Auras manifested as radiant beams of vibrant hues, each colour holding significance and revealing insights into an individual's thoughts and emotions. By the age of six, Ada was already aware of her ability to see auras. With focused intent, Ada could single out a person's aura, avoiding the overwhelming sight of a multitude of neon bulbs.

It first happened in the form of a golden halo around her beaming brother Auden, who had just received his first bow and arrow set from their dad. Although it was a play set with dull sticks for arrows and a loose string, the tiny fella was thrilled to be included in his big sister's training sessions.

Ada was an early bloomer, unlike many great mages Crepusculum had birthed. Although Ada was quite young to manipulate her abilities, the elders of Crepusculum were delighted to see their heir bloom early.

Her grandmother, the Head Magess at the time, became her mentor, guiding her through the process of understanding and interpreting these colourful energy fields.

As time passed, the practice of reading auras grew wearisome for Ada. She hadn't delved into the energies that surrounded others in a while, choosing to keep her focus inward. The encounter with the man devoid of aura rattled her to the core.

He defied everything she had known about auras and their connection to life and vitality. How could someone exist without this vibrant essence, especially if they appeared alive and unaffected by impending death? She could not think of an answer.

It wasn't in her plans to peer into his. In fact, it wasn't in her plans to meet him this evening at all—an evening that could have been fine without that stranger and the night walker both.

Her lungs burned with each gasping breath, the exertion of the impromptu sprint taking its toll on her body. Finally upon reaching the familiar doorsteps of her apartment, her trembling hands fumbled with the Keys , struggling to find the right one amidst the panic that gripped her. The door seemed to taunt her, prolonging her agony as seconds stretched into forever.

Finally after what felt like an eternity, the lock clicked open, and Ada stumbled inside, collapsing against the door in sheer exhaustion.

It wasn't the fear of ghosts, beasts, or others from the Dark Side that gripped her. The true fear had already materialised within her life, leaving her with nothing more to lose. Left dumbfounded and shaken by the impromptu run, Ada sat slumped against the door for a good thirty minutes, her pulse gradually returning to normal.

The unsettling encounter had left her feeling vulnerable and exposed. She had believed that the past she left behind would dissipate once she arrived here, only to discover that the malevolent tendrils were stealthily creeping toward her, defying the barriers of distance and the passage of time. Maybe she should have gone far from that place. The thing was she could not have made up her mind.

Sighing she willed herself to calm down. Gathering herself from the cool tile floor, Ada was trying to regain her footing when a sudden crash echoed from the back of her kitchen. Any form of relief she was longing for was cut out even before it could reach her.

Frozen in place, she hesitated, her mind racing with thoughts of what could be lurking in her home at this hour.

"What the–what's it now?" she muttered under her breath, her heart pounding in her chest like a wild beast trying to escape its cage.

She lived alone, without any pets to blame for the noise. And her humble abode was a rat free zone for good. Could it be possible that whatever she encountered earlier had followed her here? The idea sent shivers down her spine.

She armed herself with a decently weighing flower pot which she managed to snatch from the coffee table nearby. Taking a deep breath, she mustered some well needed courage, and cautiously made her way towards the kitchen. Hugging the cool ceramic weapon she had just acquired tightly to her chest, ready to strike if necessary, she stepped down the dark hallway to the kitchen and flickered the kitchen lights on.

The lights revealed a chaotic scene: a mess of empty soda cans, a discarded aluminium foil, and the remnants of what distinctly looked like her steak leftovers from the previous night. It was as if someone or rather something had ransacked her kitchen. Her eyes darted across the messy counter and locked onto a pair of frightened doe eyes.

There was a creature, something she had grown accustomed to by now. The menace had its hands full of chocolate mint cookies, cowerding at the edge of the counter, clearly terrified by her rather dramatic entrance.

'Right, I just forgot that I have a company here. Yeah, not ever welcomed but never left, the only companion of mine!'

It was the mischievous elf, the unwanted but persistent companion that had been keeping her company ever since she got abandoned by her own kin. A mixture of annoyance and relief washed over her. She had forgotten about the stalkerish elf for a second. Whenever it showed up her food seemed to mysteriously disappear.

Her tense muscles gradually relaxed, and she let out a sigh of both frustration and gratitude. Among the countless perilous scenarios she had anticipated, the sight of the mischievous elf tampering with her food was surprisingly welcoming.

Dragging a chair across the floor, she settled down, half-dropping the flower pot onto the counter. The elf, startled by the sound, stumbled backward, and landed unceremoniously on the ground.

"You're home-eh?" It muttered, a hint of weird satisfaction tinting its voice.

She hummed in response, her fingers reaching to snatch a chocolate mint cookie from the carton, left behind by the fallen elf.

With a nimble leap, the creature perched itself back on the countertop, positioning itself near the cookie bag as if it was the fortune it was set upon to guard with its life's cost.

"So, how was your date? He good-eh?" the elf inquired, its coir bristle eyebrows wiggling.

Ada's first bite of the cookie turned into a painful choke. "How do you even know about that?" she managed to sputter, very much caught off guard.

"Flitch knows-eh!" the elf responded.

It was back to emptying the bag of cookies and avoiding her piercing gaze. A perplexing lump formed in her throat, and she swallowed hard, wondering how this diminutive creature would know she had met Kaya this morning, at the cafe, and talked about how they could get her cured.

This elf would know her every step whether it was in left or right. Let it be her wandering in the woods late night, this elf would know. Let it be her mundane grocery shopping, buying milk and bread. This elf would know. Just yesterday, she had gone out to change the oil in her neighbour: old lady Merth's car, and somehow, the elf had already anticipated her destination two blocks south. Its distant yet knowing eyes seemed to imply that it held more secrets than it cared to disclose.

"You seemingly know every freaking thing I do," she exclaimed, her voice teetering on the edge of curiosity and exasperation.

"Not the point-eh. He won't do," the elf declared with a mouthful of cookie, seemingly undisturbed by her unease as it settled into a more comfortable position on the countertop.

"Who? Kaya?" Summoning her resolve, she refused to waver. "I'll take my chances. I'm determined to find a solution, and he seems convincing enough."

A mischievous twinkle danced in the elf's eyes as it chuckled softly. "Just like that pied piper guy you consulted last time-eh?" it remarked playfully.

"He was a renowned necromancer," her glare intensified—a mix of annoyance and defiance etching its way across her features. "Besides, it's none of your concern anyway. I know what I'm doing," she retorted.

For a brief moment, the elf remained silent, observing her with an intensity that seemed to surpass its usual mischievous demeanour and Ada matching its energy without a fail.

"Eh -- As you continue to glare at me, perhaps consider visiting the Raven? He owes you one, Ada."

"Raven who?"

Flitch's eyes sparkled with a newfound enthusiasm but nothing came off its mouth, confusing Ada even more.

"Raven. Who?" She pressed, getting quite irritated.

After invisible stalkers, familiar shadows and impromptu marathons, Ada's patience was wearing thin. Riddles and puzzles were the last thing she needed. But the elf seemed to have decided on being inoperative tonight. With exasperation, her hand instinctively curled around the mint cookie pack.

"That does it!" In an act of cathartic release, she flung the cookie pack toward the elf. "You're of no use to me, I swear."

And her other hand readied the flower pot. "Get out of my sight before this pot here becomes more than just a threat. "

Though it should have been more accustomed to such behaviour by now, the elf flinched, momentarily stunned by the sudden outburst. In a moment it regained its composure, clutching the cookie pack that had just struck its face.

"He will find you, anyways-eh! Even if you don't seek him out. The Luna Pearl will demand it's true guardians when desperate times come,"

Flitch murmured as it slid down from the countertop, a rare seriousness etched across its face. Its mention of Luna Pearl only pulled yet another unwanted string.

"Leave." Her glare sharpened, focusing on the elf.

It averted its gaze, its attention drawn back to the scattered remnants of the mess it had made earlier on the countertop, before looking back up Ada. With a crooked-nailed hand plunged into the cookie pack it had collected before, Flitch slowly slid off the counter and silently retreated from the room.

Ada's eyes trailed behind it till the elf was out of sight. With a sigh of defeat, she let her arms drop, the weight of her actions settling upon her.

Over the past seven years, Flitch had been her only company, a peculiar presence that both annoyed and comforted her. In the solitude of her existence, it provided a distraction from the burden of her own thoughts.

She couldn't deny the strange sense of gratitude she held for the persistent being, even if it came in the form of an annoying elf.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

If there was one thing Ada feared, it wasn't ghosts, beasts, or demons. After all, someone born to Romersai would never fear any of those. But tonight there was something about that particular presence she met up the alley that gripped at her heart, that made her particularly afraid, yet she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, she mustered a moment of respite, sweeping away the mess with her hands. As her gaze wandered to the open window, the gentle rays of the full moon cast eerie patterns on the marble surface, intermingling with the dark shadows of the trees. She was sure that she left it closed before leaving in the morning.

'Flitch must have opened it,' she surmised with a heavy sigh. 'Do I even own this place anymore? That menace behaves like I'm living in its property. I pay the dam rent!'

Wrapping her arms around herself, trying to find solace in her own embrace, her eyes drew to the night sky outside the open window.

"It's full moon tomorrow. I wonder what Auden is doing." 

A/N: This story is being edited. If you read Luna Sanctum anywhere and then see Crepusculem instead just know it's the same place.

Random facts from different mythologies and cultures!

Cassandra (Greek Mythology): Cassandra, daughter of King Priam and Queen Hecuba of Troy, was blessed with the gift of prophecy but cursed by Apollo so that no one would believe her predictions. Her family's downfall during the Trojan War was partly due to her warnings being disregarded.