ARAH
Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting a soft, golden glow. Velvet curtains draped along the walls. The decorations were sophisticated yet outdated.
“Where am I?” Arah whispered, glancing around. Stringmaster and the inmates were nowhere in sight. How had she ended up here? Drusden’s fog came to mind. Had she been caught in it again?
This looked nothing like Shamibar. It couldn’t be another memory. This was still Earthland—but from a completely different time. People in tailcoats and ball gowns filled the room. Some were seated on plush chairs, others standing with glasses of wine, a few men with cigars between their lips.
“My love, I have been cursed!” A woman’s voice rang out, drawing her attention to a small makeshift stage at the front of the room. It felt like a theater play, but with only one performer and a smaller, intimate audience. The room had a private air, as if it were part of a wealthy person’s home.
ARAHThe scene shifted to a cemetery. Arah watched as Marianne knelt before her mother’s tomb, fidgeting with a faceless doll in a worn dress. Marianne spoke about how she’d sometimes pretend her mama was in the doll—one that Anne had once owned. It was dirty now, nearly bald.Tears welled in Marianne’s eyes as she spoke about her work. Arah could feel the burden of it all, the pressure Edmond was placing upon her. She knew exactly what that was like.Marianne’s face clouded with sadness as she vented about how her papa would’ve been happier if she had been the one who died instead. “You should have lived, Mama,” she whispered, brushing dry leaves from the stone. “I should never have been born.”The words triggered something in Arah, a familiar ache tightening in her chest. Though she couldn’t remember the exact details, she knew she had once said and felt something similar—that she should’ve been the one who died. That Siegfrid and Irmee
ARAHShe was transported to a lavish party at a big house that didn’t belong to Marianne and her father. The air was filled with chatter and laughter. Couples danced in the spacious center of the room as violins and cellos played in the background. Women talked about fashion and jewelry, while the men were engrossed in serious discussions about business and war.In the corner, she spotted Marianne, drinking alone, fully aware of the other women gossiping about her—women who once fawned over her to be friends. Arah pursed her lips. She hated those types of people.“I cannot believe Madame invited her,” one woman commented in a shrill voice. “She is nothing but a faded glory now. No one cares for her anymore.”“If she possessed even a shred of decency,” added another, “she would not dare show her face in society any longer.”Even men would quietly advise one another not to ask Marianne to dance. Some even deliberately avoided walking
ARAHDark Plane.This was one of those moments where the word felt familiar... like it was right there on the edge of her memory, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t grasp it completely.Drusden continued explaining to Marianne the two types of witches and how a human could cross over to that other dimension and receive a gift. It was different for everyone, he said, and there was always a cost. No one knew what that price would be until after what he called a ‘cosmic trade’ was officially made.Arah wondered what the Dark Plane was like. Just the name itself evoked a sense of evil and danger. Could sylphs and salamanders travel there too? Would they also gain additional power?“How am I supposed to cross this...” Marianne gestured vaguely, a slight frown forming on her face. “Dark Plane you speak of?”“You cross it as you would cross any other place, woman.” A raspy voice echoed from the shadows at
ARAHCould he see her? How? She held her breath, not daring to move. Even as he inched closer, her body stayed locked in place. Her lips trembled, her mind racing between trying to make sense of the situation and figuring out what to do if he decided to attack or something.Zephyr’s thick brows furrowed, his indigo eyes so close they seemed to pierce straight into her soul. He lifted a hand, then stopped, his fingers just a breath away from touching her curls. Arah’s stomach clenched with fear. It felt like this had all happened before.“They say time and space bend differently in the ruins of Yonah’s Temple,” he whispered, his voice making her heartbeat quicken even more. “Strange thing, it is.”“What is happening, My Lord?” Drusden asked from behind.“Little Rabbit.”Arah blinked, the words making the back of her neck prickle.Zephyr’s lips twitched, caught between a smile and a chuckle. His eyes scanned her face, t
ARAH“Leave my mind, sylph!” Marianne’s distorted voice echoed in Arah’s ear, and an intense tingling sensation shot from her feet upward, stealing her breath for a moment.Her mind snapped back to the sight of the cell. A force slammed into her like a kick to the stomach, hurling her across the room. Her back collided with the wall, a groan tearing from her throat. Her muscles and bones ached, and a sharp ringing settled in her ears. Disoriented, it took her a few seconds to regain her senses. She cringed as something sticky clung to her hair—she was inches from the toilet, which reeked of piss and leftover excrement.Gagging, her head throbbed with the sound of fists battering against the steel door, growls and curses filling the air. Her wind tattoo coiled around the slit in the door, keeping it shut.Stringmaster stood across the stinking cell, fists trembling at her sides as if all her emotions had gathered there. Arah looked at the
ARAHMore than anything, that was what intrigued her the most. “Why is a sylph helping witches on Earthland?” She still couldn’t make sense of it. Sylphs were supposed to be protectors of humanity... guardians against supernatural and interdimensional threats. That was their purpose, their life mission. Why would one be helping a human gain powers by accessing a hostile dimension that even higher mortals wouldn’t dare venture into?It reminded her of what Gildeon had once told her about a group of sylphs stationed on Earthland by the Shining Keeper. They were soldiers tasked with eliminating threats to lower mortals and maintaining the balance of power within Earthland.Hunters.They were built differently from the Shamibar sylphs.Was Zephyr one of them? But something else was off about him, something unnatural that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. And then there was that odd sense of familiarity. Had she heard of him back in
ARAHShe helped Zylas prepare lunch for everyone in one of the prison kitchens. It felt strange doing something so mundane with a witch, and just hours before they were set to fight another coven. But she welcomed the downtime—a quiet moment before the chaos that was bound to unfold later.Besides, this was her chance to figure out Zylas’s weaknesses, even though Gildeon had already told her that he was the one she didn’t need to get close to. But with Lokius currently in some kind of hibernation and Vienna busy discussing strategies with Drusden, Arah didn’t have much of a choice. She might as well hang around with Zylas and make herself useful.She used to underestimate Zylas’s role in the coven. With his weird, carefree attitude at times, it was hard not to question why they seemed to value him so much. If it was his cooking, well, that was something she could easily agree with. He wasn’t as graceful as Tonio in the kitchen, chopping onions l
Long Time Ago (Part 1)YOUNG GILDEONHis fist smashed into Baltae’s face with a sharp crack, sending him skidding across the rough ground. The air stank of sulfur and ash, smoke hissing from the cracks in the earth. Around them, a group of sparring younglings had dropped their blades and formed a circle, but their shouts were just a blur in Gildeon’s ears.His chest heaved, his heart pounding so hard it hurt. He jumped on Baltae, fists swinging again and again, each punch making his knuckles burn. Anger roared inside him, making his head throb and his arms shake, his breathing short and wild.‘Kill him!’ the monstrous voice echoed in his head. He yelled, trying to shut it up while still swinging his fists.Suddenly, arms wrapped around his neck from behind, squeezing tight. Paikon—smaller, but still strong enough to pull him back as Baltae scrambled to his feet.Baltae swung, but Gildeon twisted jus