Oddly enough, I was more resilient than I thoght. I still hadn't passed out—not counting what happened in the garden, but there was clearly an influence of something else besides panic.

  Screaming, convinced I was falling like Alice, while actually staying right where I was—it must have looked ridiculous. At the time, I wasn't thinking about it, and the absence of my own voice only intensified the panic. But…

  I remained conscious.

  The calm that had vanished just as quickly came back. Just when it seemed I was falling, my hands immediately found support in the mattress, which I couldn't see. But it was there, solid enough to ground me. And then came the realization that there was nothing to fear in this gray fog.

  I was able to exhale.

  What the hell had Isaac done?

  ‘Magical issue’. That's what he called it before the special effects began. My mind now completely accepted the idea that this was magic. Like in books and movies.

  What nonsense, I thought. But even my inner skeptic didn't believe the idea of ??a prank anymore. It made me feel uneasy. An unnatural thought.

  I raised my hand, where the strange silver thread was wound. It was still there, tightly clinging to my skin, yet completely weightless. One end was on my wrist, the rest floated languidly in the air, disappearing into the gray fog a short distance away. I stared at the thread, mesmerized, and reached out to touch the floating part. But my fingers passed right through. It felt as if someone had blown on the back of my neck, causing goosebumps.

  No, I guess I won't touch it anymore.

  But, oddly enough, the presence of the thread was more calming. Yes, somewhere there on the other end was Isaac as a connection to a still strange, but closer to a normal place. But now, for some reason, I perceived him with some caution. Maybe my senses were playing tricks on me after everything that had happened. But neither the creation of a strange thread, nor the transformation from a boy to a teenager in a matter of seconds fit into my understanding of normal.

  And there was something else, something I couldn't yet explain to myself. This feeling arose almost immediately after I found myself in this place, and it was like an unpleasant aftertaste.

  I didn't know what to do next anyway. I could tug on the thread as a signal, but it's intangible. My mind was still puzzled by the invisible bed beneath me, but that faded into the background. Still, I didn't dare move. Better to wait calmly than to rush headlong into trouble.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

  I don't know how much time passed, but soon the surroundings began to change. To my right, the fog cleared somewhat, and I could even see something through the gap. I couldn't quite make out what exactly—everything appeared as if through slightly fogged glass.

  I hesitated. It was scary to leave a place where I thought I was safe, when I didn't understand what the hell was going on. On the other hand... Something seemed to be pulling me to go over and take a look. And then the thread suddenly jerked sharply toward the gap.

  Oh, I hope I'm not walking into a boa constrictor's mouth after all...

  Carefully, I slid off the invisible mattress, immediately turning around to feel for it. It was there, but I knew that if I moved even a few steps, I wouldn't find it.

  Oh well. I moved closer to the gap in the fog.

  As soon as I got close, the foggy glass effect faded. The outlines were still a bit blurry, but you could get the picture. A room was visible through the gap, in the same gloomy tones as the bedroom where I'd woken up—if not gloomier. There was a long table piled high with books, yellowed scrolls, and sheets of paper. Not a sound was heard. A young woman sat at the table, writing something down. Her long, slightly curly dark hair was exactly like what I'd assumed was a wig on myself.

  I didn't know why, but the sight of the woman made me uneasy. A persistent sense of déjà vu, even though I knew I was seeing her for the first time. The pale, dark-haired stranger was silently poring over some notes, and before she reached for one of the books, I already knew which one she was about to take. Then, after reading a few lines, she turned to the door, worried about something - and this is what actually happened.

  The fog again obscured the gap, and after a while, it cleared elsewhere. The thread on my wrist reached out to this new gap. Then my legs carried me on their own. No fear of the place or loss of balance.

  Now there was no longer a table with books, nor that woman. Instead, I saw a garden in which I guessed the place where I had tried to look for the fountain in a panic. The woman from the previous vision was walking along the path, looking around warily. That's what it seemed at first glance. But looking more closely, I realized she was younger this time. She couldn’t have been more than twenty.

  She walked, holding the black cape I'd seen in the bedroom, and her confusion and fear were so familiar... Of course, I'd recently experienced something similar myself. My heart beat a little faster from the wave of anxiety that washed over me—for this girl and for myself. As if I knew her very well.

  The young woman stopped in the middle of the path. The next second, I realized the vision had been audible this time, because I heard a muffled, distant voice call out the name ‘Nicolette’. I already knew it was her name. But that wasn't what made me shiver at that moment.

  The name she called resonated within me as if it were me being called. It felt as if I were standing on the garden path and in the fog at the same time, looking at myself.