'Mom. Don't cry. I don't feel anything anymore.'  Aila wanted to comfort her parents, but she couldn't speak.  She didn't even feel attached to her body at this moment.

Her father held her mother's hand, but even though he tried to be her strength, he was losing the only reason he worked so hard over the last thirteen years. His only daughter started to get sick when she turned five, so he began to work harder and harder, knowing that he would need a lot of money to try and get his daughter cured of her disease.

Aila desperately wanted to say something to comfort her mother, but her lungs were full of fluid. Her mother continued to cry, and her father could only close his eyes to keep his emotions under control.  Aila could no longer control her eyes, nor use them to see, but the fog within her vision allowed her to 'see' everything around her, without even turning her head.

'Dad. Don't let her see me die.'

* * *

Her parents were in another room, looking over the possibility of taking Aila home to die peacefully. It was a decision they made far too late, as they had clung to the hope that she might recover.

A soft gentle fog began to spread over Aila's mind as her mouth tried to get a breath into her lungs.  The gentle gray fog flowed out of her mouth, filled her entire room, and soon obscured Aila from the surroundings.

When the fog cleared a minute later, the life support machines she had been reliant upon began to sound an alarm, and the hospital staff rushed into her room. A frenzied series of steps later, and both her parents pushed their way into the room only to find her bed empty.

Both parents could see the empty bed, how the face mask was on her pillow, and her IV laid on her mattress. There was no blood, no signs of a struggle, or an attempt to remove her body.

They had only been in the room next to this intensive care unit to plan her return to home. Her cancer was so pervasive, they didn't believe she would live long, and wanted her to spend her last days in her home.

Her mother's anguish was palpable, while her father lost his mind in his rage.

"WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?"

* * *

"Cough." After a small breath, Aila coughed a little. She turned her head and let the foul tasting fluid drain out the side of her mouth.

"Haa aaaa. Cough ugh." Again, she took a breath, but this time it was a deeper breath, and more of that foul fluid was coughed up.

Aila slowly turned over onto her side, which was a major feat of strength as she had been hospitalized for years, and bedridden for the last year.

"Cough cough." Aila blinked and spit out another blob of foul fluid that felt thicker, and more awful than before. She took another breath, and though her chest felt heavy, her breathing was not as labored as before.

Her mind was still fogged and confused, as she didn't understand where she currently was. Her eyes roved all around, and she could see old stone walls that rose upwards in front of her eyes.

Each slow breath she took, she coughed up more fluid, and could breathe more easily each time. It wasn't until she could take a full clear breath that Aila's confusion had faded enough for her to look around carefully.

"Am I dreaming?" She whispered. "Why am I in a ruin?" She breathed in and frowned. Once more, she began to cough and spit out a mouthful of black foul fluid.

"Black. Did I get pulled into another world?" Aila had been a fan of cultivation novels back before she could no longer see the print. It was a common theme for a person to be poisoned, or damaged, and the toxic substances in their body be expelled through their skin, or out through their bowels.

"My lungs were full of fluid. I was full of cancer as it spread from a brain tumor they couldn't operate on. I was blind at the end. I was too weak to move, and had a respirator all the time." She moved her hands in front of her eyes. "I'm not as pale now. I can breathe too. I can move without becoming extremely weakened."

Aila listed all the things her mind knew, but right now, she could not quite understand the truth of what her senses told her.

Aila was inside a ruin that didn't look American in any way. The architecture reminded her of something built in medieval Europe, and something she remembered from some pictures in magazines. Broken down stone walls, thick blocks, weather worn, vines embedded in the mortar which broke the stones out of their positions.

The stone was bleached white in the sun, but that was the result of lime mortar degrading under the onslaught of the elements. This was a stone she had seen in the fields near her home, before she was too sick to leave the house.

"Armor stone. Or is it blue stone? People don't build with stone anymore. There aren't any buildings around home that have this kind of masonry work either. Where am I really?"

* * *

Aila wanted to cry, but she had shed so many tears over the years that her eyes were dry. She had been close to death for a long time, so being in danger didn't bother her. Also, being in an unfamiliar place, but now stronger than before, did not bother her.

What bothered her was the fact she couldn't see her parents anymore. They had spent large amounts of money to try and save her life.

"Mom. Dad. I'm alive." She looked towards the sky, and as her eyes turned gray, she spoke to the heavens above. "I'm alive and stronger now. I'm not dying. Please don't be sad."

Aila sat on the stone as the warmth seeped into her bones. The sun had warmed the stone enough to warm her up, which also surprised her a bit.

"I'm not cold." She said softly. "I can feel my legs too." She reached down and massaged her thighs, and calves a bit. No pins and needles sensation from her nerves. She could feel her fingers run over her skin, and her muscles responded.

"Can I walk now?" She asked carefully. With careful movements, she slowly pushed herself up onto her knees. It felt awkward, and unfamiliar. It had been years since she had been able to move like this.

"One foot. Push up. Second foot under me." She was shocked, but she couldn't show her emotions yet. She was so used to being calm, staying that way to prevent her parents from worrying, that letting herself become happy or sad was against her self discipline.

However, the small telltale curl of her lips would tell her parents the thing she tried to hide.

"I can walk." She whispered.

Aila was extremely excited and happy.