About a month had passed. During these days, I did absolutely nothing. Yara and Tizor finally settled on Mount Slick, becoming full citizens, and Yara's grandson, Alas, finally began to live peacefully. I saw Alastia only once, and even then briefly, out of the corner of my eye. Unlike me, she was waiting for this day with sincere impatience.
And I... I just existed. True, the symptoms of my "illness" were making themselves known more and more persistently.
Recently, I was waiting for Mira in the corridor. Just standing by the wall. I took one step, and suddenly reality cracked. The surrounding world became distorted: the floor swam somewhere to the side, the ceiling also swam, and the stone walls began to breathe rhythmically—now swelling, advancing on me, now shrinking back. I physically felt that in reality nothing was happening; these were only the games of my broken mind. I couldn't move out of fear. Fear bound me hand and foot. I hadn't experienced anything like this in a very long time.
"Why did you stop?" a sharp voice rang out.
I couldn't even twitch, although inside I was ready to dash forward, breaking through these walls. Someone's hand rested on my shoulder and pulled me back with force.
"I'm talking to you, by the way."
In that same instant, everything fell into place. The walls froze. It was Aurora. But even standing close to her, I couldn't get a proper look at her face. It seemed smeared, like a canvas over which a wet brush had been passed. Every time she moved her head, the picture lagged and blurred.
Aurora looked at me and simply walked away in silence. And I remained sitting on the floor, not understanding what to do with all this.
Soon Mira appeared.
"Let's go," she commanded, adding mysteriously that she had a gift for me.
We entered her chambers.
"Hey, why do you have such a huge room?" I asked indignantly, looking around. "And the floor is warm! And the walls!"
She ignored my complaints. Turning around, she tossed some dark object to me. It was very wide, thick, and reflected absolutely no light, as if absorbing it. I caught the thing on the fly. My hand reflexively jerked down.
"Wow, it's heavy..." I marveled, weighing the object in my palm. "How much does it weigh? It seems so small, I'd estimate it's about 36 kg?"
Mira sat on her bed, closed her eyes, raised her index finger to the ceiling, and with the most important air pronounced:
"This artifact is the Ring of Bad Luck."
"But it's a bracelet..." I tried to interject.
"Don't interrupt!" she cut me off. "I brought it from the Island of Bad Luck."
"What?"
"Yes, Zenkhald, there is such a place. That is actually where I found my student. She is, let's say, from the race of gods. The Goddess of Luck."
"The race of gods?" I arched an eyebrow in disbelief.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
"Well, I told you. They are the ones who feed not on fear, but on faith in their essence. The more they are believed in, the stronger they are. You could say they are the complete opposite of fear demons."
I fell into thought.
"Wait. If there is a Goddess of Luck, does that mean a demon of the Fear of Failure is wandering around somewhere too?"
"That's exactly the point, no," Mira shook her head. "At least, I haven't met any, and the demons I asked haven't heard of such a thing. Apparently, it works somewhat differently, but I haven't fully figured it out yet. The only thing I know for sure is that gods cannot be reborn. Yes, they possess immortality, but not invulnerability. They can certainly be killed."
"So... what is all this for anyway?" Mira sighed. "Put on the ring."
I simply teleported this "bracelet-ring" right onto my wrist. It fit snugly, tightly gripping my arm. And why does she stubbornly call it a ring?
"And now what?" I asked.
The first thing I noticed were my own hands. I stretched my arm forward, tensed my palm, splayed my fingers... and was surprised to find that my hand was trembling. Like an ordinary mortal's. I frowned and tried to stabilize the limb through willpower and magic. But the more I resisted the trembling, the more the bracelet began to heat up, burning my skin.
"Hey, hey, hey!" Mira exclaimed, noticing my attempts. "Don't break my gift on the very first day! It was made especially for you. With it, you will look and feel more mortal than usual."
"And your student... did she make this?"
"Yes, we created it together. It's her gift, so to speak. She controls both bad luck and good luck. By the way, you never properly met her all this time," Mira noted. "I thought you'd be surprised to see her."
"Is she the one who always walks around in a mask?"
Mira nodded approvingly.
"But she seems weak."
Mira smiled. "Don't look at how she is right now. I am absolutely certain—in the future she will become incredibly strong."
There were only hours left until the wedding, but inside me there was not a drop of that joy usually attributed to grooms. To be honest, I had long since stopped burning with this desire. I had scolded myself hundreds of times for this weakness, for the lies, and for letting everything go so far, but the flywheel had already been set in motion.
This week vividly showed me how hard it is to be "almost mortal." The Ring of Bad Luck that Mira had fastened to my arm turned my life into a series of minor and major disasters. If I so much as jumped or simply stumbled, landing on my feet became an impossible task. Even a regular throw of a stone turned into a lottery where I always lost. This cursed bracelet seemed to orchestrate the entire environment against me: branches hit my face, stones rolled under my feet on their own, and the air became viscous at the most inopportune moment.
While I am in my normal state, I can still intuitively avoid most of these traps. But I understood: when I "reset," when my patience and knowledge are gone, this bracelet will become unbearable. I'll sooner smash it to splinters along with my own arm than be able to wear it for long. Besides, it overheated terribly every time I tried to resist the chaos.
"Alright... It's time," I exhaled, looking at the mask lying in front of me.
I slowly picked it up. That same wide, crazed smile, the spots of yellow and purple. I pressed it to my face.
Inhale. Infusing mana.
The feeling was as if I had dipped my face in molten wax, which instantly began to seep through the pores straight into my skull. The edges of the mask became soft; they began to fuse with my skin, merge with the muscles and nerve endings. A moment later, the mirror no longer reflected a mask—the mask had become my face.
"Ah-h..." I breathed out loudly. "How wonderful life is!"
The voice sounded unnaturally cheerful, almost ecstatic. The psychomagic began its work, burning doubts and guilt out of my consciousness, replacing them with an artificial, sparkling delight.
Tomorrow is the wedding. I need to check everything. Everything must be perfect.
But then a sharp flash of pain pierced my temples. I couldn't bear it and fell to my knees, digging my fingers into the edge of the table.
"Need to wait..." I angrily gritted my teeth, feeling the mask pulsing under my skin. "Just a little more."
The process of merging was agonizing. The mask had not yet fully taken root in my essence. If I try to get up and act now, the fragile balance will be disrupted, and the artifact will simply crack, unable to withstand the pressure of my "self."
I froze on the floor, breathing heavily and waiting for this fake joy to finally consume me. Tomorrow I will be the happiest person in this world. Even if I have to finally go crazy for it.