Page 73 of Emerald

Squinting, I turn away, navigating toward a small pool of condensation that's gathered on one side of the cave. The water is still and clear, just enough to catch a glimpse of the light reflection.

And that's when I see it. The pink glow.

The reflection staring back at me isn't entirely mine anymore. My eyes are glowing. Not just reflecting light, no. They are glowing. Bright pink, like two neon signs in a sea of darkness.

I frantically turn back to Eli and Rin. Eli is bouncing up and down in the water. “Oh, they are so pretty! And I can tell you are seeing better, aren’t you? Mine are really useful too, but they are scary, which I guess has other uses… but yours!”

My stomach does a flip. "What the hell is going on?"

A few strides and I am over at the stream to get a better look. The face is still me—still Olivia, same freckles, same slightly crooked nose—but my eyes…

I lean closer, my reflection rippling in the water. I wave my hand in front of my face, but the glowing pink stays, vibrant and unnerving. It's not… bad, exactly. Just unexpected. Kind of like a really creepy party trick I didn't ask for. Just like the weird fully green ones, though I suppose Eli is right. These are far more useful.

Okay, breathe. This is weird. But it's not the weirdest thing that's happened.

The moment of panic flares then dims as I see Eli’s one simple, undeniable truth: at least I can see. And, apparently, I can see in the dark.

"That's… something, I guess?" I mutter, staring at my reflection a little longer. "Glowing eyes and night vision. Yeah, okay. Not the worst thing."

Rintsks. “Are things overly bright? I got braceaaer eyes and they hurt in bright light sometimes.”

“Yes,” I say distractedly.

Useful, yes. Still, it's unnerving. I splash a little water on my face, half-hoping the pink glow will fade. It doesn't. But at least the cold water feels good, grounding me. I can handle this. I can figure out what's happening. After all, surviving this planet has pretty much been one long string of weird stuff.

Why stop now?

I turn my back on the puddle, deciding not to dwell too much on my new ocular upgrades. There's something else catching my attention now, and it's hard to explain exactly why, but…

Kroaicho's hoard.

I greedily look over at the pile of glowing rocks, twisted vines, and scrap metal that Kroaicho has obsessively collected. Up until now, I've always thought it looked like a bunch of junk—a magpie's dream gone horribly wrong. But now? Now it's like I'm seeing it for the first time.

The rocks are glowing more vibrantly than I remember, hues of orange, green, and violet blending together in intricate patterns that shimmer with life. The vines, too, have taken on a strange beauty, their twisted shapes creating delicate, interwoven designs that seem almost artistic.

And the scrap metal, the random bits and pieces I once thought were useless, now catch the light in a way that makes them sparkle, revealing layers of detail I never noticed before.

"Pretty…" I breathe out as I take a step closer, my eyes wide. "How did I not see this before?"

It's like someone turned up the saturation on the entire world. Colors I didn't even know existed seem to dance across the surfaces, every object in the hoard radiating with a sort of… well, magic. I crouch down next to it, reaching out hesitantly to touch one of the glowing rocks. It's warm to the touch, pulsing slightly beneath my fingers.

It’s almost like they are whispering to me. Trying to tell me something. Their story? Is this what Kroaicho means? Can he perceive even more than this? Is this how he learned my language so freakishly fast?

Even with these new eyes, I still don’t understand how that could work…

But I can’t deny the evidence before me. Everything has changed. Nothing in this pile is ugly anymore and each one teases me with the suggestion that there is… more.

What does he see when he looks at me?

There is this sudden, overwhelming desire to know what Kroaicho knows. For him to share what I can’t sense.

"Okay, this is seriously weird," I mutter, but there's a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Despite the strangeness of it all, there's something oddly satisfying about the way the light plays across the objects.

As if Kroaicho's random collection is more than just a hoard. It's a masterpiece.

I run my hand over the surface of a twisted vine, feeling its rough texture beneath my fingertips. "I'm starting to get why you're obsessed with this stuff," I say softly, glancing over my shoulder to where Kroaicho disappeared.

There's no logic to the assortment of rocks, vines, and random scrap metal, but there's something thrilling about it. Each piece feels alive under my fingers, glowing faintly with hues I didn't even know existed.

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