Upon entering Dorothy's house, an uncomfortable sensation ran down my back, as if a cold thread were sliding between my vertebrae.
The place was too silent… too empty. That silence that doesn't belong to a lived-in house, but to the womb of something watching.
I searched everywhere hoping to find Elma, but there was no trace of her. Not a step, not a note, not a strand of her hair.
The only thing I found left me completely confused: four white cats, perfectly arranged on the kitchen floor, forming an almost ritualistic circle, as if they were summoning a demon… or preparing to become one.
Their tails moved with ceremonial slowness, tracing lazy curves in the air.
Their eyes, large, moist, almost glowing with melodrama, watched me as if I had interrupted an ancestral meeting.
— Meow-meow. Armor wanted to be a knight too, meow —said one in a muffled, deep, existentialist voice—. So together we became a knight, meow. Armor put itself on us. We put on armor. We became the strongest knight, meow…
Another cat, with a posture so proud it seemed born with a mustache, added:
— Meow-meow. Spirit of chivalry is prride-meow.
Between the strange feline philosophy and the smell of old sardines floating in the air, I lost what little patience I had left.
— I'd better call Dorothy. I don't have time for cats.
The four looked at me with a mix of Greek tragedy and maternal reproach. Before one could drop another "enlightened meow," I summoned Dorothy.
She appeared confused, blinking as if she'd woken from an uncomfortable nap. Then she recognized the kitchen.
— Huh…? Am I home?
Then she saw the cats.
The change was immediate. Her eyes went from soft to blazing like embers.
— Wait a second! Who let you stay here?!
One of the cats, the smallest, stepped forward with a bow so dramatic it almost touched the floor.
— We're sorry, meow. We're strays, meow. Please let us stay until we find a new home, meow.
Dorothy, inexplicably, exhaled as if someone had doused her anger with a bucket of water.
— …Oh well. Fine. Do whatever you want.
The cats celebrated as if they had defeated a king in battle.
— Meow-meow. What a kind lady. Deeply grateful meow.
Dorothy's eyes widened in surprise.
— L-lady…? Do I look like one!? Hehehe…
I delivered the final blow without mercy.
— Of course you look like a lady. A very beautiful one.
She froze completely. Blush exploded on her cheeks like a bursting spell.
— Y-you… you… hehehe… How embarrassing! —she waved her hand as if trying to swat my words away—. Silence, don't go on!
She turned immediately, looking for an escape as if the heat on her face forced her to flee.
— I have to go. Don't follow me. I have… things to do. See you.
She opened the door clumsily and practically shot out.
Alone again, I inspected the house once more in case I'd missed a clue. Nothing.
I checked the bedroom, the living room, even Dorothy's wardrobe… but Elma wasn't there.
I sighed and stepped out into the abandoned forest.
The damp air hit my face. The smell of old wood, mushrooms and wet leaves clung to my clothes. The silence there was different: a living silence… one that stalked.
As I walked, I remembered that Elizabeth had lost a ring from her ex-partner. One that was valuable, emotional, and perhaps dangerous in the wrong hands.
— Well… two birds with one stone.
I rummaged through trash, broken boxes, piles of leaves, until a metallic glint caught my eye.
The ring lay on an old box, as if it had been waiting for me to find it. I picked it up, shook off the dust, and continued toward the sacred forest.
Elizabeth was still searching, on her knees among roots, with a desperation that almost hurt to watch.
— That ring… —she whispered upon seeing it in my hand—. Did you find it somewhere…? Yes?
— Yes. It was in the abandoned forest, lying on a box.
— Then it's mine… Could you give it back to me?
When I handed it to her, something in her seemed to light up, as if a shadow had lifted. She pressed the ring to her chest.
— I am deeply grateful… —she murmured with a tenderness so soft it felt like wind—. It's my precious wedding ring. I must reward you somehow. Let me think about it… and please, visit me soon.
I nodded.
— Sure. Before I go… have you seen a young girl around here?
She thought for a few seconds.
— Yes. She came from the abandoned forest and entered here. She must be somewhere in the sacred forest.
I thanked her and ran.
I searched everywhere but nothing. Only my quickened breath and the distant buzz of insects.
I went south, to the lake.
The murmur of the water guided me. And then I heard a laugh, soft, almost seductive.
I saw her.
Victoria.
Submerged to the waist, bathing. Her wet skin gleamed as if the sun were lingering on her.
When she noticed my presence, she tensed slightly. She looked over her shoulder, barely covering herself with her arms.
— Ah… Master… I beg your pardon… for showing you this skinny body…
Skinny. If that was skinny, I was an elf.
Without her uniform, her figure was more dangerous, more defined, more… lethal.
She approached. Each step made the water slide sparkles across her skin.
— Master… what do you wish me to do? —she whispered, as if her words caressed the air.
I stepped back. She advanced two.
Her clothes fell to the ground.
My brain shut down.
My soul left my body to take a walk.
— Master? —she said in a trembling, mischievous voice—. Did you come to spy on me because you wanted to see Victoria naked? ♡
My heart threatened to break ribs.
I was one second away from losing control, from diving headfirst into her temptation.
But before… I fled.
I took one step back.
Then another.
And ran as if she were the embodiment of fire.
— Masteeer? —her voice behind me sounded sweet and dangerous—. And here I wanted you to take me right here… Master is strangely pure… but that makes him charming. One day I… fufu… ♡
I didn't know if I was running from danger… or from desire.
I reached the bonfire in the sacred forest. Breathed deeply. Tried to steady the heartbeat that threatened to smoke.
But still… Elma did not appear.
I didn't stop.
I went east, toward the Behemoth ranch.
A small fairy floated there. Silent. Motionless. Staring at a tree with an almost restrained expression.
Goose wasn't there.
The atmosphere held a tension hard to ignore.
I followed the fairy's gaze.
And then I saw her.
Elma.
Sitting on the ground. Back turned. Body hunched forward as if trying to make herself small.
Her shoulders shook.
Her hands covered her face.
She was crying.