Several days passed before Lacia regained the use of her legs. She knew recovery would be slow; unlikely as it was, she’d already prepared for the possibility she might not walk again. Thankfully, that reality never came to pass.

  “It’s not perfect, but at least I can sort of walk again,” she thought. An exuberant smile shied its way onto her face. She’d grown weary of the medicine-induced paralysis—stretching never felt so good.

  Eagerly, she ventured her way out of the med-bay, tiptoeing along as she used the handrails for support. Her legs were weak, but she could at least make small trips before running out of breath.

  The hallways were dark and filled with the stench of bleach, cold tile exacerbating the chill on her skin. The thought of warm sunlight gave her the motivation she needed to push through the stinging ache in her side—just a few more feet.

  Waves threw themselves at the boat from all sides, splashing against the metal hull; the sound grew louder the closer she got to the deck. With a large heave, she pressed her body against the door as bright sunlight blinded her, forcing her eyes to adjust from the dimly-lit med-bay where she’d been recovering from surgery.

  Her bare feet burned as she stepped onto the sun-seared deck. She didn’t realize how well wood absorbed heat as she quickly retreated back inside, scouring the area for any nearby shade. Propping herself between the doorway, she took a deep breath, inhaling the salty ocean air. Finally, something other than bleach.

  Eyeing an open beach chair, nestled beneath an unfurled umbrella, she half-limped, half-fast walked across the scalding deck. Moments later, she managed to successfully tumble into the open chair, clenching her toes in blistering pain. While she’d wanted some actual sun, she supposed she couldn’t complain; being outside after what felt like eternity was good enough, though she had little semblance of what day it even was, much less the month.

  “Oh well,” she sighed. “It could be worse, I guess, but I’m kinda glad things ended up this way, because drowning doesn’t sound fun anymore. Err… Not that it ever did… I definitely wasn’t thinking straight.” She shivered.

  Adjusting her position in the chair, she found herself face-to-face with the same endless horizon as before—nothing but open ocean for as far as the eye could see. She’d grown tired of playing musical beds and medical tests, but she had grown just as weary of all the water—five minutes on solid ground and she’d be happy.

  “At least I don’t get seasick,” she laughed.

  She sat back and closed her eyes, taking in the mixture of saltwater and the lingering stench of bleach in her nose… No. It wasn’t bleach she was smelling but something else—something acrid, and it made her nose curl.

  “Is that… smoke? It smells like fire, but the only thing out here is water. Unless,” she gasped, sitting up, “the boat’s on fire? Oh, God. Am I doomed to have a watery grave anyways?” she sobbed.

  She couldn’t help but recall her nightmares: the empty beach, the drowning— “Stop it. You’re psyching yourself out… There was still a beach, and that had nothing to do with any boats on fire,” she pouted. “But still. Where is that coming from?”

  Hoisting herself onto the railing, she leaned over for a better view. The metal sweltered in the blazing sun, blistering-to-the-touch, but she didn’t care. She dangled over the edge a moment longer, welcoming the sea spray that splashed her face.

  “I never knew the sun could feel so good. That’s what days of dark rooms and air conditioning will do to you, I guess…”

  She began her climb down from the railing; her legs felt like they were on fire as they shook under the strain of her weight. While unsteady, she managed to secure one foot on the lower rung followed by the other, clutching the railing with an iron grasp all the while. Her heart pounded against her chest as she realized the climb down would not be as easy as the climb up. Blisters formed on her hands from the sun-seared metal, but if she let go now, she would fall onto the deck—there would be no way to break her fall.

  “I can’t believe I thought this was a good idea,” she panicked. “I’m losing my mind. There’s no way that was smoke. The bleach must have ruined my sense of smell or something. Now I’m stuck!”

  Without warning, a sudden squall battered the boat with gusty winds and a bout of heavy rain, nearly forcing her overboard. Her hair billowed in the tempest, locks of platinum against a gray sky. Steam rose from the deck as the temperature dropped nearly twenty degrees in a matter of minutes. While she wasn’t fond of being rained on, again, the metal had at least cooled enough to give her hands a break from the scalding temperatures.

  Another gust slammed into the boat, forcing it to careen into an approaching wave with tremendous force. Miraculously, Lacia managed to hang on, but not without first taking a mouthful of saltwater she subsequently spit out.

  She turned her gaze to the sky. “Would you like to add a shark to the next wave or are you done now? Like, what the actual fuck?” she muttered.

  Just as soon as the storm had arrived, it departed, leaving clear skies and calm seas in its wake. A brisk wind chilled her skin, a far cry from the warm summer-like sea breezes she’d been graced with earlier. The air had grown exponentially colder; a mind-numbing chill clung to her body like wet paper. She inhaled sharply, catching a strong whiff of the same acrid, smokey odor that forced her onto the railing to begin with. Summer was right around the corner, but the cold was unseasonal.

  A strange sound suddenly permeated her ears, but it was… different—something akin to that of crackling ice cubes in water. A violent shiver overcame her body as frost crawled along the metal railings, flash-freezing anything that dared cross its icy path. She had seconds to make a decision: let go of the railing and fall back onto the deck, or hold on and risk frostbite.

  Indecision mired her brain like a fog as she watched the advancing frost inch closer and closer. She turned her head around, trying to estimate the distance between her position on the railing and the deck below. The problem wasn’t that she’d climbed too high, though. While it had been a formidable climb, her legs had gone numb since; she’d wedged her feet between the rails to anchor herself. She tried to wiggle her toes, but they wouldn’t budge.

  Her skin was wet and cold, a prime target for rapid-onset hypothermia. Perhaps more pressing were the icicles that had started to form on the underside of the rails as the rainwater flash-froze where it dripped.

  She cursed, releasing her hold from the railing. Time seemed to move in slow motion; she watched as the place where her hands had been moments prior turned to solid ice. The air whipped around her back as she fell, plunging into the icy atmosphere. She arched her back, hoping her shoulders would take the brunt of the impact, but something was off—her left foot was still lodged between the rails. She squeezed her eyes shut; she didn’t want to see what came next.

  Her shoulders slammed into the deck, forcing her head to rebound into the wooden planks. The impact expelled the air from her lungs, sending her into a dizzying whirlwind of excruciating pain as she gasped for breath. She lay crumpled on the deck in a heap, roiling in agony.

  The hope was that her feet would dislodge from between the railing as she fell back, eliminating the need to move them herself. It was a risky last resort, but the muscles in her legs must have atrophied in her time since surgery—more than she’d realized. To make matters worse, she’d unknowingly restricted the flow of blood to her feet, causing much of the lower leg to grow numb as well.

  As she fell back, she twisted her foot in the complete opposite direction before it finally freed itself from between the railing. The pain was intense; she didn’t realize she’d been screaming for over a minute. With an obnoxious rusty, creak, a heavy metal door swung back on its hinges as Lacia’s agonizing screams continued, reverberating across the whole of the boat.

  Aria’s voice broke the cacophony of screams and sobs. “Lacia?! What the hell are you doing out here?” She made a sickening face as she laid eyes on Lacia’s now-broken foot. “Girl, do you like making my life harder or something? Here you are, sneaking out of recovery, just to injure yourself again.” She frowned. “And to think we were finally going to have our talk.”

  Tears streamed down Lacia’s face. “As much as I hate to see you right now,” she said between breaths, struggling to fill her lungs with oxygen, “I’m— The pain—” She scrambled around on the deck, somehow still wet with rain.

  Aria gave her a look, something between bewilderment and curiosity. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone break a foot so cleanly before,” she said in disbelief. “I literally have no idea how you managed to pull this off, but I don’t know if I can even move you—it might cause even more damage.” She ran over to Lacia, careful not to slip.

  “Twenty,” Lacia said.

  “Excuse me?” Aria replied.

  “The pain,” she said, foot beginning to swell into a bruised heap, “is a twenty— One to ten scale…”

  Aria knelt down, carefully examining Lacia’s foot. She took a deep breath. “Oh yeah… You definitely broke it. Just from the outside, I can tell there’s a clean break of the bone,” she explained. “Until we secure that foot, there isn’t much else I can do. If you’re looking for immediate relief, well, pain meds don’t work like that, so the sooner we take care of this, the better.” She removed a pair of padded splints from a medical bag. “If the bone truly separated, you’re in luck. If not, this could hurt—a lot.”

  Lacia’s breathing had grown ragged and inconsistent, but she managed to sit up, using the railing as support despite the icy metal. She watched as Aria unraveled the splints, preparing to press them against her leg. Embroiled with nausea and pain, she wanted to lean over and empty the contents of her stomach into the sea.

  “Again,” Aria said, “if the bone is still hanging on, even by a sliver, I will have to set the foot first.” She moved to place the splints but stopped. “Actually… Can you move it at all?”

  She wiggled her foot ever so slightly, but it was enough; the bone was still attached, but almost certainly broken. In all likelihood, when she’d twisted her foot between the railing, the initial twist had fractured the bone, but the ensuing torque had exacerbated the fracture, splintering the bone in multiple places; it would have to be set, after all.

  “Ok… Just close your eyes and I’ll get this all nice and wrapped up,” Aria coaxed deceivingly. “This should only take a minute.” Lacia likely wouldn’t let her set the foot if she was expecting it.

  Lacia closed her eyes, swaying in tandem with the rocking of the boat as the world began to fade away in a dull collapse of color. Was she always this tired? She struggled to keep her eyes open, despite her distrust of Aria. Colors melted like ice cream in the sun, dripping from the sky, off the walls, and seeping through the deck. She reached out a hand, but her muscles fell limp as if she were caught somewhere between wake and sleep.

  At some point, Lacia’s hand drifted in front of her face; the distortion reminded her of the way water refracted light, metaphorically breaking anything submerged within its watery clutches. Was she actually drowning? Could she take a breath, and would her lungs even work if she could? Her arms drifted in the empty space before her, fingers outstretched, waiting for a lifeline. Somewhere in the expanse, she could hear Aria’s voice, but it was distant, unable to break the barrier that seemed to separate them.

  Snaaap. The crunch was gut-wrenching, even startling a small flock of seagulls that had perched on the top of the boat. With a quick twist and subsequent splint, Aria had set the bone in Lacia’s foot. In a perfect world, she would have been elated, having set her first-ever broken bone. While she’d successfully pulled Lacia from a state of shock, any celebrations would have to take a raincheck.

  Instinctively, Lacia swung her elbow straight into Aria’s temple, temporarily stunning her as she stumbled into the railing, trying to regain her balance. She’d unconsciously attacked her after she set the bone; the pain shot through her nerves, triggering a half-conscious fight-or-flight response—Aria just happened to be on the receiving end of an unexpected stimulus she’d triggered.

  “Ughhh… What the hell was that? Did something… hit me?”

  Lacia seethed. “That really hurt. You definitely had that coming,” she said, opening her eyes.

  “Ok, but why did you hit me so hard?! I almost blacked out,” Aria said, pressing a hand

  to the side of her head. She looked ready to cry.

  “I don’t really know what you were expecting, girly-pop,” Lacia retorted. “If you were a man, I would have swung a lot harder.” She rubbed her elbow.

  Aria balled her fists as she stormed over to Lacia, ready to share a few unkind words. Woozily, she stomped through a puddle left by the rainstorm and promptly lost her footing, landing on her tailbone.

  Lacia watched as her face changed from rage to shock. “Aww. Look at you,” she teased, “pathetically sitting there in a puddle.”

  Aria’s face turned bright red; she was soaked-through in the worst-imaginable place. “I swear to God, Lacia… If you laugh—”

  “Oh, don’t get your panties in a wad, Aria. Or, should I say, a wat-er,” she joked, biting her lower lip. “Imagine how I felt when you sat there at the edge of my bed, taunting me. I—” She covered her hand with her mouth before finally losing the contents of her stomach. “I’m totally exhausted,” she groaned. Her eyes had grown heavy again. “I’m done. I’ve had enough…”

  “Find your own way back to your room, then,” Aria scoffed. “I’m over this. You’re a waste of my time.”

  “You’re so crass. No wonder you don’t have,” Lacia yawned, “a boyfriend. But it’s okay if you’re into girls too, though. Just know you wouldn’t be my type even if I did swing that way.” She yawned again. “Goodnight…”

  Aria was bewildered. “Where does this girl get off, thinking I’ll just let her sleep here? Not to mention it’s the middle of the day! And what in the world gave her the impression I’m into other women?!” She sighed. “It’s going to be a long while before I get used to this,” she grumbled.

  Several voices drifted through the door, a hushed conversation piquing her ears, ready to eavesdrop. Mixed into her dreams, she wasn’t sure if what she was hearing was real or if it was her brain trying to trauma-cope.

  “…Yes. We successfully… her foot…”

  “But… is completely splintered?”

  “... heal… way it was… to—”

  The conversation seemed to go on for hours as she tossed and turned, desperate to fall back to sleep. Whatever they were rambling on about, she could care less; she’d deal with it later as she buried her head under a pillow.

  “Why are you so insistent we dock and take her to a mainland hospital? These X-Rays are not as severe as you think they are,” said an older male voice.

  “I don’t care about the X-Rays,” Aria’s voice came. “What I care about is restructuring the bone. It’s so splintered there’s almost no way it will heal on its own.”

  The voices had grown louder, pulling Lacia from her sleep. Whatever they were bickering about, it was starting to irritate her. She wanted to sleep, not listen to a conversation about a broken foot. If it was truly that important, they could come and talk to her about it.

  Having given up on any rest, she slowly opened her eyes, adjusting to the light of the room. Daylight filtered in through a small port window, casting a pale daylit ambiance across the room. The shade on the door had been pulled down for privacy—like that was of much use, she thought.

  “Dammit, Aria! Stop trying to fight me on this!”

  “With all due respect, Doctor, she’s been asleep for three days. Look… All I’m saying is I think she should be looked at by a team of medical experts. I’m not trying to downplay your knowledge or anything, but we don’t have the resources to deal with something like this here.”

  The Doctor gave an exasperated sigh. “If you want to go out there, be my guest, but I won’t be able to help you once you disembark.”

  “Thank you, Doctor Reihner,” Aria said, relieved. “Besides, I want to see if the neriolite actually reacts to her or not. Like maybe it was a fluke?”

  “Suit yourself, Aria,” he said in defeat.

  Lacia sat up in bed, noting the conclusion of their conversation. “Now… If only someone would walk in here and explain to me what’s going to happen to my foot,” she sighed, her head falling back onto the pillow. “I am so sick of lying in bed all day. I literally cannot catch a break.”

  She sat up once more, but something felt… different. An increased cold poured from the window above her bed as if it were trying to provoke the heater, but why would the heater be on in the first place? Last time she checked, May was a temperate month in Alura before the blistering summer heatwaves took hold.

  Regardless, the heater was definitely working overtime. “How can it be so cold, though? Oceans don’t exactly get that cold,” she pondered aloud. “Err… I think we’re on the ocean or something, anyways…”

  The familiar rocking motion of the boat had ceased. They weren’t anchored; the boat was buoyant—it would bob regardless of whether they were anchored or not. Shakily, she pulled her covers back. Standing on the bed, she reached for the blinds above her head as she swiped for the string to pull them up but to no avail. Her foot ached, firmly held within a sturdy cast; small cat faces and hearts were drawn in red sharpie on the white bandaging.

  “God, I hate her,” she said. “Now I have these cute little cats on my cast and— Ughh! Why is she like this? She acts like a devil yet has this stupid girly side to her, too. Too cutesy—not very demure.”

  With a loud bang, the door to her room burst open, revealing a triumphant Aria as she stood in the doorway with… winter clothes? In her arms were two coats, though, if she didn’t know better, she’d have mistaken them for miniature sheep they were so full of fleece. Among the assortment of other clothing was a set of thick-cotton underwear, footed tights, snow pants, and waterproof gloves. Lacia rolled her eyes, noticing the stupid look on Aria’s face. Either she was genuinely excited about something, or someone had slipped her a little too much caffeine.

  Lacia sighed. “Fine. I’ll ask. Why are you so happy? Did hell freeze over or something?”

  “Actually, it’s funny you should say that,” Aria replied, a dainty look on her face.

  Lacia mimicked Aria’s pensive tone. “Actually, no it’s not funny,” she said. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  Aria walked over to a control panel by the bed. Flipping a switch, the blinds on the curtain began to rise, revealing a solid sheet of grey clouds; it looked as if someone had taken a bucket of grey paint and smeared it all across the sky.

  A short burst of heavy flurries nestled themselves into the arch of the window, sticking to the heater-warmed glass before they returned to a liquid state. Is this what Aria was so thrilled about? A quick burst of flurries? Lacia wasn’t amused, but Aria just stood there, clothes in-hand, beaming like a child.

  Noticing Lacia’s lack of enthrallment, Aria opened the window, blasting Lacia with a gust of freezing air and snow, blowing her bed covers into the floor; she felt like she’d been plunged into an ice-water pool.

  “Fine! You have my attention. What?!”

  Aria activated the lift on Lacia’s bed, nudging it just high enough she could grab the windowsill for support as she looked out over what had once been water; a hellscape of snow and ice greeted her eyes.

  “How… does an entire body of saltwater freeze in a matter of days?” Lacia asked, her brain struggling to comprehend the sudden winter-like scenery. “This isn’t a prank or something, right? Like, I will throw hands if you’re trying to mess with me.”

  Aria recounted the last few days. “The same day you broke your foot, everything began to freeze. I noticed the railings were already covered in frost when I walked outside, but it just kept getting colder and colder,” she explained. “According to temperature sensors here on the boat, we’ve dropped almost ninety degrees, and we’re still falling.”

  “So, what exactly happened, then?” Lacia asked, seating herself on the bed.

  Aria shook her head as she rummaged through the mound of clothes she’d brought with her, now piled on the end of the bed. She held up garment after garment, modeling each new potential outfit for Lacia to see.

  “Wait,” Lacia said, stopping her midway through. “I actually like that one. Can I—”

  Aria shook her head. “Shower first, then you can try on whatever you like.”

  Lacia tried to contest the decision only to be met with a rather abrupt, and rude, demonstration by Aria, waving a hand in front of her face as if she were removing a foul bag of trash—not her finest explanation, but it would have to do for now. Lacia’s complexion was a mired combination of matted hair, oily skin, and trace amounts of dried blood, but there was no actual body odor—probably a good thing, Aria figured.

  “What? Did you think I was going to leave you to fend for yourself? I’m going to help you, obviously,” Aria said, addressing Lacia’s sour expression.

  Lacia opened her mouth to speak but decided against the thought—some things were better left unsaid. While her disdain for Aria was strong, she could at least keep her less-than-kind thoughts to herself. Still, she did an awful job at steering wheelchairs, bumping into anything and everything. At the moment, however, she was more concerned Aria would ram her foot into the wall than anything else; the mental pain was unfathomable, imagining her already-broken foot crumpling as it connected with the wall.

  Pushing the thought from her mind, she decided to address a more-current issue. “And how, exactly, are we going to do this?” Lacia complained. “I’m not stripping down in front of you.” A devilishly-happy grin spread across Aria’s face. “You just had to ask, didn’t you, Lacia?”

  “I thought you’d say that, so,” she said, removing a bag from the back of the wheelchair, “I brought two two-piece swimsuits. I’ll let you pick which one you want first.”

  “On second thought,” Lacia said, “I’ll just strip. I’d be caught dead wearing a flower-printed two-piece. It screams bad taste.” She fumbled around inside her oversized t-shirt, trying to take it off, before finally throwing it onto the floor in frustration. “I really can’t take much more of this.”

  ***

  “This boot was designed for patients with less-severe fractures than yours, but it should still help you walk a little easier,” Dr. Reihner explained. “You managed to fracture the entire bone. Really, I should say splintered, but the point is, you will need to take occasional breaks. Our capabilities here are limited, but we were able to at least make sure the bone stays together. We can’t have bone shards entering your bloodstream.”

  “Also,” Aria said, “while what Dr, Reihner said is true, you’re still going to need an actual surgeon to fully correct the damage.”

  “Ok, so how long can I stay on feet at a time then, and how does this thing work?” Lacia asked, carefully slipping the boot on as she adjusted the straps, simultaneously fighting the extra-long sleeves on her coat.

  “I’d say an hour, but in the state that foot is in, even thirty minutes is pushing it,” the doctor explained. “As for how it works, the boot is made of a highly durable outer shell and packed with shock-absorbing foam inside. As the boot senses how your foot moves within it, it will adjust the foam and elevation accordingly to ensure the foot is secured. Anything else to add, Aria?”

  “It’s a weird little thing. Not very cute or demure, but it is effective. Every couple of minutes, the sensors in the boot also take scans of the bone so it can be as precise as possible when making adjustments,” she explained. “It’s not perfect, and because the bone is technically still fractured, well… The plan is to reach the mainland and get to a hospital before the charge in your boot runs out.”

  “And if we don’t make it to shore, then what happens?” Lacia asked sternly.

  “You’ve seen what it’s like out there. Take a wild guess. I packed enough supplies for 3 days since we aren’t, like, really far, but it’s best to be prepared. Also,” she said, lifting one of several overstuffed bags, “these are really heavy, and I’m just a girl.”

  “Never say that again,” Lacia said, cringing. “Anyways, Aria would probably just leave me behind if the battery ran out, to be honest,” Lacia said to Dr. Reihner, purposefully avoiding eye contact with her. “She’d just leave me to freeze in the barren wasteland of ice and snow, my body consumed by the forces of nature.”

  A look of displeasure crossed Aria’s face as she turned to look at Lacia. “I’m really not so awful a person,” she muttered under her breath. “If I have to drag you to shore, I will. Sure hope you’re flexible, though, because you’ll be sore for a week if I do have to drag you.”

  “And you,” Lacia emphasized, “will be at the bottom of all that sea ice if you lay a finger on me. I will knock you out, honey.”

  “Enough! You two bicker like children,” Doctor Reihner said, ushering them over to a large map; it spanned the length of the wall. “Aria has taken the liberty of labeling each body of water, landmass, and our approximate current location for you. Study it carefully before you leave.” He eyed Aria. “That goes for you too, Aria. Now try to get along. I’ll be in my office if you need me.” The girls watched as Doctor Reihner disappeared down the hall, automatic sliding doors swishing closed behind him.

  “Under normal circumstances,” Aria started, “you wouldn’t be allowed out of your room until you’d healed enough. Obviously, things are a little different right now,” she said, avoiding Lacia’s eyes, fearful of an awkward exchange. “I’m certainly not some cruel girl who wouldn’t let you have at least a little fun though, so here’s the deal.” She stepped in front of the map, spinning a sharpie marker between her fingers. “This dot here,” she said, tapping the sharpie against the map, “is where we are now.”

  Click. “Ow! What the hell was that?!” Lacia cried.

  “And that is so I can keep track of you. After all, they wouldn’t be very pleased if I let you run amok,” Aria said, shoving a small remote back inside her coat pocket.

  “Okay, but why did it shock the back of my leg, and who is ‘they’? Actually, what else are you keeping from me?” Lacia retorted, twisting around to find what shocked her. Being poked and prodded was one thing, but shock-collaring her was another—even if it was a bit of an over-exaggeration. “Let’s say, hypothetically that, at some point, I would like the tracker removed. How much of your ass do I have to kiss to have it taken out?”

  A stifled laugh forced its way from Aria’s throat. “You’re really amusing, you know that? You’re, unfortunately, not very bright, though.”

  “She literally just said I’m stupid. That’s crazy,” Lacia thought.

  The phrase seemed to reverberate through her head; Aria’s response probably meant she’d have to bargain more than what she was willing to lose if she wanted the tracker removed. She shot Aria a petrifying leer. She jumped.

  “Okay,” she said, uncomfortably. “If you want the tracker removed so badly, walk back into your room. Before you jaunted off to wherever, the tests I’d been running on you weren’t finished. There’s something about you that I just can’t put my finger on yet, so, unless I lose you outside somewhere, our work here isn’t finished.”

  “That’s reassuring,” Lacia grumbled. “I’m not sure that’s much of answer, but okay.” That was fine, though. She’d devised a surefire method that would make Aria’s icy will crack. “Call me what you will, but I’ve been one step ahead of you for a while now,” she said under her breath.

  “Oh, you poor, stupid girl. As you sit there thinking you know how to get the better of me, I would advise you to rethink whatever it is that’s going through that head of yours.”

  Aria grasped Lacia’s wrist, holding it in the air as her coat sleeve slipped down her arm. A small, metallic object glinted in the ceiling lights, fastened to the underside of her arm. Untethering the object, Aria stuck what seemed to be a small scalpel in her bag.

  With a quick show of dominance, Aria’s hand flew through the air, connecting with Lacia’s cheek where a sweltering red handprint smirked, throbbing. As if one slap wasn’t enough, she followed up with an even stronger slap, causing Lacia to bite her tongue. The bitter taste of blood filled her mouth.

  “That was for the elbow a few days ago. I have not been able to get rid of this migraine because of it since, but I suppose it is rather amusing, though,” Aria scoffed. “If you were thinking you were going to attack me with that scalpel, I’ll let you in on a little something. When you thought you snuck it from my scrubs in the Operating Room when we first met, I put it there on purpose.”

  “So, you admit you baited me, but I already knew there was no reason you’d have a scalpel, anyways. When I grabbed it, if it had been sharp, I would have cut my hand because of the way I grabbed it, but I didn’t.”

  Lacia pretended to rub her cheek as she waited for Aria to turn her back. The scalpel was never meant to be an offensive weapon, but a defensive one; she’d hoped to use it in a microwave to short the ship’s circuits. In the confusion, she’d use the dark to sneak into the Control Room, send out a distress signal, and wait to be rescued by any passing vessels, but before she could swipe the scalpel back, she found herself on the floor, hands behind her back.

  “Ok, so she has insane reaction times, too. What else can she do? Read my mind?” Lacia thought, surprised.

  “Do you want me to answer that question?” Aria whispered in her ear. Her breath was warm and uncomfortably moist.

  Lacia gasped as Aria released her from the hold. “You… scare me,” Lacia whispered, watching as Aria walked away.

  “Mmm… That’s more like it. Now, then. It’ll take us several days to reach the mainland by foot. Are you coming, or do you want to be poked and prodded more?”

  “I cannot believe this is what my life has turned into,” Lacia grumbled.

  The morning had begun to warm as the sun continued its trek across the sky, shimmering rays peaking between the high-rises of Seria, bathing Mana in a soft, orange glow. Sunlight bled through her eyelids as she stirred, slumped against the wall of the patio. The icy concrete made her shiver despite the influx of warmth from the mid-morning sun, but it wasn’t the chill that encompassed her body that caught her attention; her right cheek was uncomfortably warm, like she’d laid in a pool of her own drool.

  She reached into her pocket for her phone but forgot the gown she’d chosen for the previous night didn’t have any pockets. At the very least, it explained why she was so cold. She crawled over to the patio door, using the glass to examine herself in its glossy reflection. To her surprise, a small, star-shaped mark had appeared under her right eye where it glowed with a faint reddish hue. Like Lacia’s, it looked as if it had been hand-drawn by a small child who was just learning how to draw.

  “What is this thing?” she wondered, rubbing the mark with a finger.

  “I see you have awoken.” It was the voice from earlier that morning. “We are both short on time, child. I wish you hadn’t slept so long.”

  Startled, Mana rammed her toes into the metal legs of the patio table, each joint giving a loud pop as she bit her lip, trying to suppress the urge to simultaneously scream and cry from the pain. A small trickle of blood seeped from her lower lip as she bit down even harder.

  “I seem to recall Gods being benevolent—not beings that cause innocent young women unnecessary pain when they ram their toes into metal chairs because the voices in their heads won’t stop scaring them,” she said through clenched teeth. “Honestly, If I said I talked to God today, nobody would believe me. Not that having a name to call you by would really help with that, but at least give me something.”

  “Oh. I see you remembered our chat from earlier… Very well, then.” The voice paused for a moment as if it were thinking of a name. “You may call me Omnis. I am many things, some you are more familiar with, others you are not.”

  An abrupt tearing sound, almost like paper, spawned from a mysterious rift that seemed to appear out of nowhere; it reminded her of the cracks in the sky after the earthquake, but still… This was something else entirely—a tear in the fabric of spacetime, a gelatinous ripple with no set form; it was just a floating blob of black and celestial blue. She waved her hand through the strange rift, but nothing happened.

  “What is—”

  “Watch closely,” Omnis interrupted.

  What had been an indeterminate ripple in spacetime eventually came into focus like a photo camera. The murky colors began to congeal, mixing into hues of white and grey as a wintry scene soon revealed itself. She couldn’t believe her eyes. While she didn’t recognize the location, the wintry landscape seemed to blanket everything for miles.

  The scene faded in and out of focus before two figures appeared amid the ongoing tempest of wind and snow, their silhouettes juxtaposed against the stark background. They seemed to be carrying something, but she couldn’t tell what. Maybe a backpack? Or maybe it was some kind of sled? She squinted, forcing her eyes to comb over every possible detail.

  “Wait… That’s not… Lacia, is it?!” she gasped. The two figures seemed to be conversing with one another, though she couldn’t make out what they were saying. “Closer,” she willed. “Get me closer.” The scene rippled for a brief moment, obscuring the view, before it cleared.

  “Do you even know where we’re going?” Lacia shouted over the roar of the wind. They had been walking for what felt like ever in the same, indeterminate direction.

  “Of course I do,” Aria retorted.

  Lacia groaned. Her foot was really starting to hurt, and she knew the cold wasn’t helping; cold weather always made her bones ache, but a broken foot gave new meaning to the phenomenon. Still, she knew she was reaching her set limit on walking as the snow and ice crunched beneath the boot.

  She’d tried to discuss the idea of using sleds rather than heavy backpacks before they disembarked, but Aria had refused to humor the idea, saying that she was using it as an excuse to take more frequent breaks than the one-an-hour she’d been alotted. Likewise, Lacia had also refused to pull Aria along, vowing to dump her “dumb ass” in the nearest hole she could find.

  “You’re literally holding the map upside down!” Lacia whined. “Please, God, tell me we aren’t los—”

  Lacia plowed face-first into an enormous snow drift; it was at least twice her height. For a moment, she just stood there, too embarrassed to turn around. Aria, however, was having the time of her life, pointing and laughing.

  “Oh my god! How did you literally not see that? It’s, like, at least twice your size. Wait! Don’t turn around yet. This is the best thing that has happened since I got to shock you earlier.”

  Lacia quickly regained her composure. While it was embarrassing, her own clumsiness had actually prompted an important discovery—one that proved Aria’s cartography skills obsolete. What she’d originally believed was just a highly compact snowdrift turned out to be a border gate meant for official immigration between the country of Alura, to the east, and the Kingdom of Gila, to the north; they were in the middle of disputed territory that laid between the official borders of both countries.

  “Gila is the northwestern-most country to Alura,” Lacia said under her breath. “If Aria wanted to take us to the mainland, straight east would have been faster.” She paused, recalling the map from the boat. “That would have put us somewhere near the Aviid Isles to the southeast and the Kingdom of Miarn at Alura’s southeastern-most point…” Her eyes widened. She turned back towards Aria, now fiddling with the map. “So, I was right,” Lacia said dully, “she really can’t read a map. We went in the exact opposite direction.”

  It was clear from Aria’s map fiddling that she legitimately had no idea where they were. She was so determined to prove they weren’t lost, she’d missed the border-tag entirely, bright yellow against the stark, white background.

  Lacia packed several handfuls of fresh snow over the newly exposed sign, ensuring Aria remained ignorant of their whereabouts. If Gila was actively processing those seeking asylum, she could use that to her advantage, gaining immunity to Aria’s temporary conservatorship; it was a thought, and one that, if done correctly, could be a way out of the mess she continued to find herself in. While she knew Aria was keeping tabs on her thoughts, she’d already found a way to cut her intrusive pushiness out; she’d caught her off-guard the first time—it wouldn’t happen again.

  She scoffed. “It’s crazy to think she thinks so highly of her abilities when she’s so blissfully unaware. What a life. To think all I had to was picture a mental firewall in my mind and now she’s on the other side, frustrated I outsmarted her, after all.” She finished packing the snow over the border-tag; Gila would be a secret she’d bury along with the snow and ice.

  A searing heat suddenly brandished itself across her forehead as her body erupted into an adrenaline-heightened state. At first, she wondered if she was getting sick, but this seemed too sudden. Then, she heard Mana’s voice, distorted at first, calling out to her. She rubbed her forehead, trying to mitigate the onset of what she assumed was a bad migraine. All the while, Aria was watching her intently as the two locked eyes.

  “You’re not looking so good. It’s been a while since our last break, anyways, so we’ll stop here for a bit and rest,” she said, plopping down into the snow as she returned her attention to the map.

  While a break was appreciated, her head felt like it was ready to split open as the pain only seemed to worsen. Mana’s voice came through again, still distorted but manageable. She didn’t know how such a feat was possible, but she didn’t care. As for the coming migraine, she’d deal with it later.

  “Mana!” she squealed in soft delight, keeping her distance from Aria, but not too far that she’d grow suspicious. “How are you even able to, uhh, talk to me, I guess? Is this magic? Are you using magic right now?” Lacia interrogated.

  “It’s a long story,” Mana said, laughing. “More importantly, where are you right now? It looks cold, but Alura isn’t known for cold climates this time of year. Are you maybe near Buunit? You know, crazy weather and all. Maybe they got hit by a freak snowstorm.”

  “No, but I can’t really explain everything right now, either. All I know is that we’re at the border of Alura and the Kingdom of Gila. Umm… As for myself,” Lacia said, “I’m alright. Mostly.” The ache in her foot told a different story, however. Even so, she was fortunate that things hadn’t been worse in her time away from Mana and Brendan.

  “Ok, then we’re coming to get you, so sta—”

  “We? Brendan is still with you? Thank goodness.” Lacia gave a sigh of relief.

  “Yeah, and his friend Licht. Listen,” Mana said, “we can be there in a couple days. Gila is usually pretty friendly to Alurian people.”

  Lacia grit her teeth. “You can’t save me… Not yet, anyways. It’s not that I don’t want to be— I’m just concerned you’re going to get yourselves mixed up in my problems again. You’re not under any obligation to find me right now,” she said. “What I will say is that we’re heading to the mainland to find a proper hospital. Long story short,” she said awkwardly, “my foot is kinda, a teeny bit, really broken. It’s okay-ish for now, but it’ll need more surgeries to completely fix it.”

  “What?! What happened? Lacia…” It sounded like Mana had begun to cry. “I’m so sorry. I should have paid more attention that day we stopped off the highway.”

  “Mana,” Lacia soothed, “I want nothing more than to go home right now, believe me, but there’s somewhere else I still have to be, and something I still don’t fully understand. They’re related in ways I just don’t really get, yet.” A wave of nausea brought Lacia to her knees. “Urg… But you know where we’re going, now. I’ll leave it to you, uh, three to do what you believe is best. For now, don’t apologize for something that no one could have predicted. If I’ve learned anything, there’s always a way to look at even the smallest of happy days.”

  Mana sniffled. “I’m sorry it’s taking so long to find you, but we aren’t far. I think we’ve come across some useful information, too. Just… try to be safe. Okay?”

  Lacia giggled. “I know, but thank you. I hate to cut things short like this, but whatever this is, it’s draining me. This link is draining me…” Lacia slammed her palms into the snow, trying to stabilize herself. “I have to go now, but I’ll see you soon. I promise.” Mana’s voice went quiet—she was gone.

  Noticing her erratic movements, Aria walked over to investigate as Lacia hit the ground, ramming her shoulder several inches into the snow to absorb the impact. She was exhausted, like someone had wrung every last ounce of energy from her body and, of course, Aria was of little help.

  “What…? Where in the world did all of your mana go?” Aria pondered aloud; the wind threatened to sweep her words away. “You are one surprise after the other, I swear. What’s next? You tell me you’re some famous internet personality?”

  “L— Look. I don’t know what happened, but I feel like death warmed over right now,” Lacia replied. “And no, I’m not famous, and you’re s— still not funny.”

  “It seems you need a quick lesson on mana,” Aria said, failing to grasp what was happening. “All living things retain mana, regardless of whether living organisms are aware of it or not,” she explained. “That goes for you, too, but yours is gone. Actually, it’s there, but I can only detect the bare minimum you need just to keep your body alive.”

  Lacia’s vision slowly began to focus as a deep warmth spread throughout her body. She closed her eyes, embracing the influx of mana. She didn’t care where it came from, whose it was or why. Right now, all she wanted was to sleep.

  “I’ve shared some of my mana with you,” Aria said, breathing heavily. “It should help your body replenish its own natural reserves, but whatever you did, don’t do it again,” she warned. “We still need shelter… Just, uhh, rest here for now…”

  The coming night would be treacherous and cold, but Lacia was confident in Aria’s abilities, even if she was easy to manipulate. She enjoyed watching her struggle to pitch a tent as she faded in and out of sleep before ultimately falling into an exhausted slumber.

  “Man… How am I this unlucky?” Aria complained, the falling snow her only companion.

  Sharp pains erupted in Lacia’s side as she woke with a start. For some reason, though, the pain felt eerily familiar, but she didn’t fully understand why yet. Either way, this was one case of deja vu she’d rather have left in the past, whenever it was from. From what she could tell, it wasn’t the arrow wound, though that still ached a bit from time to time, too. No, these were much sharper pains, and they came in waves. She stumbled to her feet, clutching her side as she slowly raised her head off the tile floor.

  Did Aria actually manage to get her to a hospital? She shook her head. “No… This definitely isn’t a hospital,” she said, rubbing her cheek. “But why does this place feel so… familiar?” She looked around the room. “Oh. That’s why,” she said disdainfully, noticing the room’s décor.

  Pink and red party streamers lined the ceiling, draped across the room like vines in a jungle. White tablecloths were neatly placed across each table, perfectly ordained with gleaming silverware. In the center of the room was a large folding table adorned with even more decorations, doused in glitter for effect; it was covered from end to end with gifts, and they were all addressed to her.

  She surmised she was probably dreaming, yet she was completely lucid. An uncomfortable feeling overran her body, knots forming in her stomach, and every step she took she felt like she was wading through knee-deep water.

  “Lacia…” A hushed voice echoed from somewhere behind her. She spun around in her position on the floor, exacerbating the pain in her side, but at least she seemed to be alone. Still, random, whisper-y voices didn’t exactly calm her nerves. Picking herself up off the floor, she winced. The pain refused to abate.

  “Dammit,” she muttered, “How did I even get here? The same red dress, the same party room, the same pains… What is going on here?” She stumbled into a nearby table, steadying herself as she regained her footing. “Normally, I don’t mind heels,” she grumbled, “but when I can already barely walk, they’re really not the most useful things. Stiletto pumps, no less…”

  Monotonous laughter echoed through the empty room, bouncing off the walls, before dissipating into the air with the steady hum of the heat pump. She made another full circle, this time holding her breath as she tried to pinpoint the source. Unfortunately, she was only left more confused than when she woke up, the phantom laughter unidentifiable.

  If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  She bit her lip as she turned to face the gifts again, neatly wrapped in various shades of pink, purple, and red wrapping paper. Bows adorned the top of each, completing the theme. She grabbed the nearest one, carefully unwrapping it as anxiety crept into her nerves; she was growing paranoid, afraid maybe she wasn’t as alone as she thought. Printed on the underside of the lid read a simple message. Still, it sent shivers down her spine:

  “Happy 20th birthday, Lacia! As your parents, we are ecstatic you’ve grown into the young woman you have, but it’s because you’ve reached the conclusion of your teenage years now that we’ve decided it’s finally time to tell you.”

  “Twenty? And tell me what, exactly? Weren’t we just here celebrating nineteen…?” Her voice was filled with puzzlement as she continued reading.

  “This was the only way we could reach you, so please try to bear the pain as you read this. Sadly, by the time you do read this, we will no longer be here. Even so, please read carefully. All will be explained in due time—”

  “First, you were taken from us when you were still very young. You were special—gifted. We spent many years looking for you to no avail—not even the police or government intelligence agencies had any leads, that is, until we learned of your enrollment at Miruna High School—a school for gifted children. By this time, you’d been gone for nearly a decade, and we’d all but given up hope of seeing our baby girl again.”

  Tears welled in the corners of Lacia’s eyes as she read on.

  “The school was supposed to help you develop the wonderful gift you had received. Instead, they chose to suppress it, hoping to use its tremendous power for maleficent purposes. While we realize this is a lot to take in, we can, at the very least, explain what happened next. Your wonderful mom and dad have friends in high places, and when we learned of your whereabouts, we asked for them to watch over you from afar. If anyone got too close, the school would be alerted, though, so we had to keep things rather secretive.”

  “That doesn’t seem like such a big deal,” Lacia said, taking a seat at the table, crossing her legs for comfort, silken black pantyhose giving them a lustrous shine. “Still, this really is a lot to take in…”

  “That all being said, you’re probably wondering how we know all of this and what the implications would be if someone from outside the school got too close to you. Allow us to explain: The same friends we mentioned earlier had eyes inside the school, someone on the inside whose identity even we weren’t aware of. However, there was an “incident” once where a student from one of the town’s public institutions did get too close. They were subsequently retrieved and promptly had their memories wiped, or so we presume based upon the information we were given. So, what was it about you that was so important the school had to erase all memory of you? Unfortunately, we don’t have that answer, but it seems likely the school didn’t want its secrets exposed.”

  “Hmm… While it’s not what I expected, it’s not that crazy, either,” Lacia said. Her voice nearly caught in her throat, emotions getting the better of her. “Still, you pose a great question. What is so special about me?” She uncrossed her legs.

  “The school was headed by the Miruna family. Yes, they named it after themselves—they always did have a bit of an ego. Anyways, by now, we imagine you’ve met their little, well, not so much anymore, girl—Aria Miruna. She was especially gifted, but she loathed the world after she lost her parents in a freak car accident. To keep you safe at the time, you were given false memories of your life up to the point of your enrollment at the school. If you’re reading this, then Aria has yet to tell you the truth—not this one in particular, but she can explain in more detail later—but had she told you then, it would have upended everything.”

  A splitting headache began to form over Lacia’s left eye, as she rubbed her temples. “Has my entire life been a lie? And what of Aria, now? What does all of this mean?” She shook her head. “Just a little more…”

  “This is why you were sent to Miruna High in the first place. Once you grew a little older, you were told your “parents” were away on business trips, correct? So, the school sent letters, impersonating us, coercing you little by little as you played right into their hand. Of course, this was no fault of your own, and once you became a fifth year, you were given the option to live at home instead of the dorms. You obliged and continued school as normal from then on.”

  “Finally, you must be wondering where Mana comes into play. She was enrolled in your same school—those memories are genuine. However, she never asked about your past because she was led to believe the same thing as you, though she was always highly observant—we expected her to get into a little trouble from time to time as we’re sure you’ve experienced. Keep her close, Lacia, and cherish those who are closest to you. We’re sorry this is all we can say for now.

  Happy birthday, sweetheart.

  Love, Mom & Dad~”

  Lacia set the lid of the gift box aside; complete bewilderment bowled over her in series: Her parents, Aria, Mana… Was she really made to forget it all? She peered inside the box, hoping for any additional letters or clues, but all that remained was a small bracelet, neatly wrapped in white tissue paper; it was encrusted with various purple gemstones, but she couldn’t tell if they crystals or maybe even diamonds; they didn’t bear much resemblance to either stone, but they seemed to give off a strange sort of energy.

  Slipping the bracelet on, the hint of fogginess in her mind faded away as her headache subsided. While her side still ached something terrible, she could at least bear the brunt of it. She was surprised, though. She never would have thought the strange energy the bracelet gave off was one of medicinal abilities.

  “I still don’t know how I feel about all of this,” she said, staring at the bracelet, “but I have a big role to play in everything, apparently. Unfortunately, I’m totally clueless what that role even is. As Aria would say, I’m just a girl.”

  Deciding to return her focus to the situation at hand, she got up and walked out of the party room, heels clicking against the bare floor as she sauntered over to a window-lined wall—there was something she still wanted to confirm.

  She caught her reflection in the mirror-like windows. While she hadn’t expected to find herself trapped inside of some augmented reality-like dream, she couldn’t help but admire the mirrored emulation:

  The dress gave her bust a perfect lift, falling just above her knees, tightened in the back with a corset-like drawstring ribbon; her pantyhose glinted in the light, reflecting the fluorescent light from the ceiling tiles above—the sleek black garment perfectly complimenting her dress. She danced around in her heels for a moment, light dancing alongside her in the black, faux leather shoe; a buckle and pair of straps wound their way around her lower leg, ensuring a snug fit with the additional four inches in height.

  What surprised her most, however, was her hair; it had grown past the midsection of her back, a beautiful platinum-blonde color. It was beautifully braided around the circumference of her head, tied off in the back to reveal the different layers, resembling that of a waterfall of glossy, luscious locks.

  Even her makeup looked like it had been professionally done: burgundy lip matte, mascara, dusky eyeshadow, and an even-toned foundation with a little bronzer and blush around the upper cheekbones. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought she was being coronated as the princess of some mystical kingdom.

  “Even I’d fall for myself,” she said, wowed. “I look incredible, not to mention the little bracelet adding to my entourage now.”

  She cupped her hands against the window to see out, careful not to smear her makeup on the glass if she got too close; snow gathered on the ground outside, silently blanketing everything in a soft shade of white.

  While she’d initially recognized the party room, everything else remained equally as foreign. She squinted, hoping to find something she recognized, until she stopped on a small figure standing in the middle of the road. Whoever it was, they were too far to make out anything more than a general shape, but the voice in the back of her mind told her they were staring back.

  “Now I have to know who that is, so, if this is a dream, I should be able to just make things at will, right?” she pondered aloud, closing her eyes as she imagined a pair of binoculars in her hands. While they didn’t appear in her hands, a pair had managed to drape themselves around her neck—close enough. “Why can’t I do this when I’m not having strange dreams? Imagine all of the clothes I could buy if I could just imagine money at-will!”

  Lifting the binoculars, she aimed them toward the road, where the figure had been. Snow-covered rooftops and dark windows dotted the white landscape, but the figure was gone. She shifted her sightline toward the illuminated welcome sign where she rediscovered the same strange figure again—it had moved.

  The darkness of the night was deep, swallowing everything around it in an inky black—all except the weird person, or thing, that had juxtaposed itself against the backdrop of the sign. She watched as they lifted their arm straight into the air, above their head. Slowly, they propelled their arm forward until they were pointing right at her. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

  “What do you want?” she whispered softly. “So creepy…”

  The lights on the sign began to flicker as they seemed to rearrange themselves in real-time. Hoping it was just an optical illusion, she centered the binoculars on the sign, taking in the full scope of the letters before a word seemed to manifest itself in the snow beneath it.

  She aimed the binoculars lower, looking for the mysterious figure from before, but it was gone; the road was empty, and snow had begun to cover the surface. Reluctantly, she focused the binoculars on the sign again, reading the full message, starting with the word in the snow:

  “Your,” she read, “time is up.” She bit her lip. “Ohh… How I don’t like the sound of that…”

  A sharp whisper echoed through the hallway, causing Lacia to drop the binoculars with a loud clutter, just missing her foot. She spun around on her heels, hair whipping her in the face as she came face to face with the same mysterious figure from the road, cloaked in shadows.

  An icy hand gripped Lacia’s arm, unwilling to ease its hold as shadows crawled up her shoulder, turning her arm black. She struggled to free herself, crumpling to the floor as her strength was sapped. There was no way to loosen the shadowy figure’s grip. With each passing second, she grew weaker and weaker, clambering for release.

  “Time is up… Your time is up,” it hissed in her ears.

  The floor morphed into an icy sea of black, without form and void of light. Shadowy tendrils wrapped themselves around Lacia’s arms and legs, locking her in place. The restraints seemed to grow tighter with the figure’s steady encroachment, squeezing her limbs like some kind of toy. Panic set in as her mind filled with terror; her eyes darted back and forth, looking for a way to free herself. Her heart slammed against her ribcage, prepared to force its own way out if necessary; she curled her fingers, nails digging into the soft flesh of her palms as she tensed her muscles, squirming like a trapped animal.

  Reluctant at first, she decided to test a theory. There was no harm in a last-resort option—there was nowhere else for her to go, anyways. If death was inevitable, she had nothing else left to lose, but if her theory was right, it could be the out she was looking for.

  “Okay… Think about this for a second,” she monologued. “If I can feel the tendrils tighten, that should mean there’s some level of physicality to them, right? So, there’s only one way to find out…”

  She took a deep breath, slowly exhaling the sudden influx of oxygen into her lungs. If she could just relax her muscles enough, there was a chance she could slip through the bindings, but with the prominence of death and the stranglehold fear had on her mind, she could hardly relax. Even so, she had to try. With one final deep breath and subsequent exhalation, her body went limp, muscles fully relaxed. To her surprise, the ferocious grip of the tendrils loosened, giving her a chance to implement the second stage of her plan.

  “Here goes nothing, then.”

  She flailed about, unleashing one, final, adrenaline-fueled, thrashing, catching the shadow-clad figure off guard; she slammed her body into the ground beneath her, using the extra momentum like slack in a rope. She swung her body from side to side. She wasn’t free yet, but by using the same kinetic energy she’d created to swing, she was able to use the same energy to arc her body up and down. By using the newly created slack, she came down hard on her arms and legs, smashing the tendrils that bound her into the floor. The shadowy figure bellowed in pain, unleashing an ominous, guttural roar, but the pain was worth the gain—the tendrils retreated as she managed to pull herself off the floor.

  “It worked! I’m free!”

  Her heart pounded against her ribs, doped up with a concoction of adrenaline, terror, and hope—hope that this was all just a horrible nightmare. Regardless of what happened next, her feet were on the floor again, heels clicking against the tile, sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her. There wasn’t a moment to waste—distancing herself from the shadowy figure was priority number one.

  Whatever the thing was, it seemed to lag behind, still in pursuit, but she could at least stay ahead of it while she concocted a plan, or lack thereof. Truthfully, she had no idea how to fight something as terrifying as a shadow figure. However, she’d inflicted pain earlier—it wasn’t invulnerable—it had to have a weakness somewhere. Right?

  Unfortunately, she still had no idea where she was or why she was there to begin with, concluding that either she’d finally learned how to lucid dream or had stumbled upon some kind of doorway to an alternate dimension. At this point, she supposed it didn’t really matter, deciding that her next best option was to find an exit out of the strange building, but the only one she’d seen thus far was back where she started.

  “Yeah, there’s no way in hell I’m going back there.”

  After several more minutes, she finally came to a stairwell, marble steps winding around to the upper floors. There was no sense in trying to lap the shadow figure, and she certainly wasn’t about to wait for it to round the corner which meant her only option was up. As much as she dreaded the possibility of being cornered, she had to explore the upper floors. For all she knew, there was a fire escape on the floor above her she could use as a means of escape.

  “No time like the present,” she mumbled.

  She climbed the stairs, heels echoing through the open marble expanse as each click rose higher into the lofty ceiling. Reaching the second-floor landing, she realized the building was far grander than she’d previously thought. Even so, the second floor didn’t offer much: empty offices, dark windows, and barren, grey-toned walls hugged by similarly-empty glass display cases. Golden tapestries hung from the ceiling, embroidered in black trim, but that’s all they were—tapestries devoid of any significance or identity.

  “No logos or any kind of branding at all?” she said as she walked beneath one. “Even the nametag slots on the office doors are empty. This is so creepy.” She shuddered. “Even these walls are totally barren… No posters, fliers—nothing…”

  Failing to find an exit, she climbed several more flights of stairs, each floor as empty as the last. Exhausted, she decided to stop one floor from the top, slightly more decorated. Dim, round lights in the ceiling cast an eerie glow on the tan-colored walls, bathing the hall in lukewarm, yellow light. Office nameplates remained nameless, but a series of fliers had been taped to the doors in hopes of capturing fresh attention, but as she moved closer, she realized they were nothing more than templates; they were also blank, minus the colorful borders on the paper.

  She sighed, exhaustion finally catching up with her as she climbed the final few steps to the second-to-last floor before stopping to take a break. Considering the pace of the shadow figure’s pursuit after her narrow escape, she figured she was at least several floors higher, but how much time did that buy her?

  “It won’t matter either way if I can’t find a way out of this god-forsaken building,” she grumbled.

  The fatigue consumed her like a fire: sore calf muscles, stiff arms, and another skull-splitting headache. While she couldn’t blame her body for its weary state, she wished the adrenaline rush hadn’t left her so weak; she wouldn’t be able to fend off another assault. Her whole body felt like one giant deadweight as she pressed her back against the wall, sliding to the floor. The chill from the dark, marble floors only added to her predicament: she was freezing.

  “I’m sure if I can think up a pair of binoculars, I can at least think of something warmer to wear,” she said through chattering teeth. “Something warmer, please,” she prayed.

  To her dismay, nothing happened. What made clothes any different than a tangible item like binoculars? And why was she able to produce a pair so easily? She wanted to cry—it wasn’t fair. Not only did she have to learn her parents weren’t who she thought they were, she had just been attacked by some other-worldly monster.

  “I don’t know what I did to deserve all of this,” she said, holding back tears. “I can barely move and I’m so cold.” Despite the glossy makeup, faint shades of blue began to appear on her lips. “Maybe there’s something around here somewhere? A coat closet maybe? Although, I guess it doesn’t really matter what it is,” she emphasized. “I just need somewhere or something warm or I might actually freeze to death.”

  Begrudgingly, she pulled herself up, using a nearby doorknob for support as she leaned against the wall for another minute, trying to catch her breath. She moved slowly, her muscles growing ever-more-stiff by the second. The energy in the building seemed to shift, almost like a forewarning. An electric charge lingered in the air, pecking at her skin with tiny zaps.

  “If God is about to smite me, I hope he does it quickly,” she half-joked. “The tension in the air right now is insane. I feel like I’m breathing anxiety instead of oxygen.” She continued her perilous venture down the hall, one arm against the wall for support as rough, plaster-like crumbles added scratches to her hand.

  Something in her peripheral vision caught her attention. Looking over, she noticed a large, circular bruise had formed where she’d been held. Stopping to examine her other arm, she found similar markings. The yellowish bruises were unsightly; she couldn’t see through her tights, but she assumed there were likely similar bruises up and down her legs.

  “I could just, like, apply some pressure and see if it hurts, but that doesn’t sound like fun. I already hurt too much. On the bright side,” she said, running her fingers over a metallic nameplate, “I think I just found a coat closet. The only good thing to happen tonight…”

  Rustling the brass knob, the door swung open with a rush of pent-up aromas: leather, velvet, fur. She was ecstatic—finally, warm clothes. She pushed her way past rack-fulls of coats, jackets, and even the occasional fleece-lined scarf, but everything was either too big or too small. While she didn’t necessarily mind grabbing a larger coat, mobility was highly important; the ability to evade the shadow figure had to factor into her choice of clothing. Anything too tight-fitting would be restrictive, but anything too big could make for sloppy and predictable movements.

  “These look nice, but I just can’t take the risk,” she sighed, rummaging through even more coats. “I don’t need something this large weighing me down, and this is cute but way too small.” She continued digging. “Oh, this will work!” A white fur coat hung at the back of the closet as she removed it from its hanger—a perfect fit. “This dress doesn’t really help a whole lot, but the coat should keep me at least a little warmer,” she said, exiting the closet, “but where did all of this stuff come from? And whose is it?”

  The door closed with a soft click. She put her hands on her hips, planning out her next move; she was still too weak to fight back, and an exit remained elusive. What else could she do? She pinched herself, hoping maybe she was having an excruciatingly bad nightmare, yet nothing changed. She stood in the same red dress and newfound white coat, same empty corridor, and her body still ached.

  “I don’t know what I was expecting.” She dropped her arms to her side. “Ok. With this many floors, there’s bound to be roof-access somewhere, right? It looks like my only way out of this icy hell is an emergency exit or something. Maybe… Maybe I could lap that thing now,” she gasped. “If it’s checking every single floor, I’m bound to pass it, and then I can take the exit on the first floor!” An intensifying cold filled the air. “Still, I wish I was better-dressed for this.”

  She started towards the stairwell, nervous, but this was her only chance. The longer she waited, the faster her window of opportunity would close, and this being the second floor from the top, she was like a rat trapped in a cage. She’d never forgive herself if she sabotaged her own escape out of hesitation.

  “One foot in front of the other,” she said. “You can do it, Lacia. Don’t waste the opportunity you have to slip out of here.” Unsteady footsteps echoed through the hall, growing steadier and more rhythmic by the second until, finally, she broke into a sprint. “This is it! I don’t see the shadow figure, so I should be able to slip right past and—”

  Her sprint slowed as the faint caricature of a man danced on the far walls of the stairwell, cloaked in shimmering shadows. She froze, knowing she’d just run out of time. Too weak to fight, and no exits to be found, existential dread filled her veins like a disease, the final glimmer of hope wilting like a flower.

  Without thinking, she bolted up the final flight of stairs. Despite the short climb, she was completely out of breath as her lungs screamed at her to stop—even her legs seemed to threaten to give out at any moment. She scanned the hallway, eyes skimming every last placard, poster, and sign for anything that indicated a fire escape, other stairs, or roof access—anything. She just needed something.

  Without warning, the ceiling lights burst, scattering broken glass across the floor as it bounced off her body. She was thankful for quick reflexes, but there were no other sources of light; she’d have to rely on the mental image she’d created of the building’s floorplan.

  Thankfully, each subsequent floor was laid out the same as the last, though wandering around in the dark while being chased by some shadow-figure-monster-thing was not her idea of fun. The hall was dark, the only light coming from the floor below as it spilled out into the stairwell.

  “I know where I am as long as I keep a hand on the railing. These floors are all the same,” she said shakily. “There has to be some kind of way out. It’s the top floor. It’s mandated in the building codes as long as wherever this place is, is still in Alura!”

  At the far end of the hall, a red sign glinted in the reflection of a glass door; the light from the stairwell must have hopped from door to door, reflecting it onto a large, metal access. Lacia’s heart skipped a beat as she read the sign: Roof Access. Authorized Personnel Only.

  “I have to be the luckiest girl alive right now. There’s literally no way!”

  Her heels struck the tile floor as she sprinted towards the access door, spirits dropping as she tried the door handle. It wouldn’t budge at all; the handle was locked in the upright position, taunting her as she pounded her fists against the cold steel.

  “Fuck! This is it…” She sank to her knees, hair falling past her face as she pressed her hands to the floor. “I’m actually going to die here…”

  She turned her back to the door, knees pressed together. Her face was a cross between despair and subliminal fear. She struggled against the door, back arching higher and higher as the shadows snaked across the floor, seeking their prey from earlier that night, but they didn’t seem to be aware of her presence yet. Even so, it didn’t matter. Fear was a powerful weapon, and it controlled every racing thought that entered her mind. The shadows continued to grow longer, darker. The first glimpses of her pursuer arrived at the top of the stairs, beady, red eyes cutting through the dark.

  The tension in her body eased as she sat against the door, legs sprawled out on the cold tile. Every ounce of resistance fled from her muscles, the shadow figure’s eyes gorging on the fear that poured from her body like sweat. Her life flashed before her eyes as seconds became minutes; breaths grew into staggered sobs; warm tears rolled down her cheeks, crashing into the floor.

  “It’s ok,” she sobbed. “I’ll be okay… I should have known twenty years was twenty years too long.” She laughed. “They always said I had to confront my demons. Is this what that’s like?”

  Unexpectedly, the handle began to jiggle. Startled, Lacia half jumped, half crawled, out of the way. A faint grunt came from behind the door before it blew off its hinges, metal rungs scattering down a set of concrete steps and onto the tile. She watched as it skidded down the hall where it crashed into the back wall.

  Turning back towards the now-open doorway, Lacia beamed with excitement. Aria stood in the empty door frame, a mix of annoyance and relief crossing her face. Pale moonlight illuminated her brunette locks as she flipped her hair over her shoulder, allowing it to settle against her back.

  For the first time, Lacia noticed Aria’s lavender-blue irises, a beautiful combination of colors against her silhouette in the backdrop of the moon. She couldn’t help but wonder if the dueling shades symbolized a part of her she’d yet to share, something not even Aria understood about herself, but they were fierce, angry as they leered over Lacia’s head.

  Lacia stood up, ready to leap into the arms of her savior. If there was ever a time to be thankful for her bullshit, it was now, but she didn’t want Aria to know she’d been crying, having nearly given up on life. As if her tear-stained eyes weren’t enough, her outburst moments earlier wasn’t something she was ready to share—not yet.

  “You know, I haven’t been super into dresses these last few years,” Aria started, “but I feel kind of,” she smirked, “in charge. I don’t know how you managed to get here, Lacia, but it seems you’re not alone.”

  The tails of her dress fluttered in the wind like a sea of celestial purple, white stilettos resonating through the echo-chamber hallway. Her footsteps were slow and methodical, almost as if she were imparting a warning to the shadow figure.

  “It’s a little too dark in here,” she said. “Let’s add a little light.” Several small orbs emanated from her body as she guided each into a resting position somewhere above her head. “Now, then.”

  The luminescent orbs cast stray shadows into hiding as Aria’s figure was enveloped in the new ethereal light; she was beautiful. Red highlights flared around the edges of her eyes, juxtaposed with long, black eyelashes and pink blush; her skin was flawless, a perfect, peachy tone.

  Forgetting her earlier plight, Lacia found herself jealous. Aria was beautiful, and she’d never seen anyone rock white tights as well as she did, complimenting the purple waves in the skirt of her dress. She couldn’t believe how she seemed to almost… sparkle, hints of light glinting off her arms, cheeks, and upper chest. A flowery white bow held the ensemble together, wrapping the outfit up with a nice ribbon-like material.

  “Aria… You’re so pretty,” Lacia fawned, “but how did you get…” her voice cracked.

  A stinging cold enveloped her lower half as the last of her remaining strength was sapped away bit by bit. Dropping to the floor, she grabbed at her waist, struggling to free herself from the clutches of whatever had begun to wrap itself around her.

  “Time is up…” a familiar voice hissed. Lacia’s blood ran cold.

  Lacia’s eyes widened. “Why couldn’t you just heed her warning? That woman makes me want to run away!”

  The shadow-clad figure made its debut at the top of the stairs, its full form inching ever closer to Lacia, now immobilized in the clutches of an unseen force. A numbing cold poured from its shadowy tendrils, finally revealing themselves as they continued to wrap around her body.

  She was quickly pinned to the floor again, cheek pressed against the icy floors, an all-too-familiar sensation, but something felt different this time. She wasn’t just losing strength, she could feel her life slipping away, devoured by something straight out of a nightmare as she lay immobilized. Yet more shadows bound her arms behind her back and ankles together.

  “Time is up,” the shadow-clad figure repeated.

  “Lacia,” Aria spoke, “how did you manage to cross paths with a devil, much less in the middle of a nightmare?”

  “Aria,” Lacia said weakly, “I don’t have time for 21 questions… Any help would be greatly appreciated,” she pleaded.

  “Very well. I’ve wanted a chance to play for a while now, anyways. So,” Aria said, addressing the devil, “you think this is your domain, do you?” She put a hand to her lips, trying to hide a giggle. “The evil pouring from you right now is super strong. I don’t know if I can beat you,” she said with a dainty voice, “but I look forward to a challenge.”

  The devil halted its advance as Lacia was peeled from the floor, the shadows lifting her into the air. She squeezed her eyes shut, mentally preparing herself for what might come next. The tendrils held her tight. Her bones began to fracture under the pressure.

  “Aria…” the devil hissed, embellishing each syllable. “How nice of you to come!”

  “Oh? We’re on a first-name basis now, are we? I haven’t met you before,” she said, voice steady. “Which one are you?” she demanded.

  Another tendril slithered across Lacia’s body, carefully wrapping itself around her neck. A searing heat burned into her skin, etching a hollow ring of black hexes. She squirmed, but it was no use.

  “Our master will be pleased that his curse mark has been applied,” the devil said, admiring its new handiwork. It seemed to pay Aria little mind, avoiding her faulty leer. “I wonder… Will you save the girl, or,” it paused, "will you sacrifice her to create a world free of strife? How devoted to your original ideals are you, little girl?”

  Aria seethed with rage. She didn’t appreciate being mocked by a devil. “Calling me a little girl when I’m about to turn you to ash is pretty bold,” she scoffed, eyes still fixed on the devil, “but you still haven’t told me who you are or what you want.” Her voice grew threatening.

  The devil continued its examination of Lacia as it spoke, twirling her around in midair like some kind of spit roast. “This one here has a very special gift. It is the last one I, or, should I say, we need in order to open the gate.”

  “You don’t mean—”

  “I do. The very same. The Erill Gate,” the devil said, finally paying heed to Aria.

  “You really think you can resurrect the Banished Ones alone?” she posed. Her eyes twinkled with curiosity, though she’d yet to remove them from the devil. Suddenly, a small glint caught her attention, but it was inconsistent.

  “Aria—” Lacia gestured towards the bracelet on her wrist as it glinted once more, caught in the moonlight from the open doorway. “Maybe she’ll know something about this thing I don’t.”

  “I see. If that bracelet is what I think it is, then…” A cold pool developed beneath Aria’s feet—an expected attack, even if she couldn’t see it. She sidestepped the invisible strike with ease. “Oh? Now, that wasn’t very nice,” she pouted.

  “You humans are so peculiar,” the devil growled. “You sidestepped an attack you could not see. How?”

  “Give me your name first, then maybe I’ll tell you,” she taunted. “I have to be careful. I still don’t know what this thing’s capable of and if I make it mad, it might kill Lacia.”

  “Ha! You’ve been a good sport. I suppose I will grant you your wish before I drain your life as well.”

  A grin slithered across the devil’s face. A set of sharp, pointed teeth broke from its shadowy facade. A deep, disembodied voice emanated from somewhere deep within its throat, but neither Lacia nor Aria could make out what it was saying.

  “Quit mumbling! Use your words,” Aria demanded.

  “Lucifero,” it hissed.

  Aria’s face lit up with a mixture of surprise and shock. “The third in line to the throne of the Reverse Royalty… Lucky me,” she grumbled. “I thought you were—”

  “Dead? While that blast from your ancestor, Saint Miruna I think was the poor bastard’s name, certainly left me in quite a mess, he never finished the job,” Lucifero grinned with a widening smile, “and now I’m here to take this one’s little gift, but it seems I get to have you for dessert, Miss Miruna!”

  Aria licked her lips, the strawberry taste of her lip gloss embellishing her tongue. “Now, don’t get me excited, Lucifero,” she said, cheeks flushed. “I’ve waited so long to get my revenge on you monsters… When that man took me in… That promise… Ah! I could just— Mm!”

  Lucifero’s grin began to fade. “Your poor thing, You really don’t know, do you? The man you hold in such high regard is—"

  “Shut up!” she shouted back. “Don’t you dare ruin my moment of ecstasy. I’ll cut you down where you stand in a minute.” She locked her gaze on Lucifero, quickly analyzing what the devil had shared. “If it took you this long to finally reappear,” she said slowly, “then that means you’re desperate. If Lacia fully awakened her gift, she would disrupt everything you’ve worked so hard for, you poor thing,” she taunted back. “That means she’s close to her awakening…”

  Lucifero’s grin returned to its shadow-clad state; the devil realized it had been outsmarted; she was a threat, yet she lacked several pieces of vital information. The next move would decide who took an early lead in the ensuing battle.

  A flurry of pointed shadows shot up from the floor beneath Aria’s feet—another sneak attack. While she hadn’t expected Lucifero to attack the same place twice, she effortlessly sidestepped the attack again, suffering only a minor laceration to her inner left thigh.

  “Ripped tights aren’t a good look on anyone,” she said, disappointed. “I can’t believe you did that.”

  “Take this fight seriously, girl, or your friend will be dead in minutes!”

  “I got under its, uhh, skin? Shadows?” She shook her head. “All that means is my hunch was correct. Tch. And they doubt the power of women’s intuition…” The air grew thick, blanketing the hallway in enriched mana. “Now,” she emphasized, “you have me excited!”

  “Aria,” Lacia groaned, “please release your hormones somewhere else. I’m… really fading here…”

  “Ew! What? No! Don’t make me out to be some horn—” A small, shadow-like spear soared toward Aria as she caught it between her fingers. Blood trickled down her hand. “I was in the middle of a conversation, you know? Did you really think that would hurt me?” she said as the shadows dissolved into light. “I’ve stalled this thing just long enough now.”

  An amalgamation of condensed mana formed in the palm of her hand; rays of light shot from a spiraling orb small enough to mistake for a toy, but powerful enough to level a small city. The miniature ball of golden light began to expand in size, banishing any shadows within the range of its luminescence—not even the icy floors were spared as heat shimmered across the tile like a summer heatwave.

  “You don’t have nearly the same strength your ancestor did. You don’t really think that puny ball of light will hurt me, do you?” Lucifero taunted.

  Aria bit her lower lip until she bled. “Actually, I do,” she whispered, inches from the devil’s back.

  Lucifero’s body burst into a mass of shadows, sharper than razor blades as the devil failed to stop Aria’s feint. Furious, it turned to Lacia, still wrapped up, and tightened its hold. A loud snap and subsequent scream signaled her second broken bone in as many weeks.

  “You were warned, girl. Her life is decided by me and me alone now,” Lucifero snickered. “That was just her arm. Will she stay conscious long enough for me to break a few ribs, too?” Lucifero’s voice had grown desperate, but the devil wasn’t bluffing; it intended on making good on its promises.

  “Let go of her,” Aria said, reaffirming her position behind the devil again. “You won’t be able to fight me if you keep hanging on to her like we’re in some kind of tentacle p—”

  Lucifero managed to land a blow, grazing Aria’s cheek. “You’re fast,” she said, surprised. “It seems you’re not the same moron you’re made out to be, Lucifero. Not even my ancestors thought you were a worthy foe! How does that make you feel?!” she shouted.

  Lucifero flung Lacia down the hall with enough force to send her cratering into the wall. She was motionless amid a cloud of dust and plaster. Wooden support beams had been snapped in half as she’d soared straight them before losing momentum. The sound of splitting wood and crunch of rubble echoed up the hall, but Lacia remained silent.

  “And with that, you’ve signed your return ticket back to hell,” Aria said, furious. Her eyes left streaks of light where she stood as she sped towards Lucifero, eager to land an attack of her own. “Not that I was ever going to hold back, but I also wasn’t planning on using every ounce of mana I had… God, I hope this works…”

  Lucifero’s shadows overtook the hall, plunging everything into pitch darkness amidst an otherworldly clash between dark and light. Finally landing a blow of her own, she seared a hole through the devil’s midsection.

  “You have three seconds to bow your head and kneel before me, you filth. I’ll let you in on a little secret, though,” Aria said, parrying Lucifero’s shadows with her own blades of light. “If Lacia isn’t breathing, you won’t be, either.”

  “Is that what you think?” the devil laughed. “Do you think this is a game? Where you get to choose between life and death? I hold the key to your fates!”

  “Three…”

  Lucifero landed another strike, this time hitting the mark. Aria choked, trying to hold back a mass of fresh blood, but it poured from her mouth like a waterfall, staining her lips red as it pooled onto the floor at her feet. The devil had managed to pierce her stomach with an unseen shadow, hidden somewhere in her peripheral vision.

  She dropped to her knees, coughing up a new mass of blood. The color drained from her face in seconds, leaving only a ghostly complexion not even her makeup could hide. Her hair fell into her face, soaking up the flood of tears that flooded down her cheeks; her ends dipped into the pool of blood like paintbrushes, preparing to paint her demise as she shut the world out.

  Lucifero crept forward, wrapping Aria’s arms and legs in the same shadows the devil had used to bind Lacia. A fresh spurt of blood oozed from her wound, splattering onto the tile with a loud splash. Yet, despite being an inch from death, she smiled as she opened her eyes, revealing the same burning ferocity from before.

  “Fool. I am Lucifero, third in line to the throne of the Reverse Royalty’s most powerful, most elite, devils.” An eerie tingle brushed Aria’s ear. “And now you will sit by my future throne, chained like a dog,” the devil whispered.

  “Two,” Aria counted, “and, I prefer cats, sorry,” she said, weakly.

  The air suddenly grew exponentially heavier, almost as if someone had turned gravity up to eleven. The ball of light in Aria’s palm had disappeared after she’d initiated her assault, but she’d never stopped accumulating more mana from the surrounding environment. She had to allow Lucifero to land an attack, or her efforts would have been in vain. Still, she hadn’t expected a killing blow; she only needed the devil to strike her once, and preferably not in the stomach.

  “Hey,” she said, weakly, “have you ever wondered what it would be like if you were at the center of a supernova? Everything else around you burning up in the stellar evacuation?”

  Lucifero ignored her question. “You will die here, Aria Miruna. Upon your death, I will retrieve your little friend’s body and take what is rightfully mine. Your souls will forever be chained to my throne as you watch me ascend.”

  Aria sighed. “That sounds terrible, not gonna lie,” she said. “Also, my head is a little foggy right now. I think it’s the blood loss… Remind me what comes before two?”

  “Why are you still counting?!” Lucifero demanded, slamming Aria against the wall.

  The impact only exacerbated her bleeding. She swore she could see stars as she struggled for breath, clutching her chest. Every joint in her body simultaneously popped as she collided with the wall, leaving an impression where she’d been moments prior.

  “One,” she managed to choke.

  The ball of light she’d been controlling from earlier suddenly reappeared in the palm of her hand as it began to swirl. It was slow at first, but gradually picked up speed, throwing shimmering rays of light into the shadow-lined hallway. The light had grown so bright, it illuminated the sky with the luster of a thousand suns; night quickly became day.

  “All I had to do,” she coughed, “was bait you in, but I wish you’d gone for an arm or leg or something—not my stomach.” Dried blood had formed on the sides of her mouth and chin. “Unfortunately for you, you can’t let go of me, and this is where one of two things happens—either I die because my magic was too weak, or you get obliterated.” A new shadowy tendril wrapped itself around her neck, choking her out. “Either way, one of us dies here,” she croaked.

  “Your ancestor put up a greater challenge than you. This is pathetic.” Lucifero drew a shadow-cloaked blade to her neck. “I’ll send you to visit him in hell!”

  Aria’s face had drained of all color; her lips had turned blue from lack of oxygen, a stark contrast to the red blood stains around her mouth. Breathing was difficult, but not impossible; she had one chance to ensure both her and Lacia’s escape.

  Lucifero was formidable, but the devil’s observation skills were subpar. While they’d been conversing, Aria had allowed Lucifero’s shadows to absorb the mana orb she’d been channeling. She could feel its power growing, but she was beginning to lose consciousness; she would be unable to control its release if she blacked out or, worse yet, died. Everything hinged on the amount of mana she’d been able to amass and her own risky decisions, allowing Lucifero to draw her in. Still, she wondered if her recklessness was for the better good or not.

  “That man,” she whispered hoarsely, “promised me a perfect world.” She tugged at the shadows around her neck, but they seemed to lack physical form, still tightening. “I— Can’t— Die— Here!” She halted the orb’s consumption of mana. Now, she had to hope it was enough. “Did you know,” she said, “that when you reverse the molecular structure of mana particles, they become like miniature bombs?”

  The devil laughed, pushing the blade into her neck. “You can’t hurt me with something as amateur as that!” Bright red blood trickled beneath the shadow blade. “Watching you struggle is incredibly amusing.”

  “Unfortunately, Lucifero,” she said, slowly, “when you reverse mana, magic particles, they begin to act a little differently. Their natural tendency is to repel anything they come into contact with, but because I reversed the structure of the orb you absorbed, the light-magic-bomb inside of you has become a—”

  The devil leapt backwards. “When did you have time to do that?!” Lucifero’s hold on Aria loosed as she dropped to the floor. “Not even your ancestor was able to pull off a white hole!”

  “I’m not my ancestor,” she wheezed. “Goodbye, for good, Lucifero.” She relinquished control of the orb, allowing it to spiral into disorder. “Zero…”

  Lucifero’s cries of agony were lost in the luster purge, the very fiber of the devil’s being extirpated by preeminence. A searing white light filled the hallway, banishing every trace of the physical world, transforming it into a blank slate of nothingness. Space and time seemed to collide as the oxygen was burned away in the subsequent colorless supernova.

  Aria watched as Lucifero’s shadows were painted white as they swirled around a fixed point, trapped within the vortex. Fringes of black lined the exterior of a pure white hole, absorbing everything within its reach.

  “Unlike its darker cousin,” Aria explained, “white holes do not bend space and time. Rather, they erase the existence of everything caught within their confines from space and time. All that will remain of you is a memory, and not a very tasteful one.”

  The devil shouted something she could only imagine was some kind of curse, but the shouts were lost in the gyre of heat and light as the white hole continued its feast. Worried she would find herself on the other end of her own creation, she slipped the sash from her dress around a nearby doorhandle, double and triple-knotting it. While it wasn’t a black hole, the white hole’s gravitational pull was still powerful, pulling in any unsecured object it could find, not just Lucifero.

  Moments later, the hole dissipated, leaving behind a steady whoosh, satisfied by the meal it had been given; Lucifero was gone. She could finally breathe, or at least kind of. Every breath hurt, using the same muscles Lucifero had torn through earlier, but she just happy to be alive. After all, she had her own unfinished business to tend to still.

  Lifting herself up, she suddenly found herself floating, weightless, almost as if someone had turned the gravity dial to low. She bounced off the walls of the hallway, still bathed in white, but the outlines of doors and light fixtures had remained visible. Now, everything was just white. She determined she was no longer in the same hallway as earlier but somewhere else entirely—somewhere between reality and a dreamscape.

  “Where am I?” she pondered aloud. “This place… It’s so quiet and peaceful. Is it because Lucifero’s gone?” Her abdomen began to ache as the adrenaline from her fight left her body. “I could use a few more doses of that,” she groaned. “Now what do I do?”

  The moment the words left her lips, the room burst into vigorous arrays of color. Aria promptly found herself standing at the entrance of a large, gothic-styled school, arced gates towering over her. She peered through the bronze slats, hands gripping the warm metal. Just beyond the gates was an erected magical barrier. Whatever the school wanted to keep hidden, they were doing a terrible job of keeping it a secret. Who, or what, were they trying to hide? Why was security seemingly so tight? The exterior of the building was nothing more than a mirage amplified by magic as it flickered like a projection.

  “Yeah, real stealthy…”

  Aria turned to walk the length of the gates, hoping to find a way in, before the soft cries of a child caught her attention. Looking down, a girl, no older than ten or eleven, stood before the same gates as her. She looked as if she was trying to comprehend the colossal size of the school; her small body was nothing more than the size of ant compared to the monumental structure. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes.

  “Hey, it’s okay! Don’t cry,” Aria comforted.

  She moved to place a hand on the girl’s shoulder, but it phased right through her. Confused, she watched as the gates opened to reveal a beautiful garden of varying hues and natural beauty: red and purple flower patches, sculpted hedges, and fruits and vegetables of decadent, juicy volumes. A large fountain offered the surrounding plant life a midday sip as fresh water splashed back into the rounded, stone basin; it was a marvelous performance of waterworks and nature’s own cycle of life.

  The girl leaned over the edge of the fountain, marveling at her own watery reflection. Aria stood back, fascinated as the girl quickly became absorbed in the marvel of her mirror image. Afraid she might fall in, Aria ran over to the edge of the fountain, hoping to pull the little girl back, but she phased straight through like some kind of ghost.

  “Alright. Enough of this,” she grumbled.

  The loud groan of a heavy, metal door pierced the peaceful serenity of the garden, swinging open on its hinges. An elderly, well-mannered gentleman appeared in the doorway as he turned in Lacia’s direction.

  “Ahh… You must be Young Lacia. We have been anticipating your arrival.”

  “That little girl is Lacia?” Aria thought to herself. “She’s so much littler, so much more… innocent. That is not the girl I’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of lugging around in the snow.”

  Lacia stared at the man for a moment before she stuck her tongue out. He chuckled, unphased by her blatant disregard for manners and proper etiquette. She returned her attention to the fountain, kicking her legs in the air as she leaned into the watery basin.

  “Innocent… Right.”

  A minute later, she’d grown bored of her reflection in the water, choosing a new plaything to capture her attention with as she locked eyes with the man. She furrowed her brow, berating him with an onslaught of questions, yet he remained unphased, answering each ignorant demand she made with dignity and poise.

  “I want my mom and dad. When can they come see me?” Lacia spat.

  A blanket of clouds briefly blotted out the sun as a light breeze whispered through the garden, rustling Lacia’s hair. The sweet-scent assortment of azaleas drifted through the garden, greeting Aria’s nose with a lovely, floral aroma. She closed her eyes, embracing the tranquility. Still, she couldn’t help but think about how much different Lacia was compared to her initial reactions.

  “Her mannerisms are so different. Even from a younger version of herself, I would’ve expected her to act at least somewhat like she does now,” Aria thought, scrutinizing Lacia’s childish nature, “but this little girl doesn’t act like the version of her I know, at all.”

  Lacia shifted the weight of the backpack on her shoulders, holding the straps with both hands. The canvas dug into her palms as she shifted her weight from foot to foot, books jostling around inside the enclosed pockets. She stood eager, waiting for an answer to her question, yet the elderly man continued to smile before finally deciding upon an appropriate answer.

  “Your parents cannot visit you right now,” he said apologetically, "but they have promised to write you letters while they are away on business.”

  Suddenly, the image of Lacia, the elderly man, and the garden dissolved into an infinite number of fine particulates. Colors whirled into a spiral, creating tunnels of images that resembled moving pictures. Were they memories? If so, whose? Moments later, the room finally settled, thrusting Aria into another picturesque scene. Though, blurry at first, the image seemed to focus like a camera lens before deciding upon what setting it wanted.

  “This is… incredible,” she said in awe. “Who knew such marvels existed? Forget how it’s even possible!”

  Lacia sat alone; a wide, oak table sprawled out before her in what was the grandest of libraries Aria had ever seen. Shelves of books lined every wall, stretching towards the ceiling, multiple stories up. The smell of leather book-bindings and paper filled her nose as the fluttering of pages and soft thump of closing hardback covers greeted her ears. Curiously, she walked over to the table where Lacia sat; several textbooks, a couple novels, and a slew of papers, pens and pencils littered the tabletop.

  Aria rotated into her field of view, noticing that Lacia was slightly older compared to the last scene, when she was just a child. Several years had clearly passed: her hair covered her neck and shoulders, a few inches had been added to her height, and her face no longer resembled that of a small child. Aria peered into her eyes—a beautiful sky-blue, but she could see the exhaustion in them.

  “Hey, new girl.”

  Aria looked up to see a trio of girls meander around the edge of the table as Lacia grew uncomfortable. Nervously, she pulled the sleeves of a red and white embroidered cardigan down, but not before Aria caught sight of the numerous bruises scattered up and down her arms.

  “What’re ya studying?” one of the girls taunted.

  “So, that’s how it is,” Aria thought, noticing Lacia’s discomfort. “What do these girls have to gain by teasing her? And, are those bruises from—”

  “I said, what are you studying?” the same girl repeated, pushing a pile of books and papers onto the floor.

  Lacia ignored the inconvenience as she frantically gathered the papers that had scattered across the library floor. Aria continued to watch closely, her full attention on the scene at hand. She couldn’t imagine a world where a girl like Lacia ever had to struggle with something as lowly as bullying, yet there was no other way to describe what she was witnessing.

  She knew she couldn’t interact with the world, but it still made her blood boil. “We don’t have to get along, but no matter how much I dislike a person, I’d never stoop so low that bullying was pleasureful.” She gagged. “What a twisted ideal.”

  A sudden blast of wind slammed the three girls square in the back, sending them flying towards the far end of the library where they flew through a series of double doors, down an adjacent hallway.

  “That was magic,” Aria realized. “And from the looks of things, I’m about to find out who cast it.”

  “Are you okay, Lacia?” a soft voice called. “I hate those girls so much, so I’ll take the heat for using unauthorized magic later.” Her voice was full of sweetness and confidence.

  “No. I’m fine,” Lacia said, shaking her head. “Thank you, Mana.”

  “She seems a lot more confident than Lacia,” Aria thought, studying her. “I feel strangely reassured by her presence, but I’ve never met this girl,” she pondered.

  Her figure was similar to that of Lacia’s, perhaps a little fuller in the chest department, but, other than her silky, black hair, notable differences were few and far between. Ivory skin glowed in the daylight that filtered in through large windows in the ceiling. Even so, Lacia’s complexion remained the most appealing of the two as Aria examined her own similar lack-of-a-tan skin tone.

  Emerald eyes reflected in Lacia’s endless blue irises, creating a turquoise sea of visual reflection, enhanced by the top-down effect of the daylight; the library had become a stage, idolizing the two girls in the glistening dust particles that floated in the air. Aria half-expected one of the two to climb onto the table in ballerina-like fashion—all that was missing was a set of classical music.

  “Let’s go get lunch. Finals week is draining, and I’m famished,” Mana emphasized. “What sounds good?”

  The scene changed again, presumably for the final time as the room shifted and the images expanded once more, but she understood what she was seeing this time; these were genuine memories, after all, though the first two were not hers. This one, however, Aria knew well: seated on the edge of a rusted, metal bridge, her feet dangled over the coursing creek below illuminated by a full moon.

  “I looked so much different… The accident really did change everything,” she said, awe-struck. “I don’t even recognize myself.” Doubt crept into her voice. “Am I doing the right thing? I’m doing this for a better world, right?”

  Her hair brushed against the midsection of her back, light brown locks brandishing their healthy shine in the pale moonlight. She leaned back, eyes pointed towards the vast array of stars overhead. Looking into the eyes of her teenage self, she couldn’t help but notice the vigor and happiness that shone in them, something she’d left behind a long time ago. Pale, hazel-blue eyes reflected the moon’s showing, a lively smile filling the face of her teenage self.

  Footsteps clamored down the bridge, muffling the sound of the creek below, struggling to transport its chilly contents downstream. An orange ball of light bobbed in the inky darkness, Lacia’s face appearing in the warm glow. She waved an arm, hoping to grab Aria’s attention while simultaneously greeting her new friend. In her other arm was a large, folded blanket; it would be far more comfortable than sitting on splintered boards. Unfortunately, as she approached, her foot caught an upturned board, stumbling the rest of the way as she nearly dove straight off the bridge and into the water.

  “What are you doing, Aria?” Lacia asked, her eyes full of light and curiosity as she regained her composure.

  “Oh, nothing,” she replied softly. “Just admiring the stars. Look how beautiful they are tonight.”

  The night air was chilly as she moved closer to Aria, settling down next to her as she wrapped the blanket around the two of them. A large grin spread across her face as looked up at the sky, taking in the beauty of the heavens above.

  Cosmic clouds of silver, blue, and purple lined the night sky, graced by the occasional streak of a shooting star—not even the luminescence of a full moon could outshine the magnitude of the stars.

  “Wow… So pretty… Do you come out here every night?” Lacia asked.

  “I remember this moment, but, at the same time, I don’t…” Aria thought. “How could I remember sitting out here on the bridge, but forget the relationship I had with Lacia entirely? I… I know trauma can manifest itself in weird ways, but this memory…”

  “Miss Lacia! There you are,” a familiar voice came. It was the elderly man from the first memory. “I’m afraid I have terrible news, dear.”

  Lacia removed her transfixed gaze on the sky, her warm smile fading to worry. “What is it, Hobson?”

  “Would you be opposed to having Miss Aria here? You may not want to be alone with the news I am about to share with you,” he asked, a tinge of concern in his voice.

  She looked at Aria, then back at Hobson. “Yes, if you would, please.” Lacia folded her hands in her lap as Hobson pulled an envelope from his coat, retrieving a small envelope from within. He cleared his throat, removing its contents—a letter.

  “Dear Lacia Amana,” he started, “Miruna High School offers its deepest condolences to you. A large earthquake struck the city your parents were on business in, but as of the date of notice in this letter, your parents have not been found. Search and rescue crews are working relentlessly to clear the debris. If you require any resources during this trying time, Miruna High School is ready to offer you any services you may desire.” He placed the letter back in the envelope. “Signed by President Miruna,” he finished.

  Lacia looked as if she was going to be sick. The warm glow of the lantern struggled to revive her now-ghostly complexion. She opened her mouth to speak, but didn’t know where to start. Aria wrapped her arms around her, hoping to console her friend with a hug.

  “Lacia… I am so sorry… If you need anything let me know, okay? I’m here for you,” Aria said, comfortingly.

  “Thank you, Aria,” she managed to croak out. “Hobson… Do you know when the earthquake happened?” she asked, shaking.

  “Two days ago. The school was just informed this afternoon,” he replied. “Allow me to offer my deepest condolences, young Miss.”

  “I, see,” she faltered. “I appreciate you letting me know and the support, Hobson.” She turned her gaze towards the wooden planks of the bridge, refusing to embrace the sky’s beauty in such a dark moment. “I… I think I’m going to go to bed. I’ll, uh, see you tomorrow, Aria,” she said solemnly. She wrapped the rest of the blanket around Aria as she got up to leave. “I’ll be okay tomorrow. I just need to process things tonight,” she smiled weakly before wandering into the night.

  Rather than relive the rest of the memory through her own perspective, Aria decided to follow Lacia back to her dorm. She was concerned, but not by her own faulty memory—not alone. Lacia’s staggers resembled that of a drunkard as Aria continued her pursuit.

  “This must have been a turning point in both of our lives. What other reason could there possibly be I’m seeing this?” she wondered aloud.

  She watched as Lacia took her shoes off, placing them by the door of her dorm room, the black, patent leather shoes glistening in the light. Flipping the lights off, she crawled into bed, pulling the covers over her head before crying herself to sleep on a tear-stained pillow.

  The white room vanished, but it seemed to desire Aria’s reactions after previewing not only Lacia’s memories but hers, as well. Colors swirled into a dazzling spiral of vivid pigmentation once more before the world returned to focus moments later; she was back in the hallway where she’d started. A dark, burnt-in shadow in the tile caught her attention first.

  “Your mistake, Lucifero, was thinking I couldn’t surpass what everyone already expected of me,” she said, breathing heavily. “I don’t deserve to call Lacia a friend, but I learned something valuable tonight. This world… isn’t all that bad. Someone very important taught me that,” she said, heels echoing down the hall as she ran towards Lacia.

  She slid onto her knees, gliding across the smooth, ceramic floor as she attempted to remove as much debris from Lacia’s body as possible: large chunks of concrete here, shards of glass there. If anything, though, the curse mark Lucifero implanted onto her neck had vanished without a trace—nothing remained of Lucifero or the devil’s sickening aura. Aria’s eyes ran the length of Lacia’s body, using what little magic she could muster to run a thorough examination of her body. Just how much of her life had Lucifero drained, and could she get it back?

  “You’re alive… Thank god,” Aria sobbed. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’m such an awful person, and I know I don't deserve your kindness, but I hope you can forgive me for everything,” she said through sobs, “for forgetting about you, for treating you like my enemy—for forgetting about us. I became so caught up in my own selfish ideals that I lost sight of who I was, and I know there’s no excuse for my behavior, but I never expected your heart and mind to be so full of serenity and amazement.” She fell over her body. “I forgot something very important, and I am so, so, so sorry.”

  Aria’s voice filled Lacia’s ears, pulling her back from the brink of death, caught in a precarious traipse between life and death. Slowly, she opened her eyes, lifting a hand to Aria’s cheek, soaked with tears and dried blood.

  “I heard everything you said back there,” Lacia said weakly, startling Aria. She took a deep, painful, breath. “You were so brave, and I’m kind of jealous I couldn’t make as grand a performance, but don’t blame yourself for what happened. I forgot, too. I’m sorry, Aria.”

  Aria pulled herself away from Lacia, giving her room to breathe. “I’m going to get us both out of here, ok? Just rest,” she said, smiling. “We’ll have time to talk later, but I’m pretty spent, myself,” she said, lifting her dress to reveal her own wounds. “If I didn’t draw Lucifero in, we would both be dead right now,” she winced, lowering the garment, “but it worked out.” She smiled again.

  Lacia nodded before following up with a question. “How did you know where to find me?” she asked hoarsely.

  “It’s an ability I have,” Aria sniffled. “I’m only able to enter dreams when I have a strong bond with the recipient which is why I was so surprised I could do it with you,” she said, admittingly. “I’m going to pull us both out of here now, ok?” Lacia nodded, hand intertwined with Aria’s. “When we get out of here, I want to catch up. Will you accept my invitation to tea this time?”

  Lacia smiled. “Only the finest tea leaves and sets. Otherwise, it’s a promise.”