“Home… What does that even mean anymore?” Mana asked herself.

Life had dealt her one blow after the other. She’d lost Lacia early on in their journey as it quickly became one of the darkest periods of her life. Their brief reunification had reignited the passion she had for her, but she couldn’t escape the icy undertow of the tide as she watched Lacia and Aria summon a supernova of light and heat that incinerated everything in its path.

Regardless, her reckless abandonment couldn’t be tamed. She’d leapt back through the interdimensional doors, immediately greeted by a blistering heat and searing pain. Stupidity would only set her and Brendan back, but it was impossible to convince her that she was the one who wasn’t thinking straight.

She sighed. “I don’t know anymore. I thought what I was doing was the right thing, but now I’m not so sure.”

Clouds morphed into different shapes before warping through a glass-like crack in the sky, eventually exiting out another. There wasn’t much difference between the grassy plain she’d landed on and Earth, but nothing could compare to actual home. The days turned into weeks and the weeks into months. Some days she felt happy and ready to take on the world, and, others, she wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and die. More than anything though, she just wanted someone to hold her and tell her everything would be ok, that they’d figure it out—together.

Grass tickled her back as she gazed up at the endless sky. Despite now residing in an entirely different world, the sky resembled the same azure blue she’d stare into on warm, spring afternoons back on Earth. She reached out a hand, closing her fist around the halo of the sun before letting it fall back onto the grassy terrain. She lifted her hand, watching how the tiny green blades bent under the weight of her hand before they straightened themselves back out.

“I hate it here. There’s no one around for miles, I have no cell-signal, and Brendan won’t stop playing that damn ‘guitar’ he made.” A warm breeze blew through her honey-blonde hair. Its length was testament not only to its growth, but her growth as a person. It wasn’t that she couldn’t find a way to cut her own hair, she just didn’t care. A rush of wind swept it up into the sun's rays before finally settling against the midsection of her back again.

She used to care about every little thing in her life, which isn’t to say she ever stopped caring, but having to endure such a barebones lifestyle, hunting and foraging for food, shivering under blankets at night from the lack of a heater, and no internet connection, she had to pare things down. There just wasn't anything left to care about; survival had become a top concern aside from searching for Lacia and Aria. She couldn’t bring herself to believe they were dead.

“Heeey, Mana,” Brendan shouted, “lunch is almost ready, so come in for a while. Besides, you might want to be here for this.”

Intrigued, she stood up and brushed herself off before heading back to camp. They’d found an abandoned RV as soon as they arrived and were shocked to find it fully-furnished—a small amount of food had also been left. Beds were neatly made, and pillows were aligned against the headboards, ready to comfort the next person who laid their head upon their soft, cottony down.

It seemed eerily coincidental that a fully-furnished RV with food would just be sitting there, waiting for them. Initially, Brendan had tried to argue that the owners might eventually return, but the thick layer of dust that lined the countertops made Mana think otherwise.

She stopped at the base of a small hill where two makeshift grave markers had been erected in Aria and Lacia’s honor. She knew it was pointless, but she would ask anyway:

“Brendan, do you think they’re still alive? Out there somewhere, in a place we don’t even know about?” She would receive the usual reply in response:

“I don’t know, Mana. I wish I could tell you they’re safe and everything is going to be alright, but I can’t promise you what I don’t know,” he would say. She didn’t blame him.

She knelt before the grave markers, placing one hand on top of each. Talking to empty graves didn’t do much good, but it at least made her feel a little less alone. She’d run over to vent when Brendan got on her nerves, or she just wanted extra companionship. It had been a lonely time, and she’d occasionally catch Brendan doing the same thing. Of course, they never mentioned it to each other.

“Well, it’s been two years as of today. I don’t know what we’re doing anymore, and it seems like we struggle a little more everyday just to get by.” She paused, half-expecting Lacia’s voice to come out of nowhere, telling her it was going to be ok, but the only voices came from the trees in the wind, leaves rustling in soft whispers. “Brendan’s been a good sport and has really opened up to me since your fight with Ahzef—”

“Mana, are you coming?” Brendan shouted from the windows of the RV.

“Duty calls,” she said with a weak smile. She kissed two fingers and lightly tapped them Lacia and Aria’s grave markers. “I hope this is good news,” she whispered. “Please be with me, Lacia. Aria, please grant me your courage to make it through these long, drawn-out days.” She stood up and turned to face the RV. “I’m on my way Brendan, relax. It’s not like we have somewhere to be.”

“You’re kidding me,” Mana said. A look of shock crossed her face. “You knew Lacia?!”

“She wasn’t here long, but in the time she was, she was so genuine,” a female voice spoke. “I’d never met someone like her before.” A large cloak obscured much of the girl’s face, but Mana could tell she was being truthful.

“Can you tell us anything about what she was doing while she was here? We got a little short-changed on the details after some, uhh, things happened. She has a tendency to get along really well with other girls her age though, so I’m not surprised she opened up to you.”

“And feel free to remove the cloak. We’d like to get to know you better, especially since you knew Lacia,” Brendan added.

The girl removed her hood, waves of brunette hair falling across her forehead. “My name is Lyra. As for Lacia, I wouldn’t say we were on terms like you three seem to be, but…” She stood up, pulling off the rest of the cloak. “Ughh! This thing is so stuffy! Anyways, Lacia was very kind, but we were attacked by someone, or, I guess, something—I still don’t really know what happened that day—and she ended up with an arrow in her side which is when she just kind of… disappeared.” Lyra fanned herself with her hands. “Is she here now? With the two of you?” Mana and Brendan exchanged nervous glances. “Oh, I see. We don’t have to talk about this now, then.”

“It’s fine. Besides, I think I can explain,” Brendan said. His blonde hair turned to gold under the interior lights as he rummaged through a small cabinet. He placed a pen and paper on the table in front of Mana and Lyra. “This,” he said, tapping on a circled sentence that read You Are Here, “is your world, Lyra.” He pointed at another circle, adjacent to the first, that read Alura. “This is where we’re from, our home country back on Earth. Underneath both of these worlds is a place called—”

“The Reverse World,” Lyra spoke softly. “Are you saying that because of the interdimensional shifts we’ve been experiencing, it’s allowing travel between our two worlds?”

“I do,” Brendan affirmed. “There was someone else with us—Aria. She got caught up with Lacia trying to fight Ahzef. Somehow, we all managed to get the door to this world open just in time, but Mana and I were the only ones who made it through.”

“I knew it was possible to travel between dimensions, but I can’t believe you came face to face with Ahzef and lived. My hunch is that he’s trying to merge our worlds together which would explain the odd rifts in the sky, too.” Lyra turned to look at Mana with tired, brown eyes. “And you’ve been to see Omnis, haven’t you? Your magical energy is so pure.”

“Uhh, yeah. Once or twice, but I think we can add a little clarification to your theory. Azhef specifically told us he wants to devour all of these different worlds so he can rewrite them as he pleases.” She looked up from the paper. “Why do you ask about Omnis, though?”

“And more importantly,” Brendan said, “how do you know about Omnis?” Lyra focused her attention on Mana as she answered her question alongside Brendan’s.

“That’s not something I should disclose right away… Sorry, but let’s just say I knew you were coming. While Lacia was here, she met you, Mana. What she didn’t know was that she was subconsciously manifesting her desires, but for a person to be in two separate dimensions at the same time—”

“They would need a halifer, right?” Mana queried.

“Not quite. Halifers are only a small part of the equation. Your prior existence in this world is theoretically possible, yes, but that’s only if Lacia held a power we call Mahiruma—a power that allows the wielder to split their consciousness.” Lyra opened her mouth as if to say something, but Mana had already caught on.

“So how was she able to split an entire other person’s consciousness, then? Mine.”

Lyra shook her head. “Not even I know the secrets behind those that wield Mahiruma, but there’s a few old legends that describe something like this.”

“I see.” Mana stared at Brendan’s drawing once more. “We have magic on Earth, a naturally-occurring energy the planet produces itself, but it can’t do anything crazy like split consciousnesses.”

Brendan placed the pen down on the table with a small, but attention-grabbing, click. A short list of bullet points ran down the page. When had he taken notes? Mana had been so fixated on learning more about Lyra’s mysterious appearance that she hadn’t noticed Brendan’s furious notetaking.

“Alright, so… We believe Ahzef is responsible for the interdimensional shifts, but this isn’t for certain, and we still don’t know what it means to devour or rewrite a world. Lacia’s ability to split her consciousness is also theoretically possible, but not how she created an artificial consciousness, and from my understanding,” he paused, making eye contact with Lyra, “you are also aware of the halifers and Omnis, perhaps the most interesting piece to this ever-growing puzzle.”

Lyra nodded. “I guess there are still more mysteries than answers, huh? I wish I could be of more help. Sorry, again,” she said glumly, “but what I can do is at least tell you the name of this world.” She stood up and gestured out the window. “Welcome to Chiipha,” Lyra said, flashing a bright smile.

“Chiipha… It’s kind of cute,” Mana giggled. “Don’t be sorry, though. You’ve been a great help.” She gave Lyra a smile of her own. “What I want to know now is why you were alone. And why the cloak?”

The sudden symphony of insects signaled the arrival of early evening as the sun’s rays began their descent upon another day. Clouds turned the color of rust. They’d occasionally find themselves in heaps of giant orange fluff as they floated through the various rifts. A cool, late-spring breeze whisked through the hills, trapping the cooler air between their valleys.

Mana couldn’t shake the feeling of a certain uncomfortableness despite having grown used to Chiipha. She sensed the same uncomfortableness in Lyra, but maybe it was just her own paranoia. If Lacia and Aria had defeated Ahzef, then why did she still feel so uneasy?

“Actually, we can totally discuss this later. Why don’t you stay here for the night? I’d love to hear more about this world and what you were doing out there, wandering alone,” Mana said, offering hospitality to yet another stranger. “What is it with me and letting everyone into the places I live?” she thought.

“That sounds wonderful. I’d feel much more comfortable being around you two than spending another night wandering in the dark.” Lyra’s voice was tired, and her muscles were tense. Several small cuts and bruises dotted her arms and legs. A larger cut across her cheek mired her fair-skinned complexion. “Please let me know what I can do to help. I fully intend to pull my wei—”

“No ma’am. You sit right there, and Brendan and I will have dinner cooked up shortly. Feel free to use the shower in the back of the RV while you wait, too,” Mana smiled. “You’re the first person we’ve seen besides each other in two years. I feel that if we put our heads together, we might finally have some answers to all of this madness.”

Lyra seemed to relax at the thought. “I know you asked about the cloak, but I think that’s a conversation for tomorrow, honestly. So, what’s for dinner?”

“I’m glad you asked,” Brendan said, now fervently chopping away at a mysterious plant.

Night fell upon the RV’s inhabitants before they realized it. Crickets chirped in the grass as fireflies dotted the cool, muggy air. Two moons blanketed the hills in pale lunar essence as they traversed the never-ending sky. Surprisingly, Chiipha felt more like home at times than Mana realized, but that didn’t stop her from climbing onto the roof of the RV for some alone time beneath the stars. The life she once knew had changed in ways she never could have imagined, but the cool Chiipha nights made her feel just a little closer to a long-abandoned reality.

A light breeze drifted over the hills and into the field, silently caressing each blade of grass before sneaking onto Mana’s skin. She held a hand to the sky again, this time closing her fist around a handful of stars. Nights like these eased her weary mind, but tonight she was restless. The new information Lyra had presented to them that evening shook the foundation Mana had been rebuilding over the last two years. New cracks began to form in the holes she had tried to patch.

“Even if there’s the tiniest fraction of a percent she could still be alive, I will find her.” A passing cloud temporarily blotted out the stellar showcase. “I don’t know. Maybe Ahzef did want to merge Earth and Chiipha together, but he clearly wasn’t making the progress he was hoping for. Maybe the Reverse World isn’t the only thing we need to be worrying about.” She sat up, frightened by the thought. “It’s too late to run this by Brendan and Lyra, but I really feel like we've overlooked something important. What, though?” She wracked her brain as she replayed events from day one at the school to her first encounter with Omnis in Seria—even the struggle against Ahzef. “Ughhh. If there’s something there, I’m too tired to find it,” she said as she swung her legs over the side of the RV. Her feet hit the dewy ground with a soft thud.

Brendan and Lyra were fast asleep as Mana opened the door. Lyra seemed especially relaxed. Her covers rose and fell with each silent breath she took.

“I’m glad she feels like she can rest easy,” Mana thought. She quietly opened a cabinet above the sink for a midnight snack before crawling into bed herself.

There was no use in dwelling over the day’s events all night, especially not when she still had to deal with the aftermath of Mana Contraction Syndrome. Her magic had grown stronger and increasingly well-balanced, but she’d lost much of her physical condition. Like Lacia, Aria was also gone—her only lead in finally kicking the night-sweats, fevers, and shortness of breath that came with the debilitating aftermath of MCS.

“Nothing I can do about it now, and I can’t perform if I don’t get some rest.” She turned towards Brendan and Lyra’s beds, whispering a soft “Goodnight” before succumbing to sleep herself.

The night was misty, creating a glaze on the roads as city lights reflected in the watery mirrors. An icy cloud of breath erupted from nearby pedestrians as cars eased through the soaked streets. Cold and wet, a combination that would make anyone shiver. Alleyways formed cramped corridors between buildings, just wide enough for a person to cross from one side to the other—an ideal location for shady business-dealings or criminal activity. Neon signs flickered and buzzed as various stores and restaurants flashed by the tinted windows of a dark car.

“Here,” a deep voice demanded.

The car rolled to a gradual stop as water spiraled up from beneath the tires. A rusted sign bathed a small section of sidewalk in a warm, orange glow despite the chilly atmosphere. Dressed in a white suit and tie, a strange man stepped out from the passenger side of the vehicle. He was lanky, but an ominous aura poured from him like a toxic fog.

“Excuse me,” another male voice rumbled. A mysterious man stood in the shadows, hidden from the light. The toes of a pair of black suede shoes and the brim of a hat were barely visible. “Crappy night, huh?”

The man in white turned around, surprised at the informal address. “Yes, I suppose it is a rather foul night, I agree. Might I ask your name and what your business with me is?”

“Ah, yes. Where are my manners?” he said, stepping into the streetlight. My name is Zheff, and I have a proposal I think you might like.” The rusted shop sign began to flicker erratically. An elongated shadow stretched out behind him. “I will happily be on my way if you would oblige me, Mr…?”

“Just call me Jetto.”

“Very well then, Jetto. I am willing to pay you handsomely for your help. I believe your little shop here has something I need.” Puddles began to freeze as the shadow overtook them. “What say you?”

Jetto crossed his arms. “Ten minutes and then you need to leave.” He looked around nervously. “And how might I address you?”

“You may call me Zheff, and that’s plenty of time,” Zheff hissed. “Your services will not go unrewarded.”

Jetto scanned the area for any uninvited guests—lurkers in the shadows. “Looks like you’re it. Come in. Don’t need anyone else botherin’ us tonight. I have been waiting for you, and only you.”

Zheff’s shadow retreated as he stepped further into the light. “Very well then, lead the way.”

Dim fluorescent light struggled to illuminate the small shop. Shadows loitered in the corners, ready to leap onto the floor at a moment's notice. A foul odor, a mixture of mildew and wet paper, permeated through the walls causing Zheff to wrinkle his nose. The shop didn’t have much to offer: a few rusted bicycles and an occasional murky glass case, the contents of which remained a mystery. Jetto motioned for Zheff to follow as they walked past a large display of exotic plants.

“You’ve got a little bit of everything here it seems,” Zheff mused. “For such a small space, there sure do seem to be many rooms.”

“Looks small on the outside, but on the inside, this place is a maze.” Jetto walked behind a glass counter. A small click came from a locked filing cabinet. “We keep a tight record of everyone who comes in here and why. Take a few minutes to fill this form out,” he said sternly.

Zheff happily obliged as he hurriedly jotted down name, address, and reason for business. A light burnt out in the room behind him as his shadow exercised free reign. The form was time-consuming—a trivial matter, but he’d come this far. He handed the form back to Jetto who locked it away in the filing cabinet.

“Good. Follow me. I think I know just what you’re after,” Jetto said. “Better hurry or you’ll get lost. This place is really quite astounding.”

Several minutes later, the two men walked through an arched doorway into what must have been a relic of a library. The room was expansive: gothic-style windows, arches that curved around the vaulted ceilings, and stories-high oak shelves packed with countless books and journals.

“Marvelous… There are troves of ancient literature here, from what I can see. Do you happen to have anything dating back to a certain familial conflict from a couple hundred years ago, perhaps?”

Jetto chuckled. I can go as far back as—” A book fell to the floor with a soft thump and flap of pages.

Zheff knelt down to pick it up. “It seems you landed on a very interesting page,” he mumbled. “These are almost certainly Dumiere’s notes.” He fervently thumbed through several more pages. “It looks like I’ll be leaving with more than what I came for…” An enthused smile crossed his face. “Isn’t that right, Miss Lhumin?” Zheff brought the book closer to his face. Incomprehensible terminology and unfamiliar names were etched in now-faded ink.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

“We have the only official record of the Searing Wounds conflict,” Jetto sneered. “That is what you’re looking for, correct? The Lhumin family is thorough, but not thorough enough.”

“It would seem so.” Zheff hastily shut the book. The faint scent of paper stock flew from the pages. “I would suggest you start running, girl.” Zheff broke into a fit of maniacal laughter. “See you soon…”

Mana’s eyes shot open as she jolted awake, narrowly missing the low ceiling above her bed. Light filtered in through the shades of the RV-–an indication that she’d slept longer than anticipated. She allowed her eyes a moment to adjust to the daylight.

A cold, wet sensation greeted her hands as her mind immediately jumped to Lacia and her one blood-soaked evening—where the craziness all started. Momentary panic swept over her before she realized it was just sweat, but she was soaked and so were her sheets. Hurriedly, she undressed and stepped into the RV shower to rinse off—the sheets could come after she was clean.

Life suddenly seemed so much livelier with Lyra around, but the question remained: why did she wait two years to come forward? Warm water rushed down Mana’s face, forming small streams at the tips of her fingers. There had to be more to the story, yet there was still so much she didn’t understand about Chiipha. She didn’t want to ask questions, though, and have the answer stare her in the face. The linking of Earth and Chiipha would have implications—that much was clear to her—but what kind of implications, exactly? Was Ahzef hoping to devour both worlds at once? She pushed her wet hair back, fingers firm against her scalp.

“This is all so exhausting,” she said exasperated. “I still haven’t figured out what Omnis meant by unlocking the door to the grand maze, either. The first half of the riddle referred to the halifer which brought us to Aria and then here—”

A sudden tightness in her chest caught her attention. She moved a hand above her breasts as her heart began to race as if she’d received a shot of adrenaline. There was no time for clothes. She pulled a towel from the rack outside the shower as her stomach dropped like she was on a rollercoaster. She stumbled out of the shower, dripping wet and cold.

Spots formed in her eyes. Blood rushed to her head as her mind grew fuzzier by the second. Brendan and Lyra were outside, but the contents of their conversation were lost in the encapsulating numbness that filled her mind. Miracles weren’t her thing, but she’d be sure to reconsider if she could just make it outside. Dark spots continued to fill her vision as she glimpsed the RV door.

She placed her weight on the handle as the door swung open, bright sunlight blinding her the rest of the way. Lyra was saying something, but Mana felt like she had lost all understanding of language. A shrill whistle echoed through her mind before her body went numb. Surprisingly, her vision began to clear, but she felt like she was underwater, crashing onto the ground.

Lyra crouched down in front of her, elbows on her knees. Her face was mired by curiosity and concern. A turquoise hue enveloped her fingertips as she placed them across Mana’s forehead. Her lips were moving, but all Mana could focus on was the reverberation inside her own head. In full panic mode, Lyra darted off towards Brendan for help.

“It seems you are not doing quite as well as I had hoped, dear child,” a familiar voice danced around in her head. “You have made progress, however. You children are indeed fascinating to watch.”

She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. Her body felt weightless, and her thoughts grew clearer. The tightness in her chest began to ease as she finally steadied her breathing. Subconsciously, she knew she had returned to the Hall of Memories and that Omnis had likely summoned her back, but why? And after two whole years?

“Wha—?”

“Do not worry about your friends right now, child. We have a lot to talk about.” A sense of urgency had crept into Omnis’ voice. “Join me for tea, won’t you?”

“Reading minds now. So that’s where two years went,” Mana chided sarcastically.

Suddenly, she found herself face-to-face with her own reflection in a wall of crystal-like water. A sparkly skin-tone eyeshadow and dark eyeliner made her eyes pop; her cheeks no longer resembled Chiipha’s limited harvests—hollow husks, devoid of substance. A subtle blush enhanced her replenished cheekbones to top off the look.

“I actually look alive instead of like I’m on the verge of starvation,” she said, admiring her reflection.

A small table and chair set appeared in the center of the hall. Cute, floral cloth with lace trim topped the table. “A lady must keep her appearance up. I think you’ll soon understand why I stress this importance to you, especially.” Omnis paused for a moment. “Why don’t we have a verbal conversation instead?”

“That would be much easier, if you don’t mind,” Mana said joyously. “I sound like I’m talking to myself, but I hope you’ll be able to answer some of my questions, too.”

“There is a limit to what I can and cannot tell you, but the answers you seek are not far behind.” Omnis began to pour a round of tea. “Two years ago, you met Ahzef at the border of Alura and Gila. Tell me, what was that like?” A teacup floated its way into Mana’s hands.

She recounted her experience after a small, minty sip. “It was terrifying. All I could think about was how afraid I was, and not just of Ahzef. I didn’t want to lose Lacia again, but I couldn’t stop her.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I can’t cry, though. I have to be strong for her because I know somewhere out there, in all of this madness, she’s trying to find her way home,” she sniffled.

“I see. That is certainly a setback, but I had planned for this.” The rich magical energy in the air began to shift. “Mana?”

Scalding-hot tea spilled over the side of the teacup in Mana’s hands. “Yes?” she said, startled.

“I think it is about time I showed you one more thing, but you must do something for me first. In Chiipha, there’s a town called Chronid. Go there and find a woman in a black dress with a red ribbon in her hair.” Mana sat up, trying to focus on what Omnis was saying while nursing her burns. “Her attire will be similar to the one I gave you back in Seria.”

“Alright. Am I to assume I’ll need my dress as well? And what about Lyra? I don’t know if she has anything like that.” The burns on her fingers began to throb. She winced.

“Treat your burns, dear. I apologize for startling you, but it would be better for us to be on a name basis of sorts. As for that girl…” Omnis’ form briefly shimmered as new outfits seemed to sport themselves through different wavelengths of light. It was like a fashion show of light and color. “This one will do if she is unable to procure proper attire for herself,” Omnis said, laying a beautiful white dress lined with golden trim in Mana’s hands.

The mana in the air returned to a settled state. Mana placed the dress in a magic material-like storage for easy-access and safe-keeping. A pale green light shone from both her palms as she remedied her burns. She looked at Omnis and heaved a sigh. The answers she sought still eluded her, like a game of cat and mouse. A dress for Lyra and hot-tea burns weren’t how she envisioned their reunion.

“You’re conflicted. I understand, but for the time being, I cannot involve myself any further. Go to Chronid, and I believe you may find what you’re looking for as well. You will know what to do from there.” Omnis raised a teacup before placing it back on the table. Something wasn’t right.

“You felt that too, didn’t you?” Mana asked, unseating herself.

Omnis’ voice relayed in her head. “Go to Chronid and remember what I told you. Things have progressed much quicker than I had anticipated.”

Mana’s ears popped as the pressure in the air spiked. Her chest felt heavy, like someone had laid a pile of bricks on top of her. A loud thumping sound coursed through the hall. The tea on the table shook in its porcelain cups, sloshing back and forth—a motion that seemed almost symbolic. If the last two years had taught her anything, taking this moment to flee for granted would be a mistake. The atmosphere was charged with agitation and a familiar, yet unique, malice. A golden light surrounded her as she realized she’d be returning to Chiipha, regardless of how she felt.

“How do I get to Chronid?” she shouted, the distance between her and Omnis growing by the second.

“Lyra will guide you. The devils have grown exponentially more powerful, but they still cannot access Chiipha. We will talk later.”

A blinding plume of golden light overtook her body. She shielded her eyes from the heavenly luster. Traveling through time and space wasn’t such a bad deal, though the reality of the devils’ growing strength and the unknowns of Lacia and Aria’s whereabouts felt more like a nightmare than it did a pleasant reunion over tea.

“I didn’t think our fight was over, either,” she thought. “But I still don’t recognize this new energy…”

As she removed her hands from her eyes, she found herself surrounded by fluffy white clouds and oversized stuffed animals. “Either I’m having a nightmare now, or I’m inside a ten-year old’s dream.” She scanned the room. Pastel pink and white brandished everything she laid her eyes upon: drapes and curtains, throw pillows, blankets. She blinked a few times, unsure if she was the one dreaming. “Ok, yeah…” After several dizzying three-sixties later, she still had no definitive answer. “What is this place?”

“Hello. Did you come to play with me?” A child’s voice was calling out to her.

Mana spun around so fast her hair whipped her in the face. Re-tucking caramel tresses back behind her ears, she turned her attention to the little girl in front of her. Whoever she was, she was staring directly at her, making her increasingly uneasy. Something else caught her attention, however—the masking of a powerful aura, but who’s, and from where?

“Who are you, and where are we?” Mana asked soothingly, careful not to frighten the girl. “Could you tell me how I got here?”

“You have big boobs,” the little girl blurted out.

Mana’s face couldn’t decide on a reaction. Gratitude? Confusion? “I know I heard that wrong. There’s no way she just said I have big—”

“Big boobie lady, will you play with me?”

Mana gave a half-sigh, half-stifled laugh. There was a first for everything, but a child telling her she was well endowed? That was a new one. Still, despite such an innocent, and unexpected, question, she remained cautiously on-guard.

“Well, can you tell me who you are and where we are, first? I’ll play with you if you can tell me that, alright?”

The child beamed a flashy smile at her before running away, leaping into a large pastel-pink cloud. She stuffed a hand inside before returning with a chunk of what looked like… cloud cotton candy? Things just kept getting weirder, and she still hadn’t received the answers to her questions, which, at this point, she assumed probably weren’t coming.

“This is like a dumbed-down version of Candy Land. This is crazy,” she thought, “but I guess I’ll have to play along.”

“Here!” The little girl handed Mana a chunk of candy-cloud, staring expectantly. She knew that face well. It was the same face she’d used as a little girl herself when she wanted something. “Try it!”

Mana bent down, graciously accepting the, hopefully edible, gift. She smiled. “Thank you very much.” She lifted the candy-cloud to her lips and pulled a chunk off. It was as sweet as she expected it to be, a nice, melting tingle of sugar and softness; she felt relaxed, and mana restored. Apparently, there was more to the candy-cloud than she realized.

Not only did it replenish her mind, but it also seemed to right her magic circuits. The depleted mana in her body had acted as a poison; the magic became trapped, unable to escape, decaying as it gradually broke down the cells in her body. Like stale air, fresh mana had become unabsorbable, requiring a metaphorical open window to refresh the room. As such, her body had never fully mended—even after recovering from MCS.

“Yay! Big boob lady is better! Now she can play,” the little girl squealed, jumping with joy. A large puff of white cloud towered before them. Mana watched as a child-sized doorway opened at the base.

“Oh boy. She wants me to crawl in there with her, doesn’t she?” Mana locked eyes with the little girl, offering an endearing smile. “Would you mind telling me who you are at least?”

The little girl looked at Mana and cocked her head from side to side, determining whether or not she wanted to give out such information to a stranger. Her eyes held a child-like innocence, a mysterious concoction of pale lavender and hazel.

“Firah.”

“Oh my god. She finally told me her name, but that still doesn’t explain what this place is or what I’m doing here.” Mana sat on her legs, level with Firah. “This whole place is a giant maze of pastel fluff and sweets,” she thought. Things were crazy enough already, but trying to ascertain what this child was only made her head hurt. “Firah, if I play with you for a while, will you tell me how to get home?”

“Yes,” she said with a melancholic tone.

“Being in such an isolated place would make anyone lonely. Finally having a playdate must be the most exciting thing to happen here in some time.” Regardless, Mana felt guilty about trying to leave. Firah was still a child, after all… right?

“Tell you what,” Mana said, lightly pinching Firah’s nose, “I’ll play with you until you get tired, and then I have to go home, ok? If you tell me how to get to your world, I’ll come back and play some more when I finish my work.”

Firah’s face lit up. “Pinky promise?”

Mana held out her pinky finger. “Pinky promise. Now, should we go have some fun, or what?”

The inside of the cloud resembled a medieval castle: elaborate, plush furniture lined the halls and various multiplicity of rooms, large paintings hung on the walls, and tall ceilings converged into gothic spires at the top. A red carpet rolled down the center of a long corridor as large, cloth banners dangled from someplace in the ceiling, too high to see. Embroidered in the cloth itself was an odd symbol, but Mana couldn’t place where she’d seen it before.

She quickly found herself dragged down the corridor as Firah hummed the tune to an unknown song making it near-impossible to get a better look at the embroidery and the mysterious symbol. Every miniscule sound echoed through the castle, unhindered as they scoured every nook and cranny. A single footstep would echo for what felt like minutes, trawling deeper and deeper until the sound eventually faded away.

“The first game we’re going to play is Servant,” Firah announced as they entered an open kitchen and elegant dining area.

Everything was so clean. Mana could even see her own reflection in the marble countertops several feet away. Porcelain kitchenware gleamed in artificial daylight, silver steel utensils and ladles also gleaming with splendor and decadence. The kitchen was enormous, but lacked modern appliances, instead opting for something more akin to medieval Alurian culture: wood-fired stoves, an open hearth nestled beneath large, glass windows, and empty cauldrons. It was an unexpected mix of modernity and medieval culture.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” she dreaded.

“Mana will be Firah’s servant. You do what Firah tells you,” she demanded excitedly. “First, bake Firah cookies. I want chocolate chip!” She pointed a finger at Mana.

“Is it suddenly a little drafty in here or is it just me?” The steady swaying motion of a silver ladle caught her eye. Two yellow objects were reflected in the stainless steel. “Oh. I’m… in my underwear. I see… So, you want me to make you cookies in my—”

“No! Firah has Mana’s uniform in her room.” She pointed to the corridor. Hesitantly, Mana followed her finger. A floating cloud-arrow directed her down the corridor to what she presumed was ‘her room’.

She sighed, following the arrow. “It’s going to be a long playdate, isn’t it? This is what I get for entertaining children.” Several minutes later she stood in front of a door, her name engraved in the wooden nametag. “Why do I feel like this was a bad idea?”

After changing into her supposedly assigned outfit, Mana returned to the kitchen and dining area where Firah sat, fully engaged in a coloring book of beautiful women in gowns she had never seen before. The shuffle of Mana’s clothes against her body pulled her from the book.

“Mana looks super pretty,” Firah beamed. “Firah picked it out herself!”

“I’m not so sure about this, Firah,” Mana said awkwardly.

She twirled around in a full-length mirror, donning frilly maid attire. Straps crossed her back, holding a white apron in place with a bow. Lace made up the trim of the skirt, falling just above the knee—white stockings, held up by lacy garters, lined her legs. A pair of sleek, black Mary Jane shoes offered a small boost in height with their blocky heel, completing the look.

Firah began to chant. “Cookies, cookies, cookies!”

“Okaay… I get it, but do I have to be wearing this?”

Firah abruptly ceased her chanting. A look of sadness, then anger, crossed her face. She looked as if she were about to throw a temper tantrum, that of which Mana was not equipped to handle. She clenched her jaw, preparing for the worst.

“Note to self: Children are way too demanding. Definitely not having later,” she decided.

“Do you not want to make Firah cookies?”

“No, that’s not it, sweetie. I—”

A deep scowl from Firah cut her off. There was no worming her way out of this mess. She needed damage control, but the damage had already been done. She made another note not to upset small children—especially entitled little girls. To think she was upset over her questioning of the attire for cookies, of all things, baffled her.

“Future reference,” she mumbled.

Somewhere in the large cloud-castle, a heavy door slammed shut—likely another part of the place she had yet to see. Mana shifted her weight from foot to foot, unnerved by Firah’s continued scowl. If she could remove her outerwear just by pointing, she didn’t want to know what else this child was capable of, but that brought another concern to the forefront of her mind: Firah wasn’t a normal child, so what was she?

“Firah,” Mana treaded carefully, “let’s play another—”

“No!”

“Yep, she’s definitely mad.” Mana cursed, reprimanding herself for not being more careful. “These last couple of years have definitely ruined my social skills.”

Without warning, a large document procured itself in Mana’s hands. The thick, scratchy pages began to turn on their own. There must have been at least several hundred pages—all penned in ink and labeled with different subheadings. The pages ceased their flurry as Firah stared her down. Nervously, Mana read the page aloud as Firah pointed to her mouth:

“Page five-hundred and forty-three… Those who disobey the orders of the Crown that binds Earth and Chiipha will be subject to disciplinary measures akin to those outlined in this constitution.” She paused, afraid to read any further. Her attempts at damage control had failed—miserably, but the mention of ‘Crown’ and Earth and Chiipha piqued her interest… and looming sense of dread.

“Continue,” Firah demanded.

Uneasiness swept over Mana. She stumbled backwards, her shoes echoing loudly in the empty chamber. Regaining her balance, she tried once more to reason with Firah, but to no avail. It seemed the subtle approach wasn’t going to work; sweet-talk was useless, though she wasn’t sure why she thought Firah would even listen at this point. The whole ordeal felt like something much bigger, and dangerous, than a traditional temper tantrum.

Dismayed, she continued: “If there is no current Crown to helm the throne, all duties of the throne and associated actions are relegated to the princess. These terms are binding and non-negotiable. Disobedience is not tolerated.” It took everything for Mana not to puke.

“Such an unladylike term, but,” she cleared her throat, “I’m so fucked.”

“Bye-bye Mana. Firah wishes we could have played more.” She crossed her arms defiantly.

Chills immediately raced through Mana’s body as she sprinted out of the chamber and into the main corridor, her dress fluttering behind her in the wind. Loud clacks resounded through the corridor as the heels of her Mary Janes struck the stone floor. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she wanted to be as far from Firah as possible. Her mind raced through every possible scenario: a nightmare, an admittance of fault to gain favor, surrendering to Firah in general—it was all a moot effort.

How she wound up stuck at the halfway point between Earth and Chiipha was a mystery, but the fact that there was one only made things increasingly more complex. Worlds existed between worlds like the flesh of an apple, hidden behind its peel, but the flesh hides the seed, another entirely separate part of the fruit.

She spotted the child-sized entryway she’d crawled through earlier as she turned the corner. To her dismay, it had already begun to close—and fast. There was no time to think. Even a moment’s hesitation meant she could be trapped for god knows how long.

“If it’s just made of clouds, I should be able to go straight through it, right?” The tiny entry was now no bigger than a couple feet wide. She barreled forward as she leaned in to force her way through with her shoulder. “Here goes nothing!”

Time slowed to a crawl as the distance between her and the cloud-wall closed. She felt like she was running a marathon on the moon: her lungs screamed for oxygen, her muscles were on fire, and she felt like she was getting farther away, rather than closer, to the entryway. Regardless, there was no turning back. She found herself with two options: either she punch through to the other side, or she turn around and figure out what Firah meant by “bye-bye”. The latter didn’t sound as appealing, especially considering her ominous glare.

A loud pop stemmed from Mana’s shoulder as she made contact with the wall of clouds. Last time she checked, clouds weren’t solid objects. How could a wall of clouds be as hard, if not harder, than concrete? Her momentum propelled the rest of her body forward as she lost her balance, promptly slamming into the wall with enough force to run through drywall. She crumpled to the floor in a heap of broken bones and fading consciousness as blood trickled down her arm, forming a small crimson puddle on the floor.

Firah turned the corner moments later, but her appearance had changed significantly. She was at least as old as Mana, if not slightly older. Long legs made quick work of the distance between them, a pair of red crystal-like heels ominously clicking with every stride—almost like a ticking clock. She wore a casual silver gown as an elegant, woolly cardigan covered her arms, but knife-like fingernails protruded from the end of the sleeve’s cuff.

Mana struggled to pull herself into something more than a broken heap. Her lips were stained red with blood and her breathing was staggered. She was beyond the realm of her own healing magic, only suitable for small cuts, bruises, and minor burns, leaving her to suffer whatever fury, whatever wrath, Firah had planned. Daggers filled her stare as the two locked eyes. She felt used, cheated—lied to.

“Did you not wonder why you stopped at the halfway point between Earth and Chiipha, Mana? I thought you were smarter than that,” Firah said, mockingly endearing. An orb of dark energy occupied the center of her palm. “You know, I actually did want cookies, but that’s not my issue with you. That damned goddess— That Omnis, or whatever that hunk of light is, is our one-way ticket to a remade world—one made in the glory of our king, Ahzef—the Crown!”

Mana’s eyes widened. “Ahzef is still out there somewhere after all, but the only way for her to know that would be—” The realization felt like a slap in the face. The hidden aura, the fleeting sense of malice she’d felt earlier… “You’re a devil… Great… Why can’t you damned things just leave all of this alone?!” The palms of her hands caught the brunt of an expulsion of blood from her mouth. Despite the myriads of broken bones she knew she had, she forced her way to her feet, prepared to fight. “I’m. So. SICK OF YOU!” she screamed before collapsing back onto the floor in tears and agony.

“Aww. Now don’t be like that, Mana. Since you’re going to be here a while, I might as well introduce myself officially,” the devil sneered. “It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Mana Lhumin. I am Kuria, the Reverse World’s fourth seat. Now, tell me more about your meetings with Omnis.”

“Just because I’m a little beat up doesn’t mean you get to boss me around,” Mana croaked through sobs. It was a facade, but it was only meant to buy time, time to figure out what the hell she was she going to do next. “I— I don’t want to fight you here.”

Kuria folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not so stupid as to believe the front you’re trying to put on, girl,” she snarled. Elegant waves of black hair fell into her face before she pushed them back.

A series of dark ribbons appeared before the devil—dreadful cold seemed to emanate from their twirling fabric, entwining themselves in a hellish dance. Before Mana could react, her arms were bound by one of the various ribbons. Another drifted forward, visibly taunting her as it danced in front of her face.

“Mark my words, Kuria. As soon as I’m back in Chiipha, I will hun—”

The taunting ribbon wrapped itself around her mouth, tying itself into a black bow at the back of her neck. She felt her life-energy being siphoned away, little by little. Much of her remaining strength was siphoned from her body, leaving just enough to keep her conscious as Kuria continued.

“Like I said, you’re going to be my little prisoner for a while, but I’m not so mean as to let you suffer from those injuries you foolishly inflicted on yourself.” Kuria pointed at Mana as a black flash briefly imaged her body. “There. Just like a corrupt file, you restore it from its previous data in order to repair it.” Another dark ribbon peeled Mana off the floor as several more bound her legs together. “All nice and healed up.”

Her heart was ready to beat out of her chest. The terror and helplessness she felt frightened her. She knew she was in serious trouble, and it was unlikely Brendan or Lyra had any semblance of what had happened to her or where she’d ended up.

“Is this how Lacia felt when she fought Lucifero with Aria?” The reality sank in that her situation was much different. No one would be coming to save her, unlike Aria with Lacia.

“Like it or not, you’re a very important part of the new world we’re trying to create. Did you think Lacia was the only one we were after?”

Mana grew limp at Kuria’s words, defeated. The hand she had so meticulously crafted since her departure from Azalea was now laid out on the table for all to see. She was tonight’s big loser, and she would be made to remember how helpless she felt—how easily she had been bested.

“Are you serious?! My, how humanity has truly overestimated itself. Oh well. It’s just me and you now,” Kuria whispered in her ear. “Hope you won’t mind me digging around in your head a little.”