A hand rests on my back and narrowed eyes stare back at me. I don't know whether to be scared of this dark haired man or the fact that I almost plunged to my death.
"If you die on me now, I'll kill you," Ronan speaks words of comfort. I silently place my feet back onto the smooth white marble. "You're weak, even for a human."
I cast my gaze to the ground, feeling small. I know I'm weak but it still sucks to hear it said out loud.
The palace sits high upon the land, arrogantly looking down at the rest of the Empire. It's even more intimidating up close. I feel like I could walk alongside it for days and still not find where it ends. The tops of roofs peek out from behind the gate, as if trying to sneak a glance at the newcomers.
Two bronze statues in the shape of men guard the enormous gate, spears blocking the entrance. Ronan pauses before the bronze statues and the eyes of the statues stare down at us, nearly giving me a heart attack.
With a rumble, the gate opens by itself and the statues draw their spears back, revealing an open square courtyard filled to the brim with people. Wealthy looking men and women dressed in exquisitely crafted robes crowd around the center of the courtyard.
A single man, bare chested with jewels adorning his neck, gladly accepts the crowd's attention. Hands lifted upwards, a single flame erupts from his palms, turning into the figure of a horse cutting through the night air with incredible speed. The crowd eagerly claps in awe, their money bags already at hand.
Behind the entertainment is a formidable looking palace connected to smaller passageways that surround the square courtyard. Guards in heavy golden armor seal off the palace entrance, meaning whoever lies inside the palace must be incredibly important.
"Noise everywhere I go," Ronan grumbles at the unpleasant turn of events. He turns to the lantern floating patiently beside him and whispers something to it once again. The lantern immediately takes off in the direction we came from.
A middle aged man with a green robe almost immediately approaches us. Sweat dampens his forehead and his attention still seems preoccupied with the events occurring behind him. "Sir, how may I be of service?"
Ronan doesn't answer immediately. "It seems there's a big event today," He notes in a light hearted manner, staring back at the crowd.
The green robed man wipes his forehead and gives a polite smile. "Ah, yes. His Majesty is entertaining nobles from the Drago Empire."
Ronan's expression darkens. "The Drago Empire? That's a surprise."
"Our Inferno Empire is currently working towards peaceful relations with our long-time rival," He says, "And with the young princess of Drago Empire taking residence here, a peace treaty might not be out of the question."
"I see," Ronan says, in deep thought.
The middle aged man nervously glances back at the entertainment. "Young sir, may I ask for your name?"
It's clear that we don't look like wealthy nobles. In fact, I look more like a beggar compared to the wealthy ladies.
"Chief Eunuch, I'm an early spirit stage cultivator of the foreign division," He says, "I've returned to report to Elder Song."
Something flashes in the Eunuch's eyes. "Is your name, perhaps, Ronan?" When Ronan doesn't respond, the older man nods. "It is, isn't it? Let me escort you to the Elder's residence."
Ronan lets out a stiff laugh, the sides of his lips turning at an odd angle. He really shouldn't smile unless it's to mock someone. "You're too kind. But I'm sure, as the Chief Eunuch, you're busy making sure the event runs smoothly."
The Eunuch waves away his remark. "No worries. I have time to spare."
The green robed man leads us to the side of the courtyard, under the cover of the narrow passageway supported by stone walls and tiled roofs. I'm excited at the prospect of seeing more of the palace.
We leave the courtyard through an open arch in the wall and I soon notice that the palace is more complex than meets the eye. It's a series of twists and turns – a never ending maze. I wouldn't be able to escape even if I wanted to.
So far we haven't encountered anyone besides the occasional servant scurrying towards the big event with a tray of food. It's a relief that we haven't run into any intimidating figures.
We pass several walled courtyards containing smaller palaces and dazzling households with upturned roofs clearly meant for nobility. It's clear that the palace was designed by talented artists and I have to tear myself from admiring them so that I can keep up with the hurried Eunuch. Ronan is, of course, still wearing his permanent scowl.
Finally, we enter a large open clearing containing several modest households separated by large trees, blooming flowers, and man-made streams of water. We find our way to a simple wooden household, farther away from the others.
"Elder Song's residence is quite secluded from the rest of the elders, but we've finally arrived," the green robed man says. He quickly makes his exit, in an obvious hurry. "I'll leave you to it, then."
"That old man," Ronan mutters once the Eunuch is out of earshot, "He clearly doesn't trust me, escorting us all the way here. As if I wouldn't know what he's up to."
Ronan knocks on the wooden door. "Elder, it's your disciple. I've returned from my mission." A silence ensues and I glance at him.
"I don't think your superior is home."
He puts a finger to my mouth, silencing me. "Hush, puppy."
My cheeks sting. This whole 'puppy' and 'master' scenario has gone on long enough. I should put a stop to it here and now. "You know, I don't appreciate-"
A loud thump from inside brings my short lived speech to a close.
"One second!" A faint voice says. A second thump is heard, followed by another one. "There goes ten years of research." The door slides opens and an old man with wildly unkempt grey hair appears in the doorway, looking us up and down with bloodshot eyes. He juggles several books in his arms and looks like he hasn't slept in days.
"It's about time you've returned," the Elder says and promptly turns back into the building. "Come look at what I've discovered while you were gone."
Ronan nods in my direction and I silently follow him inside the building. The place is cluttered with papers and stacks of dusty books.
He scrunches his nose. "I'm gone for one day and the place is already trashed. You have a real talent." A white glove appears on his hand and he sweeps his finger across a bookcase, dirtying the white cloth.
The old man sits behind a messy desk with a grunt. "You know how absorbed I get in my research." Ronan takes a seat and swings his feet onto the desk. "And an easy task shouldn't have taken a whole day." The Elder's eyes sweep over me and I unconsciously take a step back. "I'm assuming it has something to do with the human girl?"
Ronan chuckles. "I was starting to think your title was just for show. As expected of a distinguished Elder. Nothing gets by you."
"What were you thinking?" The Elder dismisses his comment, leaning into the desk.
"I was thinking I hit the jackpot," Ronan presses, his eyes gleaming, "I don't know why and I don't know how, but she's not an average human. She has traces of demon in her – something never seen before. Do you know what this means?"
The old man abruptly stands, observing me intently like I'm some rare specimen. My shoulders shrink and I keep wanting to disappear into the fort of books at my feet. "A new human-demon hybrid? No, it can't be that simple."
I clear my voice, ignoring the dryness in my throat. "My name is Amira, Sir...Elder." Both their eyes are on me. I finally have their attention after being labeled as some test subject. "I can't explain what's happening to me, but I know that there's something wrong with me, whether it's some demonic power or not. I came here to regain my humanity and I will do whatever that requires."
I'm surprised by my words; they sound strange and foreign, like they were spoken by someone else. Only a brave person can make such bold statements, and God knows I'm far from brave.
Ronan's eyes linger on me. He must think I'm ridiculous, putting up a brave front. He'll never take me seriously – not after playing the damsel in distress for the past couple of hours.
The old man with the crazy hair takes a cautious step towards me. "Amira," He says softly. It's nice hearing my name spoken in a world so foreign to me. "I understand how you feel, but you've only been here for a couple of hours at most. Even with my disciple's protection, you've barely scratched the surface of the dangers in this world. Are you sure you want to risk your life?"
I bite my lip, trying to steady my voice. A surge of confidence wells up within me and I cling to it, unwilling to revert to the coward I was a few seconds ago. "I'd rather risk my own life than the people I care about."
If I were to hurt Aunt Jenna or Claire because of my instable powers, I would never forgive myself. That's why I'll never let it get to that point. I'll learn to control my curse or I'll die trying.
The Elder stares back at me with an unreadable expression. A faint smile flashes across his face, lasting only a second. "I see." He holds a finger up to a spot on his forehead and presses down, a glow emerging from the spot.
One moment he's standing behind his cluttered desk and, in the next, he's gone. A cold finger presses down on my forehead and my mind reels, sending shockwaves throughout my body. I stare back at the old man's pools of blue eyes, aware that my consciousness is fading.
The world becomes pitch black and my body goes limp. All my worries slip into nothingness.
Drip.
My whole world revolves around that annoying drip, drip, drip noise.
"Turn it off," I groan, not wanting to open my eyes. My voice echoes into the distance, but I pay it no mind. "Aunt Jen, turn it off."
Drip.
The noise is driving me crazy but I'm too tired to get up. Why isn't Jen coming? My whole body is tired – aching all over. Why does my body hurt so much?
Drip.
My eyes snap open. A body of red stained water stretches on for as long as the eye can see, my cheek pressed up against the surface. A drop of water splatters across the pool of ominous waters, causing ripples to appear on the surface. I watch on blankly as the ripples reach me, sending vibrations throughout my body.
The vibrations shock me to my senses and I bounce to my feet. "Hello?" The only response is my own echo.
I begin to feel my way around and my footsteps send ripples throughout the blood colored waters. Despite the ominous atmosphere, the place is strangely peaceful – familiar even. I can feel the thrum of the waters coursing throughout my body, and for a second I feel that if I want to, I can control the waters at will.
The feeling slips out of my grasp and I chuckle softly. "I must be losing it."
A child's laughter echoes out, faint at first but ringing loudly as it reaches my ears. A flash of movement catches my attention and I lower my eyes to the water's surface. An image plays out on the surface – a young girl spread out on the floor, laughing gleefully.
"Fly, birdy. Fly!" She squeals, brown eyes gleaming in childish delight.
The image is crystal clear, as if I'm watching through a glass window. But as I continue to watch the laughing child, my eyebrows draw together.
The girl is me.
This is a memory – a memory which I have no recollection of.
I'm unable to steady my wildly beating heart as I watch on intently. The girl continues to giggle as she watches a black feathered bird hop towards her. It has a bandage on its wing, clearly wounded.
"A crow?" I whisper, but stop by myself in fear of interrupting the image.
The girl lowers her head to the bird's level, watching with wide innocent eyes. "You can do it." The little crow continues to hop, but doesn't attempt to move its injured wing. "You're afraid. I know how you feel," she says softly and scoops the bird up in her arms.
The bird wasn't beautiful. It didn't have bright, beautiful feathers that people would fawn over. No, it had plain black feathers that stuck out and looked rough in appearance. Most people wouldn't have bothered to nurse an ugly bird back to health. After all, people are naturally attracted to beautiful things.
"I know what will help," the girl says, carefully carrying the bird in her hands. She reaches the front door of the house and calls out, "Can I go to the park?"
A feminine voice responds from another room, comforting my ears, "As long as you're back before supper!"
The words strike me and I stumble back, almost causing the image to fizzle out. "Mother."
A/N- I post every Friday! Thanks for reading and don't forget to show your love by voting!