The You in Me: 6 - Trust.

 

CHAPTER 5

In her dream, the world was simpler. She was a teenager living at the periphery like all humans, trying to make ends meet, trying to find value in life. She was plain yet dreamed of fame every night she went to bed. Though, when the morning sun would dawn on her window the dream would dissipate and she would come to a realisation, “I am good for nothing.”

The sun was bright and its rays were scorching, burning holes through the tree leaves guarding her window pane. Cicadas were set to world domination with the sheer collective force of their chorusing. The rays were getting hotter by the second when she sat up in her bed and held her face in her hands, unable to face herself. Then, the might of a singular sunbeam melted the window glass only to penetrate inside and light her house on fire.

Flames engulfed her.

She was outside, suddenly, running and screaming for her parents.

“Ma! Papa! Where are you?”

Her vision was red and her senses hot, tall skyscrapers crumbled to dust before her. She climbed the debris, desperate in her efforts to dig into it and find something…or was it someone? In her subconscious, she knew the rest of the neighbourhood would be safe. Still, her hands clawed into the broken glass, sharp iron beams and chalky cement – where were her parents? They were nowhere to be found. She screamed and screamed her mother’s name as the flames took down her town and memories. They drew closer with every breath she took, lusting for the oxygen within her. The fire was there to burn her, but somehow, it wasn’t touching her.

“What is the cost of one kind deed?”

The sentence echoed in her head, over and over. Suddenly, there was a mirror in front of her and she couldn’t avoid facing herself this time. Seraphina Dysis. The skin was melting off her face and body, leaving a bony skeleton and piercing grey eyes bleeding in the consequence of kindness.

“If you continue like this, it’ll only bring your ruination.”

It was her mother’s voice this time, echoing through the fire. Suddenly, the flames were smoke and the smoke clustered in the sky as clouds and a new day dawned.

An electric current shot through her body and Seraphina was jolted awake.

“Ah, Dread Dysis,” the matron called, flipped through the many pages on her notepad, and scratched her name off. “You will find your items inside your drawer. The classes commence in ten so I’d recommend you make haste.” The old lady, tall and skeletal, white as bone itself, passed a smile to Seraphina and walked away to zap the student on the next bed.

The ravenette, still in the midst of deciphering dream from reality couldn’t help but gasp at the heavenly white aesthetic of the infirmary. “Am I dead?” she whispered to herself as she scrutinized her arms and legs for burn scars. She found none. She flipped her head to the bedside table and shoved her face in the mirror. It reflected a perfect glass skin, sharp scarlet eyes and shiny raven hair. Seraphina pinched her cheeks and ruffled her hair to confirm reality from illusion again.

“You’re not gone yet? You could miss your chance if someone steals your seat, Dread Dysis,” the bony matron commented, voice nasally and crisp.

Ah, yes, the Choosing Ceremony. She was going to hug Ahren…only to be tasered in the back?

Et tu, Ahren?

Seraphina shook her head in exasperation. Her trust, yet again, was too easily earned with simple acts of kindness. Maybe this was what her dream was alluding to.

She pulled the bedside drawer open and found a glossy black bag inside. Its handles were intricately carved as golden vines spreading into the bag’s fabric on the front. Her jaw dropped in awe as she carefully picked up the bag and placed it on the bed, handling it with only her index fingers and thumbs to avoid leaving any dirty fingerprints of her hands.

Seraphina searched high and low to find a zip or a buckle on the bag but to no avail. Instead, she just sat straight for a good minute and stared at its glossy finish, then realising that time was running out, she cradled the bag in her arms like a million-dollar child and jumped off the bed. She had seven minutes to navigate her way to the first class – whatever it may be, she wondered as she shoved her feet in her shoes, careful not to crush the heels.

There must be someone around, Seraphina thought, who could help her.

The ravenette circled the bed and pulled away the white curtains separating her from the person beside. The fluid motion of her hand led to reveal a face likely to help her with her demise instead. Soft dark hair ruffled out of their style and piercing golden eyes narrowed at her with obvious grudge, greeted her sight. Instantly, Seraphina pulled the curtain back in its place.

“You saw nothing,” she said and fled out of her curtain containment. She may not know where to go, but she did know not to interact with a true Astherian without magic constraints around him. No matter how appealing even as a dread.

Just as Seraphina was about to step out of the infirmary, a hand grabbed her by the shoulder and twisted her to face its owner. The said owner had the curtsey to lower his neck from the clouds to meet her eyes; pinned against the infirmary wall, caged in between Kaizer’s arms, the ravenette gulped.

“That would be impossible, I see everything. I have six eyes,” Kaizer deadpanned. On cue, the tiny iridescent crystals embedded above his brows blinked open and golden irises meandered in the small space they were provided with.

“That’s…” Seraphina sucked in a breath, “truly creepy,” she breathed out and bent under his arm to walk out of his armed-cage. Only for him to push his palm against her forehead and bring her back in, against the wall.

“I can see things before they happen,” he stated, pointing at his eyes, looking dead on the inside.

“Well then, can your eyes see how late we will be if we don’t get going right this instant?!” Seraphina exhaled, frowning at his dead-faced persistence.

“But I cannot see why I don’t want to kill you…” his words dragged to a whisper.

Seraphina raised her brows in exasperation, “Why thank you? For being a decent hero?!”

“It goes against my basic principles…” he leaned in, close enough for their noses to be inches apart.

“I t-think the professor c-can refresh that when he’s, uh, dishing out our punishment!” Seraphina pressed a hand against his chest and pushed him away.

Kaizer sucked in a sharp breath and took several steps away from her; his brows joined together in a frown, as if repulsed. Though, his words seemed to betray his actions as he whispered, “Our sounds nice.”

Blood rushed to Seraphina’s face as she kicked the infirmary door open and stormed into the hallway. “What the heck is his deal?! If he doesn’t want to kill me, he’ll jump me instead?! Can’t he just stay away?!” she fanned her face with both her hands, consequently her bag fell to the marbled floor. “Dammit!” she cursed and bent down to pick it up, instinctively, by its golden handle.

The bag clicked open upon her touch.

“Ah, you figured it out,” a dead gasp birthed itself above her ear, warm breath fanned her nape. Seraphina felt an overwhelming presence shadow over her, so close to her back that she could feel the warmth trapped in between their bodies.

“What is wrong with you?! Are you following me?” Seraphina snapped and jumped several steps away from Kaizer, lest she’d do something unreasonable as lean into the warmth. Oh, the horror!

“Being choked by a microphone wire does things to you,” he shrugged, nonchalant.

Though, before Seraphina could fathom a response, a string of violin notes resonated through the wooden walls, slowly but aggressively building up into a crescendo.

“That’d be the warning music,” Kaizer pointed his finger at the sky-high ceilings vibrating the music through the ancient castle.

“You folks surely have a thing for dramatics,” Seraphina rolled her eyes and pulled out a map from the bag. The sheer thickness of its folds indicated her probable failure, so, taking a hint, she tucked it back inside her bag and faced Kaizer.

His lower lip curved into the tiniest of smiles as he held out a hand for her to take. The music was building up faster, every note louder than the last. Hesitantly, Seraphina placed her hand over his, avoiding eye contact.

“I meant the bag; it’d have your teleportation device…but this is okay as well,” Kaizer winked. Flustered, Seraphina was about to snatch her hand away when his slender fingers held onto her hand, encasing it.

The last memory Seraphina held of someone holding her hand with such firmness was her with mother, when Seraphina was a toddler in human kindergarten and was being bullied for crying too much. She missed her home, her dolls, her story books and her puzzle pieces that she had to leave behind in order to attend school – a place feted with snobbish kids who never asked her to play with. The loneliness led to tears, the tears were an excuse for the mockeries and the bullies – a symbol of weakness which she wielding everyday until her mother would come to pick her up, at the end of the day. She’d hold her hand with firmness and reaffirmation; and she wouldn’t let go until they were home.

There was a warm attachment Seraphina associated with handholding and to share such a moment with an Astherian who should hate her mere existence was appalling.

“Let’s go,” he whispered.

Seraphina did not know where, but she followed anyway. It’s almost as if she was compelled to. One step turned into golden leap and suddenly the hallways around them phased away and she found herself at the foot of what seemed like an empty battle ground. Surprised, Seraphina turned to look for Kaizer only to find him no one behind her.

So much for trusting a person again.

The You in Me: 4 - What fun.

 

CHAPTER 3

The world has always had an unfair power dynamic, even when it was only littered with humans. There’s always someone in whose favour the scales of fate tip just a little more – enough to annoy someone less favoured. The Astherians were no different, owing to their bifurcated society subdivided by classes in pursuit of a constant power struggle. Every breath was an occasion to do better for these souls.

So, it was a surprise to Seraphina when the white aether circle erupted all over the crystal floor and their academy uniforms dissipated into plain white overalls.

“Your class and identities will remain anonymous for this competition in order to bring out fair results. Your abilities will be nullified by the crystal that surrounds you, instead, you shall be provided with human weapons to sustain!” an invisible announcer announced.

Seraphina slapped a hand against her forehead. The Astherians’ fascination with everything human was their only consistent character trait. So much for being a superior species when the crux of their existence was merely being copycats.

“Additionally, the student who chose number one will not be able to see everyone else’s ranks, for fun, of course.” The invisible announcer added.

Seraphina facepalmed, again, as the number clouds over everyone else’s head disappeared for her sight.

‘Hiding identities was a good idea but subduing abilities…’ Seraphina clenched her jaw, ‘I am nothing without the aether.’

Suddenly, the phrase ‘haste makes waste’ made so much sense to her as the number of peering eyes increased on her back. The crowd was dead still, maybe choosing their targets, baited breaths awaited the weapon stands materializing though the crystal walls. Iridescent shelves came forth, housing an array of weapons ranging from a gun, sword, saber, nun-chunk, net, scythes, spatula to a microphone.

“Before you choose a weapon, know that you can only see the chosen number of a person within the same range as yours. So, if you’ve chosen 599 as your number, then, you can only see the numbers of students 590 to 600. Though, as you move up in your ranks, your range may expand.”

As soon as the announcement ceased, whispers and gasps rose amidst the students. Seraphina looked around and sighed in relief as formerly piercing glances tore away from her head and found newer targets to pursue. This was nice. This was easier. This meant her opponent count took a staggering hit from 1199 to a mere 10! This was some good, good, fate! Even though she was standing at the very end of the room, an aeon away from the weapon shelves.

A grin snuck its way to Seraphina’s lips. Upon two and three observations, she gathered that no one in her immediate proximity was within her fighting range, hence, making it a good circle to hide behind.

Now, all she needed was a good weapon which would work well in long as well as short range combat and she’d be set to win!

“On the count of three, run for the weapons!”

Seraphina did not know why she waited for the system to stay loyal to the countdown. Maybe she was distracted by the fact that the they were attempting a jab at fairness. Yes, that should be it. But when the system went, “Zero, one, three!” Seraphina realised that her trust was easily earned.

The crowd rushed like starved cattle let loose on a fresh grass pasture. All they missed were pointy horns to impale Seraphina and lift her into the air like a sad battle prize. If it wasn’t obvious enough, Seraphina had never been the most athletic person in the lot.

But she knew a few mundane tricks like elbowing people in the sides to move forward.

It came up as an unsaid fact that the only way to reach the best weapon was through mortal combat, as the Dreads believed; or a stampede, as the Heroes figured.

Someone pulled the other in a chokehold; another threw a resounding, concussion inducing, kick to the person in front; some girl grabbed two others by their hair; screams erupted within the crystal hall, vibrating through its aether and reaching up to the upper-most section, behind which the Aetherunes Staff sat and giggled.

What fun.

Seraphina avoided a trip and pushed her hair in a bun for safety measures. She crouched low and poked her elbows out, hoping to survive the battlefield like a lucky grandma if she figured the best way to reach the gun shelf.

She winced as she saw two people in an intense punch fight right in front of the gun. Those hefty bruises would require a Class 2 Healer, at least, she thought to herself.

Suddenly, Seraphina doubled over, grappled with pain as someone punched her side. “Freaking hell, are you trying to sell me life insurance? Because I’m almost convinced,” she spat out. Her face fell into a grimace as looked up to see a smirking curly haired ravenette wriggling her wrists, steadying, for another punch.

“I dunno what that is but I’m only trying to win over rank one,” the girl replied with a click of her tongue.

She threw another punch but Seraphina blocked it with a knife-hand-strike. She lunged her foot forward to wrap it around Seraphina’s but the latter found it as an opportunity to grab a hold of the hand she struck and gain a footing. The girl tried to trip Seraphina while simultaneously attempting to choke her, but Seraphina twisted with the grip on her hand and swung her over her shoulder and onto the crystal floor.

The loud thump attracted more attention than she was comfortable with and Seraphina couldn’t help the maniacal grin on her face. Her body was moving on instinct, as if some latent muscle memory had decided to resurface in the face of flight or fight. It was way nicer than being beaten to a pulp.

Another student slung an arm around her neck and clenched it for a choke. Seraphina elbowed him, but to no momentary avail. She began clawing her nails into his arm only for him to grab them by his free hand and twist it behind her back. Choking for air, Seraphina haphazardly looked around for some kind of help. Then, she saw it. A sturdy back in proximity.

Seraphina used one leg to propel herself and another to bounce off the sturdy back, using momentum to throw her attacker off balance. She landed behind him, twisted and in a heap. She had a moment to pant and suddenly there was a gun shot.

Oh, this was fun. The best weapon was already grabbed. Seraphina couldn’t lose anymore time. She stepped over the boy and grabbed a hold of the splattered curly haired girl. She slid her hands under her armpits and began circling; as her steps grew wider, the body swayed harder and faster. Like a man-made tornado, Seraphina stormed through the crowds, parting them with partial awe and partial annoyance.

She succeeded halfway through, until someone grabbed the girl’s foot, mid-sway, and flung her off balance. Seraphina fell and the world zoomed around her; left momentarily vulnerable, a sword wielding student raised his arm, ready for slaughter, but was stopped by a bullet being shot into his armed hand.

“No attacking the defenseless. Haven’t you learnt?” the gun wielder snapped.

Seraphina’s hands grappled against the crystal, trying to hinge herself back into reality. The sword fell beside her, clanking, and a hoard of students clamored forth for the taking. Instinct drove her to kick a person’s shin and pull them down so she could stand up. She turned to face her savior but caught no glimpse of him as another body lunged at her.

Seraphina merely stepped away and missed the attack by a finger’s width. She sped towards the weapon shelf, only to be caught again, this time in the middle of already two fighting students.

“Do you even know how to use nun-chunks? Do you even know what they are, you hard boiled egg brain?” the girl shouted, throwing a punch.

“I, for one, pay attention during weapon mastery. Have been doing it for fifty years now, unlike someone who constantly simps for the professor!” the boy scowled, as he stopped the girl’s punch with one hand.

Seraphina was brought into it as the girl interlocked her fingers with the boy’s and they flung a kick each in her direction. Sandwiched, Seraphina stalled the kicks by holding onto their ankles, midway. She hurled a kick at the boy but he was swift to stop it with a mid-way grab of his own. She smirked and using his grasp as a hinge, Seraphina twisted into a jump and knocked her foot into the girl’s jaw.

She faltered, about to fall, when the boy rushed to grab her by the collar. Slanted, scowling, but conscious, the girl gained back her footing. Seraphina barely landed on her two feet when the girl was chucked at her.

“Can you see how she fights better than you? You’re disappointing, Nysa,” the boy taunted.

Nysa growled as she threw punch after punch at Seraphina, haphazardly.

“Who are you? My love rival? How dare you try to hit on my man?!” Nysa screamed as Seraphina tried to block the punches being rained down on her.

“Are you kidding me? You call that your man?!” Seraphina tsked and blocked a punch to her nose. “And you guys literally pulled me in this!” she tsked.

Without a pattern to observe, several of Nysa’s bony fists landed on Seraphina’s gut before she realised the uselessness of Nysa’s feet and kneed her groin.

“Shit,” Nysa jumped into a backflip and swung a kick at the boy’s head. “How dare you try to manipulate me, you dog, Irewin. I bet you’re trying to hit on her!”

Irewin, mostly out of shock, could not avoid the kick and spun a three-sixty on his heel. Though, before Nysa could attack again, he leaped forward, grabbed her by her hair, pulled her back and launched himself at Seraphina like a bullet.

In the blink of an eye, his hands were grabbing her by the shoulders whilst he was suspended over her head and he was able to pull her along in a semi-circle and thrashed her into the floor.

“How dare you turn my girlfriend against me, you bitch, do you like me?” he mocked her.

Seraphina groaned. “There is something wrong with your head, but, thankfully, both of ours is a Class 1 healer’s problem,” she smiled and swooped her foot to make him trip. Irewin jumped but Seraphina was already twirling into another kick as she shot up. The blow struck against his face, hard and he propelled into another person nearby.

Nysa instantly went for an underhook, a chin for a chin or some poetic revenge, but Seraphina evaded with backward bend. The punch, instead, landed under the chin of the person who was right behind Seraphina, ready to attack. He was a big, burly, giant of a man with an ill proportioned head to body ratio.

Nysa’s eyes widened at the sudden enraged scream the man let out. She instinctively reached out for Seraphina’s hand and pulled her towards herself, away from the raging madman.

“Shut the hell up!” Irewin erupted like a volcano of his own, charging at the man with a whirlwind kick. But he was blocked with that man’s knife-hand-strike and sent flying back into the girls.

“You’re almost as annoying as he is,” Nysa spat at Irewin, eyeing the raging man.

“Oh please! That’s so you when things are not going your way!” Irewin retorted.

“Can we focus on the matter at hand? Please?!” Seraphina exhaled in exasperation as she somehow found herself standing in between the two.

“Of course,” the couple looked snapped in unison.

“I’ll go first,” Irewin announced and ran before confirmation. His long legs worked like swords, urging blow after blow on the big man’s hands. Bruised enough, the big man kneed him in the gut and shot Irewin high into the ceiling.

Unconcerned, Nysa instantly went for his gut with a flurry of her own punches. The big man doubled over, momentarily, and Seraphina saw it as an opportunity to lunge forward. She grabbed his arm and used Nysa’s back as a stepping stool to snake her way onto the big man’s shoulders. She wrapped her thighs around his thick neck and elbowed his nape with vigor.

The big man shook himself, violently, to dislodge Seraphina but Nysa’s punches kept him occupied momentarily. Though, he instantly figured to throw himself on his back in order to crush Seraphina instead.

As he toppled backwards, Nysa dashed as several jumps back, her jaw hung in awe with what she was about to witness – probably a skull being cracked open in front of her very own eyes.

Seraphina’s breath hitched, awaiting her demise. ‘A hard crash against this crystal floor and being buried under the size of this giant man’s sweaty back…what a lame way to die. Mother would be so asham—Oh heaven, I cannot die! I still need to put away that skeleton in my bathtub!’ she thought to herself.

Before Seraphina could attack or even break her skull, someone else had already taken action and lodged themselves in between the floor and that hulk of a man. Seraphina slipped onto the floor, on her own accord, chest heaving as she saw a girl grinning menacingly at her. Her ruby hair covered her face for she was leaning slightly forward, her elbow stuck right against the big man’s spine.

“How much do you consider your life’s worth?” the girl wheezed, raised her head and pushed the big man to fall face-first into the crystal floor, “Because I just saved yours.”

“Thank you,” is all Seraphina could say. Her savior was beautiful; her eyes, big and glimmering like the ocean under the summer sun and the soft curves of her nose, lips and cheeks made it impossible to believe that she could survive even the sight of blood. Over her arched brows were embedded two dark crystals, at the ends, making Seraphina gasp in shock.

That girl was a true Astherian. One who had mastered Two Ancient Runes which would fulfil her purpose. A true S-Class aetherfolk.

Seraphina was saved twice even before she could reach the weapon stand.

The weapon stand.

Ah.

Seraphina looked around as soon as she realised the silence around her, only to witness all the student body passed out on the crystal floor. The only ones standing were the redhead, Nysa, Irewin limping and lodged on Nysa’s shoulder and him.

The You in Me: 3 - Casual Murder.

 

CHAPTER 2

 

The world was invaded three centuries ago by an ancient species known as Astherians. While the rich scrambled away in their bunkers, the poor fought against their chances and perished. The Astherians possessed Aether, an amalgamation of pure cosmic and chaos spirit which gave them abilities beyond human comprehension. Though, when the balance was disrupted – they began finding new lands in hopes to repopulate.

Earth happened to be one of them.

As resources began depleting by year 90 after the invasion, humans were forced out of their bunkers and settled on the ground as a lower grade species. The once billionaires were stripped off their power, technology and currency, only to be settled in subordination to Astherians.

The two factions did not cross paths, unless need be, for nothing good ever comes out of it. They may share common public spaces—like the woman walking down the sidewalk with her child, holding hands and swinging their arms – but there was no innate need of interaction that boiled over as Seraphina walked past them.

She walked past tens of them, on her way to the academy, eyeing an odd sense of peace that exuded through their persona. Kids playing in a park and crying over a ball that dropped into a drain; teenagers racing down roads with panic in their eyes but smiles on their faces; elderly gentlemen loitering around electric poles while exercising loudly. Theirs was a small community and those who understood how perishable their existences were—worked hard to make every moment count.

The humans, or what Astherians liked to call them – Imanians – were far removed from the hub of Asteria by a dense fog and a miles long winding road down a rocky hill. Seraphina, on the other hand, trekked down with great ease. The issue of her convoluted existence allowed her to co-exist between the two worlds, though, not by choice.

The Aetherunes Academy held an ominous presence to itself. On the outside, it looked sharp and pointy, like a naturally occurring crystal pushed out of the Earth. Its height extended into the fog and what surrounded it was lush vastness of uncharacteristic green.

As Seraphina passed through the metal gates and onto the cobbled walkway into the Aetherunes Academy a ginormous blazing hammer struck against her side and propelled her a few feet into air, something akin to an air-filled balloon being let go.

The impact thrusted her into the Lake Celestia, beside the cobbled walkway, and the perfectly aimed blow had Seraphina’s jarred mouth collecting about eight shimmering Celes fishes in a go.

“And that’s a goal!” someone hollered.

“Been catching up on human sports?” another asked.

“This should be made into an Aetherian Sport; shooting the Dreads for turds and giggles.”

A group of white and gold clad girls, Class A: Heroes, clustered around the lake’s edge and chuckled amongst themselves as Seraphina shook her head and spat the celes back into the lake. She resurfaced out of the starry lake and grinned widely.

“Made me fly, you did,” Seraphina said, “’twas a long-term dream of mine.”

“Ha, she lives!” A silver haired girl clapped. She was slender and tall with eyes as bright as emeralds and a stance which could only be described as prideful. She raised her right hand and over a green aether circle and materialised the gigantic blazing red hammer.

“Tragic, really,” Seraphina tsked as she swam closer to the edge. She placed her hands on the ground to lift herself up when a jet of water shot her into the sky. She smiled, regained her composure mid-air, and spotted the water manipulator. “Y’all really make life tough on yourselves,” Seraphina tsked, and suddenly, all water droplets around her tinged a grimy black under the influence of a red aether circle. A maniacal grin encased Seraphina’s lips as the dark droplets lost their gravity-induced roundness, instead morphing into a needle-like point as they changed their paths and aimed at the girls on the ground.

The sheer force with which each droplet sped towards its master and their allies had them scrambling for defense. The droplets which did not hit people, pierced holes into the ground, whilst the rest broke through the heroes’ defenses and laid them bleeding onto the greenery. The hammer girl managed to stand for two whole seconds before a droplet pierced through her blazing weapon and impaled her forehead.

She dropped to the ground, though easier than Seraphina did. As all aether wielders succumbed to their ill-chosen fate, the aether constant ceased around the cursed one and she fell, quite compliant to gravity, with a loud crack on the ground, splat beside the white clad heroes.

A loud crack resonated in the stillness of her surroundings.

Seraphina groaned, plopped against the ground and felt all feeling leave her legs after the sharp pain subsided.

“Whatever happened to ‘Good Mornings’ and ‘Good Days’,” she spat, nasally. Kindness was out of bounds within Aetherunes Academy, really; every student was instinctively propelled to crush another, be it in-class or intra-class, for reasons that were lost to Seraphina.

The ravenette used her arms to drag her limped lower-body on the ground, closer to the hammer girl, so she could hasten the healing process. Broken bones would take a Class: S healer, which weren’t only hard to find but absolutely impossible to convince. Unless one had a special notice from the Headmistress.

And Seraphina would willingly wish for eternal death over the official process of filling out forms to get a notice.  

Sucking a soul was much easier and came with way less consequences.

So, Seraphina did just that as she crawled over hammer girl’s now cold body and placed her hand over the chest. Five black aether circles appeared all over her arm as she sucked out the girl’s aether. Feeling and pain returned to her lower body as the hammer girl’s flesh began disappearing along with her aether.

A memory popped in Seraphina’s head.

“Melody, why did you choose to manifest a weapon?” an old, wrinkly, woman asked a toddler who was sitting on a bench, swinging her feet to-and-fro.

“So that I can crush all your problems, grandma,” the little girl replied with a bright smile.

“Oh?” the old woman chuckled, “My melody is so small but so aware of my problems?”

“Of course!” the girl nodded, “Those evil men who stole our land and everything from us, made you cry, made mum go away, made dad so sad…all those are problems and I’m going to crush them!”

“Oh, my sweetest melody, you have a noble heart. You’ll be a great hero one day,” the old lady hugged the child.

The memory dissipated, though not before leaving yet another dead weight on Seraphina’s not-so-dead heart. Her eyes took in Melody’s darkened skeleton underneath her as she stood up. “Noble indeed,” she tsked and stretched her legs, “Woah, I feel like a person again!”

 

Seraphina clapped and skipped away from the bleeding students, humming a human tune unbeknownst to all around her. She made it inside the Academy successfully, this time around, while only bearing witness to two fights at the door – both of which were being led by Hero Kaizer Malvern, simultaneously – one of which had a Dread running around, on fire, while the other had a Dread doing squats while holding his ears. Seraphina slipped in silently while the rest of the Hero crowd was cheering over the spectacle.

Though, she was a mere ten steps inside the grand academy when her path was hindered by the very inexcusable and overwhelming presence of Headmistress Valarie Malvaren. She was tall today, white skinned and blonde with a big hairdo as though an eighteenth-century Lady would look in a modern-day pantsuit. Her flourishing cape dragged behind her high heeled boots as she made her way towards Seraphina.

“Fancy seeing you so early in the morning,” the ravenette pointed at the ceiling, as if it were the sky indicating morning.

“Well, I saw a sharp decline in my Hero count even before the first class and within…” the headmistress raised her wrist to check the time in her floral watch, “well, less than a minute and thirty seconds. Impressive, really, I thought after I was done being concerned.”

Seraphina smiled, “Oh, then I wouldn’t hold you up any longe—” her sentence trailed off as Headmistress Valerie wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began guiding her towards the office.

“I did make another observation, you see, there were five inconveniences: just the number of sins you need to commit in a day to stay afloat,” Valarie informed.

“Wow, you’re so wise,” Seraphina sighed out a dry reply.

“Of course, why else would they choose me as the Headmistress?” Valerie chuckled as they reached the rustic and intricately carved office door. It opened on its own accord, recognizing Valarie as its owner, and the duo stepped inside.

The office was dark yet sparkly, if one had to summarise it in two words; as if Valarie was hoarding ancient treasure in the dark to decorate her lair.

“Did you find him?” the Headmistress asked as she took her bejeweled seat and gestured Seraphina to take one in front.

“I do not really hail from a…detective background?” she tried to put her thoughts into words, “It is all very new to me.”

“Your eyes are wandering,” Valarie pointed out, “You’ve been procrastinating, haven’t you?”

“What! No…!” Seraphina raised her arms and crossed them in an X. “I’ve been trying, well, it’d be much easier if your heroes weren’t frequently hunting me down! You should either assign me a healer or keep your students in check!”

“It is in their aether to hunt the dreads, Seraphina, that is why I insist you find him fast.”

Seraphina slumped in her chair and sprawled herself comfortably. “I was brushing my teeth in the morning, you know, the most personal time one has in the morning and I was stabbed in the back! Not just stabbed, I saw the thing poke out through my front,” she used her fingers to draw imaginary lines signifying the sword’s blade. “I had to push it through me, like, I felt it travel through my rib cage and intestines,” Seraphina grimaced.

“I’ll ask Kaizer to keep them in check,” Valarie rolled her eyes at Seraphina’s dramatic explanation.

“Good! Thank you!”

“Your mortal body can sustain only so much, Seraphina, until you either perish or become truly cursed. You and I, we both know that the latter is off possibilities because you cannot harness the power he has. Channeling only one percent of it has been taking a toll on your body,” Valarie knocked the table mirror to flip around and face Seraphina.

The young girl glimpsed her appearance in the mirror. Though, the porcelain skin, the straight raven hair and the piercing scarlet eyes were no way a downgrade as Headmistress Valarie was making them out to be. She used to be someone with oily, pimply skin, wild curls and dead grey eyes which could ward off any human interaction from a mile away. It was in no way a confidence boost to what she gained after the incident.

“I wouldn’t call it a toll, per say,” Seraphina ran a hand through her silken hair.

“Well then, wait till you start growing scales, fangs and wings,” Valarie passed a sarcastic smile.

Seraphina pursed her lips momentarily, then to soothe the headmistress’ soul, she said, “I’ll keep on searching.”

“Why, thank you!” Valarie breathed in exasperation. She got up and floated to a bedazzled cupboard behind the chair. “I don’t get how Astherians are still lousy on accepting the concept of cupboards. I mean, why would you want to strain your aether when you can just put stuff away like this,” she tsked and took out an intricate wooden box, “Keep this. Remember to not overstep because each Astherian has a destiny to accomplish. Rather than leaving our blood to bleed dry, store your inconveniences in here.”

Seraphina took the box which was offered to her and opened it to find it brimming with small, shiny, pearls.

“They’re strong enough to store up till Class C without harm. As for Classes B and above, you’ll just have to bring their Aether levels down to a C.”

“You’re so helpful,” Seraphina forced a quick smile, “I must go for my classes now. Apparently, they’re a lottery system and I’d hate to choose last.”

“Yeah, three centuries in and we’re still fascinated by the way humans did things.” Valarie smiled as Seraphina curtsied and left.

The Choosing Ceremony wasn’t merely a lotto system, but in a fashion unique to the Vikings, Barbarians and the Astherians – it was also a test of power. As Seraphina stood in hall built out of pure crystal, a small, furry, winged creature floated atop their heads in announcement, “You can pick an order number by yourself, yes, the smaller the number – the earlier you go and the more contenders you shall face. Of course, the top hundred will be allotted the best classes along with the best professors, best resources and best subjects! Now, without further ado, pick a number!” the tiny, fuzzy, creature burst into confetti after the announcement was made.

Suddenly, random numbers appeared on top of everyone’s heads and they kept on shuffling until their owner would decide on one. The animosity in the room was off the charts as Heroes and Dreads stood side by side, divided by their instincts and uniforms. Even though it was her first day, Seraphina did not feel alienated for in this society, no one was one’s own.

Seraphina remembered asking Headmistress Valarie as to what it meant to be a Dread.

“Hm, I’m not sure but they were characterised by this desire to rule the world… do you have it?”

“I don’t know but the idea doesn’t seem half as bad,” Seraphina replied with a shrug.

“Well then you’re almost eighty percent a dread!” Headmistress Valarie patted her back.

An innate desire to win, rule and be number one; that is what characterised aether’s most evil folks? Why, that sounds awfully similar to humankind.

So, without a doubt, Seraphina smiled and the number 1 appeared on top of her head – having not only 599 Dreads in competition but also 600 ruthless Heroes who would give their soul to rid the world off her.

The You in Me: 2 - A New World.

 

C H A P T E R   O N E

“Seraphina! Wake up or you will be late! If you’re late, you’ll never get a good education. If education eludes you, you’ll never get a job! Joblessness will make you ugly and take you off the marriage mart! If you’re jobless and a maiden—well, then, that is a nutshell for ruination! And ruination is neither beautiful nor sustainable in the long run! So, WAKE UP. RIGHT THIS INSTANT.”

Wake up, Seraphina did; rising like a corpse from a grave, clawing its way out of the dirt it was buried in. She threw away her blankets and stood up on her two feet like the independent teenager she was. Her arms stretched out and a yawn escaped her lips before she could call out, “I’m up, mother, all awake and avoiding ruination!”

With a doozy sight, she swayed left and right as she wobbled her way into the bathroom and felt up the blue marbled walls for the toothbrush stand. Her fingers met the familiar grooves of her toothbrush and her half-opened eyes could see a red blob in her hand, through the mirror in front, as she directed the thing under the tap. The stream of water broke into a million droplets upon meeting her coarse toothbrush bristles. She applied the toothpaste on it and shoved it into her mouth.

Birds chirped outside her bathroom window, probably communicating their daily schedule to the morning sun. The wind seemed to add a few inputs of her own as it made the tree leaves rustle in communication.

A lazy smile smeared itself on her mouth as a green trail of toothpaste foam ran down the side of her lips and onto her chin.

Mornings were supposed to be silent and beautiful like this. Easy and hopeful.

She forced her eyes open to rinse off her mouth only to spot a person in the mirror, standing right behind her. Masked, clothed in academy armour, weapon at the ready.

He swung his sword before Seraphina could even fathom a thought and it impaled her back. Swiftly. Mercilessly. Her body jerked forward and toothpaste burst out of her mouth along with blood. The mint-blood concoction smeared itself on the mirror as she witnessed her white tee-shirt grow a red blob stain, spreading by the second.

Seraphina, impaled like a kebab, groaned.

“Mother is gonna be so mad about this,” she whispered, rather hoarsely to the man in the mirror. Her hands wrapped around the sharp blade in an attempt to push the sword out through her back. She succeeded in a jiffy.

“You seemed to have dropped this, I believe,” she held the sword in her bloody hands and turned to face the man.

His teeth chattered in the confines of his clenched jaw, betraying the otherwise stoicism of his stance.

“You wound me, quite literally,” Seraphina spat, shoving the sword in the young hero’s chest. He hadn’t bothered to keep his identity a secret so his white and gold academy uniform betrayed the anonymity. The golden badge on his breast pocket gleamed under the window’s sunlight, reading: CLASS 1.

“Tsk.” As the bloody sword hit his chest, his wits returned to him. The boy swung a punch to her right. Seraphina’s scarlet eyes tinged gold for a second, as she predicted his move, and swung a knife-hand-strike to his right. The blow pierced through his golden cuff and struck right against his bone.

CRACK.

“That’s gotta need a Class B healer, poor soul,” Seraphina feigned concern as she coughed out more blood.

“Or I’ll just consume you,” the boy rasped and swung his sword-wielding left hand with the aim of slicing her neck off. Azure aether circles enveloped the blade of his sword, offering him a power-up.

Seraphina’s eyes twinkled.

Her toothbrush encircled with a black whirlwind of its size met the sword’s blade before her neck. The boy ground his teeth and forced the blade forward but the toothbrush sliced through it with ease; as the horror of his hard-earned sword being bested by a mere toothbrush settled into his heart, Seraphina threw a jab under his chin.

He fell to the tiled floor along with his sword blades thumping beside each other in a pool of her blood.

“I’d leave you alive,” Seraphina smiled, “But if I don’t do a few bad things in a day… I’ll perish.” She stabbed her fingers through his armour and the black aether circle around them allowed them to pierce through his flesh and bones. They met the softness of his heart and felt it beating erratically as her fingers wrapped around it. Five layers of aether circles appeared around her arm; his chest glowed in a faint golden light which when spiraled around her arm, turned darker with every aether circle they hit.

The darkest being right over her own heart as she consumed his aether and left the once youthful boy as a corpse of his ill made decisions.

A memory erupted in her head; it was of the boy when he was young, blonde hair swaying like the golden wheat he was surrounded with. His blue eyes dazzled with ambition under the scorching sun as he swung his sword, over and over, at the scarecrow.

“Come eat lunch, sweetie!” a woman’s voice called him.

“Right after I’m done! When I’m in the academy, you’ll have to eat all the meals by yourself,” the boy replied with a shout. A smile brandished his face.

“Of course, my son, of course. You’ll be a great hero one day but not unless you eat your meals!”

The boy gasped in realisation and dropped his sword, his footsteps raced away as the memory did from Seraphina’s head. She detached her hand from his slowly dissolving body and the aether circles disappeared.

“Ach,” she spat the mint-blood concoction again and stood up. She pulled up her tee-shirt to check the bloody gash on her torso. It seemed to be closing up at a good enough pace. Satisfied, Seraphina passed the dead guy one last glance before turning her back to him. “Making me feel bad for nothing so early in the morning, you are,” she whispered as she washed her bloody hand in the sink.

His darkened skeleton laid cold and brazen by her feet as Seraphina whined, “And what am I supposed to do with this mess?! Mum will have my life!” she grimaced at the mirror in front of her and the blood underneath her feet. She splashed water on the soiled mirror and used her bare hands to wipe it down and clean it up.

“Such an inconvenience,” she tsked. Seraphina bent over to pick the skeleton by its head and winced. Her blood trailed down its bones, dripping back onto the floor, which made her stomp twice in annoyance.

“Sera! Are you ready yet? The breakfast is getting cold! If you eat cold breakfast, you’ll end up not liking it! If you do not like breakfast, you’ll start skipping it! Breakfast is the most important meal of the day and if you skip it, you will grow weaker! If you grow weak on the inside, you’ll be prone to diseases and get sick a lot! Which would mean big chunks of medicines until the day you die!”

Her mother’s voice came closer with every syllable she uttered and Seraphina’s heart thundered faster with every footstep drawing closer.

She shoved the skeleton in her bathtub and drew the curtain. She stripped off her bloodied clothes and threw them onto the floor to absorb some blood or maybe use them as a mop to wipe the floor clean.

A chill ran down her spine as she splashed water on the bloodstains around her stomach and legs, clad only in her underwear. It didn’t seem to work.

“I am coming, mum, my- uh, my drain is clogged! Um, just a second!”

She twisted her shower knob and stood underneath it with an open mouth, gargling and showering at the same time.

“You’re still showering?! Girl, I-, oh my, did you not even iron your uniform? Seraphina! An un-ironed uniform means you’re disrespecting yourself and the authorities! I raised you better than this! Oh, my goodness, she’s eighteen and I’m still doing everything for her!”

Wet and relatively cleaner, Seraphina poked her wet head out of the bathroom door and grinned. “That’s why you’re the best mum and I love you,” she winked as her mother rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Not a braincell in sight around here!” her short mother scoffed, swung the uniform over her shoulder and stomped out of her daughter’s room.

Seraphina heaved a sigh of relief.

The running water had helped the blood drain faster and the gash over her stomach seemed to have healed itself.

“Almost traumatised my mother today, I did,” Seraphina whispered as she picked up the broken sword and stashed it along with the skeleton.

After a quick shower and lazy mirror wipe, she paraded into her room and dressed into her well-ironed, curtsy mother, black and gold academy uniform. The fabric felt soft to touch but when clad, it doubled up as a basic need armour.

Seraphina’s mother had no idea of who she was or what her academy truly entailed of and she would like to keep it that way. To her mother, Seraphina was an ordinary eighteen-year-old trying to graduate from a private academy with good grades in order to have sustainable future options which was professional for motherlingo: good marriage, stable income and a good number of babies to help with increasing the human population.

Seraphina walked up to the full-length mirror beside her wardrobe and adjusted the black ribbon around her neck for it happened to be covering the golden badge on her breast-pocket, which read: Aetherunes, CLASS S.

The Aetherunes Academy was a secluded dream for common folk and a hellscape for the gifted. Every normal human wanted to be part of the world’s most elite circle but every soul with aether running through their bloodstream knew that it was not a place capable enough to sustain. Though forced by their own circumstances, humanity constantly strived to be better in secrecy.

“Ah, you look so neat!” Lisbeth, commented as her daughter walked down the stairs. Her slender fingers tapped against each other in a show of excitement, “Come along, have your breakfast. Where’s your bag? I do not see a bag! Seraphina, do you not know what happens to kids who do not bring their books and notebooks! Education eludes them! you cannot be that person, now, can you? Only if you want to end up jobless, ugly and a maiden! No one wants that, do they now? So, BRING YOUR BAG RIGHT THIS INSTANT!”

“Geez, I haven’t been issued the new term syllabus, mum, they’ll give it to me today. I don’t need a bag to go empty handed, right?” Seraphina explained as she took a seat in front of a table laden with food. Her stomach grumbled and the insatiable appetite of a demon resurfaced.

Only for it to be hindered by her mother’s whack on her head.

“Ouch! That hurt!” cried the girl (who was stabbed minutes prior and did not bat an eye lash) almost teary eyed as the boiled egg slipped out of her grip and onto the table.

“Did you wash your hands? Of course you did not! You know what happens to dirty kids, don’t you? Sickness. Medicines. Death! And where do you plan on keeping your lunchbox?! Nu-uh, no, don’t you make that face! Of course you are taking a lunchbox! Do you want to perish without lunch? Don’t you know what happens to kids who do not eat? Sickness. Medicines. Death!”

Her enunciation of, ‘Sickness, medicines and death,’ was as dramatic as fifth graders acting out the mutual death scene of Romeo and Juliet.

“Of course not, I wanna live with mum for a long, long, time,” Seraphina smiled and wrapped her hands around her mother’s waist. It felt squishy and comfortable as she rubbed her cheek against her mother’s belly.

“You’re eighteen and you act like a toddler, tsk, find your bag and keep a lunchbox! Make haste!”

“Yes, mum!” Seraphina saluted and ran back upstairs. Hopefully, she wouldn’t be bullied on her first day.

 

The Lucielle Box - 2 : The Infamous Dungeon !

CHAPTER 1

The sudden brightness made her face squirm and eyes crinkle in response. A hand reached into the box, grabbed her by her hair and pulled her onto the ground. A flurry of laughter rose overhead. With her face pressed onto the stone-cold floor, reality began seeping in her foggy brain. Her vision cleared up and she spotted two pairs of leather boots in immediate sight.

“Not a fighter, eh?” one of the men said.

She felt a hand on her foot, grasping, as it dragged her across the floor and manhandled her onto a wooden chair.

“Change them ropes to thicker ones,” another man said.

“Let me look at that face first…kekekekeke.”

A finger and a thumb urged her face up by her chin and forced her look at the men surrounding her. There were four of them, leering in her face, exhaling odours which felt better to anonymously read off the pages of a book than experience in one’s breath. Their faces were scarred by time and war, darkened by the sun and an assumable abhorrence towards water. Thick bushy hair left no pore unmarked on their faces, in hopes of asserting dominance probably. Their beefy builds left no room for a violent retaliation unless she wished her head to be smashed open, in one blow, and end the nightmare before it would begin.

“She a gud one, I tell ye.”

The strange man’s hands grabbed her by the shoulders.

The girl sucked in a breath from that pungent, murky, damp, air.

“Show ‘em heaven, lass, eh.”

“Mee too, mee too!”

As soon as the man neared her face with puckered lips hidden amidst the bushy mouth of his, the girl began coughing. Violently. Her neck jerked forward but her spit reached flung forward, reaching left, right and centre; she coughed and coughed, distancing the men from her sickly, writhing body.

The dungeon was large, dark and cold, encased by a stone floor and stone walls, lit up by fire torches and lanterns. The men backed up into a corner, eyeing their captive with much disgust as her body contoured into different angles with no breaks in the cough-fest.

“Is she dyin’?”

“Last storm before the final calm?”

Third of them wiped his spit splattered face by his sleeve.

“Or is she acting?”

The fourth man scowled forward and charged his hand for a resounding slap but the momentum of his bulky hand reaching her face was slower than the spout of blood exiting her mouth and making him recoil in defense.

Too late though, for his open mouth and bushy face were now covered in blood. Certainly not a new sight but surely a sudden one for all of them.

“Argh! You disgusting country lass!!” the man scowled.

“Boss!”

“Bossman!”

“Sire!”

His three underlings ran up to his side, armed with their sleeves to instantly wipe clean their superior’s face. Though, their loyalty lasted only until they heard the words being hoarsely let out:

“I … h-have…tub-tuberculosis, ARCKHAHKKKHKHKHAAKHAM KHA KHA KHA, co-con-con-ARKHAKHAKHAKHAKHA-contagious.”

Heaven, Earth and everything in between knew the woes of a long-term slow death exceeded that of being shot by a bullet. So, in respect for their future, all the men hastily retreated to – what one could easily assume – clean themselves up.

The girl spat the last of blood in her mouth and fell back into the chair with an audible sigh of relief. Her tongue dangled out to let it remain open for some cold air to seep in and caress the open gash inside her mouth. She had bitten on her left cheek to make the violent coughs look more convincing but heaven knew it hurt like hell.

‘Well, I survived that thanks to watching so many dramas…but for how long?’ she thought as she looked around the dungeon. Behind her was a prison cell against which stood the box she was brought in. On the farther right was an empty wooden table pressed against the wall and directly opposite to it was a suit of armour.

An idea struck in her head as she dropped onto her knees, from the chair, and seethed as a sharp jolt of pain shot through her legs. The ground was rough and sharp against her knees but she was in no situation of whining about the ill upkeep of a castle dungeon – even though her opinion should have been highly valuable as a prisoner.

The girl crawled and managed to reach the suit of armour at the expense of her kneecaps and threw herself onto the metal, sideways, making it crash to the floor with a resounding THUD! It broke its shape as the head rolled off one direction and the arms in another.

She cringed at sheer loudness of her actions and could only hope no one heard. Amidst the dismantled parts, she spotted the armour’s sword laying near the prison cell. She crawled her way to it, gasping in delight as the slightly unsheathed blade, at the rear, glistened under the torchlights. She pressed the sheath under her foot and struggled to pull the sword out by its hilt. Though, as she stretched her body to pull harder, the sheath slid inside the prison cell emanating a loud drag while the hilt remained in her hand.

Praying to the plot gods, she began attempting to cut open the ropes on her hands.

“Ah, a dungeon escape?”

The sudden words jolted her in the direction of the voice. She spotted a blurred presence in the prison, dragging the sheath as he walked forward, from the depths of the cell, into the light.

Her hands began moving faster on the blade.

His eyes caught the glow of the torchlight as stood beyond the bars, looking down on her with much fascination. The buttons on his coat jacket glistened crimson and it was giveaway enough for her to know that he wasn’t an ordinary prisoner.

He seemed to have spotted the fast hand movement behind her back and could not help but snicker the words, “The Isdarien Dungeon is infamous for being an inescapable labyrinth, don’t you know?”

“I know,” she replied, monotonous, tongue poking out the side of her mouth to let the cold air soothe her burning gash.

“How…?” he frowned.

“Did you not say it is infamous?” she scoffed.

“I was being enigmatic,” he scoffed back, “Of course no one knows.”

She frowned.

“Well, now I know,” she shrugged.

“So, don’t you consider your ardent efforts at escaping to be futile?” he asked, eyes narrowed and neck craning to try and get a good view of her awkwardly rubbing the fraying rope to the sword’s blade.

“I don’t,” she replied, nonchalant.

“Damn, are you a regular?”

“What are you in for?”

A charming laugh resonated off the dungeon walls, intriguing enough for her to look up, momentarily. Curly dark hair covered his forehead but did not hide the genuine crinkle of his sharp eyes.

“I disrespected the big old man,” he replied, a boxy smile encasing his mouth.

“Pfffft, God?” she sputtered and looked away, afraid he’d catch her staring (though, in her current circumstances, there was much else she should have prioritised on her ‘scares-me-right-now’ list.)

“No,” he scoffed, “Grandpa.”

“What’d you do?” she asked, unknown to the fact that a smile was sneaking its way onto her lips.

“I laughed at his thirteenth wedding,” his reply was hushed like a conspiracy.

The rope tore apart and the sword jingled against the floor, once again.

“A punishable offence,” she uttered hoarsely as a realisation set in.

He is a prince.

With her hands free, she rotated her shoulders and wrists to feel the new-found-ease in her limbs. Her brain pondered over the princes’ lore in the book but all she could recall was how each died at the hands of Leonora.

“I am not a regular,” she answered as she picked up the sword and wedged it in between the ropes of her feet, “I was abducted.”

There was a moment of silence as the slow drag of the sword blade tried to penetrate into the thick rope of her feet.

“So…how do you know about the dungeon?” he asked, audibly confused.

“I know about a lot of things,” she shrugged in reply.

“Oh!” he neared the bars and grabbed one each in hand as he asked, “Do you know something about me?”

As she looked up, she found a wide pair of blazing eyes staring back into hers. An upturned smile graced her lips, out of sheer fascination, and she replied, “Well, what I know about us is that if I die here today, then,” she leaned closer to the prison bars and crouched down to be in his line of sight, “An upcoming war will wipe out the entire Royal family in five years.”

She held up hand, wiggling the five fingers, in his face.

Maybe it was because he was crouched, away from the torchlight, but his face darkened.

She picked up the sword to repeat her chore when her breath hitched.

Distant thuds of footsteps made her hand movements hasty and imprecise.

“Someone’s coming,” the prisoner said.

“I can hear it,” she struggled to move the sword faster but as the footsteps closed in, her heart thundered harder in her ears. Sweat overtook her hands as she tried to grasp the sword by the hilt to make it work faster but a sudden coagulation in her throat compelled her to begin cough. ‘Ah! How did I forget…Runa was a genuinely terminally sick person…’ she thought.

Footsteps closed in, the wooden door was pulled open, she continued coughing violently until blood oozed from her throat and splattered all over the pink dress she was wearing. Her vision darkened as she felt a hand jerk her head by her hair.

Then, darkness consumed her into a pool of her own expulsion.