"Seiren!"

From far away, a young woman's voice called. Mother?

"Seiren!"

No, it was too musical. Mother's voice was deeper and almost always a little hoarse from shouting at her and Madeleine. This was a different, lighter, but still somewhat familiar.

"Stay with me!"

Someone was pushing her, tapping her cheeks. Another pressed on her stomach. She blinked, her eyes opening but not seeing. Her breathing strengthened as consciousness returned, but so did all her other senses. Pain seared across her belly.

A shadow loomed over her. Scarlet eyes glowed, filled with wrath, and a monstrous mouth opened. Long claws extended and scraped over her raw abdomen. Her blood gushed onto the floor.

"Don't!" she screamed, flailing. "Get away from me!"

Her breathing came in rapid rasps. Its strong arm pinned her down. She kicked out. Voices shouted in the distance. She couldn't make out anything. This was a horrible mistake, an experiment she should never have participated in. The panic came back and hit her like a train straight in the chest. She was going to die.

Seiren threw out her hand blindly; the movement was sluggish but the magic was there, manifesting as flames. She couldn't see it, but felt the heat along her skin. It did nothing, snuffed at once by the monster. More shadows moved in the distance. There were so many of them! She screamed, terrified, preparing more magic. Her mind wouldn't clear, invaded by the fear. She thrust it aside and tugged at the remains of the magic.

Something hot pulsed over her chest, reining in her terror against her will. She fought against it, but it swarmed over her like a thick, warm blanket, dampening all her emotions. She struggled, but darkness sank in, hugging her tight. Death consumed her.

Her eyelids were so heavy. She pushed them open. It was light, but she could only see blurs. She blinked, her eyes taking their time to refocus. She reached up to rub her eyes and had to wrestle to drag her arm from the constriction of some bedsheets. Was this heaven?

Heaven didn't have such coarse bed sheets, strong scent of burning oranges, and dirty windows, surely.

She blinked again. The pale ochre light from a yellow rune came into focus above her head. The rather nauseating scent of antiseptic fluid mixed with burning oranges filled her nostrils. Death shouldn't give off the smell of heretics.

She gasped and sat up. The world came into stark focus. Pain blasted from her stomach. She let out a guttural groan, clutching it. Seiren pushed herself back so that her back leant against the bed board. Her arms trembled, straining under her body weight. Cold sweat settled on her forehead and over her lips. She groaned again, the room spinning.

Her eyes darted around the place. Unfamiliar, white, cluttered. Books lay splayed across the shelves and four walls stared back at her. She swung her legs over the sides and almost emptied the contents of her stomach over her thighs. Biting her lip and swallowing the acid burning the back of her throat, she pushed herself off, grabbed the side of the cabinet, missed, and crashed onto the floor.

Her vision nearly went black. The tiled floor was cold beneath her arms. A dull headache drummed against the back of her eyeballs. A door slammed open in the distance.

"Oh blast! Felora, you were meant to look after her!"

"I didn't see her, okay? I was eating!"

"You idiot!"

The screech made Seiren wince. Her limbs lost all their strength; all she could do was scrape her fingers across the ground. There was a small draught that cleared the muddle in her mind.

"Get Mage Rummage!"

Rummage. That name rang a bell. The headache continued to pound in Seiren's head, making any coherent thought difficult. Her legs tingled and numbed, probably due to her awkward position on the hard floor. Strong hands grasped Seiren by the shoulders and flipped her over before she found herself leaving the ground. She flailed, catching something or someone with an 'oof!'.

"Stop it, you little rascal!" cried whoever she'd caught. "That's the second time in a week!"

She paused, the whirlwind of panic and fear slowing. The scent of burnt oranges was soothing. Those heavy arms dumped her back on the bed. A massive figure loomed over her, his face bathed in shadows – or was it because Seiren's eyes were blurred again? She said something; the words mixed together and sounded foreign to her ears.

"Seiren!"

Something blonde and silky-looking appeared to her right. With eyes slow as syrup, Seiren turned, her pupils not focusing on the new creature.

"Are you all right? You'd lost a lot of blood."

Her words didn't make sense. Her voice was musical with a lilt. Someone dabbed at her forehead; it stung with the fury of a thousand bees. Seiren yelped and thrashed, only to be pinned down again.

"She kicked me in the face again!" said someone in the background with a whine.

"Shush, Felora! You were meant to keep an eye on her!" Soft hands patted Seiren from head to toe. "Good, no bony injuries. Seems like just a graze on your forehead. You still with me?"

Seiren blinked. The hands prodded the front of her face. She flinched when the shadow flew across her view. For a moment, she saw the large broad-shouldered figure in the rain facing off the blue-eyed woman who'd stabbed her in the stomach. His lifeless green eyes had flicked to Seiren before focusing on the assassin again.

"She tried to kill me," she said in a hoarse voice. She coughed. The tearing pain ripped across her stomach again. It was as if a long-clawed hand raked its fingers along her insides and squeezed her heart. She clutched her abdomen, coughing some more, bringing up only phlegm.

"Who?"

Seiren's eyes focused, recognising the glossy blonde hair and the long-lashed grey eyes. Loren Rummage's hands glowed white as she pressed them to Seiren's chest, warming her from the inside. Already she could feel the grip lessening. Behind her were two military guards in their vomit-green uniforms. One had the unmistakable sign of a close meeting with the heel of a boot upon her face; one lens of her glasses was cracked. The other guard was broad and unassuming, a stoic expression on his face.

"I don't know. She... she came out of nowhere. It was a woman. She asked weird questions."

Loren didn't press further, her brow furrowing as she worked her chaos magic along Seiren's wounds.

"We found this next to you," said the one called Peron, holding a clear bag with the hint of a violet rune upon it. Within the bag was a throwing knife, its sharp end covered in a flaking brown substance. Nausea swirled in the pits of Seiren's gut again.

"Embedded in her stomach, you mean," muttered the short female who also accompanied Loren. She glared at Peron.

Loren sat back, sweat on her forehead. She wiped the beads off with the back of her hand and let out a puff of air.

"Well, I think you'll be fine. Physically, anyway." She cocked her head at Seiren. "Mind telling me why I find you half dead in the rain in the outskirts?"

Seiren turned her head to the other side, her cheeks burning. Her head was still a little fuzzy. Loren's voice was not accusatory, merely concerned and motherly. If she'd spoken to Seiren like that last week she would have made some sarcastic remark.

"Hey, grumpy. Mage Rummage saved your butt."

"Want me to kick yours?" she snapped. Peron guffawed as Felora flushed, adjusting her glasses with trembling fingers.

"Felora, Peron, give us some privacy," said Loren. "And pass me some of that medicine."

Peron frowned.

"Mage Rummage..."

"She's a fellow mage. Go and wait outside."

Muttering under his breath, the two exited the room, closing the door with a snap. Two seconds later, it reopened and a hand extended, holding a steaming mug. Loren took it and passed it to Seiren; it turned out the contents were the source of the scent of burnt oranges. Orange peels floated in a dark, medicinal-smelling liquid. She sniffed it. Alone, it smelled heavenly. Mixed in with the nose-tingling antiseptic that coated the whole room, she could do without.

Loren sat on the edge of her bed, watching her with those piercing grey eyes. Her luscious hair was perfectly straight today, falling over her shoulders. She was dressed in the excrement-brown skirted uniform without the mage's cloak, a dark contrast to the sterile white room. She seemed sincere, non-judgemental, and waited for Seiren to talk without any further questions, which was what Seiren needed after the most dreadful week.

She opened her mouth but her voice broke on the first syllable. She slammed the mug onto the dresser next to her. Hot, fat tears spilled out of her eyes. Her mouth curved down at the edges and she bent her head down, sobbing. The tears splashed onto her white bed sheets; her hands curled into fists, grasping the folds. Chills ran up her spine and over her shoulders, spread down her fingers. The despair crushed her chest. Her eyes burned with anger and frustration. It was shameful, losing her cool in front of Loren Rummage.

If Loren had hugged her, Seiren would have slapped her away. It was almost as if Loren knew. She just took Seiren's fingers and rubbed her knuckles, not saying anything. Seiren's nasal mucus mixed with her tears, turning everything salty and gelatinous, falling like sticky glue onto her lap. Loren passed her a handkerchief. Seiren scrubbed her face roughly as if wanting to tear off her crying face.

"Madeleine." Seiren closed her eyes. She would have to explain to Loren now why her sister was still alive and what happened that night. She couldn't see herself going through with it.

"Your sister in the amulet? I'm sorry." Loren bit her lip, holding a hand to her mouth. "I... don't mean to pry. I looked into your records and saw what happened six years ago."

"You and bloody Rowan Woodbead." Seiren couldn't summon much conviction to sound angry.

"Where... where is Madeleine?" Loren said gently.

Seiren turned away. "I threw her away."

Loren blinked, her mouth falling open.

"Your research – what was Madeleine so against?"

"Human experimentation." She couldn't meet Loren's eyes. She heard a soft intake of breath.

"She told me she's had enough. She didn't want me to continue researching for a way to bring her back. She wanted to die. I didn't want to hear. I needed to make up for what I did back then. I don't deserve to live but there's nothing I can do about that. But Madeleine doesn't – won't let me repent for it."

"Oh, Seiren," Loren said softly. Seiren didn't meet her eyes, fixating on the lamp on her bedside. Also white.

"I threw her away and ran. I..." She squeezed her eyes shut. "I... I need to get her back. Please let me go."

"Not in your state. Your laboratory's in lockdown anyway; nobody can go in or out. She's not going anywhere. Focus on healing yourself first."

Seiren bit her lip, her heart an aching hollow. She had never been apart from Madeleine for so long. An endless torrent of unpleasant possibilities swarmed her head. And beyond that, she could still see those unforgiving blue eyes.

"That woman came after me. Said something about..." Seiren frowned. The woman's thin lips moved in her mind's eye, beneath that hood. Most of her words dissolved in the cascade of raindrops. "Said if I wanted to overthrow King Pollin."

Loren sucked in a breath again. "What did you say?"

Seiren snorted, again without much conviction. "I ignored her. She attacked me. She was going to kill me, but... I can't remember what happened next."

"She stabbed you."

"No kidding." Seiren held her hand against her belly. Beneath the hospital gown and layers of dressing there once was a gushing wound from the throwing knife. "But why? I've never met her before... I don't think. I don't think I've ever upset anyone enough for them to stab me."

Loren's silence prompted Seiren to look up. She was frowning, staring unseeingly at the curtains that were drawn against the open windows; the skirts billowed with each breeze. Seiren narrowed her eyes.

"You know who she is."

Loren chewed her lip, breathing heavily through her nose.

"I didn't see her, but..."

"But?"

"There's only one state mage who uses throwing knives in this manner. Halen Ashworth. Her family used to be metalworkers so she has access to a large collection of knives and other metal weapons. She specialises in distant rune activations but she's quite deadly even without magic."

"No kidding," Seiren said again under her breath, leaning back on her bed and wincing when her abdominal muscles contracted. "What the hell is a state mage doing attacking someone like me?"

Loren's face darkened. Seiren got the feeling there was something bigger going on that Loren wasn't keen to share.

"Just focus on getting better for now. I've realigned your energy to focus in healing. You'll be tired and your brain wouldn't work so well for a few days, but your wounds should be all right."

"You realigned my what?"

Loren smiled. "Chaos magic. I'll teach you some time. You'll have a flair for it, I think."

Remember to vote!