The glaring light slowly subsided, leaving patches of white in my eyes. I blinked rapidly, focusing on the hazy figures before me. It seemed I was inside an old house, sitting inside what looked like a living room with walls entirely made of stone. Even the furniture and ornaments were made of either stone or clay.

The tarps covering the window flapped as the gentle wind blew into the room. The air smelled of the ocean. Some aromatic concoction brewed in a cauldron, sending white smoke swirling up the low, domed ceiling.

In front of me, sitting on the stone floor were two blond little girls. Small knives were in their hands. They were carving some kind of symbols on small pieces of dried clay while humming a tune together. One of the twins was smaller and skinnier, while the healthier-looking one had differently-colored eyes—one brown, the other, hazel.

 “Alessandra! Adrianna!” a woman’s voice called from outside the house.

The door opened and the woman in a blue flowing robe came in, momentarily tearing her gaze from the children to put down the jar she was balancing over her head. Like the children, she had long straw-colored hair, olive skin and big, clear brown eyes. I was so sure she was speaking in a foreign tongue, but I was able to understand her.

“You are playing with my runes again, are you not?” The woman raised an eyebrow at the sight of the symbols the girls carved into the stones. Hurriedly, she knelt with them, frantically picking up the stones.

The girls could only cringe while holding each other. Worry spread across the woman’s face.

“We are sorry, Mother.” It was the one with differently-colored eyes—Alessandra—who answered. “I… was the one who thought of creating healing runes seeing as Adrianna is incapable of leaving the house.”

Slap!

Alessandra fell to the floor, a hand on the cheek where her mother’s palm had just landed. She did not get up, keeping her silence as her sickly twin embraced her with a sob.

The woman stared at her own hands, her eyes wide with disbelief at what she had just done. It wasn’t long before she too was on her knees, hugging her daughters with tears streaming from her eyes.

“Forgive me…” She kissed Alessandra’s forehead, her hand stroking the girl’s golden hair. “The fault is all mine. Mother was just afraid that if the people find out about who we are and what we are capable of, they will try to hurt us again. Just like what had happened before. We have lost your father. I could not allow the same thing to happen to you.”

The paler of the twins lifted her face from her mother’s shoulder and asked, “Does this mean we have to move again to another village, Mother?”

A fond smile forced its way on the woman’s face. “No, Adrianna. This is our home now.” Wiping the tears on her daughters’ faces, she pulled away from them. “However, you must swear never to play with my things again.”

Adrianna nodded, her brows knitting. “Including the Scry and the charms and the healing herbs?”

“Yes,” the woman replied. “You do not wish for the villagers to chase us out of this place again, do you?”

Both the girls mumbled “No, Mother,” in unison.

It was Alessandra who appeared halfhearted about their mother’s request. Her thoughts filled my head like they were mine. In her mind, she kept questioning herself. Why would the villagers try to hurt them? They weren’t bad people. They were just… different.

In a heartbeat, the whole place whirred and warped. I was inside Alessandra’s house again. But this time, it was dark.

Alessandra sat on the floor, her heavily-detailed skirt spread about her. Mechanically, she carved runes on the floor with a knife. Through the veil of long flaxen hair covering her face, I could tell she had aged into a young woman. Yet, she had retained her scrawny form under that white flowing dress. Ugly marks ran around her neck and just below her jaw line. Some were merely scars and bruises. Most were raw ligature marks.

Cautiously, I approached her.

“Alessandra?” My voice sounded far away. “Why are you showing me these things?”

She didn’t look up at me. There wasn’t any indication that she had heard me either. Her shoulders shook. Tears streamed down her cheeks, leaving wet dots on the runes she was feverishly engraving. The tiny runes were arranged like an ‘I’.

“The First,” I mumbled, my mind racing.

Suddenly, the door flew open, spewing out a few armed men in metal breastplates, armguards and greaves. Two of them barged in and forcibly dragged Alessandra out of the house, the top of her bare feet being scraped against the rough concrete as they did.

“Wait!” I cried out, but none of them paid any attention to me.

I followed them. All I could see everywhere were rectangular structures with flat roofs, all of them built with large rough slabs of rock and molded clay.

A lot of people waited outside, shouting angrily at Alessandra. All of them wore strange clothing—belted tunics and trousers for men and long dresses with fitted bodices for women. The women were clad in long flowing linen secured on the shoulders with ornamental clasps and cinched around the waist with fitted bodices. The men however wore belted tunics and trousers. A few had some kind of drape pinned from their shoulders.

I’m definitely not in Kansas anymore, I grumbled inwardly.

From the crowd, I heard a middle-aged woman shout “Mágissa!” before throwing a rock towards Alessandra. It hit her on the head. She didn’t recoil. She just kept her head down, her face hidden by the tangle of light-colored hair.

The crowd was getting out of control now, pushing at each other to get closer to her. Some tried to snatch her hair and claw her face. All of a sudden, more stones were already being hurled at her direction, hitting her and the men restraining her. But unlike the men who were wearing thick armor and head protection, the rocks didn’t bounce off her olive skin.

Muffled whimpers came out of her lips. Blood began to trickle on the pavement, leaving a smeared trail as they continued to drag her along.

I saw her lips move, to whisper “I accept,” in some language that I somehow now understood.

When I tried to tell them to stop, nothing came out of my mouth. My voice seemed to have disappeared. In the end, all I could do was look away. And when I did, I saw a young man coming out from the door of the girl’s house. He lifted his arm and pointed a finger at me. I saw something on the back of his left hand—a capital ‘I’ tattoo. And I thought, Cairo.

With a cold smile, he crouched on the ground to run his fingers on Alessandra’s trail of blood. Then, he smeared it on the contract that had magically appeared in his hand.

When I blinked, I found myself sitting inside a cave. Slivers of light crept through the crevices. The waves rhythmically lapped on the floor, a few feet away from a spitting fire. Beside me was Adrianna, skin and bones tossing and turning in a makeshift cot. She let out a moan of pain, arching her back as she did.

From the corner of the cave, Alessandra stood in the middle of a pentagram carved into the ground. Inscribed around it where hundreds of symbols.

As she began to mutter incomprehensibly, the symbols on the ground began to glow, moving around her. She gave her ailing sister a fleeting glance before taking a knife and ran the tip of its blade into the palm of her hand. Once her blood touched the pentagram, the symbols glowed more fiercely. One by one, they floated from the ground and spiraled upwards.

Alessandra dropped to her knees and frantically recited an enchantment, eyes shut, rocking back and forth on her heels. The symbols drifted towards Adrianna, crawling from the back of her hand and disappearing under her sleeves.

Adrianna stopped tossing. Her grimace slowly disappeared, her breathing calm.

Panting, Alessandra approached her sister. She brushed the lock of hair covering Adrianna’s face with a relieved smile. “I shall fix everything, Adrianna. I swear I will be back and then we will always be together.”

Together. Alessandra’s voice lingered in my ears like a lullaby.

When I opened my eyes, I was standing in what looked like a public place. It was square and empty except for the wooden platform in the middle. Beside it were piles of kindling as tall as me.

The angry crowd came in a unified procession. They were all shouting, “Magissa!” and I understood just then what they meant: witch. Pitchforks and torches were being passed all around. I could almost smell the bloodlust from the villagers as they pushed and nudged each other to get a better view.

The crowd went wild as a group of guards came, dragging the skinny girl in white dress. They clawed on her face, pulled her hair, jabbed her with the butt of their pitchforks. By the time they reached the platform, one of the guards had to carry her over his shoulder like a sack of flour before dropping her to the floor.

Alessandra could barely push herself up.

A guard pulled her up by her hair, forcing her to her knees. Her brown eye was swollen shut. Blood dripped from the cut below her brow. Still, she faced the spectators with a brave face.

“Take a close look at this monster,” announced the burly guard with the beard large enough to board a small animal. I figured it must be a time from when razors weren’t yet invented. “The witch who has cursed our village, who took the lives of our beloved and brought back the dead!”

“Hang her!” someone yelled.

Screams and shouts of approval filled the piazza, driving the villagers in a vicious frenzy.

The bearded guard raised a hand, commanding attention. With a sneer, he tilted Alessandra’s head back so that the ligature marks were more visible. “Thrice, the witch had been hanged, yet it still walks among us! I say we burn her to ashes!”

That incited a rumble of cheer and applause all around. It was unbelievable how inhuman people could be. The applause only became louder when the guards dragged Alessandra to the piles of kindling and tied her to the post in the middle.

I elbowed my way to the front. But no matter how I slinked through the crowd, it looked like I could never get there fast enough.

The villagers began lighting the kindling around Alessandra, laughing as they did. The flames spread quickly, licking her clothes, enveloping her in an embrace that slowly and excruciatingly consumed her.

As the skin on her cheek began to blister, Alessandra’s hazel eye peered at me from the distance. Then, she mouthed “Help.”

“No!!!” I screamed, closing my eyes, pressing my hands over my ears in an attempt to muffle Alessandra’s wails, the crackle of twigs burning into ashes, the laughter of her murderers. Yet, they resounded in my head like a broken record. My skin crawled.

Before I knew it, I was crying. “Stop. Stop. Please stop…” I pleaded. Only, the voice that came out of my throat wasn’t mine. It was Alessandra’s.

I was her. And we were burning alive.

“I was… only… trying to… help,” she croaked as much as her scorched lips would allow. Her tears bubbled away before they could form.

The pain set in quick. No words could describe it. It was ten times more painful than drowning. All I wanted was for it to end, but the merciless seconds turned into minutes. And when at last, the pain was gone as with all of Alessandra’s skin, I was forced to watch myself be ravaged by the flames while my eyes still worked. And when her eyes began to burn, I inhaled the flames and it burned my insides.

Still, I could hear the pyre sputtering with rage. After a while, I was nothing but ashes. And from ashes I rose. A phoenix reborn. Yet, this mark on the side of my neck prevented me from keeping my promise to my sister. She and I could be together no more.

She was me. She was my soul and her thoughts became my thoughts along with her primordial melancholy.

Again, we were inside her hiding place. I realized now that it was a cave. We sat on the floor near the fire, staring at each other for what seemed like ages. Sometimes, I would even hear the waves from outside. I knew it was all an illusion though. A make-believe imitation of Alessandra’s reminiscence. Because all these time, the cot stayed empty.

For the longest time, I kept my silence, wallowing in my thoughts for answers that never came. Whenever I tried to escape, she would hiss at me, baring her now mottled teeth. But the cave had no openings. I had no way out.

Her mismatched eyes burned wild with hate every time she threw me back into the corner. She was turning. So was I. Which brought me to my last conclusion: it may be too late for us.

“Please, let me go,” I pleaded to her.

With an awkward speed, she crawled across the cave to me. Her hazel eye peeked at me through the tangle of her filthy hair. Then, her bony hand moved to my face.

I cringed as she ran her sharp fingernails on my cheek. In her world, I was powerless and I learned that the hard way.

“Please… Alessandra,” I whispered, my lips quivering. “Vincent needs me.”

For the first time, I caught a flicker of curiosity in her constantly vacant eyes. Her brows puckered as if in question. She clutched the sides of my head with her hands and forced me to look her directly in the eyes. They were depthless, all-knowing yet chaotic at the same time.

One second, the cave was spinning. Then another, I was falling.

My back hit something hard. Wide-eyed, I turned to my sides and curled coughing. I pressed a hand on my mouth to suppress the fit, only to find them tied to the bedposts.

A gentle hand rubbed my back.

Once the fit had subsided, I looked at my palm. There was black blood on it.

“Aramis,” a gruff male voice came from behind me. “Are you alright?”

It was Byron Flynn who helped me up to a sitting position. He rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt and carefully placed pillows under my head before sitting on the side my bed.

He was cleanly shaven now, but he kept a little of the sideburns that emphasized the angles of his face. His long titian mane was tied loosely over his nape, making the pair of pointed ears visible on both sides of his head.

“I’m okay,” I lied, my dry lips cracking. My eyes roamed the room “Where are we?”

His big amber eyes trained on me questioningly. “You don’t remember anythin’?”

I shook my head, feeling stiff. “Me and Vincent… we were going to Halo and—“

“You sure, you’re… yourself?”

“I… I guess…”

For several seconds, he leaned over to me and took a closer look at my left eye. “Good. They’re both blue.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Your… err. One of your…” He frantically gestured at his eyes.

“My eye?”

“Aye… It turned green.” Cautiously, he untied my hands and feet. “I’m truly sorry, Aramis. We had no choice but to restrain you. You were…” He fell silent.

“I was turning.” I finished it for him, biting my lip. “Did… Did Vincent know?”

The grim look on his face answered for me. “We know it’s not you who’s been thrashin’ all day and night, and wailin’ and wantin’ to slaughter us all, Aramis. Should’nae worry yourself ‘bout it. You did quite a few feats, though. Both marvelous and… frightenin’… What I mean is, who knew our Aramis would be able to conquer a swarm by herself? That, and err…” He mustered a toothy grin before pursing his lips.

“W-what else did I do, Byron Flynn?” I demanded, taking his hand. “Where’s Vincent?”

Byron Flynn looked down like a puppy who had been scolded.

My body was sore. And it really did feel like I had been struggling all day and night. The ropes left hideous marks on my wrists and ankles, but that wasn’t what really bothered me. It was the horrors that I could have possibly committed while I was out that they even resorted to restraints.

“Wait, Aramis!”

When I tried to stand, my knees buckled. I dropped to the floor, feeling drained and lightheaded. With a grunt, I pushed myself up. But my elbows seemed to have turned into jelly.

Byron Flynn was already by my side before I could fall on my face. He caught me by my shoulders and slipped an arm under my thighs. Effortlessly, he lifted me up and placed me back in bed.

As he carefully replaced the sheets over me, he glanced up at me with worry. “You shouldn’t force yourself, Aramis. You need to rest and recover.”

I stared at my hands. “Where’s Vincent?”

He sat beside me so that my arm rested on his just like when he was still a humongous fox-dog creature. “You have been out for two weeks, Aramis. A lot has come about, but we don’t blame you for anythin’. You’ve no control over your actions.”

“Please, Byron Flynn…”

Sighing deeply, he said “After you’ve defeated the wraiths, the master attempted to revert you back to your senses. You’ve overwhelmed him, it seems. That was why he decided to cancel the mission and bring you back here in Halja. He did’nae make it, though without a few… injuries.”

“H-how bad?” My throat swelled.

He shrugged pretentiously. “Just nicks and scrapes, here and there. Naught to agonize about.”

My brows knitted in panic. Obviously, he was hiding something from me.

He tapped the tip of his boots on the floor and got up. “Alright, alright. I’ll take you to him.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey there! It's been a while! If your reading this, then let me give you my biggest thanks for being patient. You people are the coolest readers ever! So as you all know, I will be updating this twice a month every 2nd and 3rd Sundays (more if I'm really, really happy with the feedbacks!) So yeah... Free cyber tacos for everyone who read this and three cartwheels for every vote! Yay! See ya soon.

PS. the video to your right  and this chapter is a tribute to Naruto's epic and succeful ending! NaruHina FTW!!!      SHIM XXX