The girl sat in the darkness.
It felt familiar in a way that she had lived in it for a very long time.
She sat alone in the darkness, doing nothing, looking at nothing, and thinking of nothing.
She felt nothing. She had forgotten everything about herself.
She had forgotten her name or how she looked like, or how she sounded like. She did not know if there were people she particularly loved. She had forgotten how many fingers she had or what foods she enjoyed.
She had forgotten everything, and no matter how hard she tried to grasp it, she could not remember.
All she knew was the color pitch black, the color of oblivion. She knew only of silence and only felt loneliness.
She heard a water drop. Plink.
It was such a tiny sound—almost like a teardrop, but it echoed around in her head. It was the first sound she had heard in such a long time that she started craving for it.
For the first time in two hundred years, she got up.
She was pulled closer and closer to the sound of waterdrops until she spotted a speck of light. The light triggered something in her.
She remembered something—she remembered fireflies.
So she went closer to it—to the firefly—until that small firefly became bigger, until it was large enough to consume her.
She felt a humid breeze as she opened her eyes.
She lay down on a cot. The first thing she saw after waking up was a white ceiling.
She could not move—she had forgotten how to properly function her body. All she could do was breath and stare at the white ceiling all day. She felt extremely weak and cold. She felt like a flower that was on the verge of wilting away.
She had no idea how long it had passed when she finally grew the strength to tilt her head sideways. She was in a room with a singular dresser. On top of that was a complete tea set. Books were stacked beside it, quite messily, too. There was a total number of one window in the entire room. Outside, she saw the leaves of a tree and the orange hue of the afternoon sky.
The afternoon sky reminded her of burning cities. She hated it and looked away.
She mustered the strength to get up. Her bones shook as she lifted herself from the bed. She felt so heavy—her body felt so alien.
Get up.
Get up and move.
She turned herself sideways and fell off the bed.
Thud. She kissed the cold wooden floor.
She winced. My head is about to burst.
She propped herself up with her arms, but it soon gave away and she remained a failure on the floor. Why does my body refuse to listen?!
She breathed hard, closed her eyes, and focused. She tried again.
Her metallic hands clutched on the bed to pull her up and—
Wait...
Metallic hands?
Silence.
What metallic hands?
Very carefully and slowly, her eyes casted downwards.
Her arms were fine—they were wrapped in white gauze, starting from her neck down to her chest and to her arms, but they were all flesh and bone underneath.
They were the pale skin that she remembered having. But it all ended there, because for some reason, her flesh met metal, and her fingers were metal, complete with screws and do-hickeys and what-not.
Wait a minute...
Is this 'thing' attached to me??
Get it off!!
She panicked. Get it off! Get it off!
She caused a ruckus, her panic turning into a chaos. She slammed her metal wrist to the wooden drawer, making it tremor. The teacup above crashed to the ground beside her and broke.
Just as she reached for the broken cup piece, she faintly heard a door creak open and another glass shattering on the floor.
She had the metallic hand over the cup shard, but her fingers struggled to close around it. Stupid fingers! She wanted to rip them off. Am I turning into metal?? Well, shit.
She grew so frustrated that she crushed the teacup.
And then a pair of hands grabbed her from behind and pulled her back. Just as naturally, she swung around on the floor and connected her foot to the other person's gut.
The man hit the wall—the wall cracked behind him. He groaned in pain.
Her eyes began to widen. I can kick? The realization dawned on her. She brightened like the sun. I CAN KICK!
She had foot strength!!
Which means...
She stood up on shaky legs. She had on a crooked smile on her face like she had just gotten away with the craziest prank ever.
Yes... That's it! Function like you are supposed to, my beloved feet!
She tested herself by moving her left foot forward. She stumbled on the first try, but caught herself on the bed. When she tried her right foot, she did not do as badly.
On her fifth step, she could finally walk without falling.
She eyed the door deliciously.
The man on the wall reached out a hand to stop her. "No! Wait—!"
But she was already out the door before he could finish. She looked around. Where is this place?
She was standing in the middle of a long corridor. Her toes curled themselves on the red carpet underneath. It felt fuzzy on her skin—a weird sensation.
She looked at herself and realized that she was wearing a white gown that stopped on her knees. Though it almost seemed like a rather oversized shirt, or a sack for potatoes.
She shook her head. It was pointless to be thinking about such things. She was in an unknown territory. How did I get here again?
She ran as fast as she could while laughing hysterically. She felt carefree. Nobody was on her tail, and it was the best feeling ever. Maybe I kicked him too hard?
She turned at the next corner and crashed into someone. "Oof!" They both fell and rolled down a long set of stairs.
When they reached the landing, she massaged the back of her head. Owowow!
She made eye contact with the ginger-head. His eyes widened like he'd seen a ghost. "What is she doing here?!" he asked hurriedly at anyone.
Oops. Since she couldn't use her arms, she notched him on the nose with her foot. The unexpected action pivoted his head around as she made a run for it. See ya, sucker!
"Don't let her get away!"
She headed for the door. It was the biggest door, so she knew it had to be the exit. Freedom!
Just as she was about to barge through it, the double doors opened to reveal an old man with a deluxe white mustache in a luxurious suit. He looked expensive.
She tripped. Shoot. Shit.
"Lord Koi!" someone said at the same time another said "Uncle!"
This 'Lord Koi' person stared down at her on the ground with a frown. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.
A number of cold, rough hands seized her legs and dragged her back to the foyer as she reached for anything to hold on to. "NO!"
She fought and kicked against six people.
"Calm down!"
"Miss, stop struggling!"
"It's difficult enough as it—"
She kicked that last person by accident.
"I WILL KILL ALL OF YOU FILTHY DEVILS!" she screamed at all of them as she pried herself from filthy hands. "YOU ALL WILL PAY FOR YOUR SINS!"
"She's a little screwed in the head, isn't she?" one of them joked. But none of them laughed.
Her arms were restrained on both sides by two people, and even more people came to restrain those violent legs of hers. "Stop kicking! Dammit!"
"The syringe?" asked one of them.
She watched as a needle was brought closer to her. What is that? It looks dangerous. She tried to bite his hand away with her teeth like a mad dog.
The man snapped his hand away. "Whoa, there. Feisty, aren't ya'?" He plunged the needle into her neck.
She screamed until the birds outside flocked away.
"Curse... you... friggin devils..." she managed to say before going back to sleep.
•••
"Let's try this again," said an annoyed ginger as he stood at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed. He angrily tapped his foot. "Have you calmed down yet?"
Seren heard a glass pour as she slowly opened her eyes. She was back in the room she woke up in with the same white ceilings and the fallen books and tea set. They were all back in place, however, and the mess she created were cleaned up as if it never happened.
The sky was darker, but the room was lit by a source of light. Beside the bed, there was a light emitted from inside a glass case. She saw it and tried to figure it out. Was it firelight? But the more she looked at it, she was sure there was no fire.
"How," she ended up saying. "How is there light in there?"
It's probably magic. Stupid question.
"Oh, do you mean the lamp? That's because of technology."
"What is that?" she asked, genuinely curious. "Is that a type of magic technique?" If so, then she needed to learn it right away.
The ginger looked stunned. He asked her, "Would you mind telling me your name first?"
She hesitated.
Should I just? But there was no harm in it. Her actions earlier—attacking the first person she met—flashed into her mind and she cursed at herself.
She decided to hell with it and just told him.
"Seren is what they call me."
"Thank you, Seren. The name is Lazardo Charles Koi. You are currently at one of the estates my family owns, and regarding that lamp, technology isn't a form of magic. It's just a simple science created by men; no magic involved." He handed her a glass of water.
She reached to accept it, but her hands were completely foreign to her, so she ended up dropping it instead. She could only watch it shatter on the floor.
"Ahh, right. When we found you, you didn't have any hands. My uncle is an esteemed doctor in the kingdom—he was the one that made those prosthetics. It will take you quite some time to get used to them, but with the right practice, you—"
She did not hear the rest of the things he said. So that old geezer was the one that did this to me.
"What realm are we in?" she asked. She already knew the answer but it was best to be sure.
Lazardo appeared to be confused. "Realm? If you're talking about the kingdom, we are in Iveneterra."
So I'm in the third realm. "Who is the current king?" If she was in Iveneterra, she could go to Ludo and confront him about a lot of things.
"Kepra the third. Why do you ask?"
She was suddenly wide awake. "What?!" she shrieked. "What happened to Ludo?"
And who the hell is Kepra??
Lazardo gave her a thin-lipped smile. He shook his head. "I do not know who that is."
"King Ludo?" she tried him. "I am talking about the king."
Still, he shook his head.
"What about King Gavriel?" She was grasping at straws.
Lazardo's brows shot up. "King Gavriel? I know of him."
"Yes!" she said. Finally! "Where is he right now?"
But something was amiss. He knew of Gavriel but not Ludo?
Also, Lazardo was eyeing her suspiciously. He suddenly asked her, "How long do you think you were asleep for?"
She made a face at him like he just asked her a dumb question. "It can't be that long. Now tell me where I can find him."
"Seren," he stated. "King Gavriel is the third king of Iveneterra."
Seren stared at him. "Yes. I am well aware of that."
"And?" he asked her. Was he implying something? He looked like he was waiting for her to say something.
Seren waited for him to elaborate. When he was sure she was not going to say anything, he finished his sentence.
"King Gavriel died two centuries ago."
There was a long silence that filled the room. They could even hear the crickets outside.
And then Seren spoke.
"You have got to be kidding me."
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