacy of the royal family was reduced to nothing but a fading memory.
The narrator consumed Nuriel's very being. Around him, the space changed into that of a foggy forest, where he was dropped from a meter in the air and slammed onto the hard dirt.
After moaning in pain, he staggered to his feet while patting off the dirt clinging to his clothes. Almost immediately, he imagined himself to be invisible once more, but again, nothing happened.
'Is this really inside Vivienne's mind?' He asked himself, hoping for a valid answer.
Looking around the fog-ridden forest and recalling the narrator's strange story, Nuriel had his doubts but still kept the possibility that he was inside Vivienne's dream.
But the fact that he couldn't use the powers of the untainted scepter to morph proved to be the most dangerous worry he had.
Nuriel began walking aimlessly through the forest, hopping between trees so he could quickly hide in the event of encountering a figure.
After a couple of minutes of sneaking around, he eventually stumbled upon an old-looking wooden cabin. Stopping just far enough to make out the rough details of the old wood, he hid behind a tree.
Then the same noise from before engulfed him, followed by the same narrator that took over all of his mind. At that point, it was no longer just hearing the narrator but directly experiencing what the narrator meant in the form of a mix of ideas and will.
The princess wandered deeper into the woods, her silk dress now caked with mud.
Then, just as the weight of fear began to settle on her chest, she saw an old cabin, as if it had been forgotten by time. The scent of something cooking hung in the air, soft and strangely comforting.
'Cooking?... huh?' Nuriel wondered what the narrator meant.
In thought, something crept up his nose, filling his mind with pleasure and churning his stomach in an odd but pleasant way. It smelled exactly like fried bacon.
Bacon?
Before Nuriel could question the situation, a girl suddenly appeared in front of the cabin. To his surprise, just like what the narrator said, her silk clothing was indeed covered in a thin layer of mud.
'Princess... cooking?'
The realization slapped him across the face, but at least the fact that he was in Vivienne's dream subdued the mental pain.
He continued spying from behind the tree, observing the princess who, after a while of fidgeting, mustered up the courage to approach and knock on the door.
Her presence was answered in a moment's notice, the door opening amidst her knocking.
An old man emerged from the shadowy doorway and spoke. However, despite Nuriel's best efforts, he could not hear the two conversing—only seeing the movement of their mouths.
After trying to move closer, the noise engulfed him again as the scene around him ripped apart into film-like tapes, revealing the void, before another set of new film stitched a different scene.
But it wasn't only the space that changed.
During the transformation, Nuriel was suddenly stripped naked. His clothes split into several horizontal cuts, unfurling into the void before returning in different colors.
The new cuts wrapped tightly around his body.
Short cotton sleeves, long pants, and an apron that stretched from his waist down to his shins.
His hair, usually wavy and brushing the back of his neck, became alive as they were arranging and tying themselves neatly before a chef's cap landed squarely on top.
"This is... getting weirder..." he muttered under a discreet chuckle.
Before he even got to admire the new look, the scene finished tying itself together.
Almost immediately, his ears were assaulted by a mix of shouts and screams, along with a wave of heated air pushing against his face.
"If you sauté scallops in a nonstick pan, they won't stick! That's why it's called fucking nonstick!"
The loud chef screamed at the top of his lungs at the ants working their stations. Frying, boiling, cutting, preparing, serving.
"Yes, chef!" the entire kitchen responded, almost leaving Nuriel speechless.
He stood motionless in the chaos, observing every detail that stood out of place. In the end, he found nothing odd. The entire space felt vivid, from the smell, the noise, even the slight taste of food in the air.
"Where are the diced onions? I need them!" someone shouted from the back, towards his general direction.
Nuriel blinked as he felt something in his hands. Looking down, he noticed a knife he hadn't realized he was holding. Ahead of him, a bundle of white onions waited patiently on the chopping board.
Nuriel connected the onions, the knife, and the shouting stranger.
His expression twitched into a crooked smile.
Perhaps, this was all a dream... Well, it is a dream, it's just not his.
. . .
'How do I dice onions?'