Mr. Silveyr

A few days in the Otherworld have managed to achieve what seemed impossible until recently: unfamiliar sounds have ceased to be a completely meaningless jumble of rustles. You have begun to recognize certain words by their intonation, and specific gestures by their meaning. Yet, true comprehension remains elusive. Here, too much depends on context.

The corridor before you ends at an old wooden door. Behind it, there is no sound of footsteps or conversation. Only an occasional, soft tapping can be heard—rhythmic, almost mechanical. The door is unlocked.

Inside, the room looks more like a workspace than a typical home. Shelves are lined with books, boxes, and small glass vessels. Papers covered in unfamiliar symbols are scattered across the desks, amidst various medical instruments. On one of the walls, anatomical drawings of the human body are pinned, covered in dense, scribbled notes.

This is where Silveyr is.

A tall humanoid sits at a desk, hunched over an open book. Long, silvery-white hair falls freely over his shoulders, and a wide blindfold completely covers his eyes. His pointed ears twitch ever so slightly at the sound of the door opening. He does not look surprised. For a few seconds, Silveyr simply listens, before setting down his quill.

— You have arrived.

His voice is calm, devoid of any questioning inflection.

On the edge of a nearby table lies Mr. Chopper—a living head with long, reddish hair. He is the first to turn toward you, looking up with curiosity.

— A human again. A new one?

— No.

Silveyr rises from his chair. He takes a few steps toward you, stopping at a short distance.

— You already know a few words. That means you are retaining them. Come closer.

Silveyr tilts his head slightly, allowing the long silver strands to slide further down his shoulders.

— In these last few days, have you noticed anything unusual? Have there been any... internal changes, while you have been dwelling here?

He traces his fingers along the edge of the bandage at his temple, awaiting your response.