One - The End
"In an era long ago, Humans and Supernatural being coexisted in harmony. Together, they built sprawling cities that reached for the skies, playgrounds where laughter echoed through the air, and societies where survival relied upon the unique gifts bestowed upon the Supernatural.
On a radiant morning, when the sun painted the world in hues of gold and amber, a child was born. Wrapped in a shimmering aura of celestial blue, his extraordinary powers that coursed through his veins mesmerized all who beheld him.
This child, with his radiant blue powers, was destined for greatness. His abilities surpassed those of his mentors, elevating him to a realm of unparalleled strength and prowess.
Yet, it was not only his powers that set him apart; but also his undeniable charisma that captivated the hearts of both Human and Supernatural alike.
As the boy grew, so too did his legend, his name whispered in awe and reverence throughout the land. He walked among the people, every step imbued with grace and majesty. Fame and fortune followed in his wake, showering him with adoration and affluence beyond measure.
But fate had other plans for the Boy of Blue. One day, as he soared through the sky, he chanced upon a discovery that changed the course of his destiny forever. It was a call that stirred something deep within his soul. Like a tempest unleashed, he felt it, the power to absorb shadows, and with every absorption, his strength increased.
His heart quickened with excitement and his veins thrummed with newfound energy as he explored deeper into the mysteries of his ability.
Unable to stop his curiosity from wanting to try more. He scanned his surroundings and caught sight of the first shifting shadow; it was a cow’s. With a focused gaze, the boy directed his power towards the shadow, and Puff, it vanished. Swallowed whole by the boy’s insatiable hunger for more strength.
The scariest part of that day was not in the discovery of the boy’s newfound ability, nor in the startled frenzy of the cow; but in the frightening grin that twisted the boy’s face as he watched the frantic dance of the creature, desperate for its stolen shadow.
Each leap, each panicked search by the creature, seemed to fuel the boy’s amusement, and finally the cow dropped dead. He desired to revel in the power coursing through his veins as shadows vanished into the depth of his inner spirit.
A sick idea popped into his head, ‘what if I try it on people!’ With a careless disregard for the lives of those around him, the boy flew the sky in search of his next victim. His gaze fell upon an innocent old man, a solitary figure making his way along the shore. Without a second thought, the boy set his sights upon the elderly; a hunger burned within him that could not be sated.
As the shadow disappeared, so too did the old man’s sanity. His anguished cries echoed through the air, until he died and fell into the river. Yet, the boy remained unmoved, his laughter echoing the terror he created.
Delighted with his newfound abilities and despite the impending danger to both humans and supernatural beings alike, he eagerly embraced his sinister power, resolved to continue absorbing shadows without remorse even if it meant killing everyone.
Terror gripped those around him as fear filled the atmosphere. People and supernatural entities sought refuge, trembling in hiding from the boy’s ability, while he, oblivious to the consequences, reveled in his newfound dominance.
One sunny afternoon, the young boy roamed the shoreline, his gaze swept across the tranquil expanse of water that stretched before him until it settled on the distant silhouette of an Island. Among the rugged terrain, his eyes discerned the mouth of a mysterious cavern.
Intrigued by the unknown secrets concealed within, he stepped cautiously into the yawning darkness of the cave. The air was cool and damp, echoing with the faint whispers of an ancient past.
Yet, as he ventured deeper, an inexplicable force seemed to tug at his soul, drawing him further into the enigmatic depths.
Within the cavern’s bowels, clusters of glistening crystals adorned the walls like precious jewels, their ethereal glow casting dancing shadows across the rocky terrain. But within this radiant display, one gem stood out, a black diamond crystal, its surface aglow with an otherworldly luminescence that seemed to defy the dim confines of its surroundings.
Mesmerized by its beauty and captivated by the crack in the cave’s ceiling that bathed it in glowing light, the boy couldn’t tear his gaze away.
There, in that moment, he sensed a connection, a bond forged between himself and this black diamond stone.
With trembling hands, the boy reached out to touch the crystal, only to be consumed by searing agony as his inner soul was drained away. His screams rent the air, echoed through the cavernous depths.
As his life slipped away, a vow escaped his lips, ‘I will be back.’
The echoes of the boy’s scream vibrated through the globe, sending shivers down the spines of all who heard it. But they were too frightened to leave their houses believing that he might be playing dangerous games with them, trying to lure them out of their safe zones, putting them into danger and ultimately, to their deaths. They were too scared to accept the fact that he might be gone.
Months passed, yet the boy’s absence lingered like a shadow, haunting the hearts of those who dared to go out.
But one day, in a small town, a brave group of both human and supernatural assembled with a singular purpose, to uncover the truth behind the boy’s mysterious disappearance.
Through difficult effort, they traced his last known whereabouts to a deserted Island. Cautious inspection revealed a trail of footprints etched into the earth, a breadcrumb trail of sorts leading them deeper into the Island’s heart.
As they pressed forward, a foreboding atmosphere hung heavy around them. Their journey reached a crucial stage upon the discovery of a cavern. Signs of struggle became increasingly apparent, a smattering of bloodstains splattered across verdant plants, grim handprints smeared upon gnarled bark.
And then, among a mass of branches, they found him, his lying body obscured beneath a shroud of leaves. One among them, encouraged, approached cautiously, a branch grasped tightly in hand, ready to pierce the veil that shrouded the boy’s fate. Carefully he reached out and poked him.
The boy slowly blinked his eyes open, finding himself met with the intense gaze of the man before him. Instantly, a shiver of fear ran down the man’s spine, rippling through the gathering crowd like a sudden gust of wind.
Contrary to their beliefs, he wasn’t dead.
As panic spread like wildfire, they scrambled, seeking refuge behind the shelter of nearby trees, their hearts pounding in their chests. Yet, a voice cut through the clamor, halting their frantic retreat.
‘Wait! Hold on!’ The boy’s voice pierced through the chaos, as he rose swiftly to his feet, his hands instinctively sweeping away the clinging dust from his trousers.
The man’s eyes widened, ‘I beg you, spare me and my companions. Please, have mercy,’ the man said, his tone shifted to one of desperation.
‘I won’t harm you. I truly am sorry,’ a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of the boy’s lips, though it did not reach his eyes.
Peering cautiously from their hiding places, some witnessed the boy kneeling, head bowed. ‘Please forgive me,’ his voice carried on the breeze, ‘an evil spirit overtook me, but it is gone now.’
Initially, they didn’t believe him, or they couldn’t, but after a while, their doubts dissolved, and the conviction grew that the boy had been stripped of his blue shining abilities, appearing more akin to an ordinary supernatural.
The courageous men of the town, filled with joy at this miraculous turn, welcomed the boy back into the fold only to subject him to a magnificent execution, a spectacle for all to witness. With a collective sigh of relief, the world celebrated their survival, rejoicing day and night for an entire week.
Once the festivities concluded, humans placed blame on the supernatural for all the events that happened and the significant loss of life.
Casting them out from their houses and consigning them to a life of exile upon the Island where the boy was found.
From that point forward, humans chose to deny the existence of the magical world, forgetting the friendships and contributions that had once united them. A few of the remaining Supernatural chose to hide among humans. Those who didn’t hide faced capture, torture, and death.
As the years turned to centuries and centuries into millennia, the memory of the magical world faded into legend, a tale whispered in hushed tones by those who dared to remember.”
“This is a summary of our history,” the professor continues, “I’m Professor McLant, Brian McLant, for those who don’t know me. I will be teaching you our full history throughout this semester. This is a required course regardless of your major.”
The teacher’s voice fades. I’m not really here anymore. My mind drifts, lost in thoughts of her, the girl who haunts my every thought. I find myself dreaming of those eyes, that soft, round face, her long, gleaming brown hair.
It was a typical morning, just another day, strolling outside the Island. What struck me most was the contrast in time zones. Though it was daytime on the Island, it was nighttime where I stood. And there she was, walking towards me, clad in a pink hoodie and sleek black pants. Her perfume hit me, sinking deep into my soul as she drew near. She glanced at me, a soft smile gracing her lips as she uttered a simple ‘hi,’ before continuing her way.
I froze. A chill ran through me. My shirt stuck to my skin, drenched in sweat. My heart raced, thudding in my chest, while my palms grew clammy. The thought of her smiling at me sent waves of nervousness coursing through my body.
She wasn’t afraid of me!
The bell rings, jolting me back to reality. I gather my belongings and make my way to my next class, Geography. Today’s session is about the Island’s villages, and what each contains. For me, it’s nothing but a required course. Just boring.
Taking my usual seat on the right-hand side of the classroom, beads of sweat trickling down my forehead. The heat intensifies the burning of my scar etched into my left cheek. Despite the years that have elapsed, it still feels raw, as though freshly inflicted. It’s a constant reminder of what I did, of the fear I once coped with. I want to escape from this reality, but I can’t. And I’m not the only one who remembers. The others do too. I see it in their eyes, in the way their energy shifts when I walk into the room.
I try to block it all out. My left palm covers my scar as I close my eyes. I focus, steadying my breath. Then, I inject the cold fluid smoothly into my face, which brings me immediate relief and minimizes my pain.
When I open my eyes, Ian is already in class, seated at the front, subtly observing me from the corner of his eyes. He’s the college director’s son, one of the most powerful supernatural I’ve ever encountered. Girls always pursued him; drawn to his tall, lean body, tousled brown hair, bronzed skin, and piercing blue eyes. I’ve known him since we were kids; we used to play together despite the age gap.
After several years away from studying, returning to college felt like stepping into a different world.
I remember it clearly. Last year, my first year, was especially difficult. The first few months nearly broke me. Some students treated me like I didn’t belong. Harry was the worst of them. He looked at me like I was nothing, a killer, a mutant, someone who should be behind bars.
Still, I stood my ground. I defended myself in every way I could. My chin was always high, because I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong. So I never let them see how much it hurt. Never let them hear the screams buried deep inside me.
After Harry’s last attempt to hurt me. No. To burn me alive, something shifted. The physical attacks stopped, but the judgment didn’t. Their whispers, their stares, the way students avoided sitting near me… Even some of the professors hesitated before calling my name. It was a quieter cruelty, but constant. I tried to act like it didn’t matter. But the truth is, the loneliness never really went away.
Still, I didn’t mind. Even now I don’t really care. I just want to be left alone. If it weren’t for my mother, her belief in me, her refusal to let me give up, and her insistence that I reclaim the future that had been stolen from me, I would’ve preferred to stay home.
Besides Ian, there’s Rubi, his girlfriend. Together, they’re the couple everyone looks up to. Strong, popular, and inseparable. The perfect match.
As the bell rings once more, signaling the end of the class, I find myself the last one to leave the classroom.
Duel Day looms on the horizon. On this day, the director’s arbitrary hand selects two classes; from each, a single student is destined to step forth and compete for victory in front of the entire college. The successful contender earns the coveted prize of exemption from the final exams, alongside gaining extra credits to embellish their academic record. It’s a day of excitement and anticipation for the rest of the college, but for me, it’s a chance to find comfort in the quiet emptiness of the cafeteria, where I can disappear into the shadows and go unnoticed.
As the day ends, I start planning for a new journey. Tomorrow, with the break of dawn, I intend to go out of the Island, to go into the humans’ world, to feel free... Well, that’s only part of the truth. Deep down, my motivation lies in a quest to find the mystery girl who captured my heart. I know it may be considered reckless, even illegal to leave the Island, but maybe; just maybe, it’s my only way out of here, my only ticket off this Island.
With a heavy heart, I make my way towards my brother’s school, the weight of the day’s events bearing down upon me. As I reach the gates, I hear his familiar voice.
“Liam, Liam!” He calls out, I scan my surroundings, my gaze shifting from one direction to another in search of him. Luke’s sudden appearance catches me off guard; he dashes towards me with unbridled enthusiasm. Without hesitation, he leaps into my arms.
Instinctively, I catch him, draw him close and squeeze my brother tightly against my chest before gently setting him down.
“Hey buddy,” I say, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Let’s go home, okay?”
Our house lies approximately sixteen miles distant from my brother’s school, necessitating our reliance on his school bus for transportation. As we make our way down the narrow aisle, I can’t help but notice the faces turning away from me in fear, that’s not a big deal since every day is the same as the previous day.
Taking our usual seats in the fifth row on the right-hand side, my brother claims the spot beside the window. I sense his worry emanating through the gentle press of his hand against mine, as he leans into me. With a soft sigh, I lean back offering my shoulder as his makeshift pillow.
“Hey Luke, we’re here. Let’s roll,” I say gently, guiding him towards the bus doors as we prepare to get off. His hand clutches mine tightly, his steps tentative as he follows my lead.
Our mother, Sam, stands patiently at the kitchen window. Her round face, framed by a cascade of brown, curly hair, exudes warmth. While her brown eyes, keen and perceptive, reflect a depth of understanding earned through years of experience. Formerly employed at Pasty Main Hospital nursery, her nurturing instincts remain finely attuned, capable of discerning even the subtlest shifts in our emotions.
With a welcoming smile, she ushers us inside.
“Hi, Ma,” Luke says, dropping his book bag upon entering.
“Hi honey, how was your day?” My mother asks, her hands busy with a dishtowel as she greets us in the kitchen.
“It was great,” he replies eagerly, his eyes bright with excitement as he grabs a cookie from the counter.
“Hi, Ma. I’m going to my room,” already halfway up the stairs.
“Honey, wait! You don’t wanna eat with us?” She calls after me.
“Hum, thanks Ma, but I’m not hungry,” I call out from the top of the stairs, my voice carrying a hint of fatigue. Despite my attempt to brush off her concern, I can sense from the expression on her face that she sees through my facade, recognizing the weight of my day.
I retreat to my room, tossing my bag onto the floor before collapsing onto my bed. The soft sheets brush against my skin, but I barely notice. My eyes shut almost instantly, and I fall into sleep, already dreaming of the moves I’ll make tomorrow morning.
As planned, I wake up around 1:00 A.M., and slip into my black hoodie, matching pants, and dark shoes, aiming to blend seamlessly into the night’s shadows. Pulling on my cap, I silently slip out through the back door of our house.
With a quickened pace, I dart towards the woods, my heart pounding faster with my footsteps. The crisp night air fills my lungs, refreshing me, as I feel free.
In the heart of the forest, nowhere to be found, stands a small treehouse, which I constructed… Well, not just me… Ian and I built it together, floating forty feet above the forest floor within the crooked branches of an ancient tree. It’s been ages since Ian last joined me here.
I use my floating ability, effortlessly ascending towards the treehouse. It has become my safest place, where I seek comfort in moments of confusion, loneliness, and uncertainty. It holds the memories of countless moments spent seeking refuge from the world below.
The treehouse oozes coziness with a small bed nestled by a window on the right, a wooden chair in the opposite corner, and a rounded black carpet at its center.
To access the human world, I must create a portal bridging two locations, my current position, and my desired destination. This requires a magical stone, smooth and sky blue in color. Holding it firmly in my palm, I focus my thoughts on the destination and then hurl the stone before me and Boom! It enlarges, transforming into a vast swirling portal of clear blue.
Most of these stones are under the strict control of Mr. Samuel, the Island’s president, as contact with the human world is strictly prohibited. However, years ago, when I got myself into trouble, my mom entrusted me with her hidden stone, allowing me a means of escape and a way to hide for a while. Since then, I’ve kept it close, utilizing it on the Island only within the limits of my treehouse.
Closing the portal is a simple task. With focused concentration, I will it to shut, and the swirling gateway obediently seals.
Over the past few years, my travels have taken me everywhere, each destination a reflection of places I had glimpsed on the human internet. Yet, among the multitude of locations visited, one village remains etched vividly in my memory, her village, Ferna.
Located in the heart of the forest, it’s a small village comprising around fifty family homes, each with its own charming garden. Painting the landscape with vibrant colors. Stretching before each house lies a grand sidewalk, lined with majestic Weeping Cherry trees. The nearest village lies a distant eighty-six miles away, leaving Ferna a serene oasis untouched by the outside world.
Passing through the portal, I reach the forest, just a mile from Ferna village.
After closing the portal and pocketing my rock, I walk swiftly, smiling at the thought of her. Reaching the familiar spot where I’d seen her before, I lean casually against a tree on the sidewalk, trying to look like I belong, hoping she’ll pass by again. A few people walk past, a guy in red pants, a woman cradling a baby to her chest, two women walking side by side, one clearly younger than the other, maybe a mother and daughter, holding some grocery bags. Even a group of teenagers strolls by, laughing and pushing each other playfully. Strangely, more people than usual seem to be out tonight, but I do my best to act normal though I was extremely nervous.
But then, I picture her, long, straight brown hair swaying with each step. I imagine what it would feel like to run my fingers through it. The thought alone sends more waves of tension through me. Sweat clings to my back, and my heart pounds so hard I can hear it echoing in my ears.
Time slips by faster than I expect, but she never comes.
I head home, disappointed, but not discouraged. I’ll be back. Every day, if I have to. One way or another, I’ll see her again.
With a few hours until my university classes, I relax on my bed.
As I lie there, I gradually drift off.
Two - Practice
Lavender, my mother’s favorite flower. I often wonder why lavenders hold such a special place in her heart. Why not roses or lilies? But I really don’t know. She’s captivated by their fragrance, enchanted by their form, and entranced by their hue. Personally, I find them overpowering. Their scent triggers an urge to sneeze whenever I’m near them.
My father, on the other hand, is a kind man. His love for my mother knows no bounds, a devotion that sees him fulfilling her every wish, even if it meant transforming our garden into a sea of lavender, a flower he himself doesn’t particularly care for. Though his affection for me may not always be apparent, but I know it’s there.
I’m not like other girls; I was born with gifts beyond the ordinary. Some might call them blessings, but to me, they often feel more like a curse. Because of these unique abilities, my education has been confined to the walls of our home. I have no friends, no semblance of a normal life. And worst of all, I must keep the truth hidden, especially from my father. Despite my numerous attempts to know the truth from my mother, she always deflects, steering the conversation away from the topic at hand.
Since I was a kid, Mondays have held a special significance for me. It’s the day my mom and I retreat to our cabin in the forest to improve my abilities. There I can breathe; I can feel free, and I can use my powers as much as I want without any obstruction. I cannot recall when this cabin was built, whether before my birth or after, but its presence has always been a comforting constant in my life.
As you enter, the first room you step into is the living room, furnished with two large sofas and two smaller ones, creating a welcoming and comfortable space. From there, two doors lead to different areas of the house.
The first door leads to a small, cozy kitchen where my mother sometimes prepares snacks for me.
The second door opens to a bedroom that has direct access to a bathroom.
Inside, with the door behind you, a spacious bed nestled closer to the right wall, accompanied by a window adorned with two chairs, creating a cozy nook for relaxation. To the right of the bed, a small bedside table. While on the left, a sizable closet stands alongside a securely locked medical storage unit, diligently overseen by my mom.
Despite the furnishings, a large space is left for us to practice, and of course, all around my mother’s beloved lavender blooms, their delicate scent mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest.
My mother is my guiding light, my mentor. Though the extent of my powers remain shrouded in mystery, she always assures me that maybe one day, just maybe, I may be called upon to confront and vanquish an ancient evil from… Hum, well I don’t know where or from whom; she never told me, and I never asked. But what I do know is that I’m the only one capable of fighting it, given my unique strength.
I have always possessed these green powers, a legacy bestowed upon me from birth. Under my mother’s guidance, I have honed my skills, learning to harness the untamed energy that courses through my veins.
All it takes to activate my green powers is focus. As soon as I concentrate, it happens naturally, my body lifts slightly off the ground. My eyes shift from clear blue to a glowing green, my hair begins to float, radiating a soft emerald light. My skin shimmers with the same green hue, turning slightly translucent.
In that state, I feel different, stronger, more alive. I can do things I’m not sure I’m capable of when I’m not shining, like shape my surroundings, mend wounds, perceive in darkness and much more, though I’m still uncovering the extent of my abilities.
My mom is not just my teacher; she’s my protector, my closest ally. She once told me that when I was just two years old, I unknowingly transferred a part of my power to her. Because of that bond, she can hear my thoughts upon my request, bolster my strength when I’m weak or unwell, communicate with me telepathically, and we share part of each other’s pain. We’re united by our shared power, and nothing can break that connection, except death.
Right now, we’re at the cabin, preparing for my next lesson. Today’s focus is learning how to form a protective shield around myself.
“Are you ready?” My mom calls out from a distance.
“Yeah, let’s start,” I respond, springing to my feet.
“Okay, come and stand in front of me,” she instructs. “Breathe slowly; imagine that I want to attack you.”
With a flick of her wrist, a shimmering ball of energy materializes within her palms, crackling with untamed power. My heart quickens at the sight, adrenaline coursing through my veins as I prepare to face the challenge ahead.
“I fire it at you. What do you do? Quick!” She prompts.
Focusing my thoughts, I draw upon the spirit of energy within me. As the wave of energy hurtles my direction, I use all of my strength, willing a shield to materialize. But it’s not enough. The blast crashes into me, knocking me off balance. I hit the ground hard, breathless.
“Eve, you have to counter my attack and protect yourself,” my mother advises. “You need to create a shield that envelops you, one strong enough to deflect the blow. It may not be easy, but with practice, you’ll succeed. Remember, never - ever - give up when you’re in a weak position. Do you understand?” She emphasizes.
“Yes, Mom,” I reply, pushing myself to my feet.
“Now let’s try it again. I know you can do it, love,” my mother’s voice echoes in the cabin.
My eyes shut, thinking about how much she’s counting on me to succeed.
With a deep breath, I try to center myself and focus on my powers. Suddenly, I hear faint cries nearby. Startled, my eyes snap open. Mom is gone. In her place, few feet away, stands a little boy. Head bowed, his small body trembling with sobs, shoulders rising and falling as he cries.
I approach slowly, careful not to scare him, but he senses my presence and lifts his head.
His tear-filled brown eyes meet mine.
‘Can you tell him to stop?’ He pleads between sniffles.
‘Whom?’ I whisper, my hand rests on his shoulder.
He points hesitantly in his front and replies, ‘him.’
I’ve never seen such fear in anyone’s eyes, let alone a child’s.
I follow the direction of his finger and see a slim man clutching a belt, poised to strike. I quickly turn back to the boy, but he’s gone. Vanished.
I whip my head around again, the boy is there, caught under the man’s rage, enduring blow after brutal blow. The hits are harsh, sickening. Yet he’s taking them.
My chest tightens, my eyes sting. I can’t stand by and watch this injustice unfold. I sprint toward them, heart pounding, and throw myself between the man and the boy. My arms rise instinctively, palms out.
‘Stop! Please stop!’ I scream, body trembling.
But the man ignores me. He raises his hand to strike again, only this time, the blow is meant for me.
‘Just stop it,’ I yell. A brilliant green light bursts from my palms, forming a massive shield around us. My whole body quakes. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to breathe, to steady myself.
When I open them again, everything has changed, I’m back in our cabin, the protective shield still shimmering around my body. My mother’s applause and proud smile greet me as I kneel on the floor.
“Good job! You did it. You’re a fast learner, my love. I’m so proud of you,” she says warmly, as she approaches.
“Thanks, Mom. I have the best teacher, that’s why,” I exhale, attempting to calm my nerves. My heart is still racing, and breathing feels difficult.
I lower my palms, dispelling the shield, and rise to my feet. “Can we go home now?” I address my mother, while taking note of the darkness outside.
“Of course, sweetheart,” she replies.
We traverse the forest tranquility for about thirty minutes before reaching the streets. After a quick stop at the supermarket to pick up some groceries, we head back home. For the first time, I really notice the people on the street, well, one person in particular. He’s wearing long sleeves, which strikes me as odd, considering how hot it is outside.
Inside our house, my father is seated in the living room watching TV while my mother begins preparing food.
I make my way upstairs to my room.
I can’t get the boy’s face out of my head. He was just a kid, so small, so scared. No child should ever have to endure something like that.
I don’t even know if he was real. Maybe he was just a simulation, something my mind created to sharpen my focus… To accelerate how I understand my powers. At least, I hope that’s all he was.
I step into my room and sink into the chair at my desk, facing the window. Folding my hands on the table in front of me, I stare out into the night, hoping for answers in the silence.
The dark blue sky is filled with twinkling stars, casting a serene glow overhead. The moon hangs larger than usual, as if it’s within arm’s reach.
A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to see my mom standing in the now-open doorway.
“Hey, dinner’s ready. Come on,” she says, her hands resting on her hips as she waits for me.
I follow her into the kitchen, where my father awaits us at the table. Taking my seat beside him, my mother has prepared a steaming plate of pasta, my favorite dish, as if she’s celebrating today’s achievement.
The smell alone makes my mouth water. I twirl a generous heap around my fork, lift it, and shove it into my mouth.
Oh. Oh no. It’s scorching hot. My mouth feels like it’s on fire. I definitely burned my tongue, again. I start fanning my mouth with my hand, trying to cool it down. Across the table, Mom watches me with an amused smile. A few seconds pass. I close my eyes. It’s creamy, cheesy, and absolutely perfect. Once we finish our meal, I bid my parents goodnight.
Exhausted from the day’s training, all I crave is to sleep. I retreat to my room and slip into my comfortable blue pajamas, pants and a loose blouse. Nestling beneath the quilt, I’m enveloped in its warmth and the soothing scent of lavender. Despite my weariness, sleep eludes me.
The boy’s face keeps flashing in my mind, vivid as if he’s right here with me. I close my eyes, trying to force the thoughts away. Strangely, the room feels like it’s growing darker, heavier. My eyelids droop, and finally, I surrender to sleep.
I’m in the forest. The boy from my vision stands ahead of me, among the trees. His eyes meet mine, and slowly, he raises his hand, inviting me to follow. And I do. I run toward him, my heart racing. But just as I’m about to reach him, he vanishes, and reappears farther away, still holding out his hand. I frown, confused, but adjust my path and run again. I stretch my hand toward his, desperate to touch him, but once more, he disappears. I spin around, searching. He’s behind me now, still distant, still waiting. I start running again, faster this time, silently pleading for him to stay.
Then, out of nowhere, a searing pain rips through my right knee. I cry out, but no sound escapes my lips. My leg gives out beneath me, and I crash to the ground. The world tilts, and I clutch my knee, but the pain is overwhelming. Blood begins to pool, warm and dark, soaking into the earth. I try to scream, to call for help, but my voice is gone, trapped somewhere deep inside me.
As I glance up, the boy is suddenly there, standing right in front of me, his gaze fixed on mine.
‘Wake up! Wake up!’ He urges. His hand reaches out, resting on my shoulder. His touch is gentle yet insistent, jolting me awake.
My eyes snap open to find my mom hovering over me, concern etched on her face. My body is drenched in sweat, my clothes cling to me, and my knee. God, my knee is throbbing with pain.
“Are you okay, Eve?” Wiping her brow with the back of her hand.
I wince, shifting my head from side to side.
“Where does it hurt?” My mom asks as she settles on the edge of the bed, her hand soothingly stroking my hair.
“My knee,” I manage to grunt through the pain.
She carefully pulls the sheets away, revealing my blood-soaked pajama pants.
A gasp escapes her lips as she assesses the severity of the injury.
“What happened?” She asks, worried as she gingerly lifts my pants, causing more pain to shoot through my leg.
“I don’t know,” I reply, my voice trembling as tears stream down my face, with each movement, the pain intensifies.
“Hey, look at me,” my mom coaxes, her hand tenderly cupping my cheek.
I meet her gaze.
“You’re gonna be okay, it’s just a small cut,” she reassures me, a smile gracing her lips. “Do you remember our practice a few weeks ago on how you heal wounds?” She asks, wiping away my tears with her thumbs.
“Yeah,” I respond, sniffling as I try to regain my composure.
“Now, it’s a great time to use it. Come on. Try to sit,” my mom encourages, urging me to gather my strength and focus.
She places her hands on my shoulders, offering support as I sit up straighter.
“Come on, put your palm on your bleeding knee, sweetie,” my mom instructs.
“Now, concentrate on healing it. Don’t be afraid to take your time,” she adds.
I close my eyes and focus. I know I can mend it, my knee, even though I haven’t honed this ability much. I’ve done it before, so I can do it again. I just need to believe in myself and trust in my abilities.
But… Something’s wrong. I feel weak and dizzy. My energy is draining fast. That’s not good at all.
As my eyes flutter open, I’m no longer in my room. I don’t know where I am exactly, but the boy is here again. He’s sitting on the floor, right in front of me, hugging his knees. His small body is trembling, and I can hear him quietly sobbing. Blood drips from his forearms, pooling on the floor. It takes me a second to understand, it’s from the slim man. From the beatings.
I kneel in front of him, trying to figure out how to approach without frightening him more. Slowly, gently, I reach out and place my hand on one of his wounds. He flinches. His head jerks up, and his eyes lock with mine. His forehead is streaked with blood. His right eye is swollen shut. My heart stutters. My breath catches. My eyes widen in shock.
‘You’re gonna be okay,’ I whisper, my voice barely steady. A warm glow begins to spread from my palm, radiating into his injured arm.
Suddenly, a chill runs through my body, causing me to blink rapidly. I try to control it, but I can’t. Just as suddenly as it stops, I’m back in my room. My mom sits before me, a smile on her face while the pain in my knee has vanished.
“I told you,” my mom says. “Now, take your bath while I change your sheets, then try to rest, okay honey?”
“Yeah, okay, fine,” I reply, making my way towards the bathroom.
She’s worried about me. I can feel it. She doesn’t understand what just happened, and neither do I. It feels just weird and bizarre, however one thing is clear, the boy’s presence, though mysterious, seems to be helping me grow stronger with each encounter.
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