4: The Mirror

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Remnya

Clouds vanished as the sun tickled Remnya's pale cheeks. She was glued to the car window, fascinated by the landscape. The road ahead was a thin line squeezed by immense meadows and a row of dark orange mountains on the horizon. At their bottom, the city of Crysalton rose like a dark sea of concrete and steel.

A turbulent river of rust-colored waters separated Crysalton from her birthplace—the town of Fallen Star. An immense metropolis guarded by an imposing mountain chain, climbing up to the highest slopes, painting the iron rocks with a grayish-blue tone.

The road took a steep descent into the city, where the first skyscrapers rose in the distance, dwarfing the tallest building.

A smile drew across Remnya's face. The place she had always admired from a treetop was now beneath her, embracing her into its arms.

The noon turned into evening as those monsters of steel obscured the sky. The quiet road became a busy boulevard accompanied by the roaring of engines. A faint smell of coffee and fuel fumes filled the car.

Stores and theaters glowed with dazzling LED lights and realistic holograms advertising rare products. Loud music, vendors yelling, vehicles roaring, claxons; everything was a symphony of chaos.

The slow traffic allowed Remnya to examine the crowded streets. People rushed like ants, ignoring the rampant technology around them. Their eyes were too focused on their phones, and their senses were numbed by habit.

Leaving the tumult behind, they entered a fancy neighborhood. The overwhelming technology ceased as the streets became empty.

Their car slowed in front of an iron gate. It opened, allowing them into the property. They advanced through a narrow street surrounded by violet Empress trees casting uneven shadows over moist grass.

"What is this place?" Remnya asked, not taking her eyes away from the window.

"This is the Lovecraft Mansion, young girl," Marcus said. "Your new home."

"What?" Her jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

Marcus nodded at her through the rear-view mirror.

"No way!" She rushed to comb her hair with her fingers and adjusted her ribbon.

"There." Marcus pointed at the front. Remnya gasped as she spotted a mansion glimmering at the end of the street.

They circled a fountain with a phoenix statue that shot water in different shapes, drawing rainbows under the sunlight, and finally came to a halt in front of the mansion. Long stairs guarded by two stone lionesses led to the entrance where a woman waited for them.

Marcus opened the back door for Remnya and bowed to the mysterious woman. "She is Lady Magenta," he said, presenting her with a polite gesture of his hand.

The woman walked toward them, tiny diamonds dazzling on her heels with every elegant step. She leaned forward and took Remnya's face between her hands. "You're so beautiful," the lady said.

Remnya stared at Magenta's piercing green eyes. She was imposing and taller than her. The silk of her purple dress was tight on her curvy body, displaying a perfect figure. Her hair fell smoothly on her waist, shining with a garnet color.

Magenta scanned Remnya's horns and tail. "You are a Nephilim, right, my dear?" She caressed her left horn.

"I am not." Remnya leaned away from her touch. It was a new beginning; she didn't want to be seen as a freak again.

Magenta grinned, amused by her reaction. "What's your name?"

"Remnya."

"Such an exotic name. Marvelous!" The lady brushed a strand of hair aside. "Do you know why you are here?"

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