Chapter 29: The New Bed
Wade selected a straight thorny branch and cut it to forearm length. Using the ice saw, he shaved off the small thorns and flattened one side to create a ruler.
These frozen tools weren’t as durable as metal ones, but the advantage was that Mia could repair them anytime. Whenever the ice saw’s teeth wore down, Wade would soak it in a small water pit. The little ghost would channel her magic nearby, and when retrieved, it would be as good as new.
With ruler and knife prepared, Wade began processing the robe. After taking measurements, he made small cuts as markers along the sleeves, collar, and hem, dividing the robe into fabric pieces of varying sizes.
He extracted the golden threads forming the flying bird and floral wreath patterns, rolling them into a ball. Before dismantling these designs, he carefully carved their unique patterns onto the ice ruler as a precaution, though he’d already memorized them.
Now armed with fabric and thread, Wade could finally showcase his craftsmanship. He planned to make a carrying pouch, repair his worn boots, and most importantly – craft a small bed for Mia.
Considering the raging storm outside prevented venturing out, he started with the bed first.
“Mia, make an ice needle.”
Wade repeated his usual method, sketching the needle’s shape in dirt. After some mental communication and gesturing, the little ghost understood his request.
The translucent Mia floated beside the third pit. As she channeled magic, her frost-white short hair fluttered slightly. With focused expression, she conjured a crystal-clear ice needle.
Wade retrieved the needle from murky water. Were he a living being with body heat, this ice needle would have melted in his grip immediately. Fortunately, being a skeleton allowed perfect use of such frozen tools.
Sitting down, he called Mia over to measure her height. Standard double beds measured two meters long and 1.5 meters wide – enough for two 1.7-meter adults to sleep comfortably with room to roll around. Wade proportionally scaled down the measurements for Mia’s bed.
Threading the needle, he stitched together pillowcases and blankets. Using two thorny branches nailed into the cave wall, he created a suspended hammock about half a meter off the ground. Golden threads secured the main structure while fabric scraps filled the bedding.
The slight weight helped prevent items from falling off. Since ghosts didn’t need warmth, this was essentially a decorative toy rather than functional furniture.
“Try it out.”
Wade bent down to place the little ghost on the bed. She looked around curiously, touched the pillow, then lay down. Wade pulled the tiny blanket over her. She seemed suddenly shy, burying half her face under the covers.
The scene resembled children playing house – the doll-like little ghost contrasting sharply with his terrifying skeletal appearance. Wade scratched his skull, wondering if he should add mosquito-net style curtains.
As he pondered, Mia emerged from the blankets and floated back to his shoulder, staring at the pillow thoughtfully.
“This is your bed.”
Worried she didn’t understand, Wade placed her on the bed again. After several repetitions, an epiphany finally dawned on her face. This bed belonged to her – she could sit, lie, or jump on it freely.
She bounced a few times before looking at Wade questioningly.
“This is your bed.”
He reinforced the message through their mental connection. Finally shedding her initial hesitation, she began playing on the bed with abandon. Like any child with a new toy, her joy was palpable.
Wade recalled his first toy – a small wooden top with a steel ball at its base. Wrapped with a long string and flicked forcefully, it would spin across flat ground. The simple pleasure of whipping the top to keep it spinning had occupied him until dusk that day, lost in pure happiness – an experience he’d rarely recaptured since.
“I hope you like this little bed.”
Wade stroked Mia’s hair – the only time he could actually feel anything through touch. Mia seemed delighted with her new bed, rolling and jumping across it until interrupted by Wade’s caress.
She floated up to embrace his skull, nuzzling his forehead. Waves of emotion flowed from her – joy, gratitude, relaxation – lifting Wade’s spirits in turn. Even confined to this cramped cave, life didn’t feel so dull anymore.
…
Five days later.
Wade cut the final golden thread and tied it off. Smoothing the fabric, he examined his newly crafted backpack for any loose stitches or gaps.
The bag’s opening featured a drawstring closure – loosened for packing items, tightened and knotted to secure contents. Inside, he’d sewn a special seed pouch for Mia to hide in during windy outings.
His boots were also repaired now. Having used about two-thirds of the robe’s fabric, he carefully stored the remaining material.
Day sixty-two. Though the winds outside had weakened, they still raged enough to prevent venturing out. The transplanted moss thrived under daily watering, showing no signs of withering – apparently well-adapted to cave life.
Mia slept peacefully in bed, covers drawn up. Since the hammock’s completion, she’d abandoned napping in Wade’s palm, now sleeping like a human girl. Her sleeping periods had grown progressively longer lately – perhaps because Sven’s soul was nearly digested, the surging soul energy requiring extended rest for proper absorption.
The time felt imminent. Wade sensed today would mark his victory over that memory fragment. Having memorized every move of that Viking’s repertoire, limited improvement remained from endless repetition against the same opponent.
It was time to end this.
Hanging the backpack on the wall, Wade lay down and entered the dreamscape. For the 1,363rd time, he raised the knight’s sword and charged at Sven.