The Afterlife Academy Saga

Chapter 5

5

Was this real?

I blinked ferociously, hoping to clear the fog away. While the corners of my vision were still blurred and the light hurt, there was no mistake. I could see again.

“I can see!” I cheered, soaking in all the beauties of the world. I’d never had much appreciation for the mundane things, but right now, there was nothing more beautiful. The dark patterns swirling in the wood, the dancing flame of the torches lighting up the snow, the shaded grey in the sky.

It was so good to be able to see the world again, to use my eyes to navigate and balance myself. What a difference this was compared to the slow shuffling forward, always worried I’d fall or bump into something.

“Zen, I can see,” I repeated, turning towards the young girl. “I thought you said it would last an entire day.”

She smiled. “It usually does, but sometimes you get your vision back early. It doesn’t always happen, so I didn’t want to get your hopes up. You should be careful though. Too much light during recovery and you might have lasting effects from the snowsnare.”

“It’ll be fine.” Laughing, I swung my cane around. It had served me well, but I didn’t need it anymore. It was just a branch now.

With my vision restored, I could go down to the forest. I turned around, ready to depart only to be met with more snow than I’d ever seen in my life. White plains that stretched so vast, there seemed no end to them. Without any way to navigate through it, setting off in search for a forest was suicide. I knew that from experience now. Aware of the dangers of the Deep Mountains, I wasn’t confident I’d be able to navigate and avoid another injury. The risks were high, but so was the reward…

“Don’t even think about it,” Zen interjected. “It’ll be at least two days until the weather clears and you can go anywhere outside the village.”

“What? How—”

“You had that same look before you stormed out of the cabin. Do I need to remind you how that ended?”

The memory of the freezing cold still tingled in my bones. “No, I remember.”

“Okay. No more running away.”

“I won’t.”

She shot me a decisive look that shouldn’t have been possible coming from a teenager. “Alright then.”

Just as I was about to follow her in, my pocket moved and two sets of ears poked out. “Hfff?” Pickles wobbled her nose and shook her fluff, not bothered by the temperature.

“There, there, no need to get uneasy. We’ll be back with Ryoko in no time,” I promised, the thought of seeing the Dragon girl again, warming my heart. It would be great to be near her, to hear her voice, to see her beautiful smile, to hold her hand.

I missed her and this entire thing would’ve been so much more fun with her by my side. It would’ve been a real adventure, as she’d call it, even if we’d almost died.

“Your bunny is really cute,” Zen noted, reaching out to pet Pickles.

“Hff!” she hissed, flashing her spikes and flattening her big ears.

“Oops,” I quickly said, pulling the bunny out of Zen’s reach. “Sorry, she’s a bit moody.”

I put Pickles back in my pocket, hoping she’d stay put and behave. I didn’t want another bunny chase, not here. Despite all her black fluff, she was really hard to spot in the white snow.

“That’s alright,” the young girl said, sounding a little sad. “I’m better with plants than animals. That’s why I help take care of the sick.”

“Are there many?” I asked, back on earth with my thoughts. This particular cabin was removed from the village and everything seemed a bit more worn than it should be. Dark patches of rotting wood on the floors, rusted hinges, gaps between the walls. There was a poverty here that I wouldn’t have been able to understand without my vision.

The young girl pushed one of the doors open, the shrieking loud compared to the silence of nature. “A few.”

“What’s a few?” I asked, but my question was quickly answered by the sight of the many beds.

A strange silence hung in the cabin, one that was only interrupted by dry coughing or laboured breathing. Rows of beds followed the wall, all occupied. In fact, there were so many sick, some had taken to the floor with just a sleeping bag.

Even without my vision, I could’ve guessed the state of the people here. The signature smell of decay and ill people hung in the cabin, in the wood, in their clothes.

Discreetly, I pulled the collar of my shirt up so I could have some sort of smell barrier. Not that it was really working, but it was something.

“Why are there so many?” I whispered.

Zen sighed defeatedly. “I don’t know… One day, our neighbour woke up with sores on their tongue. The next, half the village was sick.”

A shiver ran down my spine. That was awful. “Don’t you have medicine or something?”

She pulled a face. “No… The roads are closed and nobody has been able to reach us with supplies. That’s why I’ve been going into the mountains for herbs and plants.”

“What do you mean? How can a road be closed?”

The young girl frowned. “Because of the war. The rebels have occupied the surrounding area. Some of the injuries are from trying to fight them.”

War?

I thought Var made that up to scare me. But this wasn’t an illusion of the Keeper or from him. This was the real world with real people. But then… This village was so deep in the mountains, how could there be war here?

Zen looked at me, confusion strung between her eyebrows. “You don’t know about the war?”

“No, no, I do,” I quickly lied. “I just didn’t realise it had reached this village.”

“Unfortunately,” she let out a deep sigh as she reached into a bucket for a damp cloth. “We’re not in the middle of it, but we get our medicine from a neighbouring village. But ever since the rebels took up residence near us, we haven’t been able to communicate with them.”

Wow… These people were in serious trouble and yet, had helped me out without thinking twice. And I’d only been thinking about how quickly I could get out of here and go back to my life, without properly thanking them for saving me.

Damn it, Ylva.

I couldn’t regress to my old, obnoxious and oblivious self.

This village was in dire need of medicine and I owed them a debt. No matter if it was forbidden to socialise with humans, the rules could get stuffed. I was doing this, one way or another.

I turned to Zen, determination flowing through my veins. “What can I do to help?”