"Where am I," I said softly.
My surroundings looked unearthly; I was in a forest with crooked trees. The air was shrouded in a miasma fog. This forest was dark, as if light was absorbed by it.
The ground beneath was muddy, my feet felt like they were being pulled in: sunk into the mud if I didn't move quickly.
"What is that."
There were strange screaming sounds, and whimpering cries that made my skin crawl.
I felt afraid, not of what would happen to me, but afraid of the possibility that there was no way out of this place.
I sped up my pace. I ran on the forest mud, accompanied by the screaming and whimpering cries, which sounded from who knows where.
From a distance, I saw a glimmer of light. That might be the exit, I thought positively. I ran with all my strength towards it, only to see my hope of an exit shattered instantly.
My positive thoughts about the light leading to an exit were crushed: in front of me was not an exit. The light that guided me was none other than the reflection of another room, separate from the forest area.
A room dominated by a vast white color, contrasting with the darkness of the forest, which made me hope and see it like sunlight.
But I didn't give up. I would find an exit, even to the ends of this place. I stood up again and steeled my steps.
I walked on without stopping for hours, until fatigue, exhaustion, hunger, and thirst hit me, causing me to fall, lying weak in the middle of the white room.
My head started to feel dizzy and my eyes were heavy, my vision blurry. My voice couldn't come out, as if it was suppressed. I felt desperate: is this the end, is there no one here, I thought.
Tears flowed, wetting my cheeks. Will I die here? Without anyone knowing.
Suddenly, my blurry eyes caught something, the silhouette of a figure familiar to me. That's my teacher, I thought.
With my last strength, I tried to rise and step to reach her. I dragged my feet, my steps heavy and slow, but surely getting closer.
The distance to my teacher was only a few meters left, and my strength ran out. I couldn't step further and fell, but still managed to muster the rest of my voice to call her, "Teacher."
She turned and looked at me, but it wasn't a pleasant feeling I felt afterward. Instead, it was a very deep pain in my chest.
"Who are you?" she said.
Words so short, concise, and painful, that sounded so real, without lies or jokes.
I tried to say, "It's me, Teacher," but my voice wouldn't come out. My hand tried to reach for her, but she parried it with a sweep of her leg.
"You're in my line of sight," she said.
She lifted one leg high. With the words that came from her mouth, "Get lost," that foot shot towards my face, but a hand stopped it before it could touch me.
"Are you alright," said another voice, one I knew very well. A voice so gentle and missed.
"Teacher," I said with a hoarse voice, tears streaming down my cheeks.
"It's alright now, I'm here now," she said. She hugged me, stroking my hair gently.
"Wait here, okay," my teacher asked me to wait. She stood up and looked at the fake version of herself that had previously tried to stomp on me.
I felt an extraordinary aura of anger from my teacher. The figure who was so calm and wise in my mind, was now showing another side of herself.
"So, this is the figure who dared to make my beloved student cry."
The air around her turbulent, as if boiling, burned by the heat of fire. Then a shockwave, centered from beneath her feet, spread throughout the room: the white room cracked, from the floor, walls, to the ceiling.
The white room shattered into pieces, replaced with the sight of a Colosseum. I, who was previously behind her, was safe inside a shield bubble that my teacher must have made.
Now, my position was sitting in a VIP seat, facing directly into the center of the Colosseum arena where my teacher stood, along with the impostor who mimicked her.
I wasn't alone. Around me, there were many people cheering like spectators watching a gladiator fight.
In the middle of the arena, my teacher stood, facing the impostor who resembled her, who was currently looking around in confusion.
From this distance, I couldn't hear or feel what was happening there. I could only see and hear the effects.
The impostor calmed herself. It seemed she had regained her composure and stared back at my teacher.
They spoke. Whatever they were both talking about, I couldn't hear it. Then the impostor released an extraordinary magical aura around her body; purplish-black.
Not to be outdone, my teacher released hers; white, enveloped in gold.
The effect of the auras was so strong it caused the ground they stood on to crack, splitting into small branches. Strangely, even though it was so strong the ground was destroyed, the Colosseum building was not affected. Even the spectators felt no fear of being hit by the effects: as if this place was already protected by a very strong shield.
Here it is. They lunged at each other with direct blows that caused a tremendous shockwave, making clothes, flags, and even some spectators' wigs fly into the air.
I was speechless, about what I was and was about to witness. This was probably the first time I had seen my teacher fight directly with her physical strength and magic.
"Beat her... Teacher!!!" I shouted. I got caught up in the atmosphere and reflexively cheered.
They exchanged blows at a speed that was hard to follow with the eye. The effect sent shockwaves to the audience seats. The arena floor was shattered to pieces, even lifting up and overturning.
Between the blows, I saw lights appearing; purple and yellow that sometimes touched and vanished instantly. That must be magic, I thought.
The clash intensified, the impact of the effects grew larger, and then the impostor was thrown to the side of the arena, landing in a defensive stance.
She's very skilled, to even be able to match my teacher, I thought.
The impostor lunged at my teacher again with feints of her feet and hands, as well as magic. Although slow, it succeeded in knocking my teacher into the air.
Now she was defending in the air, in a floating position, while the impostor was seen chanting a spell.
The arena ground instantly crumbled into blackness, looking like a black hole or a circular black gate.
"Woah... what is she doing," I shouted, after seeing her chant a spell, turning the arena ground into a black gate.
I looked at my teacher who was floating in the air. She chanted something and the sky turned dark, followed by the appearance of a circular golden gate in the sky, with runic carvings on its edges.
Both gates opened, screeching so loudly that I and the spectators had to cover our ears.
From behind the black gate, I saw giant, sharp-tipped chains begin to crawl out from the darkness within the gate, while from the golden gate emerged a colossal winged female figure holding a spear.
"Oh my god... what is this?" I said. "Is this what it feels like to watch both my teachers show their power? Well... even if one is a fake, hahaha..."
I shouted again, cheering for my teacher along with the spectators.
The sharp chains shot upwards, and the colossal winged figure dived, her spear aimed directly at the sharp tip of the largest chain.
Their clash produced a shockwave, destroying the arena; debris from the arena flew everywhere, the spectators were thrown along with the Colosseum debris.
A large chunk of the Colosseum headed towards me, but it was blocked by one of the wings of the colossal winged figure.
The sharp chains creaked, and shattered into pieces, unable to withstand the pressure of the colossal winged figure's spear.
The spear did not stop, but continued to dive, aimed directly at the impostor.
I, who was watching amidst the Colosseum debris, was lifted by something: my teacher was pulling me with her magic, closer to her.
Now I was floating. Below, I saw the spear dive and hit the impostor squarely, annihilating her along with the ground and whatever was below, leaving a white void just like before.
My teacher snapped her fingers. Instantly, the white room changed into flower gardens at a Mansion, complete with servants who were serving tea and cakes in front of me.
We sat there, served with various cakes and tea. I also saw there was a bookshelf filled with neatly arranged books.
My teacher then asked, "How was it? Fun?"
I was at a loss for the right word to describe it, but one thing was certain. "That was amazing," I said.
"Glad you enjoyed it. Eat and drink," she said. "And over there are books. You can read to your heart's content," she offered a bookshelf.
"Of course," I said, tasting a piece of cake in my hand.
I tasted various cakes and teas. After filling my stomach as suggested, I tried reading some of the books on the shelf.
"Wow... this is great." I saw various book titles, from physics, science, to various histories and novels. But there was one book that made me curious.
I grabbed it stealthily. I thought it would be very embarrassing if someone knew I was reading a book titled "How to Enlarge Breasts."
Secretly, I read the book. Starting from the table of contents, to knowledge about why and what causes small breasts, followed by methods and treatments to enlarge them.
"This is interesting..." I said softly, thinking that I could finally compete in size with my teacher.
"Yes... that is interesting," a voice from behind.
I flinched hearing it. It was my teacher, who had apparently been watching from behind all along.
"N-no... this isn't what you think," I made an excuse.
She laughed softly and left. Heh... she's not mocking or teasing? I thought, confused.
Then she reached for her pocket and lit a cigarette. With her back to me, she spoke.
"It's time..."
I jolted; waking from my sleep with a pain in my forehead. It was just a dream, I thought.
In front of me was the beautiful woman, kneeling and holding her reddened nose.
"What's wrong, Teacher? What's with your nose?"
Her eyes were watery, probably from the pain of her nose hitting something.
Her hand moved to my face and pulled my nose.
"This is your fault," she said, pulling my nose.
Eh... my fault? I was confused, having just woken up and being accused of being the perpetrator.
She then explained that she was about to wake me up because we had arrived at an inn, but when she was about to wake me, I suddenly jolted, and my forehead slammed into her face, right on the nose.
"Hehehe... sorry."
She didn't make a big deal of it. Instead, she asked me to get ready because "we are going to book rooms at the inn," she said.
We packed our things and entered the inn. My teacher booked rooms and dinner. Even though it was late, because she was the one ordering, the innkeeper agreed and complied.
"Of course, Madam. If it's for you, it would be taboo for us to refuse service," said the innkeeper.
My teacher and I sat in the inn's dining hall. The room, which was previously quiet, was now bustling with people eating; because my teacher ordered at an inconvenient time, it made people who saw think the kitchen was still serving, and they ordered food.
Various foods were served on our table, from meat, bread, to vegetables. The drinks were also varied, from plain water, juice, to alcohol.
Oh, right. We weren't just the two of us. Mr. Coachman was at the same table with us, although he had refused at first, feeling it was improper. But my teacher forced him.
After dinner, we went to our respective rooms. But as I was about to enter my room, my teacher pulled me into hers.
"So... what kind of dream did Lullaby give you?"
She asked about my dream, as if she knew I had dreamed something. Not only that, she also mentioned a name, "Lullaby."
I must have been sleep-talking in the carriage earlier. This is embarrassing, thinking about what I might have said while sleep-talking.
I told her about the dream I had, although it was blurry and unclear, especially at the beginning. But there were some parts I still remembered.
Hearing my story, my teacher narrowed her eyes and smiled knowingly.
"Ho—oh... you want to compete with this size?"
She started to show off her large breasts, after hearing the story about my dream of reading a breast enlargement guide. She lifted her chest with both hands and jiggled them.
"Flack!!!, Flack!!!"
I slapped them both with both hands. It was quite hard, making her pull back and rub her breasts.
"That hurt... don't you feel sorry for them?"
"Are you two okay?" she rubbed them both gently. It made me a little jealous, but for now, there was something more important.
"Teacher...!!!"
I glared at her.
"Alright, alright..."
"What you experienced in the dream was an encounter with Lullaby," she said, after I glared at her to get serious.
"Lullaby?"
"Yes... Lullaby."
She asked me to open the book to page 007. I opened it.
APPELLATION: Lullaby
TITLE / EPITHET: The Sleep-Inducing Melody, The Nightmare Plucker, The Echo of Star Silence
CLASSIFICATION:
* Primer: Folkloric
* Status: Active
* Scale: Local (But its manifestation can occur anywhere)
* Level: Bound
ORIGIN: Lullaby was born from the first collective desire for peaceful rest. When the first living beings felt weary of the world and yearned for fearless sleep, that pure desire resonated and created an echo. That echo became a melody, and that melody slowly became conscious. It is not a god or spirit, but the universe's lullaby to itself.
FORM / ESSENCE: Its essence is a Living Conceptual Melody. It has no physical body or form. It is a song that exists independently, a sonic anomaly woven from peace, innocence, and the silence of the night.
APPEARANCE & PERCEPTION: You will never see Lullaby. You will experience it. Its presence feels like a sudden cool breeze on a sultry night. A very soft and soothing melody is heard, its notes impossible to remember after waking. It carries the scent of night-blooming flowers or the smell of rain on dry earth. It is the comfortable sensation of pulling up a blanket, an inexplicable feeling of security.
DOMAIN & INFLUENCE: Its domain is the realm of dreams, peace, and emotional healing. Its influence is purely positive and restorative.
* Dream Purification: It gently "plucks" nightmares, fears, and anxieties from the minds of those sleeping. It does not destroy them, but rather "transforms" them into minor notes within its melody, neutralizing them into a poetic sadness.
* Granting Rest: It provides deep and restorative sleep to those suffering from insomnia, grief, or trauma. In the morning, they will awaken feeling light and peaceful, as if a heavy burden has been lifted from their shoulders, though they will not remember why.
VULNERABILITIES / COUNTERMEASURES: As an embodiment of peace, it is inherently weak against its opposite.
* Dissonance of Chaos: Loud, harsh, and chaotic sounds (such as industrial machinery, angry shouts, or aggressive music) are painful to it and will force it away.
* Cynical Rejection: It is powerless before minds that consciously reject peace and innocence. Someone who actively enjoys chaos or hatred will be "unheard" by it; its melody will never be able to reach them.
* Cannot Force: It can only offer peace. It cannot force someone to accept it. Someone who chooses to remain awake in their anxieties cannot be helped by it.
ECHOES IN HISTORY & MYTH: In every culture, there are stories of "Night Wind Spirits" or "Dream Singers" who come to crying children or restless soldiers on the battlefield. They are never seen, but after their "visit," the child will sleep soundly, and the soldier will find momentary peace amidst the horrors of war.
WHISPERS / FRAGMENTS OF KNOWLEDGE:
* "If you suddenly hear a song you've never heard before in the middle of the night, don't try to record it. Just enjoy the gift."
* "They say nightmares are its food, and pleasant dreams are its breath."
* "Lullaby doesn't give you pleasant dreams. It just cleanses the garden of your mind, so that pleasant dreams can grow on their own."
Scribe's Note: transcribe this entity feels like whispering. There is a profound gentleness here, a reminder that not all anomalies are cosmic horrors. Some are small, silent wonders. Lullaby is proof that within this tome full of shadows, there is also a calming beam of moonlight. It is an anomaly we do not wish to fight or understand, but only to listen to.
"Who is it, Teacher?"
"Ever heard of a fairy godmother? Or a dream fairy?"
She countered with a question about a legend or fairy tale, which, if I'm not mistaken, is a story about a fairy figure who gives good dreams to good children.
"Lullaby is a nightmare-eating fairy?"
"Well, it eating nightmares is true, as you experienced."
She pulled a cigarette from her pocket and lit it using the fire on her index finger. Then she continued and stated,
"But it is not a fairy."
"Then...?"
If not a fairy, then what? Could it be a ghost figure like The Wife, but with a different domain, or an anomaly like the Empress? I thought.
"Try reading the origin, form, and essence sections again."
I read the requested sections again, then concluded.
"It doesn't have a physical form? And Lullaby is Lullaby."
I concluded, although I still half-didn't understand the meaning. As for the form, I might understand that Lullaby indeed doesn't play in the physical zone; it's in the dream realm. But the meaning of It is not a god or spirit, but the universe's lullaby to itself, I still didn't understand.
Teacher then gave me an analogy.
"You know that I am me, and because I am myself, then I am me... so there is nothing false as long as you are referring to me."
She smoked the cigarette in her hand and blew the smoke out the chamber window.
"Unless, you misinterpret that I am her," she continued.
"Hm..." my brain spun, trying to understand her meaning.
What does she mean by 'I am myself' while 'I am her'? It's like a play on words, twisting my brain to think extra.
Then I remembered my dream, when I mistook the figure who looked like her, for her but she didn't know me. Until finally, the figure who did know me appeared. But that was just a dream; my real teacher was here, in front of me.
Okay, okay, let's think deeper on this. If 'I am myself', then there is no other 'me' but myself. If so, then she is the only 'me.'
I drew a conclusion.
"So Teacher... you mean to say that Lullaby doesn't represent anything, because she is what represents herself."
"There... that's it. Lullaby doesn't represent Lullaby. It is Lullaby simply because it is itself."
"Then... what did it do to my dream?"
She then extinguished her cigarette, the ember almost touching her slender fingers.
"Hm... maybe ate it. Be thankful to it, because if not for it..." she paused for a moment, "...you might not have been able to return to being yourself."
"Dreams are the flowers of sleep, a lullaby... something unreal and unprovable. But when you experience a dream that is very real, be careful, because it might be a sign."
She said while closing the window, then tapped my shoulder.
"Sleep with me tonight. Let the coachman use the other room."