Until the Night has Passed

Chapter 6

"Are you okay? Did you get bit?" Quinvan examined for wounds and searched every side of her face.

"No I'm...." The sight of the malformed version of a spider caught Nethe's attention, repulsed in what kind of creature dwelled and in awe of how the continuation of the dream happened. The rush of mixed feelings of horror and elation left her in a daze, but it was not quite a terrible feeling anymore "...fine."

"Don't worry about it." Quinvan sensed her discomfort. "Common pests like them are easy to kill except..."

Common? Except? She didn't even wanted to know.

Future sentences were broken, but not powerful enough to break most of her high spirits. Though her expression almost held no emotions, a drop of fear managed to slip  through a crack and slid down the very bones of Nethe, prevented the plans of exploration of the lodgings. A drop was not enough to shatter the ridiculous belief about her wandering soul, meandering about in a fantastical world with nonexistent occurance.

"For now don't think too much about it." Quinvan lifted a hand. "Let's just focus on getting home. We'll do the work from here."

Nethe silently and reflexively looked around each side of the room as she sat back at the far end of the bed near the heavy sleeper's legs.

"They are common but it's not like they'll appear each second. It depends on where you live as well."

"Sorry it's my first time seeing them." Nethe is also bad at playing a consistent role while her emotions run amok, overly thrilled for the miracle that she's back and avoided reality. She bit her lip out of realization.

"Right." He didn't question her choice of words much, knowing her state. It only served as another confirmation that she's in dire need for an appointment and severe memory loss. "They're not poisonous but just try not to get bit."

They both set their eyes upon the now crumpled, deflated face of a human still attached to the eight-legged creature scrunched on the ground. It was basically its whole body.

Quinvan threw it out the window.

'Imagine touching that' - Nethe thought.

In addition, Nethe refused to ask Quinvan to accompany her out of shyness. Albeit she took comfort around her companions at a certain degree, making a request seemed hasty. So she remained until the break of dawn before Quinvan tried waking up Clorette- a challenging feat. Although Nethe can't help but notice the scrunched face she had along the way to the second floor. She was convinced at any given moment a sudden collapse face flat on the ground would occur, but Clorette impressively did not meet her expectations. It lasted only after the dinner was served.

Now with three bags, Quinvan carried then with a straight face, while Clorette led the way.

Damaged objects to damaged buildings and loitered drecks were still apparent as they strode along the cracked pavement with littler potholes. The destination was not a mere ease of access as they have to travel upward towards the second part of the city where the bridge stood and where a radical shift of locus was.

The dichotomy between the lower and upper was clearly evident: The paucity of damages and the sufficiency of supplies,  the vibrancy of the area and the hefty skyscrapers. Just by the edge was the destination- a three story hexagonal, honey-colored cemented sanatorium that stretched ahead, creating another entrance for the convenience of other citizens. Small wooden sliding windows placed for each rooms and confined spaces for a terrace on each side.

"Good thing we woke up really early," Clorette said. "His office is at the middle. I heard he's the most skilled with all the hard stuff."

Convinced this was all a dream, the gripping apprehension towards unprecedented occurence lessened, opening the locks of a shell of comfort that Nethe unremittingly dwells.