More questions than answers

Lux blinks as she’s led across the threshold. A cottage, barely large enough to have space the living room she’s just been led into: bright and welcoming, the stone walls painted in warm tones. A dining table of crude but solid make; mismatched chairs; a roaring fire in the hearth; all seem fitting. And yet, in addition to the front door, she counts two doorways leading to corridors and other rooms that should be no – no room for…

The man leads her to a chair by the fire. Its warmth feels real enough, even though none of it could be real. She mumbles her thanks.

“Speak nothing of it, I pray you,” the man says. “My name is Vernus. And yonder stands mine darling wife, Holly. You are safe and most welcome in our humble home, good lady.”

Holly’s mouth purses to a thin line. She says nothing.

“I scarcely dare ask how came you to be so – so unclad,” Vernus continues, all earnestness. “We shall find you something in which to dress yourself. And perchance before that, a bed in which you may rest.”

“And some water for bathing,” Holly mutters. “Where hath she been rolling around…”

Vernus nods at the comment, though with obvious sympathy in his eyes, innocent of any implication. “May I ask your name? Do you recall it?”

“Uh.” Lux clears her throat. “My name is Lux. Sorry. I should’ve – I’m still—”

“You are still in a state of befuddlement.” Vernus nods. “Pray forgive me, that I should press you so. Rest, now, and – yes, good wife, let us make things ready…”

The two withdraw to one of the impossible other rooms, leaving Lux to gather her thoughts. It takes some time.

After a while, tentatively, she reaches out from under the blanket, stretching until her fingers can brush against the wall nearby. It feels solid; real enough. But not – not quite like stone. Everything about this place seems like it must be…well, what? An illusion? A fey trick? That’s the only thing that makes sense…

What about Vernus and Holly? Also illusions? Lux thinks not. But there is something very strange about them, either way. More than just the fact of them and their bright sunlit home existing in the depths of this fog-blighted wilderness.

She huddles herself tightly under the blanket, soaking up the fire’s reviving warmth. Something else scratches at the back of her mind, something that’s missing – she can’t quite put her finger on—

“Ah, mistress Lux?” Vernus’s voice from behind her breaks her train of thought. Sure enough, he and his wife are approaching, now urging Lux to her feet. “Pray you, come this way. We have a room prepared, warm water, and clothing…”

Lost for words, too tired to argue, Lux lets herself be led along. That vagrant thought still hovering on the edge of knowledge.