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Higher Plain Chapter 27: Feelings That Can’t Be Helped, Place To Call Home!
🕑 Added 2025-05-21 18:01:31 +0000 UTCI stared at the ceiling. The bed Krelzor had offered me was small—too small, honestly. Even in my reduced form, I felt like I was teetering
I stared at the ceiling. The bed Krelzor had offered me was small—too small, honestly. Even in my reduced form, I felt like I was teetering
I stared at the ceiling.
The bed Krelzor had offered me was small—too small, honestly. Even in my reduced form, I felt like I was teetering on a pile of hay more than anything. But it wasn't the lumpy mattress or the too-thin blanket that kept me from sleeping. It was the screaming.
Not out loud. Just... in my head. Echoes.
I turned onto my side, clutching the pillow tightly against my chest. My fingers dug into the fabric as I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the images that kept playing behind them like some cursed memory reel.
Fire. Screams. Crumbling stone.
Soldiers flattened under falling debris. Innocent people running from shadows. From me.
I had crushed homes under my feet. Toppled towers with my body. That fireball... even if it was the smallest spell I could cast in that state, it might as well have been a meteor from the heavens for the damage it caused.
I buried my face into the pillow. It was soft and smelled faintly of dried herbs—lavender, maybe. Krelzor had tried to make me comfortable, even after everything. And yet, here I was. Curled up like a criminal hiding from justice.
"Maybe I should go home," I whispered into the pillow. My voice sounded small. Pathetic.
I wasn't built for this. Not really. All my life I dreamed of coming down here. Of seeing the lower plains with my own eyes. The people fascinated me—humans, especially. Fragile, quick-tempered, and endlessly determined. Even now, I remembered reading the old scrolls hidden in the royal library, the ones that told of the great war thousands of years ago. Humans had stood at the front of that fight, despite being the weakest of the races.
And now?
Now I had nearly crushed them beneath my feet.
I felt like a monster.
I rolled onto my back again, exhaling slowly. The wooden ceiling above me creaked with the night wind outside. Somewhere in the distance, a barn owl hooted. The world kept moving, even when I couldn't.
A knock interrupted my thoughts.
I blinked, sitting up slightly. My heart tensed in my chest as I stared at the door across the room.
"Uh... hey," came Krelzor's voice from the other side. His tone was soft, a little nervous. "I, uh... I have a surprise for you. If you're awake."
I let out a sigh, flopping back onto the bed. A surprise? Now? I didn't want any surprises. I didn't want to open the door and see some kind gesture that would just remind me how undeserving I was of kindness.
But I also didn't want to be rude. Especially not to him.
With another heavy breath, I threw the blanket aside and got up. My feet thudded softly on the wooden floor as I padded to the door, still wrapped in the wool blanket like a cloak. I opened it just a crack, peering out.
Krelzor stood there with that soft, awkward smile he wore when he wasn't sure if something was a good idea. He didn't say anything at first—just held out his hand.
"Come on," he said gently.
I stared at it. My hand hesitated.
But... I took it. Because no matter how much I wanted to curl back into that bed and disappear, I also wanted—needed—that small thread of kindness. Of normalcy.
He led me quietly into the dining room, the wood floor creaking under our feet. I followed, my fingers still wrapped around his, until we reached the table.
And there it was.
A strange like substance, was it food?
Round, simple, but almost glowing with charm. The frosting was a deep lavender purple, messy in a way that felt completely homemade. There were a few uneven lines piped along the edges, and it was set on a chipped ceramic plate like it was the centerpiece of some grand banquet.
"Surprise," Krelzor said, letting go of my hand.
I blinked. "Is... that food?"
He let out a short laugh. "It's cake."
"...What is cake?"
His eyebrows lifted. "You've never had cake? Seriously?"
I shook my head slowly, narrowing my eyes at the thing like it might sprout legs and run.
Krelzor beamed with something between pride and nostalgia. "Well, it's called Midnight Bloom Cake. My dad used to make it for me when I was down in the dumps. It's sweet, simple, and purple—which he claimed was the color of hope." He gave a sheepish shrug. "I think he just liked blueberries."
I couldn't stop staring at it. It smelled... amazing. Like berries and sugar and something soft and warm and good. I had no clue what hope was supposed to smell like, but this might've been close.
He motioned to the chairs. "Come on. Sit."
I did. Quietly. Hands in my lap, trying not to let on how curious I was.
Krelzor sat down beside me and carefully cut out a generous slice. He slid the plate in front of me.
I hesitated. Then slowly, I picked up the little fork he'd set out, poked a bite, and brought it to my mouth.
And—
Oh.
Oh, by the stars.
It was divine. Soft, light, sweet without being overpowering, and the frosting melted like morning dew on my tongue.
I took another bite. Then another. Faster.
"Whoa there," Krelzor laughed, leaning back, "slow down. There's more where that came from."
I swallowed my latest bite and gave him a look that probably said, "Let me enjoy this magic, peasant."
But after a few moments, I slowed. I leaned back in my chair and looked down at the slice I was carefully demolishing. The warmth of the cake was sinking into my chest in a way that had nothing to do with food.
I cleared my throat. "I don't know what to do, Krelzor."
He glanced at me. "About?"
"Everything." I sighed, pushing a bit of frosting around the plate with my fork. "I know I should go home. That's what makes sense. I don't belong here. And yet... leaving now feels like running away. Like giving up. I came here to learn, to help. And now... I'm the one who brought danger. Ruin."
He leaned forward, arms on the table. "You want to help, right?"
I nodded.
"Then that's all that matters. Look—before all this, I was just a farmer. My biggest worry was whether the rain would kill my cabbages. And yeah, you did stomp my field the day you arrived—thanks for that—but then you helped me fix it. Remember?"
I cracked a small smile. "I do recall a lot of very confused squawking animals."
"Exactly." He grinned. "Point is, no matter how bad something gets, that doesn't mean it's broken forever. People rebuild. And if they can't, they find a new way to grow."
I looked at him. He didn't try to make it sound easy. He didn't sugarcoat it. He just... believed it.
"You're not going to get any judgment from me," he added, his voice quieter now. "Whatever you decide—whether you stay, go home, or go punch another monster in the jaw—I trust you. You're doing your best."
I didn't say anything at first. I just sat there, heart fluttering in a strange, unfamiliar way.
Then he added, with a soft smile, "Remember... this is your home too, Faylina."
Something in me cracked open at that. Not painfully. Just... wide enough to let in a little light.
I didn't speak. I just nodded, staring down at the last bite of cake as warmth bloomed in my chest. Not from the dessert. From him. From this quiet, simple moment of kindness.
For the first time in a long time, I thought maybe—just maybe—I could sleep tonight.
Comments
DarkMatter1234
I agree
Ieyasu
After a bit of cake the world looks always better.
G
THATS WAS AMAZING
