Tears of agonizing pain ran downhill across her cheeks, filled with sorrow, coming from a shattered soul belonging to a ten-year-old girl. She was seated on a chair in front of a metal table at the Villa Avellana police station, within the territories of Nemea, part of the nation of Trisary. She huddled, clutching her knees tightly under a white blanket that served as a cocoon, leaving her head of chestnut hair adorned with a pink bow, matching the dress covering her, exposed.
Inside the interrogation room, dazed by a sedative potent enough to weaken her but not render her unconscious, she held onto a cotton rabbit plush toy with button eyes. It had become her only companion, eventually used as a tissue to wipe away her tears. No one approached her, not after delivering the dreadful news: her mother had passed away in the hospital.
At the time, she didn't understand it, unsure if it was the excess work that led to her mother's declining health and eventual demise, or if the depression medication caused an overdose resulting in cardiac arrest. None of it made sense in her mind; she couldn't even focus on the officer, who, with a helmet adorned with angelic golden wings against his chest and a hand on her shoulder, tried to explain while offering her a cup of hot chocolate.
She only screamed like she had never screamed before, denying that reality so vehemently that she hurt her throat and her face flushed red. She had lost her father a long time ago, and with her mother's passing, her life seemed impossible, the only thing left to her had vanished, leaving her adrift in the world.
Something inside her broke, and in that pain, the dormant storm within her awakened. As clarity came, all the lights exploded into shards under an overload of energy. Office furniture lay overturned and scattered in piles of broken wood beneath the gentle descent of white papers, amid the stunned gaze of the personnel.
She didn't fully comprehend what had happened, attacked by panic as she found herself cornered by officers who, once empathetic, now approached her as if she were a dangerous animal. She even saw one of them tentatively reaching for his gun.
With danger looming over her, she unconsciously unleashed that invisible force again, pushing them away. It didn't take long for her to be subdued, and in the futile struggles, a syringe pierced her neck; a liquid flowed through her veins, draining all strength, rendering her completely docile.
The officers were prepared, initially taken by surprise and then able to restrain her in the second assault. None of them were inexperienced; their practiced handling of such situations was evident. They knew the protocol for containing children with the newly awakened latent mutagen, and what was to be done.
The sound of heavy boot steps made her lift her face, one with doll-like features despite the tears. The door next to the frosted glass of the gray room opened, admitting her visitor.
It was a woman dressed in a white coat with orange details, wearing a shawl and holding a closed umbrella, previously used as protection from the snow falling that winter. A wide-brimmed hat adorned with a golden ring rested on her head, and her face, speckled with freckles, was partly visible.
The woman stood out for her heterochromia, with hair and eyes of different colors. Her eyes, one white and one black, were framed by wheel-shaped glasses with golden frames. One side of her hair was silky and shiny like the full moon, while the other half was dark as the night. Both sides were styled into two pigtails cascading elegantly over her shoulders.
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"A witch," the thought crossed her mind as she noticed the hat, based on the stories she had read in her spare time. Even though her mother joked that only someone begging to be burned would walk the streets wearing such a death sentence.
Her skin grew pale, and her breath caught as she glimpsed the woman's legs. What should have been boots were platinum mechanical implants resembling armor, extending just above the knees. The girl swallowed hard, unable to fathom the kind of life the spellcaster must have had to end up in such a fate.
Beside the woman stood a dark-skinned officer, who allowed her to enter. They exchanged disdainful glances, and without uttering a word, the woman entered the room, the door closing behind her. She murmured something inaudible to the girl, and from the furrowed brow, she deduced they couldn't be compliments.
"Oh, I know what's happening with you," spoke the woman in a raspy tone, exuding an air of intellectualism tinged with arrogance. "I've seen it before with other brats. And just so you know, it's a blessing, not a curse."
"What? I don't understand," she weakly blinked.
"You emit a very faint signal... a reflection of your state." She displayed a bracelet with a white gem
, then took a seat. Placing a paper bag on the table, she retrieved a cinnamon roll with raisins. "What's your name? I'm Priscila Galdenstark... I work as a gold-ranked guardian with the Steel Eagles."
She showed her military rank medallion. The girl's purple eyes lit up, and her jaw dropped, a droplet of hungry saliva running down. Even with her nose covered, she could still catch the warm, sweet aroma of the pastry, still emanating the steam of freshly baked bread.
"Maria... Maria Cruz."
"Interesting..." Priscila noticed a human-sized ear peeking out from among the strands and ending in a point. "A half-breed, huh? Do you want it? Take it." She extended her arm to offer it, and immediately the girl covered herself even more with the blanket, wary. Priscila slid the bag forward until it was in front of Maria, at a safe distance. "Don't you... accept sweets from strangers? You're a smart girl... and I hope smart enough to realize you won't survive on your own. Is there no one coming for you?"
"I... I don't..." She trailed off, speaking in a hoarse, almost aphonic, and interrupted voice. Feeling intimidated by the presence of the witch, mixed with the sedative, prevented her from articulating words coherently.
"Relax... I want to help you." The corners of her lips stretched wide, revealing her white teeth, her darkened face letting out a raspy and chilling laugh, akin to that of an elderly woman, a witch. "We're from the same tree... so relax. I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you... I'm going to teach you how to control it."
She spoke to her as if Maria were another adult, not holding back and getting straight to the point. Maria didn't know it then, and it wasn't until years later that she learned, in the instant of her awakening, she ceased to be a child forever.
Arte: jimmy Hatmaster y Cristian Vilas
Arte: jimmy Hatmaster y Cristian Vilas [https://img.wattpad.com/39f98b81808b90264803671d101392011e74ccd3/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f2d7a467150544463346c6a3253513d3d2d313336313239383432332e313737306131346330643763356264393239323634393936323431352e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
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