“1,749 days left…” by Duvencrune, Edgar O. Diary of the Long Night, 111th Edition

  It began as a simple bad habit but soon evolved into something more. Zora felt an inexplicable pull toward Orlo, which gradually became an instinctual urge to protect him.

  Zora spied, pressing her ear against the closet door in her room. With keen attention, she sought for even the faintest sounds—any indication of Orlo's state. She knew he was in pain. She could feel it, too, but was there someone there offering comfort?

  Every noise, subtle shift, or sigh served as a vital piece of information that she eagerly absorbed, seeking reassurance of his well-being.

  It had been over a moon since the Nightmare attack that had left Orlo severely wounded, with a deep muscle laceration on his upper leg. The medic was forced to extract the infected tissue to halt the spread of infection from the black blood, which included the Sartorius muscle. This loss was a blow to Orlo's mental health. Although Menschen couldn't fall sick or age, they were still mortal like any other creature.

  Orlo will face challenges in walking unaided, and the medic warned that his recovery would be a long process. Beyond the immediate concern for his psychological well-being is his realization that he will be different from now on.

  Zora found herself in unfamiliar territory. Born with an inability to perceive touch, she had grown accustomed to walking life in a world of sensory deprivation that was uniquely her own. Concepts like pain, warmth, and cold were understood intellectually but remained beyond her direct experience. The agony of a wound and the gentle caress of a breeze were indistinguishable to her, leaving her to rely on other senses and her intellect to understand the world around her. Yet, now she felt like hexed with Orlo's pain. She could now feel anything he could, and it scared her.

  Even Monica's kisses lacked the tactile intimacy that most took for granted. While Zora could taste some flavour and sense the emotional connection, the physical touch remained as distant as the Long Night.

  However, everything changed when she met him.

  And yet, there she was, gripped by her compulsion to eavesdrop. She pushed to listen as Muna whispered while Orlo's voice barely reached her ears. She had no idea what they were talking about.

  "Why don't you go?" her Spirit asked.

  "Muna is with him," Zora replied, whispering.

  "Do we care?"

  "About what?"

  "He belongs to you," her Spirit said, crawling onto her lap.

  Zora absentmindedly petted the Spider's dorsum. "Don't be silly. I'm with Monica," she responded, momentarily forgetting the grim reality—she had killed her—her first love.

  She finally heard the resounding thud of Orlo's bedroom door closing. Swiftly opening the closet, she crawled through the secret passage on all fours, knocking lightly on the wardrobe door from Orlo's side, waiting for his invitation. "Come in," his voice beckoned.

  Emerging from the concealed pathway, Zora found Orlo lounging on the bed, his legs outstretched before him. He looked at her with a knowing smirk. "Were you eavesdropping?"

  "What?" she replied, attempting to mask her guilt, "Of course not!"

  Orlo's smirk widened. "You entered just as Muna left."

  "I didn't even notice," Zora lied smoothly, "Should I see myself out?" she suggested, gesturing towards the closet.

  "No, stay. I'm bored," Orlo said, patting the space beside him.

  Zora approached Orlo and settled next to him, stretching out her legs.

  "How are you?"

  "I'm fine," Zora replied, "And you?"

  "Crippled," he quipped, "You were right," Orlo admitted, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "I shouldn't have been snooping around in my pyjamas."

  Closing her eyes briefly, Zora placed a hand in front of her mouth, attempting to stifle a laugh. Despite her efforts, a chuckle escaped, and soon Orlo joined in, his laughter filling the room.

  "That's a terrible joke!" Zora exclaimed between chuckles, shaking her head.

  Orlo nudged her shoulder playfully. "I think it's pretty good."

  "It's a horrible joke," Zora insisted, unable to suppress her grin. She cleared her throat and finally asked, "So..." she turned to face him, hesitating, "What did Muna want?"

  Orlo gave a sheepish shrug, his hand absentmindedly scratching his cheek. "She was... just checking on me."

  "And?" Zora probed, sensing there was more to the story.

  "We... almost kissed."

  "What happened this time?"

  Orlo tilted his head, resting it against Zora's shoulder, his expression one of defeat. "I... well, I hadn't brushed my teeth yet," he admitted, embarrassment colouring his cheeks.

  "You used that excuse two days ago," Zora pointed out, arching an eyebrow.

  "I panicked!" Orlo exclaimed, lifting his head and crossing his arms defensively. "I don't know... it's just overwhelming."

  "She likes you, you know that, right?" Zora placed her head against his shoulder this time.

  "I know... I think I like her too, but..." His arms dropped to his sides. "It's like... I don't know... how do you even kiss someone?"

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  "You just do it."

  Orlo frowned. "You make it sound so easy."

  "Because it is!"

  Zora turned around and sat over Orlo's lap. "Let me prove it to you," she said, gently cupping his cheek with one hand and sliding her fingers behind his ear.

  "First, you place your hand like this," Zora explained, demonstrating the motion. "You can caress the other person in this region with your thumb slowly, almost below their eye, and still pull them closer to you. But you need to go slow, create some tension."

  "Oh, that actually feels nice."

  "Yeah, and your hands are busy while you kiss. I used to never know what to do with my hands."

  "Ah, I see. That's smart."

  "Now the trick is where and how you look," Zora explained, her gaze locked with his. His eyes held unnamed shades that never failed to mesmerise her; she could easily lose herself in them if she wasn't already.

  "What now?"

  Zora blinked, breaking their eye contact for a moment. "Well, you can see if the other person is into you."

  "How?"

  "The pupil dilates," Zora explained.

  "Oh, that makes sense," Orlo nodded, "The autonomic nervous system triggers various reactions during emotions because dopamine is produced when the body expects something good, such as a slice of apple pie...or a kiss. The hormone can widen the pupil, which is actually a side effect. It's very fascinating," he blurted out.

  Zora chuckled, amused by his sudden burst of knowledge that sounded nothing else than gibberish to her. "Do you want me to continue, Mr Teacher?"

  Orlo straightened his back, leaning even closer to Zora and locking his eyes with hers. "Please proceed."

  "If you don't see the person dilating their eyes, you can trick them."

  "How?"

  As Zora's eyes lowered to Orlo's lips, he inadvertently followed her gaze. Full and slightly glossier than usual, her lips were a deep, rich shade that subtly contrasted with her complexion. The longer Orlo stared, the more he felt a warmth spreading through him, a heat that started at his toes and surged upward. His heart pounded so fiercely that he half-expected it to leap out of his chest. Mustering the courage to lift his eyes to hers, he was met with Zora's striking blue eyes, flecked with golden streaks that seemed to intensify and expand as they locked gazes, captivating him completely.

  "Now you're supposed to..." Zora began to instruct, but Orlo, driven by a sudden impulse, didn't wait for her to finish. He placed his hand gently on her face, just as she had shown him earlier, and drew her closer. In a bold, unhesitating move, he pressed his lips to hers.

  As their lips met, an extra heartbeat seemed to pulse within him, synchronizing with his own. His senses sharpened, his heart raced like a skittish butterfly in his chest, and the world around them appeared to brighten as if nourishing his very roots. The pleasure of running his fingers through the hair at the back of her neck and the delicate scent of petals that filled the air was intoxicating.

  Yet, as the floral fragrance intensified, becoming almost overpowering. Reluctantly, their lips parted.

  "What is this?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

  Orlo's gaze followed Zora's upward, and his eyes widened in astonishment at the sight of his room transformed by golden lilies sprouting from the ceiling. He stood there, lost for words, his mind grappling with the surreal beauty above them. This vision triggered a cascade of memories, echoing his Godmama and Claramae's stories about his father. They often spoke of how Yeso, happy, would cause flowers to bloom.

  Surrounded by the fragrant blossoms, Orlo had a deep realization. Despite the constant pain, the irrevocable physical limitations, and the unreciprocated love he held for his Hexe, a profound sense of happiness enveloped him. This unexpected joy, blooming like the lilies above, made him wonder: Was this the legacy his father had left behind?

  "Orlo?" Zora's voice broke the silence.

  "Did we...?" Orlo's words faltered as he struggled to form the question. "Did we kiss?"

  Zora looked at him with wide-open eyes and chuckled anxiously. Orlo couldn't discern whether her laughter was due to nerves or was there something funny he didn't realise.

  "No! No!" Zora replied, her tone carrying a weight that felt like a punch to Orlo's gut.

  "No?"

  "Of course not, Orlo!" her words tumbling out. "The first kiss will be with Muna. This was just practice. And besides... you're a guy. It really doesn't count. And I didn't feel a thing. Not a thing." Zora's rapid speech barely hid her discomfort as she quickly slid off his lap and clambered out of bed. In the meantime, neither of them noticed the golden lilies above them beginning to wither, their petals falling silently, turning into dust.

  "Oh, yeah, I forgot you can't feel," Orlo remarked, attempting to regain control over his emotions as he straightened his back against the pillow.

  "Yeah, this didn't count. That would be bad... and..." Zora glanced around the room, discreetly checking the ceiling. Finding nothing out of the ordinary—the flowers were gone—she continued, "I have to go... I need to do something. Yeah, there is something I need to do now..."

  "Sure, okay… I guess."

  "I'll come later, and we can try walking around the house. What do you think?"

  "I'd rather not," Orlo responded, sliding his body beneath the blankets and turning his back to her.

  "Orlo, you can't stay in bed all the time. You need to work out your leg. And..." Zora's words trailed off as Orlo interrupted her.

  "Was it good?"

  "Of course not! What are you talking about?"

  "Yeah, that's what I thought. I can't kiss Muna... she would be disappointed, too."

  Zora fought the urge to bite her tongue, realising she may have been too harsh. "It wasn't bad! You just need more practice. That’s all."

  Orlo rolled onto his side to face her, "How? I can't practice out of thin air!"

  "I'll help you. I'll practice kissing with you until you feel confident enough to kiss Muna," Zora offered, crossing her arms in front of her chest and straightening her stance. "In exchange, you also start to get out of bed and train your leg!"

  "Are you serious?"

  "Do we have a deal?" Zora uncrossed her arms and approached his bed, offering her hand.

  Orlo stared at her in silence for a moment before reaching out to shake it. "We have a deal," he finally replied, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

  "And I'm the perfect trainer. I don't feel anything, and besides, I've kissed more girls than you. It'll be like kissing a professional forearm!"

  "Thank you."

  "I need to... do something. I'll come to pick you up later!" Zora promised before leaving the room.

  As she closed the door behind her, she leaned against it, feeling the overwhelming weight of her emotions bearing down. She took a shaky breath and slowly slid down to the ground, her back pressed firmly against the door.

  Bringing a hand to her mouth, she bit down hard on her knuckle, attempting to stifle a scream. She managed to muffle the sound, but the lingering taste of Orlo's kiss still haunted her lips.

  

  The enigma of Black Blood remains one of the most profound mysteries that modern science has encountered. Its behaviour is inconsistent, and its effects on the diverse species across the Map are not fully understood. Humans, intriguingly, show a delayed reaction; they are affected over a prolonged period before transforming into Lamias, typically ranging from tier three to tier four. In my extensive research and encounters, I have yet to find a record of a tier one Lamia that was once human. In contrast, elves, when contaminated, almost instantly turn into Lamias, spanning from tier one to tier four. The rapidity of this transformation is truly alarming. It was initially hypothesized that Black Blood might interact specifically with magical properties within the blood. However, this theory does not hold when considering the Menschen, who, despite possessing inherently more magic than elves, take a significantly longer time to undergo transformation—not as long as humans. Similarly, other fae species react differently to the contamination, leading to the conclusion that the transformation process is not determined by race or blood type. In my case, I count myself lucky to have remained unaffected by Monica's Blood. Yet, despite my knowledge, I am continually drawn back to the pressing question of the origins and mechanics of the Nightmares. These creatures proliferate at a bewildering rate, and their very nature remains a puzzle I have yet to solve. Admittedly, biology is not my area of expertise, but as someone who must prepare for the End of Times, it is imperative that I understand the forces at play. How could a human, with our known limitations and vulnerabilities, give rise to such profound and terrifying changes? I don't know what terrifies me the most, the how or the why?——The Hexe - Book Two by Professor Edgar O. Duvencrune, First Edition, 555th Summer