Chapter 74: Ghost at Home
Kestrel had expected to sleep deeply tonight, given the tiring events of the party and the late time she returned home.
Yet, sleep only brought her into an unusual dream. She knew she was dreaming but was stuck in it, unable to wake up.
In her dream, Kestrel was not a human, but a large creature hiding in the shadows, with countless tendrils.
She found herself living in a dark, old castle. Her big, lively tendrils slowly twisted and wriggled, filling the castle’s insides.
Wrapped in her many tendrils, Kestrel felt safe and satisfied. It was as if she was the only one left in the world, with no other people to worry about, and no other issues calling for her attention. She was free to rest and sleep in this dark world all by herself.
However, she felt a bit lonely. It felt like she had slept here forever, whether for a thousand or ten thousand years, she couldn’t tell. Time seemed stopped, locking her, this huge creature, permanently in this dark prison.
At some unknown moment, moonlight came in through the broken roof, showing a prince lying flat on a large altar, a rose in hand.
The moonlight lit up the figure on the altar. He wore a neat pair of pants and a white shirt, with a gloved hand hanging off the edge of the altar.
Kestrel realized then that he was no prince. It was Ren, someone she knew. Her heart filled with happiness, and her tendrils started to squirm eagerly, climbing up the stairs covered in a bright red carpet, reaching for the high altar.
The offering lay powerless on the grand altar, seemingly unable to fight back. One sharp tendril was the first to reach, worming its way into the black glove and slowly taking it off.
A sweet smell started to fill the air, like a candy opened for a ceremony, giving off a pleasant aroma.
Kestrel started to feel hungry. She had always loved sweet things.
The slimy skin and fresh meat of her tendrils seemed to cheer. They rushed onto the altar.
The chest of the man in the white shirt under the moonlight began to rise and fall quickly. A quiet voice echoed in the large hall, "Hold me."
So the tendrils, climbing out from the moist depths, happily climbed the altar and wrapped tightly around the offering bathed in moonlight.
A pair of human male arms reached out from between the many tendrils and slowly pulled back under the moonlight, returning the hug of those weird, sticky tendrils.
Kestrel suddenly woke up, finding herself in the attic of her home.
The sky outside the window was starting to brighten, the morning air was cold, and the world was quiet except for the sound of her fast heartbeat.
"It was just a dream, a silly and odd dream. Why am I having such dreams, why am I always dreaming about that alpha?"
During the day, Kestrel’s emotions were indifferent, hard to shake with strong feelings. But her nights were a clear contrast—her dreams were always powerful and burning, full of fire, ice, death, separation, anger, and sadness...
Now, it seemed that her dreams had added a new scene, a new feeling.
Kestrel sat up in bed, thinking. She felt that these dreams, these longings, were perhaps a natural result of reaching adulthood, a time when the body grows and such feelings come to light. It was possible, she thought, that her recurring dreams were just a sign of growing up.
Kestrel wiped her face and got out of bed. It was cold, and a layer of frost covered the window glass. Looking through the frost, she saw an old man outside the manor, struggling to push a cart up a hill, delivering milk.
Inside the room, various toys and dolls sat quietly on a shelf, watching Kestrel. An old wind chime, decorated with glass beads, swayed gently by the window.
From the cabinet against the wall, Kestrel picked up a plush orca toy with a small tear. She held it and played with it for a while.
The shelf, filled with toys both old and new, revealed a wooden box when the killer whale was removed. This box was what Kestrel had purposely brought back from the sunken ship in Polluted Zone Five.
It used to be filled with valuable ancient energy stones, a private treasure sought after by the high-ranking nobles of the Tower.
Now, the precious energy stones were gone. The old wooden box was just an ignored decoration among the old toys, blending in without attracting any attention.
Kestrel played with the killer whale for quite some time before she looked up and reached for the wooden box. Her fair fingers touched the box’s surface, feeling the old wood grain and the hollows left where the gems had been taken out.
Outside the window, the milk delivery man reached the manor’s front gate with his cart. In the yard below, a girl dressed as a maid ran across the overgrown yard to receive the milk. She got the milk through the door slot, paid, then hurried back, her steps light and her mood happy.
After watching for a while, Kestrel lifted her hand to play with the wind chime hanging by the window. The wind chime had been there for a long time, its strings of different-sized glass beads, looking like gems, were covered in a layer of dirt, losing their original shine.
It seemed entirely like an old toy belonging to a child - dull and unnoticed.
Kestrel’s fingers brushed over the glass beads until she found a square, blue one and took it off. The sea-blue square stone was covered in a thick layer of dirt, dull and dim in Kestrel’s fingers, seeming indistinguishable from the other glass beads. But upon a closer look, one would notice its perfect, sharp cut and captivating symmetrical pattern. It was a real gemstone.
The blues within the gem seemed to float, containing a mysterious ocean world. It was as if it could pull one’s soul into it.
Kestrel put the blue square gem into a hole on the box. The square blue gem fitted perfectly into it.
The moment the sea-blue gem was placed in, a ghostly light covered the old wooden box taken from the shipwreck.
A faint, unheard whisper began to sound from all directions. The whispering voice seemed to tell an ancient story.
On the wooden box, the blue gem began to shine, casting a 3D holographic image of a sunken ship just above it. The ship, half-buried in sea sand, spun gently as a tiny illusion above the gem. It was none other than the Mary, the shipwreck from Polluted Zone Five.
Blue light spilled over the edges of the gem, seeping into the box’s grooves, tracing a path that looked like a map, until it reached another hole - a cavity missing its gem. As the blue light filled this void, it started to gleam.
A small tree sprouted above the cavity, with a golden trunk and golden leaves. It looked real despite its tiny phantom form, and the faint sound of metal leaves rustling in the wind could be heard.
The mysterious whispers, which had been just murmurs for a while, started to fade away slowly, and along with them, the illusions of the sunken ship and the tree also disappeared.
The wooden box in Kestrel’s hand was still the same old box, with the glow of the sole blue gem on it dimming, turning back into a greasy glass bead.
"The Erdtree."
Kestrel whispered this term, touching the box for a while before putting it back among her toys. Then, she placed the torn orca plushie on top of the box, hiding it from sight.
"Take care of it for me," Kestrel said, patting the plump head of the orca before getting up to wash and prepare for breakfast downstairs.
In the dining room, Kestrel sat at the table, yawning while waiting for her meal with a spoon in her hand. The kitchen was brightly lit, the clattering sound of utensils echoing.
"Miss, did anything happen at the party last night? You didn’t come home until this morning," a young girl’s voice echoed from the kitchen.
"Eh, nothing big. It’s not related to us," Kestrel replied casually, fiddling with her spoon as she thought about something.
"Locky," she finally decided, "I have a few friends who’ll be visiting us. Get ready for it."
There was a clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen.
"Vis...visiting?" a girl with a bob haircut and dressed in a maid’s outfit nervously peeked her head out from the kitchen. Her hair was smooth and stopped at her collarbone, her features pretty and eyes expressive. She wore a neat long, dark dress, with a white apron around it. The fluffy hem of the skirt was so long that it completely hid her feet.
"Yes, guests. You’ll help me welcome them," Kestrel said.
Locky’s face showed confusion as she walked sideways out of the kitchen before correcting herself to walk straight. Her fluffy skirt hid her legs entirely, not even a hint of her feet were visible.
"I...I have to see them too?" she intertwined her pale fingers nervously in front of her, "Miss, but I..."
"Don’t worry," Kestrel said, "you can’t always hide in the house, you need to get used to meeting people, like me."
"But what if they find out?"
"I think they’ll like you," Kestrel reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from Locky’s face, "If they don’t like my house, I’ll just kick them out."
Locky lowered her head, "In that case, I’d just be a burden to you. You already have very few friends."
"Don’t overthink it," Kestrel took back her rare kindness, returning to her usual emotionless face, and tapped on her bowl, "I’m hungry. Bring me food, fast."
Breakfast was lavish - warm milk and toasted bread, a half-fried egg with a runny yolk, and a bowl of salad with sesame sauce.
Kestrel really enjoyed it.
"Ah, what should I do? It’s my first time hosting guests. What should I prepare? Right, right, first, I need to do the cleaning."
Locky was in a panic, moving around wildly, falling back into her odd sideways shuffle.
With cleaning tools in hand, Locky moved far faster than most people, sweeping back and forth across the large living room, even easily climbing up the walls.
In her quick movements, her dress fluttered, revealing several insect-like legs beneath her white underskirt. They were a sturdy set of legs, covered in shell, totally unlike a human’s.
