The darkness was a suffocating blanket, and in its center, Aysel was trapped. Her heart was a frantic drumbeat against her ribs, a frantic rhythm that echoed the gaping hole in her memory. Where did she got Felix? How? Since when? The thought was a fleeting spark, swallowed by the void.
A single, metallic drip sliced through the silence, then another, and another, each one a slow hammer blow against her nerves. Panic swelled as she tried to move, to lift a hand, but her body was a stranger's, heavy and unresponsive.
Suddenly, the trickle became a torrent. Icy water slammed into her, an overwhelming flood that soaked her clothes and stung her skin. She thrashed internally, her eyes wide and desperate, searching the inky blackness for a way out. Just as the water threatened to drown her, it vanished. The floor beneath her did too, leaving her weightless, breathless, hanging in nothingness.
Then came the sickening lurch, the plunge into the abyss. A scream echoed around her, not from her own throat, but from some distant, tortured place. It was a scream of pure terror, a voice she didn't recognize screaming a name she'd never heard as she fell endlessly into the void.
* * * *
She shot upright, gasping for air, her skin slick with sweat.
"You're awake."
The voice was a child's, small and clear, and it made the hairs on Aysel's arms stand on end. She stiffened, a shiver running down her spine as she slowly turned her head. There, on the table, sat her cat, Felix.
But this was no ordinary cat. He was propped on his haunches, his back legs crossed in a posture of refined annoyance. A massive scroll, bigger than he was, lay open before him.
He looked up from the parchment, his expression a mix of frustration and indignation. The scene was absurd, something pulled from a cartoon: a tiny, grumpy cat with an air of profound irritation. He threw the scroll to the floor, the sound a surprisingly loud clap in the quiet room. Then, with a casual grace that defied his size, he gripped the edge of the table with his paws, his leg paws dangling as he attempted to reach the nearby chair.
Aysel was still processing the sight of her cat-turned-anime-character when Felix suddenly stood before her. "So—" he began, his voice small but filled with a profound authority. He stood on his hind legs, his tiny paws resting on his hips in a perfect imitation of a hero. Aysel could only stare, her confusion mounting with every passing second.
"You don't need those scrolls," he announced, gesturing back at the abandoned parchment. "I am the ever genius guardian of Scylla who can help you!"
"Eh? Really?" Aysel questioned, her head tilted to the left in a gesture of pure disbelief.
"You ungrateful brat!" Felix snapped, his tiny paw slapping Aysel's arm.
She barely felt it, a faint tap that she laughed off. The sting of his words was nonexistent. All she felt was a wave of relief, a profound gratitude that her cat was alive, well, and, inexplicably, talking. In this strange, confusing country, she wasn't alone.