When Iver woke up again, he felt weaker than ever before.
—It was not an illusion.
Iver quickly determined that this condition came from severe anemia. Yet he felt no wounds or pain anywhere on his body. Instead, there was a light, intoxicating sensation.
It was like the euphoria and comfort of embracing a lover and breathing in the fragrance of their hair.
After steadying himself somewhat, he opened his eyes and prepared to inspect his situation.
He... or rather, she, noticed that she was currently in a tidy, cramped room.
A neatly arranged sheet covered the bed beneath her, along with a soft, thick quilt. The wooden room had no decorations or entertainment items. Aside from the single bed, there was only a small desk.
A green plant sat on the desk, along with three or four books held upright by bookends and a cup.
But the first bad thing happened.
She noticed that there were no extra clothes in the room.
Her feet were bare, and she wore only a thin white nightgown... After leaving the bedcovers, she immediately felt the obvious, shudder-inducing chill.
It was only when she turned over and got out of bed that Iver noticed the heavy metal collar hanging around her neck.
Since there was no mirror in the room, she could not confirm her appearance or what the collar looked like. She gathered a lock of hair hanging down her back and pulled it around to the front, confirming that she should have black hair.
Soon, the host's ethereal, pleasant voice, soft as if telling a bedtime story, drifted gently beside her ear:
"You woke from the afterglow of sunset, feeling that your body had grown even weaker than yesterday.
"You had just dreamed of the beautiful past when you were still