The rising of the morning sun called in the Day of the Souls, whatever that meant. Hazel pushed herself up, checking her bandages as she did each morning to make sure they were safe. Surprisingly, her fall from the day before didn't weaken the bandages, which was a relief. Having to get them replaced so soon would mean a chance of Siyan finding out what she'd seen the day before.

Hazel joined Nedoza in the adjacent room as they desperately searched for a gown that would fit.

"You're so small, nothing is going to fit!" Nedoza complained as she flipped around a sleeve falling off Hazel's shoulder.

"I'm taller than average on Earth," Hazel muttered.

"Well, you're not here. We'll just need to pin some things and you'll be all set. I can't have you going to the ballroom wearing what you've been."
Hazel grumbled. She'd never been one for dresses, but the red and black of the gown Nedoza pulled out next caught her eye.

"Can I wear that one?"

Nedoza looked taken aback.

"You sure? I was just moving it out of the way," she said with a hesitant smile.

"I like the colors, and it looks about the right size," Hazel explained, "do you not want me to wear it?"

The woman frowned, but eventually gave in.

"It's just strange thinking that you're wearing my old one. I last wore it during a dance with Mother, and haven't touched it since."

Hazel gave a sympathetic nod and held the dress carefully in her arms.

"Then I'll take extra special care of it today," she said, placing a hand over her heart.

As she gazed at her reflection in the mirror, Hazel could hardly believe the girl in her reflection was her. This Hazel's face was decorated with makeup imitating Nedoza's tattoos, though much more simple in design.She wore a beautiful black gown whose top puffed out loosely and tucked in nicely at the waist by a wide red ribbon which fell down to her knees. The glittery skirt of the dress just barely touched the floor, completely obscuring her feet. For the first time since she'd left Earth, she truly believed she was beautiful.

Nedoza wore a tight-fitting dress of red with gold patterns which accentuated her gentle curves. Her long black hair was done up in a curved bun secured by a bejeweled net. She ran her hand along her tattoos with a gentle smile.

"I hate the Day of the Souls," she said, "though it's nice to dress up like this."

"Why do you hate it?" Hazel asked, turning to her friend.

"It's basically worshipping the Jalaiko Empire and the Gevastian Souls. Sure, they're the reason my people are still around, but they're not exactly the greatest people around."

Hazel gave a confused expression.

"Ah, right. You haven't heard of it, have you?"

"I mean..."

Her mind drifted away to the day before.

Jalaiko drove me out, the woman had said.

"Sort of," Hazel said.

"Well, do you know why the Gyontanik people, like me, are so different from our Nafen brothers, like Dymo?"

Hazel shook her head.

"He said something about not being Altered, but that's all I really remember."

"Alteration is what separates us Gyontans from the Nafen. We can take our souls and drive their energy outwards," Nedoza said, forming a small golden sphere in her hand, "but they cannot. The Jalaiko Empire gave us the Verita pathway of the soul in exchange for our neutrality in their expansion, so we can take memories and turn them into objects. We can extract memories from anything we touch with enough training. But the Unaltered cannot. Their souls are static."

"Is that why you have this day?" Hazel asked.

"We take this day to thank those who Altered us and to pledge to remain neutral in any of their attempts. They don't take our last bit of land, and we don't fight back."

Hazel looked at her own palms.

"You're Altered too, I saw it when you opened the door back at Dyloraz," Nedoza said quietly, "now it's just a matter of time before you find out why."

"And the Gevastians? What's that?"

"The ceremony will explain it all better, just be patient."

~~~

Hazel and Nedoza were the first into the grand palace ballroom, making their way across the floor to the small group of thrones engraved with names. Nedoza ran her fingers over her name before sitting down and adjusting her dress.

Siyan and Nedoza sat on opposite sides of the king and queen's thrones, but next to Nedoza there was a third.

Asrian, it read.

"Who's Asrian?" Hazel wondered aloud.

Nedoza tensed up. Her hands clenched into fists and relaxed as she took a deep breath.

"Just sit there, Father will have a fit if you don't spend this with us."

Siyan and Liyovan were the next to walk in. Siyan held his ceremonial sword by his side, and Liyovan gave Hazel a kind nod before moving to his throne. He completely ignored the empty one next to him.

"I see you've found your place, Eternas," Liyovan said.

Hazel froze at the mention of that name.

"How did you-"

He pulled a golden sphere out of the pocket of his elegant coat with a smirk.

"I know everything I need to know about you thanks to my lovely son," he said.

"Why didn't you just take that memory yourself?" Hazel asked monotonously.

All that ran through her mind was the fact that Siyan Tridfai, a man she barely knew, had plunged grabbing hands deep within her memory to extract the name that Dymo had called her.

Liyovan did not respond, simply chuckling and ignoring Hazel's quickly rising panic. Nedoza placed a gentle hand on Hazel's shoulder, making her body relax.

"It's about to start," she said, "just sit tight. You'll be okay."

"This isn't about nerves," Hazel mumbled, trailing off before she could finish her sentence.

More and more people began to trickle into the ballroom, each wearing simple gowns that weren't nearly as flattering as the ones the royal family wore. Hazel glanced down at her own dress, suddenly feeling very out of place. It became very obvious in that moment that she was the only human in a room full of Nedoza's own people.

As the ballroom doors shut with a loud thud, King Liyovan stood up, looking around at what had to be the entire remains of his kingdom.

"Welcome to the one thousandth Day of the Souls," he said, lifting his palms upwards.

The crowd clapped quietly, but they were soon silenced by Liyovan's glaring gaze.

"One thousand years ago to the day, the Gaiyonai Nations of Kotimyad fell into a worldwide conflict. Only the Gyontanik people stayed neutral," he recited, his voice full of emotion, "and as such, as the Jalaiko Empire moved to take the land of Kotimyad, we were the only ones to have a say. The great Soul Vantherne took mercy on us, and in return for our neutrality, they gave us the greatest gift. Today we thank Vantherne and his Gevastians for allowing us to survive, erecting mountains around us so that we may remain in our homeland. Though these past thousand years have come with a loss in our numbers, we are still proud, and we are still thankful for everything that has been done for us."

Liyovan motioned to the crowd, which fell into applause with just a flick of his hand. The sheer power that the man held was indescribable, commanding a kingdom without a single word.

"And this day is a special day for another reason. Today, we are joined by perhaps what could become the most dangerous person in the Multiverse," he said, motioning to Hazel.

Whatever color was left in Hazel's already pale face left with those words. She gripped onto the arms of the throne and glanced around the room. It was as if the walls were moving and warping around her.

She? Hazel? Dangerous?

"And she has agreed to protect us as we join the glorious empire that has given us so mu-"

"I said nothing like that!" Hazel said, standing up on wobbly legs.

The kingdom gasped in unison. Hazel could barely stay upright, leaning a hand on Nedoza's throne, but still she persisted.

"Who even are you?"

She felt a warmth building in her chest with her rage, a tingling following a network to the surface of her skin. Her vision turned a shade of bright blue as the feeling intensified.

"Hazel, calm down!" Nedoza begged.

Liyovan chuckled, watching intently as an aura surrounded Hazel's entire body. Her soul raged at his words, his lies, as she realized just how much he had manipulated his people that looked up to him like a god.

"See? She has not received an ounce of training, and her untapped power still comes through like a volcano!"

"I said, who are you?"

Hazel felt Nedoza's arms on her shoulders, but she pushed them off without a second thought.

"Your instincts are impeccable," Liyovan said, his voice dropping into a growl, "but you will not ruin this day."

"You're not Liyovan... You never were. He- he died long ago, didn't he?"

Hazel didn't even know where the words came from, but as she looked through the aura that surrounded her, she saw that it took over the pocket in which the king held his memories.

Liyovan's face fell.

"That's why you couldn't take my memories, isn't it? You're no Gyontan... you're..."

"Tell me, then," he said, pulling a sphere out of his opposite pocket and pushing it into the aura, "who am I?"

A white-haired ghostly figure appeared in front of her, with skin blue as the Earth's sky. He opened his bright red eyes and grinned, showing his shark-like teeth. She did not know how, but she knew his name.

"You're Vantherne himself. Liyovan died forty years ago."

She could hardly believe her own words. Vantherne, a Soul that, from what she'd heard, had Altered an entire population, was right there in front of her in a body that wasn't his to take.

"I was going to have to leave this year anyways, but I guess you've made that happen earlier than I'd expected."

Vantherne stepped closer to Hazel, Liyovan's reanimated hand wrapping around her neck. Hazel's breaths became unsteady. She backed away again and again, but he kept moving along with her.

"If you're not with Jalaiko, you're against me," he growled, "and we can't have that, can we?"

A voice piped up from the crowd.

"Your majesty, look out!"

Vantherne whipped around, but it was too late. Siyan had already plunged his curved sword deep through the chest of the man he'd thought was his father for so long.

"For Liyovan," he whispered as he twisted it and pushed it deeper.

Hazel fell backwards, her dress and body stained with the blood of another. Her lip quivered, her eyes darted around, she couldn't move. Her already warped vision began to fade to black as her mind drifted away to somewhere else. All she could hear was the screaming of the crowd and a horrid ringing in her ears before her consciousness was taken from her.