They say that after death you either go to heaven, hell, or purgatory. However, none of those choices were presented to Nova as soon as she came to consciousness. Instead, she was greeted by a motley group of cosplayers.

'Am I not dead? I'm pretty sure I was impaled to death.' She thought. Her eyes went down to her chest, and while she doesn't remember wearing a medieval white dress, it is stained by blood. It's strange how she feels no pain, but she surmises that it must be the adrenaline still pumping through her veins. Which still doesn't make sense. How can she still feel her heart beating when her chest got stabbed by a construction pole?

"Thank you for your kindness, and I'm really sorry for the inconvenience." This is embarrassing. She couldn't meet his gaze and just kept staring at her bloody chest. Here she is, lying on a stranger's arm who was enthusiastic about her being awake, yet all she could do was bleed out in his arms and still long for this to be all over.

The man spoke. His voice was a silvery delight, and the words he spoke were pleasantly similar to English, but it’s not English. A foreigner. Instead, she gently pushed him to create some space between them. She clapped her hands together and did a little bow, expressing her words with a universal gesture, or at least she believes so. “Thank. You. I. Am. Sorry.”

“Hey Finn, can you understand her?” Primeveire nudged her brother with her elbow. The woman spoke the same language they heard when they were in a trance by her song, but they still were largely clueless of what her words meant. “She looks like she’s paying respects. Which is odd for a vampire to do.”

Finvarra sighed and brought his hand to his face, massaging his temples. He couldn’t even answer from the sheer incredulity he feels from their current circumstance.

Edmund turned his head to his peers and answered Primeveire’s question instead. “I think she’s trying to plead with us to not kill her? Either way, I’m going to cast Understanding.”

Nova peeked up from her hands and saw the stranger pull out a gnarly branch, a wand she guessed. He spoke of strange words and a dark blue light emanated from the tip of his wand until it formed into a glittery globule that dispersed into tiny flickering sparks that fell onto her and onto him. The glow lingered for a second before disappearing. Her eyes widened in surprise, and finally had the sense to look at her surroundings. She was nowhere near a building at all. Instead, she was in a fancy white room she has only seen in historical period films. Only now did a sense of panic surged over her. A group of strangers in cosplay have brought her into this unknown place and replaced her clothes. They were most definitely defiling a corpse, but she was no corpse. Nothing makes sense, but the only thing she could do was ask and hope for them to be kind enough to let her go.

“Uhm, excuse me, there must be some sort of mistake. Is there no ambulance coming? Are you not taking me to the hospital?” She was uncertain but tried to remain as calm as she could. The situation was too surreal for her to process right now.

Edmund raised both his hands slightly, a gesture of surrender, or in this case, trying to calm her down. Some words she spoke were bleeped out, the spell taking time to understand her. “We mean no harm, vampire lady.”

“What?” She didn’t know if her ears were tricking her, but while the man still spoke his own language, she could somehow make out his words. Although it’s very broken to the point of misunderstanding. Her eyes fell to his companions, one who seemed distressed and the other caught her gaze then glared at her.

She looked back to the man that helped her up, now a bit disconcerted by the deep blue eyes focused on her. Nova felt like she was gazing at the deep, unfathomable waters of the ocean. Even though the pink-haired man was smiling kindly, his probing eyes told a different story. A chill ran down her spine.

"Can you understand me now?" He asked, his chin resting on his palm, never breaking eye contact with her.

"I-- Yes." Her voice was brittle, almost whispering. She felt her heart thumping loudly against her ribcage, her gut warning her of danger. Panicking now won't get her anywhere, and she forced herself to stay calm. If anything happens, she is ready to accept death.

"Do you know who you are?" Edmund questioned, his words slow and steady.

"Yes. I still have my memories." She managed to answer. It was a strange question, she thought. Her head didn't suffer blunt force trauma to cause amnesia, but she supposes that what she went through would be traumatic enough for her brain to shut down and shove the experience in the deepest recesses of her subconscious.

At this point, the spell was syncing their languages and the trio could finally make sense of her words a bit. Finvarra and Primeveire decided to leave the questioning to Edmund since he was very… persuasive when need be.

"That's good. That's good." He smiled. "I am Edmund. I have questions, and I would like it if you answered them honestly. If not, see those two behind me?"

She nodded, not daring to squeak a word. His friends behind were equally threatening, their eyes a fog that stared back when they noticed her gaze. The two of them looked positively similar to each other, and she could see pointy ears peeking out their hair. Elf twins? They were both striking beauties, the kind she has only seen on billboards and magazines. However, the woman showed open contempt for her. She has no idea of what kind of act she did to warrant aggression from such a fierce-looking person, but it scared her. Direct confrontation was never her strong suit. The man on the other hand just stared at her. A few fringes escaped from his ponytail, covering his right eye a little. She couldn't quite read his expression nor his intentions, but he was just as intimidating as the woman beside her.

"That's Finvarra and Primeveire. Both strong warriors who could cut fleshy beings like us easily into halves. If you lie, they'd know, and they could easily squeeze the truth out of you, and we wouldn't want that, do we?"

Nova shook her head. 'Shit. These guys are scary as fuck. I would welcome death, but I certainly do not want to get tortured.'

"Excellent!" He clapped his hands together then sat comfortably on the floor. Nova was as stiff as stone, her body quivering slightly. Edmund waved his wand and cast another spell, this time it was a faint yellow light that disappeared as soon as it descended upon her forehead. "Just to make things extra sure."

He shrugged, then continued his interrogation. "What is your name?"

A strange feeling compelled her to answer. Nova had no intentions in the first place to lie, but now she is left with no choice but to tell only the truth. "My name is Nova Estelle Clarke."

"Do you know this place?"

Nova looked around. "No. Seriously, I'm confused. I don't know where I am."

"Is the name 'The Children of the Scarlet Sun' familiar to you?"

She shook her head. "Is that a film? I've never watched it. I thought you guys were cosplayers until you did that weird magic thing."

Edmund looked at her, contemplating. It isn't out of place if the cult dragged an innocent woman and sacrificed her. But surely they wouldn't waste their time and resources in creating a whole tower just to protect a random woman's corpse for resurrection.

"Then, do you know why you are here?"

"No. Not at all. To be honest, I was supposed to be dangling on a metal rod, you know? The ambulance is supposed to take my body into the morgue and tell my parents I am dead, then they're given my sketchbook and god knows if they'll care for once. I jumped and I died. And now I'm here surrounded by… You people."

Some words were unclear, but they understood the whole message. It looked like they had no choice but to believe she is an innocent whose corpse was stolen by the cult. For what purpose, it escapes their mind.

“I-- Why am I here?” They kept asking her questions, and she thought it'd be fair if she asks back.

“We do not know. You were but a dead body mere moments ago."

The words he spoke somehow rang clear to her. Sure she knew she died, but hearing it from someone else confirmed it. She looked down to her bloodied chest and checked it. Although the dress was torn, there was no wound at all. Just a healed scar. All she could think of is 'How?'.

"Is this… Is this heaven then?" She's pretty sure it isn't, but she had to ask. Although the definition of heaven in this new world is different from her world. Heaven here is the skies above, the abode of the gods, but it is not where the souls of the departed go.

"Heaven?" At that, Edmund's brow quirked in interest. "No. You still walk among mortals."

Nova was lost. The overall situation had been weird. If it weren't for the magical display earlier, she would've refused their words and called them delusional. She wanted to, but they were too scary and things felt too real to deny. She could still recall and feel the pain of the metal rod impaling her. Her body twitched violently before she quickly lost consciousness. It was beyond unpleasant and too vivid a memory to dismiss as a mere dream.

Primeveire sneered. "A vampire aspiring to rise to the heavens and be among the gods? Truly nothing less of the audacity I expect from you ever-scheming fucks."

"Prim." Finvarra shot a glare of disapproval on Primeveires's way.

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"What?" She shot back a glare. She knew her brother agreed with her words, it's just that he always had the habit of keeping his thoughts quiet. "Not like you disagree with me."

Finvarra stepped in, showing the brand that was tattooed onto him moments ago. "Do you know what this is? Can you remove it?"

Nova was startled by Finvarra, his voice deep and quite husky. A voice she expected, and suited his elegant bearing. If it weren't for the overall bizarre ordeal she is in, she would've unleashed her inner fan-girl and drool over all these beautiful beings that surround her. She pried her gaze away from his face and into his chest, inspecting the tattoo that seemed freshly marked judging from the still angry red flesh surrounding it. "No, I'm sorry. I've never been a tattoo person. Don't get me wrong though, I think tattoos are cool!"

At that, Finvarra sighed and grabbed his dagger. She flinched at the sight of the sharp blade, quickly closing her eyes, and waited for the pain, but no pain came. She opened one eye and saw him offer his bloodied palm instead.

"Drink."

"What the fuck Finn! She's a vampire! We can't even kill her if she gets too far!" Primeveire scowled and tried to pull her brother away from Nova, but he remained.

"I want to confirm something." Finvarra said, just pushing his hand towards Nova. "Look at the blood. Don't you feel thirst for it?"

Nova stared at him like he just grew a second head. She cringed at the sight of the blood. Now, she wasn't the type to be queasy at the sight of blood, but you were bound to question someone's sanity if they suddenly cut their palm and asked you to drink their blood.

"I'm not a vampire. Just because I died and lived again doesn't mean I'm one!"

Primeveire scrutinized her, checking if she was resisting the spell and lying. But it seems like she was telling the truth.

"Huh. So she isn't a vampire." Primeveire finally loosened her guard and sighed in relief. The whole situation was sticky as it is, having to report to the guild about their findings of a vampire that her brother is accidentally contracted to would be tantamount to treachery. Obviously, she disliked the thought of her brother being a slave to the once-dead woman, but at least she is no vampire. "Now what? What do we do with her?"

The other two relaxed at the revelation. Finvarra pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the blood away. Edmund inspected Finvarra's wound, then shrugged. "I'm not wasting my magic reserve to heal a shallow wound. You'll be fine."

'This can't be hell either, right?' Nova thought. While she may have lived a rather mundane life, she tried her best to be upright. Unless her suicide was a grave enough sin to be condemned for eternity? Pah. Religion and their imposing morals be fucked. She is pretty sure that the three of them are crazy, but they don't seem like demons.

"Uhm, excuse me," she chimed in, "May… May I ask where I am?"

"Hm." The pink-haired man paused in thought, placing his chin to rest upon his fingers. "South of Windershire."

Nova had no idea where Windershire is at all. "Windershire?"

"Ah. A small town really, just near the Whispering Lake. A day trip from Montblanc City. Montblanc is the capital city of the northern state of Everdale. Everdale is a three-hundred-year-old kingdom that was once a territory of the fallen Arcanis Empire." Edmund patiently answered, his eyes still studying her.

All places mentioned are unfamiliar to Nova, and she was pretty sure that even in history, there was no such country named Everdale. On Earth at least. Arcanis seemed familiar, but she has read and played too many of the fantasy genre to pinpoint the familiarity.

"Then, am I not on Earth?"

Edmund tilted his head in question. "Are we not all treading on earth?"

Nova sighed. "I mean, what planet is this?"

At that question, Edmund's eyes twinkled. He always had a fascination toward the heavenly bodies he gazed upon his large telescope. If it weren't for his heavier inclination to study the principles and laws of spells, he would've taken astrology. "This is Tierra. I believe we are the sixth planet from the sun."

'Tierra. Terra… What a horrible naming sense for a planet. Then again, we named our planet Earth, which literally translates to dirt. Not a particularly impressive name when the rest of the planets in our solar system are named after the roman pantheon.' Nova chuckled. Her frayed nerves were slightly relaxing. At the moment, it seemed like she had to accept the peculiar nature of her circumstances. Besides, she could see that the three aren't as guarded and menacing as they were when they thought she was a vampire.

"Hey." Primeveire snapped her finger, all attention to her. "You two still haven't answered my question. What do we do with her?"

"As usual? Bullshit our way through the report?" Edmund shrugged. It wasn't the first time that they fabricated some truths to their missions.

"We'll report about the magic circles. This tower would be very useful to the academy." Finvarra looked around. He could still feel the tendrils of magic in the circle, but nothing as great as it was earlier. "Let's continue our search. There might still be something here. As for Nova, you stay put for now. Don't even dare try to escape."

The tip of his sword barely touched Nova's throat. He could try to push it further but knew that the curse won't allow him to hurt even the tip of her nails. Even pointing it against her caused him pain, but he needs to warn her lest she gets ideas and escapes.

Nova nodded. She knows nothing of this world. She doesn't want to find out the consequences of a rash escape, especially not with the prospect of three powerful people trailing her and she has zero clues where to escape to in the first place.

"I'll guard her." Primeveire's eyes narrowed into slits as she regarded Nova with suspicion. So far, the woman didn't seem dangerous and truly seemed innocent, but she knew more than anyone else that an angelic face could hide a malicious snake.

They began their work, with Edmund pulling out his book and studying the magic circle while Finvarra began investigating the room. Primeveire sat down on a nearby chaise lounge, sighing as she was finally able to rest a little after the long climb.

"Well? Are you just going to sit there?" Primeveire arched her brow, then pointed to the sofa opposite to her. Nova immediately stood up and scuttled her way to the sofa, sitting on the soft, plush, expensive material. It was uncomfortable. Especially when the Primeveire was staring at her rather intensely.

Primeveire scooted to the far end of the lounge and leaned close to Nova's face. Nova's breath hitched, not expecting the sudden nearness. Especially not the long fingers that danced through her hair, tucking the loose strands behind her ear.

"Normal ears. Will you smile for me?" Nova's eyes were starting to hurt from all the surprise she had gotten. There's only so much widening of eyes before it starts to tire. Nevertheless, to hear Primeveire's sultry voice speaking softly to her instead of mocking her was quite the shock. Her cheeks felt warm, and although hesitant, she smiled.

"A beautiful smile, but it'd be much more if the smile was brighter. Show your teeth." Nova obeyed, showing her the brightest smile she could think of.

Primeveire's lip curled upward into a smirk. Then the smirk turned into a giggling fit. "What a cute one. Look at how stupidly you followed."

Nova's smile dropped into a pout. Indignant. "I told you already that I'm not a vampire. I already admitted earlier, under a truth spell too I assume."

"Ah. Perceptive. Not quite the nitwit as I thought you'd be." Primeveire shrugged, then leaned back to the lounge. "I still dislike you, but I suppose you're tolerable company."

"I--" Nova wanted to protest, but dropped it. Arguing was never a strong suit of hers. Instead, she raked her eyes around and noticed the drawer beside her. She opened one of the dressers and found a beautifully adorned handheld mirror. She picked it up, and the mirror showed a long, white-haired woman whose beauty momentarily stole her breath. She looked perfect, straight out of a fantasy book. A dainty yet charming appearance that was often described as the protagonist's face.

"I didn't peg you to be the vain sort." Primeveire remarked.

"No, there's a woman in the mirror. Look." She ushered Primeveire to come forward, which she did begrudgingly.

"Where?" Primeveire's reflection joined the woman in the mirror, and Nova pointed to the one beside Primeveire. "You jest. That's you."

"That… That can't be. Nuh-uh. I've always had black hair and brown eyes. The most typical colors there are. And while yes, some people called me pretty, I am not this," she gestured to the reflection, "this gorgeous."

Primeveire looked at Nova like she was missing a brain, then rolled her eyes and sat back. "A few missing memories after coming back to life isn't unusual."

"No, I swear! This isn't me!" Nova did random moves and a couple of weird faces, and the reflection copied her. Soon she was transfixed by how different the reflection was and slowly came to accept the possibility that the reflection in the mirror is hers. She placed the mirror down and grabbed a few locks of her hair. It was white. She patted down her body and just now noticed how alien it felt. Especially in the chest area. She always had a… Generous chest, but it seemed like it shrunk into one cup or more. "How in the ever-loving fuck?"

Nova planted her face on her hands in disbelief. As if the whole situation was not outlandish enough, she was in a completely different body. Her eyes widened in realization. "Oh my god. I have been isekai-d."

"Have been what now?" Primeveire asked, the last word not translating properly.

"I have been isekai-d! You know, transported in another world. How even? I wasn't hit by a truck!"

Nova closed her eyes and slumped at the couch, slowly recounting the memories of her life and trying to find a rational answer to this illogical question. Primeveire looked at her, puzzled, but then shrugged and decided that polishing her sword would be more interesting.

Finvarra searched through the room and found things well kept by a preservation spell. There was nothing out of place, and everything seemed to cater to a young woman's needs. From the clothes on the cabinet to an icebox with well-preserved food. One can only imagine how long ago this food was made, and if it would still remain palatable. On the bed was a note, written in ancient katha language, something for Edmund to decipher later. There was also a black case placed on the bed, and inside was a piano. Small and compact, brimming with magic. He also found a florid, gilded box filled with valuable jewelry and old currency in the dresser.

Near the illusory balcony was a large painting that reached the floor. It was a painting of Nova, wearing a simpler white gown, smiling demurely at a fluffy thing that laid down on her lap. The woman claimed innocence and the spell rendered her unable to lie, but the painting right here was proof that she wasn't what she seemed. He moved the painting to the side, as large paintings were usually an obvious indication that there was something hidden behind, and he was right. He found a portal. Where it leads, he had no idea.

"Edmund. Over here." The wizard groaned in annoyance as he was distracted from his fixation with the magic circle. He stood up and walked over to Finvarra, and found both the painting and the portal.

"Huh. This eliminates the possibility that she was just an abducted corpse for experimentation." Edmund examined the painting. "Also a beautifully painted work of art."

"Can you shrink it down and bring it with us?"

"Sure." The painting shrank, small enough to fit into Edmund's spatial bag.

"Can you also find out where it leads to?"

Edmund scanned the glyphs that surrounded the portal, then shrugged. "Easy enough work."

With a flourish of his wand, the glyphs moved and connected, and soon he was able to see the coordinates to where the portal leads to. "So this is why we weren't able to fly and teleport inside the tower. This is the only real entrance and exit. I suppose the tower had other means of scaring intruders, like that unknown teleportation circle on the first floor. But other than this room, all spells in the tower were deteriorating. We were lucky."

Finvarra nodded. The reason why the tower was so uncaring of their exploration was because of its faulty security. The only enforced and properly secured part of the tower was this room.

"The magic circle in the room was slowly losing its strength, but it was our good fortune that we activated the spell, eh?" Edmund nudged the man beside him, a mocking smirk on his face.

Finvarra ignored him and asked, "I still don't understand where the music came from."

"Me neither. It gave me the creeps. Though if I had to guess, probably from the circle too? Spellsongs have always been a force of their own."

"Yes." The music and the woman's voice still haunted him. Finvarra turned to look at Nova, who was still and quiet in her seat. His new master. "The portal. Do you think it will lead us to a safe exit? I do not wish for myself to hear you and Primeveire whining for hours straight."

Edmund chuckled and patted his back. "Don't worry! I can even set the coordinates of the portal back to the guild."

"No. We do not even know what to do with the woman yet."

"Bring her with us? An extra hand in our party would be useful."

"We have no clue what she is capable of. She will only get in our way."

"It seems unwise to just drop her back to the city." Edmund noticed Finvarra's eyes on Nova, and decided to follow his gaze. "Like a newborn who has no clue of her surroundings. She'll be easily manipulated and worse, used against you. 'Sides, I'm rather curious about her ties with such an old cult. And of course, you know, the resurrection."

Finvarra was quiet for a while, then spoke "I don't know Edmund. The whole reason I left the Order was to not be roped down by needless responsibility. I trust that you and Primeveire can hold your own, but her? I do not think so." He rubbed his temple, sighing. "Still, there is truth to your words. She will come for now. Once we find a safe place for her to be and she has sufficient knowledge to navigate the world on her own, she leaves."

"Alright. Reasonable. Now! Spare me a few more hours to study the circle please?" Edmund clasped his fingers together in a begging manner, his eyes wide and puppy-like. Finvarra's face scrunched in disgust and stepped back away from him.

"One hour. Then we will go. Staying here any longer is unnecessary."

"Ugh. Fine." Edmund grumbled, then went back to the circle, studying it now with more zeal.

Finvarra looked at the case of the piano, and on to Nova. Everything in here seemed to be her property. He will take the gold and jewelry for themselves, but the rest will remain hers.