Twelve years ago, she heard a voice from the other side of the bars. It wasn’t the usual wrath that the guards would use. This voice was much smoother and more inviting. The softness rang a pleasant bell in her ears. Has she ever heard such an innocent voice?

The voice asked her if she wanted to tag along. They were going to escape. It was the first time she had willingly walked towards the bars. She couldn’t be happier. The muscles on her face curled upward. She forgot they could even do that. How did her smile look? Were her teeth showing? Were they supposed to?

She offered light in the darkest abyss. In Sylvia’s mind, she had already proclaimed the person on the other side of the bars as her savior. She would guide Syliva to the brightest lights the world could offer—to smell the blooming flowers, reach for the sparkling stars, and grab fruits that dangled on the branches. She wanted to do it all. And this was her chance. This was it.

But she was denied, rejected, and brushed aside like a piece of lint. The girl beside her didn’t want her, and she kept Sylvia away from her dreams.

Why? Why pull my savior away? Why? Please… come back, is what she thought back then.

Syliva’s savior turned her head around. The girl with the red… her face glimmered with regret. She truly wanted Syliva.

Syliva had never felt wanted, and the hope she held within felt comforting. But it was quickly snatched away and shoved into an unreachable box. She would never forget that name.

Jill.

Her hope. Her happiness. Her dreams.

Jill selfishly took it all.

Later that night, the king explained everything. How Syliva’s savior was killed, and how the devil lived. Her blood fumed with intense hatred. She punched the walls, screaming, crying, her eyes on the brink of bursting. She wasn’t in control of her body. Some spirit must’ve used her as a host, causing her to act this way.

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The king grabbed ahold of her, pulling her into his chest. He held her like a parent comforting their child during a tantrum. The spirit popped out of her, making her return to normal.

He asked what her dream was. She opened her mouth, wanting to say it, but something felt off. The outside world, rolling in the sharp grass, climbing the trees, drinking stream water, she didn’t desire any of that. In a short span, her entire dream changed. She didn’t want peace. She desired revenge. She wanted to walk away from Jill while she was between death’s fangs, helplessly pleading for mercy. She wanted Jill to lead a joyful life so she could snatch it all away. She wanted to demolish Jill’s happiness, just like how she diminished her hope.

She looked straight ahead at the dull wall, saying she wanted to become a royal guard. If she could become one and climb the ranks, she could prove herself worthy. Wouldn’t that be something?

The king snickered but approved of her dream. He left, assuring Syliva that her dream wouldn’t be forgotten and that he would come back.

She would randomly crack up in the cell, laughing like a maniac. She would imagine herself killing herself over and over again. She would smile, though the smile never felt right. It lacked something that made it special and never felt the same as the one on that day.

Shortly after he made that promise, he returned for her, sheltered her, and provided her with a personal training ground.

She also had a private pantry piled with food she’d never heard of.

Her hatred led her to this. She despised everything about her. She had freedom and a connection with someone she considered ‘special,’ even though that special was no longer there.

Jill still had the opportunity to experience it, which had Syliva gagging. Her selfishness led her to a divine feeling, one she couldn’t grasp. Jill found it so easily while Syliva sheltered herself away.

It’s amusing, isn’t it?

Jill lived through love. Syliva lived through hatred.

But if you love something, you equally hate something else. She loved the people around her but despised the world in which she walked across. Syliva hated everyone in sight, wishing death on anyone who told her otherwise, but loved how cruel this world was. That cruelty would be inflicted on someone else, and she would imagine Jill suffering their suffering.

But love and hate aren’t opposites. They’re mirrored. They’re the exact same thing in different directions. We are a reflection of each other.

But now, defeated as she was, she watched Jill walk away once again. This time, Jill didn’t take anything away. As much as she hated to admit it, she gifted her a new purpose. For the first time in twelve years, she wasn’t boiling with hatred but rather eagerness.

She would be lying if she said she wanted her dead. If Jill made it to Ionia, that would be a relief. She didn’t want to cross paths with her again. Not because she was afraid of her or anything. It’s because Sylvia didn’t want to be reminded of hatred any longer.