The Ghost of You

Chapter 5: Ira Pronnaphat Sethratanapong

As they stepped into the portal, Lingling felt the world around them dissolve, colors and shapes swirling into a kaleidoscope of memories. The sensation of time folding in on itself was disorienting, but she held on tightly to Orm, their connection grounding her amid the chaos.

Suddenly, Lingling's vision turned blurry, and the edges of her consciousness began to fade. Before she knew it, darkness enveloped her, and she blacked out.

When she awoke, disoriented and confused, the first thing she noticed was the scent of fresh grass and the distant sound of hooves. Her heart raced as she blinked against the sunlight, squinting to adjust her eyes to the brightness.

"Khun Tawan!" a young lad exclaimed, rushing toward her with a look of relief etched on his face. "Oh my god, thank goodness! We thought we might lose you!"

"Lose me?" she echoed, still trying to grasp her surroundings.

"Yes!" He nodded vigorously, worry still lingering in his eyes. "You fell off the horse and knocked your head on that stone over there." He gestured to a nearby rock, half-hidden in the grass.

Lingling's mind raced as the pieces began to fall into place. I'm in Tawan's body. I can see through her eyes, feel her emotions. It was an overwhelming rush of sensations, as if she had stepped into another person's soul. She could feel Tawan's lingering fear from the fall, mingled with the warmth of the sun and the cool breeze against her skin.

"Are you alright?" the boy asked, concern etched on his youthful features. "You hit your head pretty hard."

Tawan blinked again, trying to collect her thoughts. "I... I think I'm okay," she managed to say, though uncertainty clouded her mind. The world around her felt strangely vibrant, the colors more vivid than she remembered. What happened? How did I end up here?

"Let's get you back to the others," Tan urged, extending his hand to help her up.

As Lingling stood, she glanced around and noticed the camp was bustling with activity, soldiers packing supplies and tending to horses. The sounds of distant chatter and laughter filled the air, but beneath it lay an undercurrent of tension. "Are we... in a war or something?" she asked, trying to make sense of her surroundings.

The boy turned to her with a horrified look. "Khun Tawan, did you lose your memories after you knocked your head? We won the war! You won the war! We're about to pack and go back to see our families—all thanks to your effort!"

Lingling's heart raced.

"We... what year is it?"

"Do you need a doctor, Khun Tawan?" Tan asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Just answer me..."

"You're 24, Khun Tawan. It's 1924."

"Orm..." Lingling whispered, her mind racing.

"Oh, speaking of the Sethratanapong young lady," Tan continued, "a letter just came in today for you."

Tawan's pulse quickened. A letter? She remembered Orm's presence, the connection they had forged. Did they enter their respective past lives? The realization sent a shiver down her spine. "Where's the letter?" she asked, her voice urgent.

"It's in the tent over there." Tan pointed toward a large canvas structure on the edge of the camp. "But I think you should rest first, Khun Tawan. You've been through a lot."

"No, I need to see it," Lingling insisted, determination surging through her. She could feel the weight of Tawan's life pressing on her shoulders, the unresolved threads of her past pulling her forward. She started toward the tent, Tan trailing behind her, worry etched on his face.