I didn’t want to go to sleep until Cheerful returned. Aleister had no such compunctions. I poked the snoozing cat gently.

“Hey? Cheerful is still gone? It’s been so long, do you think he’s okay?” I asked.

“I’m sure he’s perfectly fine. Now, don’t prod any more. I must sleep. You ought to as well.” With that, he curled up, his head hidden by the plume of his tail.

I walked about the old house, trying to find something to do. I wanted to occupy myself so that I didn’t worry so much about the crow. But it was already dark outside, and I couldn’t clean by the weak halflight of the lamps.

Should I have even sent Cheerful out? What if something happened? I wasn’t even sure what the bird was doing.

I walked room to room, and couldn’t find anything to do. In the solarium, I thought I might listen to a record on the gramophone, but I couldn't see records anywhere. I looked through the sundry wares in the storeroom. I found a funny looking copper instrument, a bit like a pot with a pinched top, and a tube coming out, but I couldn't even begin to imagine how to use it, and didn't want to break it, so I left it alone. Back to the kitchen, empty handed, I clutched at my sleeves and thought about the flappy, excitable bird being grabbed by his fragile wing, or being mauled by a wildcat, or run over by a truck.

I sat down at the table, and looked out the window. I could see nothing but darkness, and I felt a deep tiredness in my bones.

Suddenly, a message appeared.

Debuff: Tired

EXP gains are decreased.

Sleep is essential. Missing sleep is a hazard to mind and body.

(Warning: Tiredness may cause Visions! )

Interesting. So being tired would affect my EXP accumulation. And cause visions, apparently, although I wasn’t sure what that might be.

I didn’t mind the debuff. I wasn’t doing anything to gain EXP anyway, so it didn’t bother me if the gain was reduced. I sat at the table and stared into the fire.

Sometime later in the night, I was still up waiting for Cheeful’s return. Time seemed to drag on. I felt like I had been up for hours. Surely the sunrise was not so far now?

I sat by the fire, and poked gently at the logs, sending up sparks with each motion. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw shadows start to shift and move. But I knew that was just an effect of still being up. I paid no attention to it.

I stood up, trying to get my circulation going. I cut up an apple, which I thought Cheerful would like to peck at, once he found his way home. But it was becoming harder and harder to keep my eyes open and wait for the crow.

As I put out the apple on the table, the shadows congealed, and I thought I saw someone standing next to the fireplace. My blood ran cold, and I felt pinpricks of sweat on my back. I stood frozen, and watched as a shadow-like being approached my fire. The shadow seemed to grasp above, to where the pots were hanging, intermingled with dried bouquets of herbs. The shadow pricked a leaf from one of the herb bundles, and threw it in the fire.

I rapidly blinked my eyes. Nothing there. I looked around the little kitchen. No moving shadows, no shadow people. I must have been really tired, I thought.

The fear still pumped through my blood, with savage intensity. Even if I wanted to go to sleep, I wouldn’t want to now. I told myself that what I had seen was just a trick of the firelight, but my hammering heart didn’t believe me one bit.

I slid away from the table, and down onto the quilts, where Aleister was peacefully curled up and asleep. I shifted the kitty in my lap, happy for the warmth. I shivered, and looked at the fire, mesmerized. When would that stupid bird fly home?

I sat there petting Aleister, and it didn’t take long for the shadows to begin shifting again. I looked around, my eyes wide with fear, and there were now twelve shadows, gathered around me in a circle. I tried blinking my eyes, but it didn’t clear my vision. I sat there, paralyzed.

“Aleister…” I whispered softly, afraid to make too much noise.

One of the shadows came closer.

Its shape became more and more clear, with each step. The shadow stood a few feet away from me, and now I could see clearly that it wasn’t a shadow at all.

It was the most beautiful creature I’ve ever beheld. The woman stood, smiling, stark naked, with wild black curls hung loose about her pale shoulders. There were no words for how seductive her lips were, how tempting her pale neck, and how luminous her dark eyes looked in the firelight. Wound around her, like an obscene dress, was a giant, black serpent, its scales shimmering in the firelight.

The girth of that serpent was bigger than the waist of the woman, but she seems to have no trouble holding it up. It slithered over the woman’s shoulders easily, the coils gyrating over her body. The monsterous snake’s head was level with the woman’s and I saw its forked tongue dart out of the giant maw.

Hello, man/woman/child/plaything.

I didn’t hear the words as much as I felt them. I couldn’t do anything, just stare transfixed at the woman and the snake.

The woman held out her delicate hands, palms together. She opened them.

Inside, I saw a pomegranate, split open, the red juice leaking onto her white skin. She closed her hands, then opened them again.

The pomegranate was gone, but this time I saw a red rose. She pinched off one of the thorns, and threw the rose away. She held up the thorn for me for several seconds. The sharp point of the thorn dug into the delicate flesh of her fingertip, and I saw the swell of a blood drop.

She closed her palms again and opened them. A golden ring this time, and it was gone again, as she closed her hands.

She opened them, and I saw red cloth spill out. It was long, and the draping looked like a skirt. I looked carefully. It looked like the woman was holding a red dress. Again she closed her palms, and the dress disappeared.

Again she opened them, and I saw a pitcher made of beaten bronze. She poured the contents onto the floor, and at first it looked like blood, but then I caught the scent of red wine. My mouth watered.

The pitcher was gone, and she held out her hands to me one more time, a sprig of some kind of plant held lightly between two fingers. It had dark berries, almost black, and little violet flowers, the color of falling twilight. I couldn’t identify it, but I made an effort to remember it.

The woman’s hands fell by her side, and the serpent began to move. It slithered off the woman’s shoulders, and towards me. As it reared its head close to my face, it winked, and I recognized that wink. The snake’s tongue darted out, and I heard it hiss.

sssZinnnniaaaasss

Zinia? I thought. Who was Zinia?

The serpent returned to the woman’s shoulders, and the woman began stepping back, growing more shadowy with each step. I held out my hand, wishing the lovely lady would stay a minute longer. I was absolutely hypnotized by her beauty, and I wished I could do nothing but look upon her for hours, days, maybe years.

She was gone to the periphery of the circle, her footsteps light and sounding vaguely like a slither of smooth scales on wood.

Then, the shadow next to her moved.

Where the woman’s movements were whispers and hints, this shadow moved like shattered glass was being ground into smaller and smaller shards.

As it dragged itself closer, it felt like every step the shadow took was agonizing, twitching and writhing with pain. He was coming closer to me now, and-

When I saw him, I was barely able to muffle my scream.

It was a man in plate armor, with a long white beard. There was an arrow stuck in his eye, and the gory wound oozed liquid onto the wooden floor. There were arrows in the man’s neck, in the shoulder gaps of his platemail, even stuck through the metal of his chest plate. All of them slowly weeped blood. Something moved behind him, and I saw the man’s horse, which was far worse off, arrows covering every part of the beast's hide, both eyes pierced with two feathered shafts. I didn’t think I’d ever seen anything so gruesome in my life.

The terror welled up inside me, and I couldn’t look at the pierced man any longer.

I shut my eyes tight, hugging Aleister to my chest, and shook my head as forcefully as I could. Goawaygoawaygoaway! I held my head down for long seconds, afraid to peek up and find that corpse-like, bleeding man standing over me.

When I was finally able to open my eyes, no one was there.

I looked around the kitchen, carefully searching every shadow for any hint of movement. All was still, as far as I could tell, although it was difficult to gauge by the firelight, which made the shadows dance and twist.

Were these the Visions that my tiredness debuff had warned me about?

Scared stiff, I hid under the quilts like a child, with Aleister miraculously still sleeping, hugged to my chest. A part of me felt strangely accomplished. Surely, these Visions meant something. The woman-snake had shown me a series of images that seemed very important. Maybe, the old knight was going to do the same? But, he was too terrifying! Unprepared for that kind of image, I couldn’t stand to look at him, and his wounds.

I didn’t think I could fall asleep, but I must have been more tired than I thought, because I drifted off, head stuck under the quilts.