As Alya abruptly regained consciousness, she found herself lying in the midst of a vibrant flower meadow. Her eyes fluttered open, and she was greeted by a scene of astonishing beauty. The world around her seemed to come alive with an almost surreal vividness.
The symphony of nature's sounds enveloped her. Overhead, a chorus of birds serenaded the morning, their melodic chirps filling the air with a harmonious melody. The gentle caress of the wind played with the delicate blades of grass, creating a soft, whispering rustle that added to the enchantment of the moment.
Alya's gaze wandered, and she spotted a small bunny, its soft fur a stark contrast against the lush green grass. It hopped gracefully, seemingly untouched by the troubles of the world, a living testament to the serenity of this meadow. Sunlight filtered through the leaves of nearby trees, casting dappled shadows that danced like ethereal spirits across the landscape.
For a moment, Alya forgot her worries and immersed herself in the tranquil beauty of this unexpected haven. It was as if the world had momentarily paused, offering her a respite from the chaos and uncertainty that had plagued her life.
Before Alya stretched a picturesque landscape, and at its center, a small, inviting hill beckoned her. Perched atop this hill were two familiar figures, silhouetted against the backdrop of a clear blue sky. They waved enthusiastically, their voices carrying gently on the breeze as they called out her name.
"Jungdea... Roby..."
Alya's heart soared with joy as she recognized the voices of her friends. Their calls were like a lifeline, drawing her towards them. Without hesitation, she sprang to her feet and began sprinting towards the summit, her steps fueled by the excitement of reuniting with her cherished companions.
However, as she drew closer, a subtle shift in their expressions caught her attention. The once radiant smiles on their faces had dimmed, replaced by a mixture of concern and uncertainty. Alya's pace slowed as doubt crept in, and she finally reached the crest of the hill to stand before them.
The warmth that had initially filled her heart now mingled with a sense of unease. Alya couldn't help but wonder what had changed since they had called her name so cheerfully just moments ago. It was a bittersweet reunion, leaving her with more questions than answers and a lingering sense of apprehension in the air.
"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! YOU'RE THE REASON SHE DIED!"
Alya's heart pounded in her chest as a blood-curdling scream shattered the serene atmosphere of the meadow. It was Jungdae, and his voice carried a note of sheer terror. In his trembling arms, he held the pallid figure of Roby, whose life essence seemed to be flowing away in rivulets of crimson. Alya, stunned and horrified, instinctively slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp.
The surreal scene before her unfolded in a nightmarish tableau. Roby's once vibrant face was now a ghostly white, and the sight of the deep, crimson wounds that marred her form sent shivers down Alya's spine. She took a few faltering steps backward, her vision blurred by a cascade of tears that welled up in her eyes.
"I...what? No... it's not my fault... is it?" Alya stammered, her voice quivering with uncertainty, unable to comprehend the grisly spectacle before her.
Kneeling beside Roby, Alya felt a surge of anguish and desperation. She cradled her injured friend tenderly, as if trying to protect her from the world's cruelties. The two of them were now in their own world, isolated from the chaos around them.
Roby, her strength fading but her eyes filled with an unwavering love, gently cupped Alya's tear-stained face between her trembling hands. She took a shuddering breath before pouring out her heart.
"I love you, Alya Whitmore. I crave your touch, I desire your voice, I need you to be by my side." Her words were a declaration of profound affection, spoken amidst the turmoil and pain, a testament to the enduring bond between them.
The saintess broke into tears leaning her forehead onto Roby's.
"We mustn't…"
"Let's run away."
Roby's sudden burst of energy ignited Alya's senses, and she was instantly on her feet, hand tightly clasped with her friend's. Together, they sprinted through the meadow, and the world around them transformed in the blink of an eye. They found themselves hurtling down a narrow forest path, the ground beneath them uneven and challenging, each step accompanied by heavy, labored breaths. Sweat streamed down their faces, their exertion mirrored in the glistening beads that clung to their skin.
Amidst the pounding of their hearts and the rush of the wind in their ears, the cacophony of panic and chaos grew louder. Distant shouts filled the forest, and Alya's ears registered the ominous swish of arrows being shot.
"No matter what you do, don't look b--" Roby's words were abruptly cut off as she came to an abrupt stop. Her eyes widened, and slowly, her gaze shifted downward, revealing the chilling sight of an arrow lodged through her chest. Pain etched across her face, but despite the agony, she mustered a serene smile, a silent message of love and sacrifice meant for Alya alone.
Alya's heart sank as she met Roby's gaze. There were no words, but in that moment, a profound understanding passed between them. Roby's smile conveyed not just love, but also an unspoken plea for Alya to keep moving, to survive, to remember the bond they shared even in the face of tragedy.
"I love you…and I always will. I do not regret a single thing."
The sudden and sharp sound of a slap echoed through the room, followed by an intense stinging sensation that radiated across Alya's cheeks. It was a physical jolt that cut through the air, leaving her momentarily disoriented and bewildered.
With wide eyes filled with fear, Alya turned her gaze towards her stepmother. Her heart raced, and her breath caught in her throat as she met the steely, disapproving gaze of the woman who was supposed to care for her. In that fleeting moment, their eyes locked, and Alya saw not a nurturing figure but a face contorted with disgust and anger.
The room seemed to grow colder, the atmosphere thick with tension and unspoken grievances. Alya's cheeks still tingled from the slap, but the pain was nothing compared to the emotional turmoil that gripped her. She felt vulnerable, trapped in a situation where her fear and her stepmother's disdain converged into a heartbreaking realization that this was her harsh reality.
"I should've killed that witch earlier. Good thing your sister caught you guys planning to run away."
The room was plunged into a sudden and chaotic disarray as the door swung open violently, crashing against the wall with a resounding thud. The intruder stormed in, their voice a piercing scream that filled the space.
"WHAT DID YOU DO? WHY... WHY! YOU SHOULD'VE KNOWN THAT THIS WOULD END BAD!"
Alya turned, her eyes widening in surprise and alarm at the furious figure that had barged in. It was Jungdea, his usually calm demeanor shattered, replaced by a whirlwind of anger and accusation. His voice trembled with a mixture of fear and rage, directed squarely at Alya.
Torn between the shock of Jungdea's outburst and her own inner turmoil, Alya could only manage a feeble response.
"Jungdea..." Her voice wavered, unable to find the words to explain the situation or to soothe her friend's overwhelming emotions.
Flames. The whole room was filled with flames. In front of Alya stood her family watching her burn.
The excruciating pain coursing through Alya's body was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was as if millions of sharp needles had mercilessly pierced every inch of her being, each one sending waves of torment rippling through her. In that agonizing moment, Alya's world was consumed by this overwhelming sensation.
Without warning, the idyllic scene morphed into a nightmarish tableau. The tranquility of the meadow dissolved, replaced by a raging inferno that consumed everything in its path. Flames erupted from the earth, their intense heat and searing brilliance casting eerie shadows that danced wildly across the landscape.
Alya's heart raced as the room she stood in was engulfed by the relentless firestorm. The flames roared like an insatiable beast, hungrily devouring all in their wake. The air grew thick with the acrid stench of smoke, and the crackling of burning wood and grass echoed ominously in her ears.
Before her, through the blinding and swirling flames, Alya could make out the shapes of her family. Their faces, once familiar and comforting, now wore expressions of sorrow and despair as they stood there, watching her burn. Their silent gaze bore into her, and Alya felt a chilling mixture of anguish and betrayal.
In this fiery nightmare, the world had turned against her, and the agony of the flames mirrored the turmoil within her heart. She was trapped, alone, and engulfed by the all-consuming blaze, a symbol of her deepest fears and anxieties.
Alyas reaction was visceral. She couldn't contain it. Her vocal cords unleashed a scream that tore through the air, a primal cry that seemed to defy the very limits of human endurance. But this scream, it wasn't merely a response to the searing pain; it was a manifestation of her profound sadness.
Tears welled up in her eyes, mixing with the sweat that trickled down her contorted face. It was a cry of despair, a mournful wail that echoed the depths of her soul. In that unbearable moment, Alya realized that the pain she felt was not just physical; it was a reflection of the anguish and heartbreak that had been gnawing at her from within for far too long.
~
As Alya slowly stirred from her slumber, she became aware of the dampness on her cheeks. Her face was drenched in tears, and the taste of salty tears lingered on her lips, a bitter reminder of her troubled dreams.
"Bad dream?"
Alya's eyes snapped open, startled by the unexpected voice that greeted her. Instead of the floor, she was now resting on a bench, her head gently cradled on a familiar lap.
Looking up, her gaze met the concerned face of the red-haired young man who had assisted her earlier in navigating the chaotic scene. It became evident that he must have discovered her collapsed form and taken it upon himself to place her in a more comfortable position.
Alya blinked, momentarily disoriented by the shift in her surroundings. She had not expected to awaken in this manner, her head resting on the lap of a virtual stranger. Confusion and embarrassment washed over her, and she hurriedly sat up, her cheeks flushed with a mix of emotions.
"Thank you,"
she mumbled, her voice soft and filled with gratitude as she processed the unexpected act of kindness.
"Awh, already leaving?"
the red-haired man playfully pouted as Alya began to rise from the bench.
His teasing tone made Alya smile despite her earlier disorientation.
"You know you owe me something,"
he continued with a mischievous grin, leaning in closer to her.
"I didn't save you once but twice."
Alya let out a soft sigh, realizing that she couldn't just leave without acknowledging the help she had received. She turned back to face him, a sense of curiosity in her eyes.
"May I know the name of my oh so great savior?"
Alya asked, her voice tinged with a touch of playful sarcasm.
As if he had been waiting for this moment, the young man immediately jumped up to his feet and introduced himself with flair.
"The name's Jaro Thornebridge, Second Son of Victor Thornebridge," he declared proudly. He followed his introduction with a graceful bow, his demeanor a mixture of charm and confidence.
"Pleased to meet you."
Alya couldn't help but be drawn to his lively and charismatic personality, and she couldn't deny that her curiosity about him was piqued.
"I am Alya Whitmore, second daughter of Erhardt Whitmore and Saintess of the Whitmore Empire."
Alya introduced herself with a dignified tone, her upbringing and training as a Saintess evident in her graceful demeanor. She followed her introduction with a respectful curtsy, her movements fluid and poised.
The formality of the moment struck Alya as somewhat amusing given the unusual circumstances in which they had met. She couldn't help but chuckle softly, a light and genuine laugh that added a touch of warmth to the encounter. It was a reminder that even in the midst of unexpected events and strange encounters, there was room for humor and connection.
With a charming and gallant gesture, Jaro took Alya's delicate hand in his own and raised it to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss onto the back of her hand, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that hinted at the potential for a deeper connection.
"I'm sure we'll become the greatest of friends."
he said with a warm and confident smile, his words filled with a sense of optimism and camaraderie. The simple act of a hand-kiss and the sincerity in his gaze conveyed a promise of friendship that Alya couldn't help but find intriguing and comforting in this moment of uncertainty.