> "Ten years is a lifetime." - Baal Berith
Nord lowered herself onto the soft mattress, feeling its welcoming embrace as she reclined. The room was filled with a soft morning glow. Beside her, Kirara lay curled up, her feline eyes closed in contentment. Even in her new, humanoid form, her purrs were still as soothing and melodic as ever. Her hair, which cascaded down like a waterfall of silk, retained the same velvety texture as her old fur. She was the epitome of peacefulness as she napped in the same curled position she always had.
Reaching toward her closet, Nord slid open a hidden compartment, carefully extracting a device that had seen better days. She winced when she powered it on and saw that it had only 10% battery life left. After this, recharging was inevitable. She navigated through the files and clicked on the one labelled "video 04.mov."
As the screen flickered to life, she found herself looking into a much darker setting. The Nord in the video paced to and fro in an agitated manner, a behaviour she immediately recognized as her own stress-induced pacing. Eventually, the other Nord took a seat in front of the screen, her face a cocktail of emotions.
"This is video 04. I'm Nord Morningstar, and will be leaving Earth for Nyu soon. Very soon." Her eyes shifted off-camera, and she paused, gathering her thoughts. "He's asleep right now. And snoring. We spent most of the evening crying. This is agonizing for me, but it will be a thousand times worse for him. He'll remember everything. Every single moment. And he told me he wouldn't change a thing."
The words hung in the air as Nord watched herself on the screen. Her past self's eyes looked clouded with internal debate before she continued, "The thought of him roaming Nyu alone is too much to bear. He's always needed company more than I have. He hates to be alone. He is really fun to have around." she chuckled, "Nobody gets bored around him. But I have to stick to the plan. Once I gather enough funds, I'll have to leave Ravendrift. Staying would make me an easy target. And I need to remember all of this!"
Past Nord glanced away again, this time her expression settling into determination. "I have to keep training—running, fighting, even learning how to ride a horse seems like a good skill to pick up. But above all, I must stick to the plan. If all goes well, I won't have to leave him alone. I can't see myself doing this without him. I need him."
The video ended, and Nord found herself staring at a blank screen. Her eyes moved from the device to Kirara, who was still blissfully asleep beside her. For a moment, the weight of her past words settled on her like a shroud, and she wondered how many choices, how many turns had led her to this exact moment.
What did she give up? And was she talking about Baal? It couldn't be. Otherwise, he would have told her.
She switched to the next video, 05.mov, and once more, she heard, "This is video 05. I'm Nord Morningstar, and will be leaving Earth for Nyu soon. Very soon."
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Seated in a high school classroom that reeked of chalk dust and adolescent ennui, Nord found her eyes drifting from the equations on the blackboard to the window overlooking the school's front gates. Math had always been her least favourite subject, a constant thorn in her side. What use was the Pythagorean theorem when all she wanted was to capture and mix colours on canvas?
Numbers and letters strung together in equations seemed as irrelevant to her future as a paintbrush would be to solving algebraic problems.
Outside, beyond the boundaries of equations and polynomial functions, she saw him—pacing back and forth, his steps a frenetic dance of pure impatience. He wore jeans, a black T-shirt, and a matching black cardigan. His sunglasses, dark as midnight, were perched on his nose, hiding the unnerving demonic glint of his eyes.
Despite the overall coordination of his outfit, his hair was still a bursting mess of vivid red, sticking out in chaotic tufts.
Something was off today. He was usually so composed, so unflappable. The restless pacing was a deviation, a crack in the facade, and intrigued her. But more than that, she liked watching him—liked the way he carried himself, liked the mysterious aura that enveloped him even as he wore the most mundane of outfits.
A voice snapped her back to reality. "Nord, would you care to solve this equation?"
Her gaze tore away from the window, the chalky numbers on the board now demanding her attention. With a mental sigh, she rose from her seat to approach the board, chalk in hand.
Nord chalked up the equation as quickly as she could, her mind half on the task and half outside with the red-haired enigma pacing near the school gates. As soon as the bell rang, she hurriedly shoved her books into her backpack and dashed out of the classroom, eager to escape the tedium of math.
"Baal!"
Emerging into the open air, she found him right where she'd last seen him, standing by the gates as if tethered by an invisible force.
"Waiting for me?" Nord adjusted the straps of her backpack as she approached.
"Who else would I be waiting for?" He tried to sound annoyed, but the edges of his lips twitched upwards in a smile, giving him away.
"You seem more weird than usual. What's going on?" Nord asked, sensing his unusual demeanour.
"I found a place—a café. They serve crepes with Nutella!" His voice tinged with an excitement that seemed uncharacteristically juvenile for a sixteen-year-old demon.
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"How was it? Any good?" she asked, starting to walk in the direction of home.
"I don't know. I was waiting for you," Baal admitted.
"All this time? Why didn't you just go alone?"
"I don't like being alone," he said, the words simple but laden with a depth that hinted at more than just a distaste for solitude.
She considered this, then ventured, "Maybe you should make some friends. You're a likeable guy; you'd have no trouble."
His answer was immediate, almost reflexive. "I don't want to make friends. I want to go eat crepes with you."
The sincerity in his voice stopped her in her tracks, and for a moment, all thoughts of math equations, upcoming art projects, and daily life faded away. Here was a puzzle that numbers couldn't solve, an equation that defied all logic, yet somehow, it was the one that made the most sense to her.
"Alright," she smiled, "let's go eat some crepes, then. You pay."
The table between them was a delicious battlefield, stained with sugar powder and smeared with remnants of Nutella. Yet amidst this culinary aftermath, Nord's notebook lay open, its pages filled with hastily sketched maps, arrows, and annotations.
"So here is Ravendrift. From what I've gathered, your family owns a sizable manor there and runs some sort of business," he said, tracing a line on the map with his finger. "My idea is that you go there, take over the business, and—"
"Hold on," Nord interrupted, her eyebrows furrowing. "I don't know anything about running a business. And I don't want to divert from my plan of becoming an artist. Besides, the whole point of this is for me to have happy memories, right?"
He looked up, meeting her eyes. "Of course. I'm working on some spells that will make this easier for you. I can conjure something that will naturally draw trade, money, and—most importantly—respect your way."
"Respect?" She looked puzzled.
"To prevent people from ripping you off," he explained.
"But how will I remember any of this if you're planning to take my memories?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
Baal paused, setting his fork down and meeting her gaze squarely. "You're only losing the happy memories. Do you think this—our crepe adventure, reviewing this map—will count as a happy memory for you?"
Her eyes widened. "Are you asking if I'm happy now?"
"Yeah. This is important. You can't forget."
Blushing, she looked away. "The crepe wasn't that great," she muttered, avoiding his eyes, "Of course, I'm not happy!"
"Would be silly if you were," he chuckled, a weight seemingly lifted from his shoulders. "Good. It'd be a real issue if I made you happy."
"Let's get back to the plan," she said, eager to move the conversation along.
"Do you know when your sister's initiation will be?" he asked.
"She turns 18 in ten years. That gives us a decade to figure out how to destroy... whatever we're fighting against."
He nodded, his eyes taking on a serious gleam. "Ten years is a long time."
She sighed, staring at the smeared remnants of Nutella on her plate. "Yeah, ten years is a fucking lifetime."
A flicker of tension hung in the air as she shifted in her seat, her eyes meeting his. "So you're saying that I'll forget this entire conversation?"
"Yes and no. My presence, our banter, sure, those will be like fog by morning. But the information should stick. Think of it as learning how to ride a bike. The body remembers even if the mind forgets," Baal replied, a glint of pride lighting his eyes.
"And what about the map? How am I supposed to remember it if my teacher is Mr. Forgettable?"
His lips curled into a half-smile. "Ah, well, you're going to take the map home, pore over it like it's the only thing keeping you sane. No meddling from me. It will be all you."
"That’s a convenient loophole," she snorted, snatching a piece of his crepe with her fork. "Never met a guy so full of himself."
"You'll forget you ever said that. So, I can afford to be shameless," Baal retorted, picking up a pencil to draw a triangle encompassed by three circles on a scrap of paper.
She peered at the paper. "What's all that?"
"This," he said, eyes narrowing in focus as he sketched, "is how magic works in my world. At the top, you have Atua. People in my world often see Atua as a supreme deity, something beyond mortal comprehension. There are cults dedicated to it, which you'd do well to avoid." He glanced up at her as if ensuring she was taking it all seriously.
"And these other parts?" She leaned closer to look at his drawing.
"These are Atua Ma and Atua Na. Chaos and Order, respectively. But here's the thing: there's no good or bad here. It's all in the execution." His eyes met hers, a silent challenge. "Atua Ma is driven by emotional instinct. It's chaotic magic, difficult to control. Atua Na is the polar opposite; calculated, intentional."
"I see," she said, locking eyes with him for a moment longer than necessary. "Shouldn't I be looking at your beautiful artwork here?"
"You should," he nodded, "but you're not."
"I am!"
"No, you're looking at me," he said, a playful grin widening on his face.
"Oh, for heaven's sake, your ego must be so obese it needs its own zip code. Get back to Atua, will you? I'm listening."
He chuckled, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ah, you won't remember saying that either, but I will. And I'll savour it every time you do."
His eyes sparkled with mischief, almost daring her to steal another bite of his crepe. "Fine, fine," he said, redirecting his focus back to the paper. "So, think of these three forces as a sort of trifecta: Atua is the potential energy, while Atua Ma and Atua Na are the kinetic forces that set everything in motion. They're not separate but elements of a cohesive whole."
She stared at the doodles on the paper, trying to visualize the forces he was describing. "So, what's the 'hollow that will be inside of me' got to do with it?"
He looked up, locking eyes with her. "That hollow makes you more susceptible to the influences of either Atua Ma or Atua Na. It's like having an open door where others have walls. You can't be swayed by the zealots or charlatans who'd abuse this knowledge."
She looked sceptical but intrigued. "And how am I supposed to control these...forces? Or rather, how do they affect me?"
He leaned back, tapping his fingers on the table. "The simplest way to say it is this: Your intentions will direct the flow. If you're angry or emotional, Atua Ma will dominate. If you're focused and calm, Atua Na takes charge. But remember, one isn't better than the other; they're just tools. However, the Hollow will feed on any."
"So I control it by... controlling myself?" she asked.
"Exactly," he said, eyes narrowing. "It's a loop. You influence the energy, and the energy influences you. The more control you have over yourself, the better you can harness these forces. The better you can control the Hollow and, finally, destroy it."
She took a deep breath. "That's a lot to take in."
He grinned, reaching for the last of the crepes. "Good thing you're forgetting me then, isn't it? Frees you up to focus on the magic theory."
She rolled her eyes but smiled. "You're impossible."
"And you're a quick study. Keep that notebook close, and remember, don't let anyone convince you they have the 'one true way' to harness Atua. That path is yours to walk and yours alone."
The weight of his words settled in as she closed the notebook. "Ten years is a long time," she repeated, looking back at him.
"Is a lifetime."