Part One

Awakening

Chapter One The first thing I remember was that there was nothing. A sea of it, if nothing could be something. Not a feeling nor sense to riddle my body that wasn't there, nothing to fill my empty eyes, and not a thing to whistle in my forgotten ears. Whether it was sadness or perfection, I could not tell, as I hadn't a brain to think. And then I heard sound. It was unbearably loud, a sound that blocked out every other. It rumbled and screeched across my senses. I watched myself through my own eyes, hearing my thoughts around me, and blinded by a white shimmer pulled across my vision. Moments seemed like ages, days

passed in seconds, noises became synonymous with vision. The conglomeration of senses shook me back and forth throughout the nothing. Slowly, they began to become recognizable. The voices and sounds were unintelligible at first, melding with each other and conflicting with screeches and booms. The air burst with shrieks and howls, whispers like seismic shudders. I opened my eyes to see, but there was only the emptiness and myself. The first real sound began to pull through the haze of blurred hisses and screams. I recognized it, a voice in an empty memory, but I didn't know when, where, or who I was when I knew it. It repeated over and over, screaming its secrets and whispering its bellows. It said one thing. I knew not why, but knew I had to remember its message. It was the most urgent thing I ever had to do, like my mind and soul were clinging on to those last words lost in the blur of time and noise and light. It called to me. It screamed to me. It whispered to me. It sang to me. And then it all stopped. The blur faded away, the noise died out, and time reeled back to its steady beat. I woke up looking at a grey sky. The blare of a siren filled the air accompanied by the blathering drawl of human voices, shocked and frightened. Something warm licked my skin, something unbearably hot in the cold, damp air. I looked at my pale hand, half covered by rubble, a single ember extending its warmth out to my body. Flames danced jerkily in the concrete gash, water pipes stuck out dribbling their contents into the earth, and the wind whistled in a maelstrom throughout the air above me. I looked at my surroundings. I had not remembered being there before, nor do I think I ever was, but I was there then, and I couldn't find reason to deny the fact. I took in the buildings that stretched into the sky like concrete claws, the heavily congested street with a mess of metal and fleshy humans, the broken chunks of road and shards of glass. Onlookers and passersby looking at me with incredulous stares, cases of metal with wheels tipped and facing every direction housed commuters who blared their horns and looked down on me, people housed in buildings peering through windows and out shop fronts. A woman in a blue uniform talked into and earpiece nonstop. Men in bulky, brown suits smothered flames with white foam and water. And there I was in the middle of it all. A man in a white uniform ran down to me, followed by many others like him. "Sir?" he asked, "Sir, are you alright?" I didn't answer. I couldn't find my voice. "Sir?" he repeated the question. "Everything is going to be okay, just get on to the stretcher." A metal and cloth stretcher was unfolded next to me. The men tried to lift me up onto the thing, but I shrugged them off. Their unfamiliar touch bothered me. I lifted myself up and lay down on it to their bewilderment. I realized that I probably shouldn't have done that, being naked in the unfamiliar environment. No tatter nor towel concealed me in the open air, but at the moment, humility was not on my list of concerns. The men talked over one another, trying to get a good look at me. They argued and rambled, some looked upon me as one would a miracle. The men then wheeled me into a white, brightly decorated van adorned with flashing lights, poking me and prodding me with devices and mechanisms as we went. As one of the men jabbed a needle into my arm, I felt a sharp sensation bristle up its length. This was pain, if I was not mistaken. The feeling seemed foreign and unfamiliar, the concept of the reaction restoring itself in my mind. The van started to life, and lurched out of position, still being examined and viewed. I could hear crowds over a mess of sirens outside. One of the men picked up a phone, speaking to some distant voice.

"He was in there," the man said, exhaustedly, "there was no way he could have survived that, but he did. He has no identification, no clothes, not even the remains of any devices, let alone ones capable of creating such an..." he glanced back at me uneasily, "such an event." There was a crackling noise on the other end, the man nodding to some unheard conversation. He glanced down at me, I smiled back, I felt that it was appropriate to smile when being observed. He nervously turned to pick up a clip board and withdrew a pen from his chest pocket, addressing me yet again. "Sir?" he asked. "We don't normally ask our patients information until they are fully healed, but," he looked down at my body, not an abrasion or bruise to blemish my body, "we see that you are not hindered. We need you to answer some questions. Do you feel up to that?" "I would be happy too." a voice replied. I recognized it as my own, soft and low albeit unhappy to have to talk. I made a few noises to my own amusement, testing out my vocal chords and feeling them hum in my throat. "Could you give me your name?" the man asked, perplexed by my actions. The answer should have come to me as quick as the question came, but as it happened, it did not. I searched and racked my mind for my name, any name, anything sounding like a name, but all I could remember was the mindless blather I heard before I came to. "No ," I responded. "What?" he asked, confusion invading his calm voice. "I can't remember. I don't know if I have one." The man muttered something hushed under his breath to nobody in particular, scribbling on the papers in his hand. Looking up, he said, "don't worry sir, you're recovering from shock, we're here to help." The ride was filled with more questions like the first one. Where do you live? Where were you born? How old are you? All were answered similarly. After what seemed like hours of different quizzings, the van lurched to a halt. The rear doors swung open, and I was rushed out the back. As we moved, I looked at the building I was entering; a sullen mass of concrete and glass adorned with a red cross at the highest part of the wall, adjacent to a sign reading Chromna Memorial Hospital. The inside of the building was just as bland as the outside. The air smelled of disinfectant and bleach, the floors looked a cluttered pattern of white and turquoise tiles, and creamy white walls with a blank white ceiling to match. I peered into rooms as we passed them by, seeing figures of various ages lying in bed and staring dismally into space. At the conclusion of the dizzying trip and several more nauseating turns and spins, I arrived at a room the same as every other one, except that this bed was empty, waiting to receive me. I moved out of the stretcher by myself, ignoring the outstretched hands to help. Dressed in a paper thin hospital gown, I placed myself on the thin, springy bed, and covered myself in a rough excuse for a sheet. I was left alone. No noise emanated from the room besides the thrum of the heater. Noises occurred outside, footsteps and creaky wheels accompanied by a low, constant chatter. The silence in the room persisted ten minutes, then thirty, then a whole hour. The sounds of footsteps just outside the door never ended; a bustle of patients and practitioners. I stared at the ceiling whose chipped, white paint never altered. Now what just happened? I thought quietly to myself. As I stared up at the of the ceiling above I allowed myself to be transported back to where I had been awoken from my noisy slumber. I remembered waking up in the pit, but never falling asleep there. Everything seemed unfamiliar. Even my appearance seemed alien and mysterious, no mirrors adorned walls in the room and the sunset sinking into the skyline obscured my features in the window. Extending a hand above me, I observed the slender fingers and long arms that extended from my torso. Looking back down, I noted the legs on my body were long as well, solidly built and seemingly strong.

Moving to the window, I picked apart my surroundings. The city outside was laced with streets which followed no visible pattern, a labyrinth of pavement and paint. Golden light shone between buildings as the sun dipped below the horizon, mingling with the clouds heavy with rain. I focused on the silhouette of my face, reflection too dim to observe. Why is my own face such a mystery? My eyes flicked to a second reflection in the window, peering over the edge of my bed. I turned quickly, startled, to see a child with auburn hair and a quiet face. She looked back at me, curiosity flickering in her eyes. Upon seeing my realization, A smile adorned her face, a small thing framed by ribbons of red bows which fell around her head on either side. She propped her chin on her palms, and spoke to me in a voice, high and sweet. "What's wrong with you, sick person?" she questioned. I raised an eyebrow, "What makes you think I'm sick?" "You are in a hospital after all," she giggled, "so I'll ask again. Why are you here, sick person?" "I'm not," I huffed, "and I don't know where I am, nor why I'm here." I turned away to once again stare at the window, the sky now dark, stars failing to pierce the clouds that blanketed the city. I saw her reflection join mine in the window as she lay across my legs. She wore a red dress that shimmered as she kicked her legs about. What is she doing? I thought to myself, I don't know her. "This," she said, gesturing out the window at the metropolis, "Is Chromna. You're here because something happened, yes?" "I..." I trailed off, "I just woke up here. In the middle of a wide place surrounded by people. Then they brought me here." "My daddy said there was an explosion downtown," she thought aloud, "perhaps that's where you were mister." My mind flickered back to the destruction and fire that I had awoken to. "Perhaps..." I muttered. "What's your name, mister not sick person?" she chuckled. "I haven't got one," I replied bluntly. "What?" a look of confusion following her remark. "I said I haven't got one," I repeated, "I can't remember a thing before my awakening here today." "Of course you do!" she pouted, sitting up on the bed. "Everybody's got a name, mine's Narcissa!" The innocent smile returned to her face, and my mouth could not help but mimic it. The feeling of my muscles forming the expression, returned to my memories. "So what is it then? Your name, I mean." she asked again. "I don't-" I began to repeat my claim, but I recalled the white, I had seen before waking up. The more I envisioned it, the more I became drawn back to there. The noises overlapped one another, a thousand voices speaking at once. The words warped and melded into one sound. A chorus of nonsense and gibberish barraging my ears. I focused on picking one thing out. Anything out at all. One word broke through the noises, shattering the rest as it faded away and I was yanked back into reality. I shook suddenly and found myself back in the room with Narcissa. "Are you alright, mister?" she frowned, "You suddenly froze up." "I'm fine..." I managed after mulling over what I had heard, "I just remembered something." "Your name?" she asked, giddily. "Only a word," I sighed. "So is a name," she joked, "you've got to pick something! People need their names to keep them themselves." The phrasing she used jarred me, but I dismissed the feeling, still reeling from the sudden shift in setting and lack of a past to claim. She hopped off the bed and

strode towards the door. "I'll be back tomorrow, mister. You interest me," she said, as she moved away, "Please pick a name for me by then, please?" "King, " I said, quickly. "Hmm?" she stopped walking, turning to face me, head cocked slightly to the side. "Please," I asked, "call me King." Chapter Two The next day was a jumble, filled with tests and all sorts of calamity. Narcissa visited me early the next morning, heralding with breakfast and much chatter to fill my mind with the ideas of the world I had awoken to. The sun rose over the skyline and a corona streamed brilliantly into my eyes. The young lady turned my head aside when she saw me stare into its brightness. "Don't do that!" Narcissa chided." You'll burn your eyes out." I felt tears running down my cheeks, and reached to my face, absorbing the new sensation. "Too bright," she chuckled. As I stared in the other direction something else caught my eye. A man in the room adjacent sat up on his cot, his head bent and his hands clasped together. I saw his lips moving, my ears picking up traces of the words he spoke. What puzzled me most was that the room, aside from him, was completely empty. "What's he doing?" I asked Narcissa, who turned to see the man I was referencing with my finger. "Who is he talking to?" "He's praying," she replied, matter of fact. "You must have really hit your head hard," she said after I regarded the word with a confused glance. "He's a Christian," explained Narcissa, sighing as if attending to a small child, "They believe that God listens when they pray and that he will be kind in return." I peered into the room. "I don't see anyone else in there..." I frowned, "Does he know he's not talking to anybody?" "He believes that God is his lord or his king, or something like that," she fumbled about with her words, "They say he listens when they pray." "Good kings respond," I grumbled, sitting back down. She regarded the remark with nothing more than a shrug, returning to the chatter as usual. I, however, could not take my mind off the man talking to no one in the room, as she fed me my bacon and eggs. Later, I was again tended to by the man from the day prior who had reached me before any of the others, still in his monochromatic garb, and looking slightly more tired. He cautiously introduced himself as Wenceslas. "The Doctors assigned to you have, in turn," he coughed, "assigned me to you. So if you need anything, just press the red button on your bed and ask for it." His arm trembled, I noticed his fingers fumbling aimlessly at his pen, his eyes dilated and weary. Wenceslas was nothing in the way of magnificent; a skinny man in scrubs too big for him, stubble dotting his jaw and bags under his eyes. His nervousness, among other things, arose that insatiable curiosity within me to gather knowledge and to understand all of this. I bit my tongue, restraining myself from rudely prying. "You can call me King, Wenceslas," I responded. I saw him open his mouth in surprise, but cutting him off, I said. "Narcissa assigned it to me because I needed some kind of name." "So you've met The Lady in Red then, have you?" He smiled. Others had told me of the nickname given to Narcissa. "She can connect to the patients like no doctor here can. Invaluable, really." He dismissed me with a smile, and turned to leave, reassuring me of unconditional help and of my memories. It was a sad smile, one hollow and plagued by sadness. As I saw him disappear out of the door, the sun stretched his shadow long, and I blinked, swearing I saw his shadow smile as well.

I shivered, rubbing my eyes, and pushed the phantasm from my mind. Sleep deprivation wracked my body. Left alone to my thoughts, I decided to lift myself from my post, and pace about the hallways. Feet touching the floor and feeling the cool sensation on my soles. I felt the icy chill shake my legs, swinging the appendages around to compensate for the shock. I wobbled about for a minute as I recalled how to walk, instinctively falling back into the rhythm. My feet slapped against the cold floor as I strode through the complex. After a while, the tiles turned to carpet, softer and warmer on my feet. Looking about, I found myself in a large room with desks and kiosks and lines of people, patrons sitting in rows along walls and at tables, nervously sipping at white cups filled with brown, bitter-smelling liquid. I became aware of all the sights and sounds around me, the noises and colors each with their distinguishable traits. I felt odd doing so, but I sat and tuned out noises one by one. I picked up snatches of conversations, worried family members, stressed doctors, children with no idea where they were. I closed my eyes and sighed. Amid the babble, I heard a voice perk up. "King!" My head snapped back and I sat up suddenly. Narcissa ran over to and wrapped me in a hug. I threw back my arms defensively, slowly closing them around her in return as she latched onto my body. I stroked her hair, soft and fiery, falling down in strands on my chest. I stared up at the ceiling, high and lit by hanging lights, room filled with hubbub. She unattached herself from me, beaming with an innocent smile. She was donning a new red dress, a backpack hanging from her shoulders. "Feeling up to getting out of bed already, King?" she asked, acknowledging my selfremoval from the bed. "I got bored," I responded, the little girl had earned my favor with her charitable kindness, "no use sitting around in that room." "That's good to hear," she laughed, "remember anything today?" "Nothing other than how to walk and hear properly," I shrugged, dismayed. "I'm sure you'll get everything back to normal," she said, reassuringly, sitting in the vacant seat by my side. "Have any trouble?" she asked, "With anything? This hospital is basically mine" "In time I suppose," I mumbled. I made a face, scrunching up my nose, "The hospital is yours?" "It's my daddy's, he lets me do what I please." "So that's why you're always here." "He..." she paused to find the words necessary, "He's very protective of me. Sometimes even too much. " she sighed, " I'm privately tutored, and he isolates me from everything and everyone. Says I'm too precious to not be protected." "Why don't you ask him to let up a little?" I frowned. "There's no point in that. It's impossible." "Things are only as impossible as you believe them to be," I said, almost immediately. She smiled, "If you say so, King. Who said that?" "I did." "I meant who did you get that from!" she laughed, sticking her tongue out at me, "It sounded like a quote, silly." "I can't tell," I replies, "I've been trying to access anything in my mind, but it seems like I'll just have to wait for things to reveal themselves." "Hmmm..." Narcissa hummed, concentrated in thought, "So what's so impossible with you, King? Seen a ghost or something?" she laughed, mocking a spirit and moaning eerily. I laughed, for the first time since I had awoken. It seemed like it was the first time in a while that I had. I wasn't sure what had hinted me to it, but I felt free and aloft. Maybe my situation wasn't so bad. Small tears gathered at the corner of my eyes as we joked and played.

"Don't leave, King," she said, quietly, after our laughter had died down. "The doctors here are my friends, but they're all intimidated by the idea of hurting my feelings and enraging my dad." She squeezed me tightly. "You're my only real friend." I had only known the girl two days now, but I felt like it had been a life time. Something twitched in the back of my mind. Protect her. I shoved it aside, spooked by its foreboding feeling. I needed no reminder, she was my only ally in this unfamiliar world. "I don't think I will be for a very long time, Narcissa," I replied. She smiled at me, and I returned it. We began to return to our joking, and I chuckled. "I might not have seen a ghost," I continued, "but I saw something scarier!" I made a scary face, and she laughed. "And what would that be?" She chuckled. "Tell me!" "I saw a shadow smile at me earlier today!" I had expected the little quip to incite more laughter, another tall tale to top the last. I had expected the mood to remain silly, to joke about the mythical and impossible. I had expected anything but what followed, as the light drained from her face, and her laughter turned to silence. She stared at me with wide eyes and a shocked face. "Are you alright?" I asked, frightened by the sudden change. "What's the matter?" "King," she dropped her head, "this is very important. Tell me whose shadow smiled..." "How'd you know it was a person?" I was getting scared now. "Just tell me, King!" she raised her voice, gripping my hospital gown as her fists clenched. "This is very important, tell me whose it was!" "I thought..." I gulped, "I thought I saw the shadow of the nurse who came into my room earlier grin as he left." "Do you remember his name?" her voice trembled. "I think it was Wenceslas," I recalled the scrawny man. Suddenly, I gasped as she pulled me from my chair and dragged me back through the halls and corridors, her pace not slowing a beat. "Where are we going?" I asked, yelling over the sound of rushing air. "To find Wenceslas," she called back, still running, "he's in trouble!" I did not understand her ties to the man, or why she was so interested in protecting him from whatever it was that lurked in the shadows, but I knew she was scared. I couldn't stand for that, she had done so much for me already, keeping me company and helping me understand this world around me. Scooping her up in my arms, I ran forward, taking long strides and seeing the hallways blur around me. She gasped as I bounded through the hospital. This sensation of running... It was fantastic. I was strong, and my legs tensed and stretched with each push. My eyes pierced everything around me, catching every face as it turned to look at me, only to whiz by in less than a second. "Slow down, King!" Narcissa shouted. I acknowledged her cry, but I did not want to slow down, I felt powerful. For once since waking up, I didn't feel so helpless. "Why are you so strong?" she asked. "I haven't a clue!" I laughed. "I like it though!" That was when I spotted Wenceslas. I stopped suddenly, and stared at him, bewildered. Narcissa's eyes filled with terror. "Oh gods..." she choked. I was shaken to the core. I had not spotted him first, rather the thing which towered behind him. A lumbering mass of shadows with two brilliant white eyes and a mass of writhing tendrils on its back rising from his silhouette on the floor. As Wenceslas scribbled away on his notepad, the monster grinned a gaping sneer, filled with light and nothingness, and it fiddled with the lights above them. "What is that?" I asked Narcissa, frozen in fear. I watched as a man walked through the thing without notice, while others completely ignored the hulking mass. "Why isn't anyone running?" I nearly screamed, drawing stares from those around us.

"It's a Shadow," she whimpered. "They can't see it, nobody can. Other than myself," she looked at me as she climbed out of my arms, "And for some reason, you." I opened my mouth to question her, this was impossible. As I began to make a sound, the thing tore the cables holding a light fixture to the ceiling. My eyes fixed on it as it ducked away from the falling glass and foundation, barreling down onto him. Whatever possessed me to run, I do not know. I should have run away from the disaster as time seemed to slow and Wenceslas looked up in terror, the shock in his tired eyes bright and apparent. But I ran towards him. I ran to the man who was too far away to reach, who was doomed to be crushed and die. Nothing could be done. It was impossible. But things are only as impossible as you believe them to be. The phrase resonated through me, and I gave one more push. The world ripped apart around me, and I was once again in the emptiness I had seen before my awakening. I barely acknowledged it, still running, and the world seemed to re-knit itself around me, hallway taking form and the falling debris suddenly around me as I reached out and grabbed Wenceslas. We tumbled through the sound as the wreck fell, all faces turning on me. I skidded to a halt just past the impact, a terrified and shaken Wenceslas in my arms. I felt scrapes on my back, but nothing major or even medical-worthy became apparent. A murmur and panic set in motion, many racing from the scene, some quick to pull out their cell phones and call, others running to the man who I placed gently on the ground. Even though I was swarmed over by panicked bystanders, my focus remained on one, definite thing. The Shadow, sensing something awry, spun around in my direction, hissing. "What do you think you're-" It burbled, a voice like a thousand whispers filling my ears, its shining eyes glaring at me. Its expression, inexplicably, became relaxed, as though recognizing a familiar. "Oh," it cackled, the silhouette of its body fading away into the background, "It's you..." "What?" I shouted after it, my mind racing. But the Shadow was gone, disappeared into the tiles and plaster. I was pushed back by the sudden crowd of panic and confusion. I fumbled all the way back towards Narcissa, who greeted me with an astonished look on her face. "King," she began, "how did you...?" "I don't know," I shivered, "I have no clue what just happened. "King!" she said, louder this time. "You just disappeared and reappeared!" She stared at me incredulously, bewilderment in her voice. "Had I blinked, I would have missed it, like you skipped half the distance between you two! " I dismissed her, urging her to leave the area with me. We returned to my room, forgetting the mess left behind. Upon the time of arrival to my quarters, I had explained the and everything that had transpired with the Shadow. I sat on the bed and she beside me in silence, as she absorbed everything I had told her. "So it really spoke to you?" she said, finally. "It did," I simply put. "And it recognized you?" she asked. "I don't think it could have meant anything else." "Then it's my turn to give you some answers," she said after a brief pause, sliding off the bed. "There's probably more to them than I had counted on..." she began. She told me about the Shadows and her life. Ever since she had been born, she had seen them; looming over people's backs and lumbering behind them. Her parents dismissed the visions as childish imagination, products of creativity. They appeared in her drawings and writings, until her father became convinced that she was losing her mind. Fearing the idea of her being taken away, he took her out of school, exchanging her initial life for private lessons and shelter, never letting her escape into the public.

She never stopped seeing them though. She said they always appeared when someone was about to die, and being in a hospital, she saw them often and in great numbers. Before me, she had given up on anyone ever believing her about their existence. Apparently, to my surprise, she had never heard one talk before. Each doing its silent deed, invisible and unstoppable. To those around us, it would have just looked like the ceiling collapsing, and not the work of a fiendish creature. "They're not the only things I see either..." she muttered, under her breath. My ears picked it up, but I refrained from mentioning it, the phrase taking up residence in my memory. "So nobody other than us knows about them?" I asked dubiously. "Not a single person," she sighed, "at least not to my knowledge." She yawned, and began to wander towards the door. "Promise me you'll help me find out more about them?" she asked me, "I really have to know." "Of course," I smiled, "You're my only friend I have, Narcissa." She smiled in turn, turning to look out the window. By then it was night time, the streets of Chromna lit up and aglow. "We'd best get some sleep," she yawned, "Goodnight, King," she said, as she walked out the door, and turned off the lights. "Goodnight." That night, I don't remember ever falling asleep. Chapter Three It was on the third day that my life began to change. I felt it in the back of my mind; an itch. Something urging me to do something I couldn't tell what. I sat in complete silence, pondering the odd sense I had discovered. My thoughts were disturbed by the creaking of the door. I looked up to see Wenceslas, standing abashed in the entryway. He fumbled with his arm, along which was a minor cut, long but not deep. He wandered over to me in a shaky series of movements. "It was you," he said upon reaching the foot of the bed, "wasn't it?" "What was me?" I asked, not wishing to explain the anomaly again. "The man who rushed to save me," he explained what I already knew, "I saw your face." "Ah," I replied," yes. That was me." "I'd like to thank you," his voice shuddered as he spoke, "I wish there was some way I could repay you, but I have no money to offer you... not with Mary's illness anyhow..." "I don't need money," I replied, hastily skipping over the first topic, "What's wrong with Mary?" "Mary," he sighed, playing with a colorful ring on his finger," is my fianc. Has been for quite a while now." He stared out the window at the buildings lit by the early morning strands of light that poked their head out through the clouds. "She fell ill," he continued, "and the wedding has been put off until she can recover. I've put aside enough money for a wedding, at least a meager one, and I've put everything else towards the doctors taking care of her." I looked at Wenceslas' lined eyes and sunken cheeks. So young, yet he had been through so much. "She's in Arcz right now, receiving treatment." "If I could do anything for you," he added, "anything at all, just ask, I want to repay you for your kindness." He was obviously not taking a no for an answer. "Well," I thought, hand raising to my chin, "actually..." Wenceslas returned not an hour later with clothes from his home. I dressed up in the jeans and t-shirt, shrouded by the light vest he had added in for the season, now brisk and chilly. I looked up, and for the first time, caught my reflection in a mirror he had produced from his bag.

My face was young, looking only that of one barely aged to adulthood, complete with green eyes and cheek bones, stark and pronounced. My hair, an inky black tone, was long and messy, hanging down past my ears and dancing around my neck. I admired my reflection; I did not look like a man who had survived two disasters within the last two days. After Wenceslas had thanked me again and left, I took it upon myself to set foot out of the Chromna Memorial for once. The shoes he provided me with, simple, used flip flops, made it difficult to move as I was used to, so I left them in my room, turning out the door into the hall. The glass doors of the entrance slid open as I approached. Cold air whisked past me, spiraling around me and tossing my hair about. I breathed in the fresh air, stretching and wriggling my toes on the concrete plaza. Clouds blanketed the sky, pools of light occasionally landing on the ground against the odds. Smiling, I began my walk, making careful checks on my surroundings. Not ten minutes into looking at shops and window displays, the itch returned. This time it was stronger, pushing my mind around and causing me to wince. I staggered slightly, attracting the gazes of a few locals. I quickly composed myself, sitting on a bench and attempting to ignore the feeling. This was to no avail, it was not as easily dismissed as before. It dug at the corners of my sanity. What is this? I thought. Make it stop! I ground my teeth together and walked aimlessly through the streets, making sure to find landmarks should I get lost. The more I tried to ignore the itch, the stronger it became. I recognized the sensation this time, linking it back to the Noise filling the Void before I awoke. It nagged at me with undying intensity, pulling me around and tugging at my thoughts. Suddenly, a familiar flash of red caught my eye, and the feeling vanished. I looked up and across the street to see Narcissa in her vibrant, red dress, the same backpack slung over her shoulders. I raised my hand and called out to her, but it was lost over the tumult of sound floating above the street. Rounding thecorner, she disappeared from my sight. I cautiously navigated the traffic and began to follow her, but she always remained just out of reach. After several lengthy streets and nonsensical turns, I realized I had lost my bearings. I increased my pace as to not lose her in the constantly shifting tides of pedestrians, ducking in and out of groups to get closer. She stopped at a corner, and I finally caught up to her. I caught my breath, beginning to form a word of greeting in my mouth, but no noise came out, my eyes were drawn to the thing before her. A crater was gouged into the ground before her. It filled the area where an intersection should have been. It dug deep into the ground, filled with workers sealing up pipes and laying foundation and scaffolding. Narcissa stared at it thoughtfully, and I looked on with confusion. There was no way it could have been what I thought it was. Narcissa jumped when she saw me standing behind her. "King!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing out of the hospital?" "Is this where I...?" I asked, the words finding difficulty in my mouth. "Where I...?" A worried expression crossed her face. "Yes," she said, turning to look back at the pit, "Whatever happened here should have been the end of you. That is, if it really did make this thing." She paused, only to look at me again seconds later. "Then again... there's been nothing normal about you so far, has there?" "I suppose not," was all I could manage. It was far deeper than I remembered, a gaping maw in the concrete. My eyes were transfixed on it, my thoughts recreating the events of two days prior. Narcissa saw my unhealthy obsession with the hole growing. "Come on, King," she interjected, pulling me away from the site, "let's get you back to Chromna Memorial before you're noticed missing." "I could say the same thing for you," I objected, "I thought your dad didn't let you leave."

"Just because we both snuck out doesn't mean I'll be noticed," she chuckled, "He's far too busy right now to pay attention right now." We walked together; to me a whirl of streets, and to her, a familiar complex. She pointed out several stores to me as we went, cafes and restaurants, malls and centers, all compiling themselves into a crude map within my head. When we reached the place where I had seen her, I positioned myself in the direction that I remembered the hospital being in. "It's this direction, isn't it?" I asked, confident in my memory for once. "Not quite, Atlas," she laughed, and began pulling me in the opposite direction. I blushed. "It's okay, King, you've only been out of the hospital for less than an hour, you'll get the hang of the place." She smiled back at me. Before we returned, she ducked into a cafe along one of the streets. The little place smelled strongly of bread and cheese, aromas bitter and sweet intermingling with them. She brought me to the counter, ordering us some beverages and chatting with the woman behind it. Sitting down at a small table, I sniffed at the strong brew the lady had produced. Its dense odor permeated my nostrils. I took a sip of it, and began to cough maniacally. "Are you alright there?" Narcissa asked, cocking an eyebrow. "B-b-bitter," I shivered, "very bitter." "Here," she laughed, "Try this instead." She pushed a mug in front of me. "Maybe you'll like this more." I sipped at the second, hotter, but sweet and dense. "It's delicious," I smiled, "what is it?" "The first one," she gestured to the first, "is coffee. The second," referencing the mug in my hands, "is hot cocoa." "I like the cocoa," I hummed, sipping contentedly. "I can tell," a kind smile spreading across her face. I returned the smile, and we began to chatter more. Of my fondest memories I could recall, the ones where I was just talking with Narcissa were the most pleasant. They were the memories where I wasn't worrying or frightened of everything. The ones where I wasn't concerned about monsters appearing and destroying everything. Of all times, the itch returned stronger, this time clearer and louder than before. Narcissa saw my look and sudden pained expression, and hers became worried. "What's wrong?" her voice was concerned and unsure. I tried to respond, but instead I just scooped her up in my arms and bolted out, running as fast as my legs could carry me. Whatever it was, instinct or just worrisome madness, my senses were buzzing and alarms were going off in my head. I couldn't understand it still, but it was telling me to leave. To get as far away as possible and not look back. "What are you doing, King?" Narcissa shouted, clinging to me suddenly. Again I could not respond, but the fear in my eyes revealed all. Somewhere in my mind, a memory crawled out of its vault and filled my thoughts. I knew not if I should be, but I was terrified by the word I recalled. A horrid word, accompanied by a foreboding sense of doom "Xerxes," I panicked. "What?" she asked, perplexed, beginning to shout. "What are you talking about?" "I don't know what I'm talking about, nor who or what he is," I tried to explain, "but I think... I know I should be very afraid of him." I felt a presence drawing close, like something breathing down my neck and glaring at me. I lost all strength, sinking to my knees all of a sudden. Another memory emerged; the stark outline of a man standing in the center of a burning castle, horrible laughter surrounding me, flames dancing in a wicked, twisting fashion. "King?" Narcissa pleaded, "King, are you alright?" I looked up to see the world pulling in on itself, constricting like fabric gripped in a fist. I gazed into it, frozen in sheer curiosity and fear. It tore open meters above the street to reveal an emptiness like that which I had been through twice now. All the dread in the world filled me as a

maelstrom of darkness crawled out to the horror of on looking citizens, tendrils cutting gashes in the ground and sending cars and pedestrians in every direction. "King," Narcissa whimpered, shrinking up to my chest, "What on earth is that?" The itch peaked, I could hear it echoing its warning. And even though I wanted to obey, I stood rooted to the spot, watching as the hole grew wider amid shrieks and frantic chaos. Run, the itch said. I watched as the hole shimmered and shook, a horrible sound emanating from it. Run, it repeated. A foot emerged from the inky darkness, connected to a leg clad in only a ragged, torn pair of faded pants. Run. The body removed itself entirely from the rip in space, looking around at his fearful spectators as his face contorted into a toothy grin. His hair was a mess of wispy black and white hairs, sticking out in every direction. Only the ragged pants and a large belt around his waist clothed him, torso and arms bare and covered entirely in tattoos. The inky spirals and angles covering his body seemed to shift around his skin and leash off, arcing around his thick arms. He stared down at me with golden eyes, gaze remaining on me. His grin revealed sharp teeth, interlocking with each other in a menacing embrace. The air felt thick in his presence, and I slumped down under the weight. "Xerxes..." I shuddered. His face filled in gaps in my memory. I knew nothing of him, but my every nerve told me that if I were to remain too long, he would do more than just scare me. "What's the matter?" he cackled, hungry eyes glinting from out the darkness, "Is that any way to greet an old friend, King?" Chapter Four The terrifying man refused to break his gaze. Even as my mind screamed at me to make as much distance between the myself and the man who stood far above me, my mind craved more. Aside from the elusive Shadow, this was the first person to actually address me, and the first by any name. "King," I said, mouth dry, "my name is actually King?" "What?" Xerxes' snapped, his tempered voice raspy and grinding like steel on a whetstone, "No, of course it's not your gefunnin' name! "Then why did you call me that?" I called back, cradling Narcissa closer. "Have you finally gone loony?" Xerxes roared, "I called you King because there's nothing else to call you. You have no name!" As confusion spread across my face, he growled, "What are you up to?" "Hey!" Narcissa interrupted, crawling out from my arms and walking towards him, "Don't say that to my friend!" Xerxes eyed her contemptuously, tattoos sliding from his body and forming an inky staircase to the ground. The hole behind him clenched shut as he stepped down to earth, the staircase dissolving and reforming on his skin as he progressed. Narcissa glared up at the pale giant who stood before her, his fangs bared and fists clenched. She showed no fear, something I could not claim for myself. "And who do you think you are?" he snarled. "I'm Narcissa!" she proclaimed, "and he," she pointed at me, "is King. So you can't tell him otherwise!" "Little girl," he huffed, "you are of no consequence to me. I am only here because that man we call King is in my interest. So please," the tattoos on his arms morphed into a long curved blade, "leave now." He lifted the blade, now fully formed in his hand, over his head and swung it down at her. The movement was far quicker than Narcissa could react to, and she stumbled back to no real evasion. I ran for her again, attempting to recreate the jump from the hospital hallway.

"Don't touch her!" I yelled, the world ripped apart again and reshaped myself in front of Xerxes. He looked at me with a fury burning in his eyes as I pushed him back, the blade devolving back into ink, sliding back with its master and smashing into a car with a crunch. I turned back to Narcissa to ensure her safety. "You saved me, King!" she shouted, jumping onto me, "I knew you would." "Don't do that next time," I said, chidingly, "I didn't think I'd make it in time." "But you did, didn't you?" she asked, smiling. "Next time he won't," an angry voice hissed. I jumped back just as a jet-black pillar crushed the ground where I had stood. Xerxes lifted himself from his wreck, inky tentacles whipping about him, "Drop the girl, and get over here," he ordered, "and do it now!" The impact had not phased him, let alone damaged him. Where the ground was smashed below me only rubble remained. "Never," I replied, resolutely. I couldn't waste another moment talking. I turned and bolted around the corner. I became aware of my surroundings again, sirens blaring in the distance and steadily approaching, general local panic, abandoned cars littering the streets. I heard the sound of Xerxes roaring after me and screams from the epicenter of the roar, but he had gone in another direction. Shoving through the crowds of fleeing citizens, policemen attempted to maintain any level of order. "Chromna's going insane," Narcissa said, pity in her voice, "He's going to wreck the whole city..." "There's nothing we can do about it," I said, firmly, finally emerging in front of the crowd, "you saw his tattoos. You saw how powerful they were. Had I not moved, my legs would have been obliterated." A shadow passed over us, and Xerxes dropped down ahead of me, suspended from four black legs extending from his back, sinewy and arachnid. With that horrible grin on his face, he lashed a whip of ink at me, knocking me back and sending me flying through the crowd. "What's the matter, King?" he cackled, "Why don't you fight back?" I scurried away from him, shielding Narcissa. His vindictive look vanished, turning instead to malice. "What's happened to you?" he growled. A gun fired, and Xerxes' head jerked sideways. I looked in the direction of the shot to see a police officer with a gun smoking at the tip, arms steady and eyes determined. Xerxes turned his head towards the man in uniform, pulling the bullet from the side of his head with his fingers, inky black blood oozing from the wound. He roared again, and the cop drew back in fear, spinning into a run. He fell in mid-dash as an inky shard lodged itself in the back of its head, and further screams grew from the onlookers. Other police drew their guns and fired on him as Xerxes set upon them in turn. I bolted again, running through streets littered with disaster from the approaching massacre. "We need to get away," I said to myself, then turning to Narcissa, "Name someplace, anywhere very far away from here!" "Um," she stumbled, caught off guard by the question. Her glance turned as we sped past a large poster displaying a vast city unlike this one."Premreo!" she yelled, pointing back at the advertisement. "Right then," I said, looking back where I was heading, "tell me how to get there!" "What?" she screamed, "You can't get to Premreo from here! It's hours away even by plane, and that means crossing an ocean." "Well, then I have no clue where we're going!" We approached a park, far enough from the commotion now that people were unaware of the situation. I glanced around, a network of paths all led into the center, in which a tall fountain stood. Vendors and street performers occupied most of the paths, others bustling about

in the area. I noticed Shadows looming about the place, hovering over people like specters. Narcissa noticed them too but to my surprise, she did not seem to mind. "Why are there so many Shadows?" I asked her, "Shouldn't we do something about them?" I was still jumpy from our experience with them prior. "I haven't quite told you everything," she said to me, "I didn't think you'd be leaving the hospital any time soon." she saw my eager look and continued quicker, "The shadows only really act like that in the hospital." "What do you mean?" I asked. "When they appear over a person in the hospital," she explained, "they usually take their life. Out here," she said, "they do something I can't explain." She referenced a crying child with a Shadow stalking him, more proportionate to his size. The shadow subtly steered the child in another direction as he wailed, until he came to a woman, who upon seeing him, scooped him up into her arms and held him close. The shadow only smiled and disappeared. "See? It helped the kid find his mother," she said, "I don't get it." I thought for a moment, brow creased. "It's almost like they dislike sadness..." I postulated. Narcissa nodded, looking around nervously. I looked at the gaunt figures, noting how each shadow's mouth was shut, a stitched line marking the indent. Why had the one at the hospital's mouth been open? I wondered. Nearby, Xerxes burst from another rip in the air, this time sparing his theatrics. He was painted in a mix of red and black blood, drops flying from his muscular frame as he walked. The rip sealed itself up, and the park erupted in chaos, Xerxes nonchalantly whirling a pair of inky blades and spattering inky blood across the ground. "I grow tired of your games, King," he growled, wiping blood out of his eyes, "tell me what's going on or I'll kill your little girlfriend." "Where do we go, King?" Narcissa whispered, panicked. There was no way to outrun him here, nothing to hide behind or duck around. Only empty space and the sound of disorder filled the gap between Xerxes and myself. We were finally trapped, I couldn't escape him. An idea entered my mind, and my face lit up again. "Premreo," I answered Narcissa. "What?" she asked, her body jerked as I broke into a sprint. "What did you say, King?" she yelled. "We're going to Premreo!" I yelled over the wind rushing through my hair. "You better have an explanation for this," growled Xerxes, reaching to a tattoo on his arm and snarling. The tattoo peeled off of his skin, twisting into an enormous battle-axe. He brandished the new weapon, screaming as I charged towards him. "Stop running!" I envisioned the city from the image on the wall, the rustic roof-tops, the open square, the ancient structures; I focused on the image and charged forth. The world began to unwind itself, and Xerxes' eyes filled with bitter rage as he saw it. "Give me what you promised, King!" he screamed, tattoos lashing out at us as he leapt to grab me before I could disappear. His form was torn apart as he was unraveled with the rest of the view, and his bellows faded into echoes. Chapter Five I tumbled out of the emptiness and into an alleyway, world refilling the hole behind me. An echo of Xerxes' scream resonated around us briefly, fading away into an obscure ringing sound. Narcissa crawled out from my arms and stepped into the mouth of the alley. "No way..." she gasped, arms slackened and her bag dropped to the ground. I joined her, treading over the dark cobblestones into the light. "I told you so," I chuckled, not sure of how I had just done what I had. Before us was a vast plane of bricks and shops, identical to the one in the poster back in Chromna. People

bustled through the marketplace, chatting in a foreign language. The smell of fresh bread and sizzling grills filled my nostrils, an entirely new feeling from the city where I awoke. Narcissa, however, was not focused on the city, so much as she was on me. Her eyes remained transfixed on me even as I stared back down at her. her expression of wonderment and curiosity betrayed her age, she was far smarter that any child, and knew that what I had done was without a doubt impossible. "What are you?" she asked finally. "I..." I began to say something I had not thought of yet, and trailed off. I caught my reflection in a mirror, and stepped closer. My appearance had changed. Two strands of hair, straighter than the mess on my head, extended down from just above my ears. My eyes sported green streaks throughout the irises, drawing away from the pupils. In addition to this, my features were sharper; cheek bones slightly more pronounced, ears longer and eyes more stern. Narcissa noticed as well, coming over and feeling the new hair. "Where did these come from?" she asked, not expecting an answer. As she stroked it, my skin bristled, pins and needles crawling across my skin as though touched by an icy wind. "More importantly," she continued, "how did we get here?" "It's the ," I said, giddily, unable to contain my enthusiasm, "I think I'm starting to be able to control it." "It 's like some kind of..." she hummed, thinking, "some kind of worm hole or something..." "Whatever it is," I sighed, "it's saved our hides." I grabbed her small hand and looked back down the alley. "Time to go back," I said, with finality. I pictured Chromna's labyrinthine streets, and pulled my thoughts from the cobblestone field behind us. "No!" my concentration broke, as Narcissa tugged on my arm and pulled me out of the shadows. She looked up at me with wide eyes, pitiful in any regard. "Can we please stay for a bit?" "Your father will be worried," I frowned, "I know nothing about this place, it'll be safer back at the hospital." "But that man is still back there!" she pleaded with me, "give it a while, and wait for him to be gone, and anyways..." she looked down abashedly, "This is my first time leaving Chromna. I want to explore where my father can't be constantly holding onto me." I looked down at her, dubious of what I was going to have to say. After a few seconds of pointless deliberation, I sighed, and knelt before her. "One day," I said, " promise me we'll only stay here for one day and a night, and then we return." She looked up, beaming and pleasant. "Pinky promise!" she cheered, wrapping her small finger around mine and kissing it. "Well then," I laughed, returning the gesture, "let's not waste any time, shall we?" The open streets of Premreo contrasted sharply with the crowded canyons of Chromna. The sound of the market buzzed above us despite the sun's decline in the sky. Talk dominated the air here as opposed to the mechanical thrum of engines, the strange, unfamiliar language filling my ears. A mix of scents permeated my nostrils, and the buildings, held close together, formed a wall and transformed the cobblestone roads into a maze of alleys and backstreets. Narcissa's home tutoring of the language came in handy as she dragged me through the shops and eateries; a rapid, fluctuating sound which seemed to meld the words together. She gaped at the unfamiliar sights and structures, myself trailing behind and holding bags of shopping courtesy of Narcissa's seemingly endless wealth. It was only after hours of exploring that the sun set, and we felt the weight of our day on our shoulders, and Narcissa pulled me into a small restaurant.

As we waited for our waiter to arrive, I sank into my chair and took in a deep breath, spices in the air swirling about my mouth. I set the bags down, stretching my arms and legs and adjusting my clothing. Sipping from water on the table, I sighed a breath of relief. "What is that sound you're making anyway?" I asked "It sounds nothing like the language in Chromna." "You don't recognize it?" she asked in return to my question. When I replied with a shrug, she thought for a moment . "King, do you even know what language you're speaking now?" "I assumed this was just how people spoke," I laughed nervously. "You're speaking Ahngerish," she told me, "and the language they speak here is Eterian." "Can I try?" I asked. Narcissa responded with a laugh that turned several heads in the restaurant, the din not quite managing to cover it up. "What's so funny?" I frowned. "I can't just teach you Eterian on the spot," she explained, wiping away tears from the corners of her eyes, "it takes a while to learn." "Well that's not fair," I frowned. Our food arrived, and we began to devour the dishes of meat and noodles garnished with sauce. After we left the building, Narcissa's funds paying for the feast, we walked around the city for a bit longer. The sun was beginning to dip into the skyline, setting the city awash in color. Street lights began to flicker on in unison, illuminating the ever-busy streets. We found a seat on a bench, and watched Premreo's night life emerge. "Re..." I finally muttered. "What was that?" Narcissa asked, stretching and yawning, the day finally weighing down on her too. "Re means King, right?" I asked, "In Eterian, I mean." "That's right," she chuckled, leaning on me and getting comfortable. "Why do you ask?" "Well..." I mused, "how did I know that?" "You..." she began, trailing off to think. Her eyebrows furrowed, and her gaze fixed upward. "I don't know how you knew that. Perhaps you spoke Eterian before your accident," she postulated. "I suppose it's possible..." I frowned, "Maybe it's a good thing I came here. Seeing other places might help me jog my memory." "Then it's settled!" Narcissa declared, standing up, "We'll stay here for another day!" She tossed her bags at me, and turned in the other direction. "Wait, where are you going?" I called after her as she ran into the crowd. "Bathroom!" she called back. "I haven't gone since we left Chromna!" I made a halfhearted effort to chase after her, but lost sight of her, and returned to my post. Suddenly, I was alone; The bench, occupied only by the bags in myself, remaining unsettlingly silent amid the sea of sounds. My mind began to wander, taking me to far off places which I could only guess of their existence. I was soaring among the clouds and the stars and the heavens, untouchable. The daydream revealed nothing overall; no memories to be found therein and no words to be recited. The world, seemingly hell bent on breaking my concentration, placed a young lady on the other side of bench, who sighed as she sat down and crossed her legs haphazardly in her revealing azure dress. She knocked her head and long blonde head back, earrings jingling with the motion. I glanced at her briefly to observe the new company, but then returned to my thoughts. "You speak Ahngerish, buddy?" the woman asked, my daydream breached yet again. I looked at her again, noting her now noticeably revealing dress covered her body. "No?... damn it," she scowled and turned away.

" I speak Ahngerish," I replied, turning my gaze back to the stream of pedestrians. "Oh thank the Gods!" she exclaimed, an exasperated undertone, "I swear, this place is suffocating me with its parties and culture and historical this and historical that..." "You seem to be pretty involved in it all," I replied, indicating her attire. "I'm only here on vacation, my friends are forcing me everywhere," she huffed, "You wouldn't know what it's like entering a world that's a complete mystery to you." "Actually..." I muttered, lowering my gaze and folding my hands, "I understand it pretty well." She opened her mouth to rebut, a harsh glare upon her face, but snapped it shut again. Her features softened as she slumped down even further. "Sorry about that," she said, cautiously, turning her head away and fiddling with a multicolored ring on her finger, "I don't know what came over me... Long night, I guess..." Her expression was tired, her arms slumping as though she'd been carrying an enormous weight. "My name's King," I said, extending a hand out towards her, "I too am here with a friend." "King, huh?" she replied, looking up and shaking the hand I presented. "Funny name, that. I'm Lucrezia." Despite her smile, a tear was making its way down her cheek. I watched its path, seeing it trace the lines of her face. Slowly, a hand, seemingly made of pure white porcelain, extended out and caught the tear on its finger. I turned to see an angelic figure, shining and flawless in the light. Wings and hair resembling glass shimmered as they quivered about. It clutched her tear in its fist, gazing at her with a mask-like face, glassy skin unmoving like the rest of its body. Lucrezia noticed my attention shift to the angel, and she too turned to look. "What are you looking at?" she asked, eyes distant as though they were staring straight through the winged doll before her. My wonder was replaced by curiosity almost immediately, and I turned back to the lady I had been addressing. "Nothing," I replied hastily, eager to find out the identity of the masked being, "just thought I saw something." Why can't she see it? "Seems like you're pretty exhausted too," she laughed, "if you need a place to stay, there's a hotel just around the corner from here. That's where I'm staying. They have a couple rooms left." As she spoke, the Angel paced around her, inspecting every angle and reaching out to touch her now and then. I recalled Narcissa mentioning that the shadows weren't the only things she'd seen. Perhaps, I thought, it's like the Shadows. But Lucrezia seemed happy. The tear had been of relief, not misery. As I talked with her, I pondered the being's intentions simultaneously. Abruptly, the angel took flight, gliding over a crowd. Still aloft, it leaned down to the ear of a man and I saw its mouth move, whispering something as he walked along. Shifting my attention back to Lucrezia, I dismissed the possible threat, and took up the conversation. "Hey, lady," a gruff voice said, and we both turned to see the speaker. Lucrezia did not know him, but I immediately recognized him as the man whom the angel had spoken to. She still lingered behind him, watching eagerly. "Why don't you ditch this loser and come be with a real man?" He snarled at me, grinning in his confidence. His voice was tinged with an Eterian accent, but he spoke the language well. The clich line, however, did not impress Lucrezia. "Buzz off," she said, "You reek of alcohol, and I doubt you could walk home without my help right now." His face reddened with anger and she chuckled. "What's the matter?" she teased, "Lonely?" "Don't you talk to me that way!" he yelled, attempting to look impressive, but only stumbled over his own feet. Lucrezia began to laugh, and he lost control of himself. The angel behind him grabbed his arm and swung it back. He completed the motion by swinging his fist at her, eyes enraged and nostrils flared. I saw it before she did, and I reached out to grab his arm. I caught the blow centimeters from her head, and she gasped to her sudden realization, shrinking back, frightened.

"Let go of me!" he grunted, attempting to remove his arm from my grasp. I refused to budge, standing up from my seat and holding his arm away from her. Narcissa returned at this time, confused by what she saw. His temper rose as the little girl viewed him, embarrassed by his predicament. "Damn you!" he cursed, swinging his other arm at me. I reacted faster than I had anticipated. In a moment of instinct, I jerked his arm to the side, throwing him off balance and spinning. My free hand automatically pulled back and pushed forward with an open palm into his side, sending him reeling. The angel appeared by his side again, lifting him up and sending him forward towards me again. "That's a..." Narcissa began, startled by the sight of the angel, but whatever she said after was lost to me, the man taking immediate priority. He swung with one arm, and I braced myself for an impact which never connected, as my arm rose and brushed the blow aside. His expression was helpless, confused by my unreal speed and strength. I too was perplexed, unsure as to how I had managed the feats, but I was not one to complain. I again pushed him back with my hand, this time with full strength. The force was stronger than I thought possible. Upon contact, he flew back into a wall and slumped down. Narcissa and Lucrezia were both agape, a crowd began to form around the man and the din grew. The Angel, its mask now adorning a scowl, dissipated into the night. "King!" Narcissa exclaimed, "How on earth did you do that?" I attempted to offer my lack of an explanation, but Lucrezia suddenly grasped both of us by the hand. "Come on," she said, warily, "we need to get out of here before people start pointing." I grabbed our belongings, and we were both dragged along by the lady, fleeing the scene in hopes to escape unnoticed. "What's going on King?" Narcissa asked, "Why were you in a fight?" she looked around, leaning in close to whisper, "What was an Angel doing with you?" "I'll fill you in later," I whispered back, glancing at Lucrezia. We had just arrived at a building several stories tall, lit up and inviting in manor. Lucrezia heaved a sigh of relief as we approached the entrance. "This is the hotel where I'm staying," she explained, "judging by your bags, you don't have a place to stay yet." We entered the vast lobby, decorated by plants and pools of water set in marble floor. "I'll help you pay," she added, "it's the least I can do to pay you back." "Thank you," Narcissa smiled in return, "but that won't be necessary. I have plenty of funds to pay for it." "I don't think a twelve-year-old's allowance could afford something like this," she chuckled in return. "Actually," I nudged Lucrezia, "she bought all this so far, and we've only been here since this morning." I referenced the bags in my arms, and she replied with an astounded look. "Well then..." she fumbled, withdrawing a piece of paper from a desk and scribbling on it with a pen," here's my number if you ever need my help." She folded it up and passed it to me. "Thank you," I smiled, "I will keep you in mind." We said our goodbyes, and she stepped into an elevator. Narcissa and I advanced towards the desk, and she began to grab for her wallet. "It's probably better if you do the transaction," she said. "Most adults wouldn't allow a girl of my age to get a room on her own." She passed me a plastic card, and instructed me on how to use it before we reached the desk. The man behind it addressed me in Eterian, making me nervous. I didn't understand him, but I made my best attempts to remain calm, or at least to look the part. "Um," I began, "hello, I'm King, and I'd like to-" "Ah, yes!" the man interrupted in perfect Ahngerish, "Signor Midas told us you were coming." "I... I'm sorry," I stammered, confused, "Who's been expecting me?"

"A very influential man," he said, smiling, "who has entreated you to his quarters." He handed me an ornate key the color of gold, heavy and intricate, features shimmering in the light. "It's on the top floor," he added, "you won't miss it." I looked back at Narcissa, who shared my befuddlement. I returned my focus to the man, but he had already become concentrated on another customer. "What should we do?" I asked Narcissa. "What else can we do?" she replied. "We're going to have to find someplace to stay anyways." "I could take us home now if we really need to stay somewhere," I said, but even I as I said it, I had already begun walking towards the elevators on the far wall. My curiosity was becoming too great to not have a look at what lay ahead. "What am I doing? " I moaned, as the elevator door slid open. "Hopefully the right thing." Narcissa replied, solemnly as the doors slid shut. My weight lurched, and I felt the elevator begin to rise, suspense weighing down on my shoulders more than inertia. "So what happened out there?" she asked. I retold the events that had transpired in her absence. She seemed most interested about the Angel, but her focus shifted to my newfound strength. "I saw when you did that," she said, "you pushed him away like he weighed nothing." "And I fought with a technique I'd never learned," I added, remembering the lightning reflexes my body had utilized. The door opened, and revealed a spacious hallway. No doors were sat into the walls, no rugs covered the floor, and no light hung from the ceiling. Despite this, the hall was illuminated in a bright white which emanated from between the cracks of tiles. The walls and ceiling were also an intense white to match, leaving an atmosphere of uninterrupted until the end of the corridor. At the end was a massive pair of doors, reaching as high as two of myself, and spanning the entire hall. Our conversation forgotten, we approached the massive entryway, entranced by its grandeur. The wooden frame was carved to resemble pillars with vines scaling their length, the doors themselves a red shade and wrought of an unidentifiable material. Upon reaching it, I felt a hum shake the floor, and slight crackle in my ears. I withdrew the key from my pocket and located the lock, an enormous, golden handle connecting the two doors. I looked to Narcissa, who nodded at me, holding onto my arm. Inserting the key, I twisted, and was greeted by the sound of gears and cogs within. The lock spun into two pieces, forming two golden handles. Together, we pulled open the door. Chapter 6 Revealed to me was a vast room, circular in shape and domed in gold. Along the circumference, doors of various materials were spaced evenly, each marked with a unique symbol. As we stepped in, each footstep resounded about the space. The door groaned and slammed shut behind us, cogs once again whirring inside of it and ending with a light click, audible even as a minute sound. The ground, marble with little veins of gold wire working throughout the pattern, extended as an enormous plain of stone. Scattered amongst the room were pedestals and sculptures, giving the place the air of a museum. The walls too were adorned with art, paintings of various styles and subjects hanging in extravagant golden frames. A light thrumming filled the room, like the snoring of a beast beneath the floor, yet the vases and sculptures did not shudder or shift. "What is this place?" Narcissa asked, her voice ricocheting around the room.

"There's no way that this could all be on the top of that building," I said, awe hanging in my voice, "This place doesn't seem to have an end." From behind us, I heard a slow clap. We spun around to find a third presence in the room, a man in most peculiar fashion. His hair was styled so that the golden hairs looked like cotton wisps, bouncing slightly as he walked toward us. While his attire mainly resembled that of a butlers, his arms were clad in shimmering, golden armor. From his hip hung two long, furry tassels, which, as he drew closer, I discerned to be donkey ears which jostled back and forth with his step. A golden disk was wrapped around his head at eye level, almost glowing as though it were a halo. "Bravo, my liege," the odd man said, "you are quite right!" "Who are you?" I asked, positioning myself in front of Narcissa as he paced towards us. "I'm glad to see your temper hasn't diminished," he remarked, "it would be a shame if the King lost himself with his memories." "How did you-" I began to ask, but the man raised a finger to my lips. "I know a great many things, my lord," he interrupted, "but now is not the time for questions." He snapped his shining fingers together, and two chairs rose out of the floor below us. Pushing us gently into the chairs, he smiled. "Now is the time for answers. "You don't know me," he sighed, calling up a chair of his own, grander and more ornate than the stone pedestals on which we sat, "but you did not too long ago." He sat down and adjusted his black tie, fiddling with it curiously. I glared at him, and he sat up straighter in his seat, continuing his explanation. "My name is Midas, and this," he said, beaming as he gestured to the boundless dome, "is the Golden Room." "The Golden Room?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Not so much of a room actually," he added, "it's more of a vault. A vast structure erected within the Void." "In the what?" I asked, my confusion growing. "So you really don't remember," he sighed. "This might set our plan back a bit. I'm assuming you didn't travel across the world in the ordinary fashion," he messed about with his hair, "you took a shortcut, right?" He smiled upon seeing recognition in my eyes, and snatched a glass sphere from a nearby pedestal. "Imagine the universe we live in is the realm of possibility," he continued, referencing the face of the bauble. "In this realm, breathe, sleep, and live out our lives. We also have definite rules which we must abide by, such as time and space." He traced his finger around the surface from one point to another on the opposite side. "Now imagine that there is a second realm on the opposite face," he said, tapping the sphere, creating a hollow sound. "In this existence, the rules of the first realm don't apply. Distance is irrelevant, time is only speculation, and," he drove his finger through the glass, piercing through both points he had previously traced, "travel is much quicker." I observed the hollow ornament, now impaled on his finger. Somehow he had managed to apply enough force to the glass to break through it without smashing the entire object. He noticed my intrigue, and smirked. "Precision," he stated, "without it, power is useless." He removed the bauble from his finger and replaced it on its seat. Leaning forward, he propped his chin upon his hands. "Was my demonstration satisfactory?" "I think I get it," Narcissa replied. "The Void is that open, white space that King uses to jump from one place to another." "That's one function of it," Midas smiled, "but you seem to have the basic idea, so I won't reiterate." "So that's why this place is so huge," I concluded, "and why it all fits on top of a building. In the Void, it's not part of the world, so space isn't an obstacle."

"You're learning quickly," he replied, unable to mask his happiness. "What about the Shadows and Angels?" Narcissa asked him abruptly, "do you know anything about them?" He regarded her with a puzzled look. "The dark things that hate sadness!" she added. "And the light things that-" "You can see them?" Midas interrupted. "I've been able to since birth," she added, a tinge of hope in her voice, "and people think I'm crazy because of it." She sat up and grabbed Midas by the shirt. "Please," she begged, "tell me what they are!" "They're a physical manifestation of Fate," Midas explained, patting Narcissa's head and smiling, "nothing to be worried about. They work together in tandem to keep the happiness and sadness on earth in equilibrium." The Angel, now that I thought about it, had not appeared until Lucrezia smiled. The Shadows, likewise, had not appeared until sadness plagued a person. I shuddered when I thought of the first Shadow's method of eliminating misery, perhaps the Angels were the same. "So why can I see them when everyone else can't?" she asked, voice trembling. The golden man's smile disappeared. "I'm afraid I don't know," he said, "but there is a man that I can talk to later who probably does." Narcissa sighed, and plodded back to her seat. "Don't be disheartened," Midas said softly, rising from his post, his chair sinking back into the floor, "He will arrive here eventually. But for now, it would appear that you two are in no condition to hold further conversation." I didn't bother to protest or deny the fact, Narcissa did neither. We were exhausted, the quiet of the Golden Room lulling us to sleep. "Is there any place for us to stay?" I asked, looking around at the enormous collection of artifacts. "King, my friend," he replied, "you're in the Golden Room." He gestured to the walls where doors were set into the stone. "Of course there's space." After nearly an hour of searching, I found a spot to my liking. Behind each door was a different room; some were completely empty and the size of warehouses while others