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 You in Me: 1 - The choice in between being kind or looking away.

 

P R O L O U G E

“We’re all made of stardust, what makes them better than us?” Seraphina asked as she followed her mother’s trail, diligently avoiding any missteps on the path into wilderness.

“If every human sat back to ponder on that, we would be even more jobless than we already are,” Lisbeth replied as she hiked higher up the mountain, combating thickets with tender hands and observant eyes.

“I wouldn’t say we’re all that jobless,” Seraphina huffed, a frown easing onto her brows. The lush overgrowth darkened their paths ahead and the only light soothing their insecurity was the lantern in Lisbeth’s hand, swinging to-and-fro.

“That’s because humans as a species are inherently stubborn and would never concede their pride. Their territory, they would, but not the pride.”

“Ha!” Seraphina exclaimed, avoiding the outgrown roots with a small skip in her step, “That’s why we are here, in the thick of the night, because you are too prideful to accept Mr. Henrick’s accusations!” a cheeky smile graced her face as her mother’s arrogant shoulders slumped just enough to prove her point.

“We are here to help old Mr. Henrick. Not because he offended me with the baseless accusations of feeding him the wrong medicine. He’s a patient and so, we must be patient with him. If humans abandon their patience and kindness, we’re no better than those who invaded us. Remember, haste makes waste.”

Lisbeth crouched under a low hanging branch and turned to hold out a hand for her daughter. Under the fluorescent glow of the lantern, her brown locks blazed gold. Seraphina rolled her eyes at her mother’s holier-than-thou smile but held onto Lisbeth’s hand as she crouched under the branch and was swiftly pulled to the other side.

“Look at you, still being so prideful,” Seraphina scrunched her nose with the reply.

Lisbeth let go of her daughter’s hand as they neared the hill-top. Her steps grew smaller and gentler as she placed them precisely over flat stones or muddy patches lining their path, “Be careful of the Panicum maximum,” she pointed at the guinea grass, “There’s already limited grazing pastures. No need for us to ruin more.”

“Yes, yes, yes, I always am,” Seraphina sang, “We must protect the limited resources left for human survival.”

“Ruin one life and it always comes back to you,” Lisbeth sang back and the duo broke into laughter. Upon reaching the hill-top, Lisbeth inhaled fresh gusts of carbon dioxide as if it were early morning air; regardless of its major constituents, the air was still more pure up there than on the ground they came from.

“I love being in the midst of nature,” Lisbeth commented as she raised her lantern to illuminate the trees around.

“Being raised in a bunker surely makes you considerate,” Seraphina snorted as she squinted her eyes in the opposite direction of light. “I think I found it,” she pointed at a lush tree with long broad leaves and a silhouette of round fruits hanging in the center.

Lisbeth raised her lantern to Seraphina’s side and rolled her eyes.

“Are you kidding me? You understand that using basic observation skills is not a privilege. It is a right and you can exercise it, my daughter; that is the Annona Muricata, not even close to what we’re looking for. Don’t you see the literal spikes on its fruit?” Lisbeth worded out her exasperation.

In the light, Seraphina’s brown hair seemed haywire, each strand in strong opposition of sticking to the other. They framed her head like a crown of hay, giving way to a large forehead and sunken grey eyes. She raised her glasses closer to her eyes and replied, “Well it is not my fault that we are trespassing on government grounds with barely a light source to survive. I’m not the one with fifty years of experience in illegal activities, mother!”

“Thirty-seven!” Lisbeth corrected and turned Seraphina’s chin to the opposite side, “And that is what we are looking for. Carcia Papaya, its leaves are used to increase potential platelet count of a patient suffering from Dengue fever. Pick out the fresh ones; we’ll make a juice out of them for Mr. Henrick.”

Seraphina nodded at her obvious error in observation, for surely, the papaya tree bore round fruits instead of prickly ones. “It might need a little bit of climbing,” she pointed out, comparing their cumulative short heights with the tree’s.

She grabbed the lantern from her mother’s hand and opened up her backpack. Lisbeth grabbed a fistful of chalk from a paper bag and rubbed it across her palms. On the count of three, Lisbeth grabbed a hold of the tree’s slender trunk and mounted it with the ease of an expert. Though, just as she was about to pluck a leaf, from the gained extra height, Lisbeth spotted a fire on the lower end.

“Sera! I think there’s a fire across,” she informed as her hands hastily plucked the leaves and threw them to Seraphina.

“Why then, jump and run, mother?!” Seraphina whisper-shouted as she haphazardly picked up the leaves.

Lisbeth’s eyes did not move away from the smokeless flames which flared up her beloved trees; two silhouettes struggled in the midst of it.

“No, there’s people there…we must help them!”

“Are you kidding me? We are trespassing, mother, we cannot be caught up in it!!”

“Seraphina! I raised you better than that!” Lisbeth snapped as she jumped down with a subtle thump and forced the last bunch of leaves in her backpack.

“Even if we save them, the system will have our heads!” Seraphina snapped as she zipped up her backpack.

“We all have a choice and we must all choose kindness. If we do not, then we are no better than them.”

Lisbeth looked her daughter in the eye. Against the lantern, the grey of her eyes twinkled like a star. It brought a smile to Lisbeth’s face.

“You go home, wash the leaves, crush them and juice them. I’ll see what I can do to help. Run, now.”  

So, Seraphina ran.

 

The Lucielle Box - 3 : The Secret !

CHAPTER TWO

Outside the window, the world always seemed loud and pleasant. On a stony piece of land outside the walls of the Orphanage, street kids would holler around with a ball in hand, bickering over potential teams and points scored in the last match. Their basket was a worn-out plastic bowl balanced on the edge of the wall, always withering, when left empty, with the gusts of wind. Anyone standing on the inside could spot about five different bowls scattered on the ground, having succumbed to the fate of abandonment and the recipient of no human making retrieving attempts.

Isadora would stay at her seat’s edge as the match would grow more intense by the second, everyone’s homework on the line as loser’s weight to bear. The notes of Vivaldi’s winter warmed the tension in the air, involuntarily breathless, Isadora would just stare. The ball would dribble and be passed, sometimes a catch was missed, sometimes a basket was scored. She would exclaim and swear with great mirth and disappointment, mumbling to herself about all the ways she could have avoided the other team’s defeat. Though, her fate was one of a great observer but never an intervener, a helpless god overseeing the fate of people with great detail but possessing no ability to undo it.

The best Isadora could do was look away.

Her eyes fluttered open and the extravagant jewels etched in the dome shaped ceiling caught her attention. She swung up and the delicate engravings on the wall in front made her squirm back, into the cushiest pillows to have ever touched her undeserving back. “What in the…?” the words left her hoarse throat as her eyes scrutinized the lavishness around. Gold walls, shiny blackwood furniture engraved with precious stones, the mere spaciousness of a playground and overwhelming grandeur of paintings staring down on her.

“Was I kidnapped again…? Sold off to some rich sleazy bastard…? No, no, no, that would not be cannon appropriate,” she mumbled to herself; the words came out raspy, owing to her parched throat, yet skipping the covered glass of water placed on the bedside table, she got up and wobbled over to the desk and chair placed in front of an imperial window. The large table was littered with papers, documents and she shuffled around until she spotted a seal placed over a bunch of manila envelopes.

“Runa…me, I should have been dead…did the,” she picked up the seal and turned it over to reveal the golden crest of a sword with wings. “Fuck, did he really…” she grabbed the letters and all of them were addressed to, ‘Arizel Delmore, the thirteenth of Isdarien.’

“Of all people…why him?” she bit her lower lip as she pondered over the misfortune of the thirteenth prince, “He’s the first to die…tsk.”

She placed the letters and the seal back in the place and meandered around the room, only to stop in front of the full-length mirror encased in gold engravings. It was her appearance that caught her off guard and made her stand and stare. She used to be a simple girl with dark hair and dark eyes, no distinguishing features to set her apart from the common populace but here…here she was Runa Don Russet, petite and pale with curly ringlets of burgundy hair flowing to her waist and eyes as clear as morning dew. Though out of all miracles, the fact that she had hands was the most blessed one. She raised her hands in front of the mirror and gazed at them with much love. They were pale and slender attached to dainty wrists and long fingers, certainly made for a character who wasn’t a survivor. Nonetheless, her heart swelled with gratefulness.

“Woah…” she touched her small face and felt her dainty features, “It couldn’t get more fictional, could it?” she snorted as she tugged at her hair and genuinely felt the sensation in her scalp. Then, she realised that she was clad in a loose silk shirt and lacey shorts – did someone change her clothes? Of course, they would have gotten rid of her bloody dress but…her line of thought was interrupted by a sudden thud.

She flinched and instinctively turned to face the sound. On the window, perched like a wounded bird, was the thirteenth prince staring at her with an amused smile. His dark hair flowed with the wind, freely, a stark contrast to the bloodied white shirt stuck to his torso. Was it his blood or hers?

“Oh! You’re up, I could get used to this,” he smiled as he jumped inside the room and instantly started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Woah, woah woah, what do you think you’re doing?” she uttered, nostrils flared and brows scrunched with exasperation.

The man stopped mid-unbuttoning and looked up with a smirk, “Commonly, in a situation like this, someone would wail, ‘who are you?! Where am I?! what do you want with me?!’  but you said none of that!”

She frowned.

His dark eyes held her light ones, piercing with interest. All the while his nimble fingers worked their way through the buttons. He got rid of the sticky shirt and it was cue enough for her to yelp and turn on her heel.

“Have some shame, you pervert!” she gasped, only to realise that she was now facing a high-definition mirror with him being perfectly reflected in it.

“So, it looks like you can see far into the future but the immediate second, got it,” he chuckled as he caught her eye again, through the mirror.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she gasped and looked away, “What are you yapping about?!”

“Ya-yapping? What is that? Nonetheless, you do not have to be on guard with me, I know your secret and—”

“—Wait, what, how the heck?” she cut him, brows afrown, as she turned to face him and immediately regretted it. She placed her hand strategically ahead to over his muscular torso from her vision.

“You did not even ask, ‘what secret’ tsk…you’re suck a horrible liar.” As if to test her patience, he walked towards her and with every step he took, his torso would get clearer in her vision so she would bring her hand closer and closer to her eyes until the only thing in her vision was the back of her hand.

“Wh-what secret do you kno—” her words were cut off as she felt a hand gently caress her head. Her body stiffened upon his touch and chilly words escaped her lips, “What do you think you’re doing…?”

The man hesitated for a mere second upon receiving the chill question, looked at her narrowed clear eyes and immediately retreated his hand. “Why,” he scoffed awkwardly, “I was trying the little witch to like me so that she can heal me, ha ha…”

“Heal you…?” she frowned.

“Ah-ha! So you accept that you’re a witch!” the man exclaimed.

“What!? No! Oh holy—oh my, no, I am not a witch dude, what the heck?!”

“Do not dude me, Lady, and do not lie—” he stopped mid-sentence as he stared at the look of genuine confusion on her face. Her wide eyes stared into his with equal scandal. “Oh,” he uttered.

“Duh,” she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing on the planet.

“Lady, I LITERALLY,” he turned to expose his bruised and bloodied back in her face, “THREATENED MY LIFE AND STATUS TO SAVE YOU!”

He turned back to face her. She merely stared, stunned beyond speech.

“I am not trying to guilt-trip you, obviously,” he seethed, “But you insinuated that you were a witch!”

“Accusations! I did not!” she snapped.

“Holy Sael!” he exclaimed and shoved his head in his hands while pacing back and forth.

“Were you always this imaginative and gullible…?” she asked, partially amused, partially horrified and wholly exasperated.

“Oh, you don’t know what I have done,” he turned to face her, eyes blown wide and forehead bunched with frowny stress, “You don’t know!”

She hesitated to ask, jaw clenching, but the curious words escaped out of her mouth without permission from thought or consideration, “What did you do…?”

“So,” he licked his lips and pressed his hands over her small shoulders, as if to ground her in case she would recoil upon hearing the news and jump off the open windows. The pervious shyness of having his bare chest in such close proximity was veiled by the uncertainty their future held. “You see, lady, I thought you were a witch and you would get us out of the pinch, so, so I well, announced, claimed? No, no, announced, ah-declared! In front of the entire family, oh did I mention that we were royalty? Yes, I said that you will be my wife.”

There was a moment of silence that rained down upon them like piercing swords.

“Are you even allowed to do that?” she questioned, frowning.

“I got hit for it but they—well, I got it to work somehow…” he gulped and removed his hands from her shoulders to scratch his neck.

“There is no way you got the entire royal family involved, dude—”

“—your royal highness,” he corrected.

“—Does it really matter?! WHAT DID YOU EVEN THINK I COULD DO?!”

“WELL, I DO NOT KNOW HOW WITCHES WORK BUT A MEMORY ERASING SPELL WAS MY FIRST CONSIDERATION!”

“oh my,” whispered, holding her head in her hands, “DID YOU NOT, FOR A MOMENT, CONSDIER THE FACT THAT IF I WAS A NIFTY WITCH THEN WHY WAS I IN A PICKLE IN THE FIRST PLACE?! WOULDN’T I HAVE SAVED MYSELF.”

The shouting forced her into a violent coughing fit.

He paced across the room and fetched her a glass of water from the bedside table. While she sat and drank the water, crouched onto the floor, beside her feet and mumbled like a dejected child, “Wow, I really did not think this through.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” she snapped, voice hoarse again.

“It’s Arizel, that’s my name.”

“Mine’s Runa.”

“What now?” he looked up and asked.

She shrugged before saying, “Thank you though, you did save the world and your family by saving me. It was a good decision so I hope you don’t—”

“You’re doing it again,” he snapped, frowning.

“Doing what?!” she all but cried.

“This enigmatic old wise witch woman thing,” he snapped.

She rolled her eyes at that, realising that she was, indeed to be partially blamed for this blunder.

“What now?” he asked again, eyes narrowed at her.

From her height, she could see the bruises on his back. They seemed deep and letting them remain open and untreated for too long would encourage all sorts of infection. She shrugged again, “I don’t know…let’s get you fixed first,” she sighed.

“You cannot fix it,” he sighed.

“Why?”

“They’re poisoned blades. I already feel my head growing foggy.”

“WHAT THE FUCK?! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU SITTING ON THE FLOOR, BEING SO CHILL ABOUT IT, YOU MADMAN?!”

He laughed at that.

“At first, I was hoping you would save me – you know? I sort of wagered my survival against these so that they would let you marry me. Dumb idea, is it not? It seemed brilliant then. Do not worry though, m’lady, I was being poisoned way before this, I am quite resilient…maybe I will make it. Don’t miss me too much though.”

Though, she knew, he wouldn’t make it.