I don't know how long I've been walking for. Most of all, I could not care less. Unfortunately, I'm wheezing and my stomach is burning from multiple cramps. I let the weight of my exhausted body and my hefty backpack pull me down. Releasing the tension in my legs, I land onto a mossy tree log.

     " Comfy. " I sarcastically mutter to myself.

My throat is dry and sore, too. I'm panting and sweating. Honestly, I just feel like lying down in the muddy leaves and staying there for a month until everything is settled. Why can't other people worry, why don't they fix all this mess themselves?! But, of course, they can't. Those messes are all mine, aren't they? I scream out of despair, feeling blood smeared against my chewed lower lip. I might have gnawed it raw... My fingers dig into cavities of the former tree trunk, I sense ice filling them. Great, now my hands are stuck in icicles. I break them off violently, instead of using my powers to melt them away. I press my wrists to my temples, propping my elbows upon my knees. A burst of unbridled snow spews out from my palms and blows up in a mushroom-shaped explosion of snowflakes above me. I grit my teeth so violently that I hear a soft cracking sound from inside my mouth. I let out a hysterical laugh and pound my clenched right wrist against the hollowed-out tree until my arm's muscles are tired and I probably gave myself a thousand splinters. I brush my injured knuckles with my left-side fingers, heaving a raging sigh. I'm pathetic. What am I supposed to do?! Tell Detective Hua that I lied to her and admit everything..? Killing Winnie is the option that is the most pleasing to consider right now, but I clearly won't go to those lengths. Not yet, anyway.

I reluctantly raise from my improvised seat, kicking at fragments of frozen dirt and dead grass, my shoes tracing shapes in the freshly fallen snow. I shut my eyelids tight and draw a quivering breath, sliding my cold hands up my face. I dig my nails into my hairline, trying to stabilize my breathing pattern. Focus, Diamond... Focus.

I bring my right hand up and curl my fingertips in the direction of my palm. A long icicle gradually forms, levitating between my nails amidst a cloud of cold blue vapor. I grab it and throw it at the first tree in my field of vision. The sharp piece of ice breaks through the bark, sprinkling chips of ice and wood onto the ground. I feel a light smile tugging at the left corner of my mouth and a peaceful wintery feeling of indifference spreads inside my chest. I wiggle my fingers, they glow blue with frigid sparkles and another icicle sprouts from thin air. Within the minute, I stab virtually every tree surrounding me with my frozen projectiles. Instead of waiting for them to crystallize, I can now shake my hand or clench my fingers abruptly and an icicle appears, all ready to wound a tree with its unusually strong composition. I repeat the process until my whole body is basically a thousand times more sore than it already was, and I feel like I've been ambushed by a mob of tall, skinny, silver porcupines. I cease spinning on myself like a maniac and the icicle I held drops to my feet. Huffing, I get on my knees, supporting myself with my hands pressed against my thighs.

     " Am I interrupting? "

My head whisks to either side, in search of the friendly voice that startled me. Or, rather, in search of its owner. Between the ice cribbled trees to my right stands my remaining best friend.

     " Jackie... Hey. "

I let out a tired chuckle, standing up on my feet, one leg at a time. She's glancing at the ravaged circle of trees and the snowflakes covering most of the small clearing.

     " I'm glad I found you, I thought.., " she stops herself and looks up at the sky, wistfully.

     " Don't worry about me! " I manage to force my lips into a halfway grin. " So, how are you..? "

Even though I'm obviously hesitant, she directs her gaze back into my eyes and, not without sighing first, mutters an answer to my inquiry:

     " I honestly just wanna spend time with you right now... "

" I can't get through this without you, Diamond. " Her inner dialogue is heavy with despair and a wave of her grief smacks into me like a brutal slap to the face.

I quickly back out of her mind, slightly disoriented, but mainly perplexed. When was the last time I felt someone's emotions? I only peeked at her first layer, right? I believe she sent me that thought, anyways. This usually doesn't happen when a mind-reader stays on the edge of a brain... 

     " How about we just hang out in the library? I need to get a book... " I accompany my proposition with a short awkward laugh.

     " No problem. " She offers me a weak smirk with her reply, and we leave the muddy decimated tract of The Forest.

Instantly, the wooden tones and the silent atmosphere of the library soothe me. The high ceilings should make every single sound reverberate annoyingly through the entirety of the gigantic room, but magic aids us yet again. The supports of the roof are intricately carved with runes, and enchanted gems are embedded in the columns holding the complex wooden structure up to reduce any noise to a mere humming, which is individually crafted for the ears of the beholder, as not to disturb anyone who hears it. Only purposeful and conscious listening will annul the various spells' effects. We head for a table in the back, closer to the statement piece of our dear school library. The monumental stone fireplace is currently housing a crackling collection of elongated, graceful flames the color of a turquoise ocean. I notice the logs are shaped like the tentacles of an octopus and the sea creature's sculpted head is resting at the back of the hearth, soiled with soot. The beige stone chimney crawls up the library's back wall until it disappears beyond the ceiling, its mantel decorated by an array of portraits or simple landscape paintings, imprisoned by their definitely costly and absolutely elegant metallic frames. I don't think anyone hearing my thoughts right now could ever doubt of the extent of my appreciation and awe towards this library.

I let out a low sigh and clench my hands over the page I'm tiredly hunched over. I have been reading books regarding miscellaneous facts or experiences relating to The Pen for way too long. My eyes glide across the vintage paper, skipping over groups of two or three words at a time, the ink-blotted letters all mixing into one pitch black sea of swirls and lines. Suddenly, a sentence stands out against its hundreds of siblings:

" Cartographers or cartography enthusiasts are amongst those who yearn to employ The Pen for greater purposes than those which are regularly attributed to the mythical object. "

Anything that is traced or written with The Pen will appear, by igniting the artefact's Creation Magic. Events cannot be triggered and the past may not be altered by the enchanted tool, but... I wasn't aware, although I could have guessed, that there were other uses to The Pen. I keep reading, straightening my back with sudden interest:

" If an attempt has ever been made, it wasn't properly documented, since such an experience seems to have never occurred. Regardless, it is believed among a distinct and restricted consort of experts that The Pen could be utilized to modify maps. This possibility would manifestly bring forth countless predicaments along with unmeasurable opportunities for positively anyone with the means to exerce control upon The Pen. Those with nefarious intent roam the universe to a  regrettably higher degree than those who are virtuous. Avoiding destruction and utter chaos is perhaps the motivation of the experts who seek to shield the general population from this hypothesis. "

I stare at the page, aghast. This is it. It has to be what I was looking for; I wanted to understand The Pen's true power before helping my idiotic twin retrieve it from Camelia. For instance, I am now aware of the havoc that is possible if it lands into the wrong hands... Creation Magic alone isn't very daunting, but if maps can be altered with the pen's magical ink, anyone could annihilate kingdoms with a simple doodle. I wonder if Father knew all of this...

I shut the book tightly closed, clasping it against my side as I raise from my seat. Jackie tilts her head up at me, I notice her pupils are transitioning from green to a dark shade of blue.

     " Are we finally leaving? "

     " Yeah, it's getting late, we should eat. "

I slide my hand in my jeans' back pocket, prior to remembering who has my cellphone. My best friend had the same idea and tells me:

     " Yeah, it's already a quarter past four. "

     " Well, that explains why I'm starving..! Let's go! "

I shove the volume into my bag, discarding the usual step of informing a librarian of what I borrowed. I'm not feeling like the model student I used to portray myself as today.