""Five extra points on next week's test to whoever can answer this next question," Miss Olga said to her class. It was the end of the day, and her students just wanted to go home, but at the mention of extra points for the next test, they perked up.
Turning around to look at them, she saw her class of twenty-five children, their faces illuminated by the soft light that came in through the window. The curtains moved softly with the light breeze that blew in.
"What was the name of the woman who fell in love with Odysseus?" Miss Olga asked, looking over the class. A groan rippled through the room. It seemed that most of the students had not done the home reading she had assigned. Miss Olga let out a half-disappointed sigh.
In truth, Miss Olga would have liked to be teaching a different book, but it was the curriculum the government had given them this year. It was not that Miss Olga didn't like the Odyssey; it was just that the names of characters and cities were too difficult to pronounce, even for her. "Come on, kids, this is an easy one," Miss Olga said, looking around the room and seeing that a few hands had come up.
Miss Olga picked a girl in the front row to the right. "Penelope," the girl answered.
Miss Olga shook her head and next picked a boy in the center. "Athena," the boy said, in a way that Miss Olga suspected meant he knew he was wrong but still wanted to get participation points. As a teacher, she appreciated the effort.
Lastly, she picked a black-haired girl. Her hand was raised close to her body, making only a faint attempt at being noticed. "Rain, do you know the answer, dear?" Miss Olga asked.
Rain startled at her name being called, and she seemed to shrink into her chair.
"Calypso," Rain answered in a shy but clear voice.
"Correct. Calypso is the nymph who kept Odysseus on her island and offered him immortality if he stayed with her," Miss Olga said, giving a smile to Rain. However, she didn't miss the reactions of the other students.
On some of her students' faces, she could see bitterness, and this was not the first time. Rain was a brilliant student; she did her homework on time, and her test scores were excellent. But her social skills, Miss Olga had noticed, were not the best.
For this reason, Miss Olga picked Rain last; she didn't want to put her in the spotlight and make her uncomfortable, but since Rain had her hand raised, Miss Olga assumed she wanted to participate. There had not been any signs of bullying toward Rain—of that, Miss Olga was sure—but there was isolation. For this reason, Miss Olga had planned to do group activities as much as possible. In her eyes, this was not favoritism; she was just promoting teamwork between classmates.
The sound of the bell that announced the end of class could be heard through the school. The students started to shuffle, standing up. Miss Olga raised a hand in an attempt to get the students' attention back.
"Remember to get your parents to sign the permits for the field trip tomorrow, or you won't be able to go," Miss Olga said as the students slowly but eagerly left her classroom. As the classroom emptied, Miss Olga saw Rain still packing her supplies into her purple backpack.
Miss Olga walked calmly toward Rain and extended her hand toward the black-haired girl. A little bright yellow sticker in the shape of a star was on her index finger.
"For you, Rain. Keep up the good work," Miss Olga said, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. Rain looked up from her bag, and her face, which before was somewhat anxious, lit up at the sight of the star sticker.
"Thank you," Rain said, while gently taking the star and putting it on her notebook. Miss Olga noticed that it was a band-themed notebook, and she tried to remember the name of the singer on the cover.
"Night&Gale? That's the name, right?" Miss Olga asked, turning her head slightly to the right.
Rain looked up at Miss Olga, her eyes sparkling, and nodded her head eagerly. Miss Olga smiled slightly; it was her first time seeing the girl so lively.
"Do you have any songs you can recommend?" Miss Olga asked, curious about the girl's taste in music. Miss Olga thought Rain would mention sad or melancholic songs, but was pleasantly surprised when Rain started naming upbeat songs that even Miss Olga had heard on the radio but didn't know the names of.
Miss Olga found that Rain seemed to lose all her anxious energy when talking about Night&Gale. Maybe I should try sneaking some pop-culture topics into the government's curriculum, Miss Olga thought. This was not only for Rain—no, that would have been favoritism—but because, like Rain, there were other students who seemed to have various levels of social anxiety.
"How about we keep talking about music later? I wouldn't want you to miss your bus," Miss Olga said, while looking at the ticking clock at the back of the classroom.
Rain stood up and grabbed her bag with both hands in front of herself. On her face, Miss Olga could see that the girl wanted to say something but was struggling to get it out.
"Thank you, Miss Olga. I'll see you tomorrow," Rain said in a cheerful but quiet voice, and started walking towards the exit.
"Remember the permit," Miss Olga reminded Rain. The girl only nodded and disappeared into the hall.
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That was nice, Rain thought as she rode the school bus home. It wasn't unusual for teachers to talk to students, but that was usually only if there had been a problem. That had not been the case today. The conversation with Miss Olga had been easy and enjoyable, with Rain even having a chance to talk about Night&Gale.
Rain looked at her communicator and saw that one of the songs she had recommended to Miss Olga was playing. Shifting in her seat, Rain made herself more comfortable; she didn't know why, but the seats of the bus were always slippery.
Looking out of the window, Rain watched the world pass by as the bus made its stops, letting other children out near their houses. Deciding that there wasn't much else to do, Rain pulled out her notebooks and started sifting through them, looking at her homework. Picking up a pen, she started answering some of the questions. This was normal for Rain, since hers would be the last stop the bus made.
Time passed, and Rain had finished all of her homework at the exact moment she reached her stop. Picking up her things, she started to climb down the stairs, but not before saying thanks and wishing a good evening to the bus driver, Mister T.
Now on the street, Rain headed home through the neighborhood. On the way, she saw some well-dressed people and high-end PTVs. Her family lived in a nice part of the city where government offices and shopping centers were only a couple of blocks away.
Reaching her street, Rain looked to the right. Just on the other side of the street, Rain could see a house that was for sale. It was of good proportions and had a nice, ample porch that would allow for a couple of chairs where people could relax, stretching their legs without fear of bumping into each other. Now that Rain looked at the porch, a small table could be placed in the middle, allowing for the opportunity to eat snacks on the porch or just put down a drink.
To Rain's mind came the idea of how nice it would be to live alone in a house like that—without parents who made her do chores when she just wanted to be doing other stuff. It was not that Rain didn't love her parents, but they could be overbearing sometimes; her mother, for example, still insisted on checking her homework. For the dead gods, I'm fifteen. Practically an adult, Rain thought as she opened the door to her house.
Closing the door behind her, Rain took off her shoes and stepped into the living room. It was an ample space where, to the left, a brown leather couch could be seen, followed by a big TV and an unlit fireplace. To the right, a big window that took up most of the wall let in natural light that illuminated the whole space. Walking deeper into the house, music could be heard coming from the kitchen, followed by a melodic voice.
"Rainy, is that you?" The voice of her mother asked, and a moment later, her face came into view. She was a woman in her early forties who was still elegant and graceful. Her long blonde hair was tied in a ponytail, just as she had told Rain to do many times before whenever she was helping out in the kitchen.
"You're home," Rain said as she went to give her a hug. Sometimes her mother would visit her father at the office to bring him a recently cooked meal, and Rain would not see her mother until later in the day.
"Mhm. I went to Dad's work early and brought him some lasagna. Your brother got out of school early today because it was a half-day," her mother said, giving her an awkward hug with her elbows since her hands were dirty with the beginnings of an apple pie.
"Is there anything I can help with?" Rain asked, taking a step back and looking at her mother. She was wearing a white polka-dot sleeveless dress, and over it, she had a brown apron with a big red apple in the middle of it.
Her mother thought for a moment, looked around the kitchen, and shook her head.
"No, dear. I'm okay. You can go; if I need help, I'll call you down," her mother said, giving her a soft smile. Rain nodded and turned back toward the living room, took a left, and headed upstairs to her room at the far end of the corridor. She passed in front of her brother's room and saw him coloring in a book. Looking for only a moment, she continued walking toward her room.
Reaching her room, Rain entered and put her bag in the corner of her desk, and with a small jump, landed face-first on her bed. Rain let her body relax and become one with it, and slowly but surely, she started falling asleep.
Lately, her dreams were strange; they consisted of a small room that contained a kitchen where two figures were standing in front of the stove. The two figures were facing away from her, so Rain could never remember what they looked like, but what she could see were their shapes and clothes.
The tall figure had long black hair that reached all the way to her waist; Rain could tell it was a woman. The woman was wearing a gray long-sleeved shirt and black pants that rolled down her legs easily without wrinkles. Her hands were moving, seemingly dealing with a single pan on the stove. On closer inspection, the sleeves of her gray shirt were rolled back all the way to her elbows, and her hands held a spoon that seemed to be made of wood.
The smaller figure hugged the woman, wrapping its arms around her waist. A sudden wave of longing hit Rain, and she tried to move toward the two figures, wanting to join them in the embrace.
"Rainy, dinner is ready! Come down, dear."
Rain woke with a start, her arms wrapped around her pillow, hugging it as if it were to disappear. Her breathing had become agitated, and she was sweating slightly. Rain dragged her hand across her face. The feeling of longing was still present, but it was fading away slightly as the seconds passed.
With a deep breath, Rain started heading to the living room before her mother had another chance to call her. She was feeling slightly lost.
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Opening her eyes, Nephis looked through the clear crystal of the pod at the ceiling above. Morning had come to the waking world while she had been traversing the Chain Isles, helping Cassie organize the Firekeepers in the Citadel. Today—or more accurately, yesterday—she had met Saint Tyris and her husband, Roan.
They had conversed over some food, and they seemed like genuinely nice people. At least, that was the impression Nephis had gotten from Master Roan, since Saint Tyris didn't talk much. The Saint had been eating her food in quiet concentration while her husband led the conversation with easygoing questions. Despite the difference in rank between the two, Saint Tyris never treated her husband as if he were beneath her, and she always took his cues when he tried to include her in the conversation.
It was clear to Nephis that the affection they felt for each other went beyond rank, but she could not help asking herself who wore the pants in the relationship. Of course, Master Roan was a rank below Saint Tyris, but in Nephis's mind, the idea was that after everyone was gone and the day neared its end, Saint Tyris would just let her walls down and submit to her husband's will.
Nephis's thoughts shifted to Sunny. She was on the path to challenging the Second Nightmare and becoming a Master. Her mind started to wander as to what the relationship with Sunny would be like if she were a rank stronger than him.
Images of blood came to her mind at the thought of him. Nephis had been watching when Sunny lost his finger; the screams and tears had broken her heart and still haunted her.
But that had not been the worst part.
The worst part was the silence that followed. At the time, Nephis had been in the Chain Isles on an expedition with the Firekeepers, and she had decided to take a last look at Sunny before going to sleep. Guttural, ear-splitting screams and pleas for Saint to help him had been the first thing that greeted Nephis, even before the image appeared in front of her. When the visuals finally appeared, Nephis looked in desperation for the cause of such suffering, but all she could see was a hand contrasting against the dark floor.
Nephis tried. She really did, but no matter how hard she stared at the image, only a trembling hand and the floor could be seen—but the noise. The screams and the sound of thrashing against solid matter could be heard. Nephis had started trembling from powerlessness, and silent tears started falling from her eyes, silent sobs escaping her.
Nephis had stood up and separated herself from the group of Firekeepers. Many noticed and asked where she was going, but she ignored them. The images and sound continued playing against her will, and then, suddenly, they stopped.
Complete and utter silence.
Nephis looked at the screen to see if it was still there.
It was.
The screen was black, the images that it had previously presented completely gone. This was not the first time this had happened. Sometimes she would use the ability late at night and just be able to hear soft breaths, as if Sunny were sleeping. Other times, Sunny would be awake and suddenly the screen would turn black whenever he encountered a Nightmare Creature, and she would only be able to hear rapid movement cutting the air and the sounds of fighting. Nephis suspected it probably had to do with some kind of Memory he had.
But this was not the same as those instances. This was complete silence after what had felt like an eternity of soul-shredding screams.
Nephis's breathing grew more rapid. Her legs gave out, making her land hard on her knees. Her hands started shaking, and a feeling of needles puncturing her fingers came along with the tremors. Nephis could not feel the air coming into her lungs, even though she could breathe just fine. She was having a panic attack.
Nephis continued to increase the speed of her breathing, trying to feel the air in her lungs. Without knowing it, she was making the situation much worse. She grew lightheaded, and darkness came when her head hit the floor.
Nephis woke up the next day, alone and among some trees. The camp where the Firekeepers had decided to stay wasn't too far away from where she lay. Standing up, Nephis started to circle around them with weak, heavy strides. Her hair was a mess of dirt, sticks, and leaves; her armor was smeared with dried mud. Nephis could feel the start of more tears forming. It took her a while, but she made it to her Citadel, and then soon after, home.
Focusing her gaze away from the ceiling, Nephis opened her pod door and stepped out. She had been in the pod for at least a week, if her calculations were right, so she took her time appreciating the cold floor underneath her feet. Taking a breath, Nephis started feeling discomfort in her abdomen. Looking down with a puzzled expression, she saw a faint red smear on her pants.
It came early this month? Nephis thought.
She didn't know if her cycle had come early from stress or if she had just completely forgotten the date. Lately, Nephis had been helping Cassie prepare for a trip to Shipwreck Island, since apparently, there was something there they would need to challenge the Nightmare.
Looking back at her pod, Nephis could see that it was clean. The self-cleansing features that all pods had were doing their job, but why was this one so different from the ones in the Academy? Nephis had bought the most expensive pod the market could offer, but for some reason, it lacked certain features that the government pods in the Academy had—like completely stopping her cycle. She could not imagine what it would have been like if she had not been in a government pod for the entire duration of the Forgotten Shore.
Turning her eyes away from the pod, Nephis looked at the clock on the wall and her eyes opened wide. My two hours are up! Nephis started opening her runes in a haste, but then she suddenly stopped herself.
"No. I—I should probably wash first, and also eat," Nephis said in a small voice to herself. The need to see Sunny gradually started to grow stronger. Nephis quickly opened the drawer of the table next to her pod and pulled something out.
They were long black strands of hair that were held together by a red silk string. It was Sunny's hair, which she had cut not too long ago. Bringing the hair close to her face and breathing in its scent calmed Nephis's needs down some.
With her head somewhat clearer now, Nephis headed to the bathroom, bringing the hair along with her. The shower didn't take long since Nephis didn't wash her hair; putting on a black shirt with gray underwear, she headed to the kitchen.
Nephis wasn't much of a cook, since her mother never had the chance to teach her, and all of the cooking that was done on the Forgotten Shore had been done by Sunny. What she did know how to make was a sandwich. So, that's what she made.
With the sandwich done, Nephis poured some orange juice into a cup and headed to the dining table. Reaching the table and putting her food down, she looked around the room. The walls were covered with the residue of dust in the shapes of frames that had long been gone from this house.
When her parents died, Nephis's grandmother had tried to keep the clan afloat by selling whatever had any value. At first, it started with things no one would notice, like vases; then it was the jewelry, followed by the heads of Nightmare Creatures that had hung from the walls, and lastly, the paintings started to disappear. The last one to go was a wall-length portrait of her mother and father side by side, with Nephis in the middle grabbing her mother's hand and smiling, which had hung in her father's office.
After her grandmother sold that portrait, it was like something broke inside of her—as if, with the selling of the painting, she had given up on the possibility of her daughter ever coming back to the waking world. Not long after, Nephis's grandmother died, and Nephis was infected with the Nightmare Spell.
Looking at the walls again, not all were empty, since Nephis had started to buy back some of the sold pieces with the money she made by selling Memories and the Forgotten Shore Survivors Fund that the government provided to everyone who came back.
After looking at the partial emptiness of the wall, Nephis looked at her dining table. It was big—a rectangular table that currently had twelve seats set up, with space for many more. Looking at the table, Nephis noticed how alone she was in the room.
Her manor served as the main base of operations for the Firekeepers, but that was only for meetings. After waking up, everyone else went home to their families or bought a house with the funds provided by the government. Running her hands over the surface of the table, Nephis thought of Saint Tyris.
Nephis wondered if Saint Tyris had a table like this in the waking world, or if her table might be smaller—more intimate, so that she could be closer to her husband. She wondered if their chairs were at opposite ends of the table, or if they were side by side, or maybe they only had one chair. One chair where Saint Tyris, after a long day of leading, would sit in her husband's lap and lay her head in the crook of his neck. Where she would leave behind the Saint and indulge in just being the needy and submissive wife who liked to be ordered around by her husband.
Thinking back on the conversation, Saint Tyris had always had her hand interlaced with Master Roan's, as if she needed his touch. She never let go of his hand, even when it became inconvenient for her during the meal.
Nephis sat down in a chair and considered coming home after a long day with the Firekeepers and just being able to leave the strong persona behind—being able to come home and not be the Changing Star of the Immortal Flame. Coming home and being vulnerable with her husband. Her husband. Sunny.
The thought made heat spread from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. Remembering Sunny made her think about the bond, which she quickly opened to activate Master's Watchful Eye, but then she suddenly stopped.
Do I really want to do this?
Nephis thought, looking around the empty room. She was scared. Scared that she would activate the ability and be greeted by screams that would break her heart and haunt her long after the thirty minutes had passed.
No. I did this to him. I have to see it through, Nephis decided after thinking about it for a minute. She poured essence into the ability and waited anxiously. When the image appeared in front of her, Nephis couldn't help herself and closed her eyes. She could hear heavy footsteps, and the possibility that Sunny was hiding from a large Nightmare Creature came to her mind.
It's so close, Nephis thought, still with her eyes closed, fear taking over her body. Deciding that she could not keep her eyes closed anymore, she slowly started opening them. At first, it was only a little, but as time went on and no screams came, she opened them more until she was looking at the screen.
The image was strange. Sunny seemed to be moving forward, but there was no physical walking movement, and the heavy footsteps continued to resound as if something were walking beside him.
"A witch! That's the word I'm looking for! Or is it a name?" The voice was transmitted suddenly to Nephis's head, almost making her drop the glass of orange juice she was about to take a sip of. The screen turned from the scenery to the face of a stone woman who simply tilted her head.