Mistress Cromwell woke me up in the middle of the night by sending me a telepathic message.

I think she has done that twice before, to train me in case anybody ever attacked for some reason and I had to escape.

The message was:

“Run”

And I immediately knew that this was the night.

My orb didn’t so much as stir. If that Magnus-, no, if Mana was awake, he was completely unaware of what was happening.

The second I jumped out of bed, I could already smell it.

Charred, burning flesh, reminding me of that time the Mistress tried to teach me how to convert mana into magical fire and she set a Will ‘o wisp ablaze. Wood, too. In fact, the several smokes all blended into one, creating a raw mixture of all the things I’ve ever known and loved going up in smoke.

I took one look around my room.

Some things were out of place, but I didn’t know what.

I will need a weapon in case I get attacked.

Something banged on the door and I jolted, quickly grabbing the one knife I saw closest to me.

I didn’t even notice how the gem was not black or uncoloured, but instead a sky-blue.

I wanted to shout, to tell them not to come in, and that I was ready to kill.

But if I did, they would be alerted of my position.

If they have come this far, they must have gotten past the Mistress…

N-, no time to think about that!

I need to grab as many things as I can!

A wand, a little mechanical bird, a scalpel, and-,

The banging grew louder.

What more will I need?...

My eyes fall upon a little stuffed, black cat, with empty gems for eyes.

The Mistress had made that herself for my tenth birthday so that I could fill the eyes with my own mana once it awakened.

But I can’t carry more than what is absolutely needed…

I glance thoughtfully between the hundreds of various items. Some too large to carry, some to large to wield, others useless, and some…

The banging grew too loud.

I could hear a commotion downstairs, people shouting and screaming and weapons flying and making a racket.

Whoever was pounding on my door were in no mood to give up.

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They knew I was here.

...I grabbed the cat.

His name is Sven.

The Mistress had told me he would protect me if I ever got the nightmares again.

All I had to do was pet him and call him by his nickname, “Fjutten”.

I had never been able to pronounce it well, but…

Grabbing his soft body in my left arm, I pointed the knife at the door and ran towards it.

If I can burst the door open, I may be able to escape before he comes after me.

But the door gave way first.

I stopped dead in my tracks and stared blankly at the rough-looking man who peeked inside.

His eyes fell on me.

His blank face immediately turned into one of boundless, savage glee.

“I found him!”

He shouted, but as he turned his face away, I rushed at him, with knife in hand.

The knife had stabbed deep into his heart even before he had noticed me.

At first, his face was lit up in astonishment.

But it quickly turned to despair.

The mouth, earlier crooked into a grin I will never forget, gaped open a couple times like a fish out of water, but nothing came out.

He was so, so silent.

His eyes kept jumping erratically between me and his wound in complete and utter despair and agony.

At last, he gave one gut-wrenching cough, splattering my face with whatever his lungs were filling up with(blood?) and he slumped over.

I had to leave him.

But even as I shoved his body aside to run downstairs, even as he fell over like the meat-puppet he had become, his agonized eyes still followed me.

They followed me down the stairs, through the kitchen where the Mistress had taught me how to make pancakes and jam and roast beef and outside the door and beside the little smithy where she had showed me how to smith knives and to magically infuse them with shards of magic gems and into the meadow where she had lulled me to sleep as a child when the nightmares wouldn’t stop and into the forest where we had hunted and I never once looked back at the house where I had grown un burning in a purple fire and even as I ran into the last place I would ever see my Mistress his eyes followed me to hell and back.

In the little cove.

The one she had shown me when I was 7 and wanted to know where gems came from, and it had been so beautiful and I had been so happy and she had been so proud, there she was.

The gems adorned the floor and the ceiling and the walls and it was just as pretty as it had been so long ago.

They were all glittering, eagerly feeding on her life, seeping out in big red splashes.

She must have teleported here.

The house was filled with people but I had noticed none of them.

She looked at me with pleading eyes, and I obeyed and came closer.

Her old, trembling hands were so soft, as they had always been.

I held her close, and I cried.

She simply smiled, and I knew what she meant to say.

I had to go back.

I shook my head.

I could never return.

Her thoughts were mine, and I knew.

In the drawer, all the way up in her work-room, in the lowest drawer.

No.

I can’t.

Please.

I know I have to.

The Mistress always gets her way.

...yes, Mistress, I do remember.

I do remember that time you won Tricker and I had to call you Mistress.

...It was funny, I agree.

But I couldn’t laugh.

I wanted to cry, but she simply smiled.

You mean you forfeit?

I can call you it for this l-, last time?

A-, alright, grandma.

I’ll miss you.

She smiled, and a single tear rolled down her peaceful face, and it was over.

I wailed, and in my sorrow, I felt as if all the gems in the cove cried along, pitying me so dearly.

...I had to go back.

My legs felt so heavy and yet so weak.

I could barely stand.

But I had to.

I knew, in that burning memento of my life, my future lay.

With heavy steps and a clump of darkness growing in my stomach and an emptiness growing in my chest, I returned.

It was still burning, and it was still surrounded by people I had never seen in my life.

Some were speaking with each other in hushed voices, others were laughing loudly, patting each other on the back, and one man, with purple eyes, shouted at another.

I had to get in there?...

I-, I can’t…

But I must.

In the cool darkness of the night, illuminated only by the restless moon and the fiery purple blaze, I returned to what was once my whole life.

I didn’t know why the flames didn’t affect me, nor did I care to find out.

I tried my hardest to keep my emotions under control, climbing the steps without giving the pyre around me too much thought, and yet I could still feel the sadness welling up within me, bursting out of my eyes and down to the burning floor.

Everything was purple.

Everything was warm.

And yet, I was cool.

All the way up, in her working room, in the lowest drawer on the right side…

I found a paper, a pair of magically enhanced glasses, and a pouch of empty gems.

I didn’t even bother reading the paper.

The floor collapsed under me and I fell into the darkness and down down down into the ruins of my life, and I fell and it hurt so so so much but I still ran and ran and ran back into the forest, clutching all I had left of what I once was and once I had ran for so long that I knew nobody could have followed me, I collapsed in the darkness and dragged myself into the safe darkness of a bush, and clutching the stuffed cat,

I wept.