...She's gone.

  Like the wind, she drifted to somewhere far beyond after leaving me with those words.

  Meaning:

  I'm being observed.

  Or, put in another manner:

  [Watch yourself, sweet Alora.]

  Giggling at mother's typical demeanour, I resumed the walk through the park.

  I originally pnned on returning to my bedroom. But mother's appearance after that random prodding in the dark, in hopes of receiving a response from her, tells me something crucial.

  I don't have to return for now, I can roam around if I want to.

  I should explore the information I received—the secrets rooted within this Domain of Light;

  And my nightmares-

  The horrifying voices-

  The utter terrors beheld within them-

  ...

  ...What was I thinking again?

  I bnked out for a moment.

  ...Oh.

  The information I received about the terrors of this Domain of Light.

  I have to try and find my way into the depths of this Domain of that being; of our father.

  The Canaries, they said...

  Shaking my head, I momentarily dashed these thoughts to the corner of my mind.

  There's no need to think too hard at this very moment when I have such little information avaible.

  Walking down the paved path, I listened to the tweeting birds whilst enjoying the pleasures of both senses, sight and smell. Maintaining this route, I eventually stumbled upon a different route.

  A dirt path that cut toward a different direction.

  Toward the direction from which I could pick up the scent of metal.

  The training grounds.

  Curious, I switched directions and stepped onto the side path. Wading through the unmaintained side path, I vowed to take the main route the next time around. Moving aside the overgrown trees and flowers without crushing them was annoying.

  I could practically imagine the sight of cnging metals and sweating men and women.

  A curiosity arose inside of me.

  I've never, not in this life or the past, picked up a weapon or trained for combat; this might be surprisingly useful...

  Sure, the fact that mother has approved of it means it won't be that useful, but usefulness can't be judged so easily once you consider the fact that I have zero experience.

  Anything is better than nothing.

  Not to mention:

  Information, I might get something out of the people there.

  I almost cackled at myself when that thought rushed through my brain; if I wanted information, I should have stayed with Esme.

  Moving my mask aside for a moment, I rubbed my face.

  But I can't stay with her.

  Then, pulling my hands off my face, I spped it-

  Crack.

  -and misaligned my hastily glued, shattered jaw.

  Wincing, I gently rubbed it while focusing on my innards. I drew my attention to the flow of Curses within and directed it to my head; my makeshift stitches aren't strong enough to handle that much pressure.

  They can handle some, but after constant usage—talking, chewing, and swallowing...

  I have to pay more attention to it.

  With that in mind, I took a moment on this worn-down path to restructure everything that had been ruined during the ritual.

  ...My vocal cords have deteriorated since then.

  ...My legs aren't in shape to do anything more than a simple walk, I can't run.

  ...My arms shouldn't hold objects heavier than a pte; if I do, I might cause irreversible damage.

  ...And my organs are being squeezed by the pressure of my broken ribs.

  Taking a seat;

  Let's deal with this first.

  ...

  "...Just shut up already."

  -----

  "Hap!"

  Tiny muscles intertwined beneath her baby flesh.

  "Hap!"

  Her feet y apart at an abnormal distance, imbanced yet oddly orderly.

  "Hap!"

  Dragging the force from her feet into her waist, then through her abdomen, arms, and finally exploding through her petite fists:

  "HAP!!!"

  Sweat dripped from her face as her trembling fingers released the ironbark sword—a wooden training sword designed precisely for her small body. As she rexed, a loosely dressed man in a white shirt and dark training pants tossed a towel onto her face.

  "Clean up."

  Heaving dense, heavy breaths, the girl thumped her chest with her tired left hand. "Commander!" Her voice was high-pitched and crky, befitting the child.

  "Stop with that and clean up already." Roughing his messy red hair up, he tossed his towel over his neck and rubbed the sweat off.

  "Commander!"

  She drew a groan from him before following the order.

  Using the towel, she ran it through her ponytail. Her crimson hair shone lustrously with the sweat as she patted her face off with shut eyes, those deeply embedded gem-cut ruby eyes winced from the odd sensation of the towel digging into her eyelids.

  Once dry, she folded the towel and pced it beside her on the dirt—the training ground would automatically pick it up and return it to the side of the field to be cleansed.

  "Feeling better, Hilda?" The man walked up to her and ruffled her hair.

  Her face melted into a smile as she nodded, "Yes, Papa!" Her fingers tapped each other as she asked, with the smile still on her face:

  "But, Papa, can I-"

  Sighing, her dad cracked a smile and said, "Yes, yes, yes... Go ahead, just don't tell Mommy on me."

  "Yes!"

  Cheering, Hilda rushed at her father's abdomen, wrapped herself around it in a hug, then tched off again. She didn't even give him a chance to appreciate the hug as she ran off out of the training grounds.

  Chuckling, the Commander gradually rubbed his face.

  His smile slowly died off.

  Then.

  He turned around.

  He faced the rest of his knights, the bastards scattered around the massive field, and:

  "Get the fuck up you zy fucks! Time to train! The st one here has to clean the trines for the next month!"

  The Commander of the Sanctified Knights returned.

  ---

  "Hmm~ Hmm~"

  Sweet humming danced from Hilda. She skipped and hopped along the outskirts of the training grounds, between bushes, flowers and drooping trees.

  Spinning in circles as she absorbed the fresh smell of flora and fauna...

  Crack.

  Her joyful dance came to a halt.

  Tilting her head, she looked in the direction of the sound.

  'It's the pce Papa said not to go...'

  A run-down dirt path led to the depths of the forest.

  Ba-dump.

  Her heart beat from the excitement, and a sense of adventure boisterously overtook all rational thought as she twisted her head side-to-side. She had to make sure no one was watching first!

  Lowering her posture, Hilda scurried across the ft gap between the training grounds and the sidepath.

  Shifting like a thief beside a tree on the side path, she pced her hand on her chest and:

  "Phew..."

  Released a sigh of relief.

  'Safe!'

  Then, her head popped out of the corner of the tree. It swivelled left and right, 'All clear.' Darting out of cover, Hilda shot into the abandoned side path.

  Once behind the cover of the messy side path, she wiped the non-existent sweat from her forehead, giggled with her hand over her mouth, and resumed her adventure down this route.

  Keeping her steps light, she cautiously moved aside the mess of trees and shrubbery.

  Crack.

  "Eek!"

  Smack!

  She spped her mouth shut after letting out that embarrassing cry. Darting her eyes left and right, she confirmed her safety and released the seal.

  Hilda was getting closer to the source.

  ...After a minute of slithering down the abandoned route-

  Crack!

  -she came to a stop.

  Kneeling behind a bush, and covered in dust, petals and more, Hilda drew upon her courage.

  'I can do it!'

  She clenched her fist, prepared herself to stand up with all her strength-!

  Paused her breath-!

  Then shrank back down.

  'I can't do it!'

  Hilda's fingers wrapped around her face, 'Ughhh~!' Her heart pounded with anticipation and a mixture of fear.

  'I can do it!'

  Again, she reignited her courage!

  ...And fizzled back into her shell.

  'I can't do it!'

  Clenching her recently trained fists, she pounded at her head in frustration, a noise that, if she was paying attention to it, she'd realise was loud enough for anyone nearby to hear.

  But she wasn't paying attention.

  And, again:

  'I can do it!'

  She shot up!

  ...And...

  Didn't fizzle down!

  'I did it!'

  Her arms shot into the air with jubition, Hilda's feet hopped and bounced on the spot as her little grin grew with each hop.

  Then.

  She moved her eyes to the thing that had been cracking.

  The thing that had led her to take this dangerous adventure through the monsters-under-her-bed-filled forest.

  Her face stiffened in a manner unusual to find in a child.

  Ruby-red eyes gazed at the source of the noise.

  She saw the person within the mess.

  She saw the white, frilly shirt.

  The dark pants.

  ...The blooming golden hair swaying in the wind.

  And the unmasked face—pale white eyes bnketed in popped blood vessels darting in all directions as incomprehensible mumblings were spat out of the creature.

  Hilda faltered backwards, and her feet-

  Crack.

  -they paused mid-air as she heard the cracking noise again.

  'Inside?'

  The noises;

  'From inside her?'

  Hilda's raised foot retracted back to its original position. And, instead of retreating, she raised it forward this time around.

  Towards the girl who was even smaller than her.

  Why, you may ask?

  Why walk towards this suspicious girl?

  This weird girl?

  This thing?

  This abnormal creature?

  ...Because within Hilda's heart, all she felt at that moment was:

  'Is she okay?'

  Worry.

  -----

  "U, Um! Excuse me!"

  A high-pitched voice shattered my concentration.

  My eyes regained their crity and shot towards the source of the noise; crimson?

  Bathed in a holy crimson colour, dressed in a pin training uniform that had been resized to fit her, was a girl. A girl who seemed to be quite a bit older than me.

  Her eyes were looking directly at me.

  At my lips, my face, my-

  My mask?

  -I flinched and spped my face with my hand under her bewildered eyes;

  I'm not wearing my mask. I took it off and forgot to put it back on.

  ...A feeling like that of the abyss swarming my innards wrapped about me; she saw this vile thing.

  I...

  I...

  I opened my lips.

  And with an empty voice;

  With a near-pleading voice;

  I begged:

  "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

  Did I beg?

  Or did I simply apologise?

  ...If I'm apologising...

  What am I apologising for?

  ...

  Oh.

  The terror.

  The horror of seeing this thing.

  A child must not see it.

  I am the Perfect Cursed Doll.

  I am Curses.

  I am Cursed.

  ...She must not see.

  ...But.

  She saw.

  My mouth stuttered;

  My mouth repeated:

  "Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry..."

  ...

  Like a broken little thing.

  ...

  No, who am I kidding?

  ...

  I am a little broken thing.

  My smile deepened.

  While all that came out:

  "Sorry."

  Were more apologies.