Opposite Boston Common, three streets down the Dawn Avengers headquarters, there was a small, cozy cafe. Inside, Lyn's usual table sat at the back, right next to the window. She frowned and tapped her fingers—wait a minute, what was she doing here?

Her eyes floated towards the copy of the Quester's Tribune next to a notepad and a cup of coffee. Ah right, she was finding commissions for her newly-formed team. Not an easy task—she had never received this many rejections in her life before.

Lifting her head, she looked around. Huh, the cafe was peculiarly empty. Where was everyone?

She spotted a familiar figure from the corner of her eye and cried out in relief, "Cinnamon!"

The petite woman spun around, her silky ponytail fluttered across the air with a soft swish. The moment her large, round eyes spotted Lyn, she broke into a smile—a smile that never failed to make Lyn's heart soar like a helium balloon.

"Lyn." Cydney trotted towards her, a plate of dessert in her hands. "I got you your favorite tiramisu."

"You did?" Lyn could not stop grinning. "Oh, thank you so much, Cinnamon Cake. You're seriously the best."

Cydney chuckled, her cheeks turning pink. "Am I?"

"Of course you are! I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Really?" The smile on the Asian woman's face disappeared. "Then why did you let me go?"

Lyn blinked. "W- What?"

The next thing she realized, the cafe was swallowed by dark shadows. When the world appeared around her again, she found herself on her bed, face down and on all fours. Lying under her was Cydney, her black hair sprawled over the pillow while a rosy hue washed over her contorted face. Lyn's heart skipped a beat.

"Cinna?" Her eyes traveled down towards Cydney's bare body.

Pale, slim, a flawless hourglass figure, the woman could've been a model if not for the endless amount of scars all over the torso. With a shaky hand, Lyn caressed the wounds.

"Oh my god, Cinna..." she whispered. "Who did this to you?"

"Will you protect me from them?" Cydney's voice was weak and breathy.

"Of course I will." Lyn's free hand wrapped around Cydney's waist, pulling her body up into an arc. "I swear, I will protect you forever."

"Then, why, Lyn?" Once again, Cydney's expression became as blank as a soulless doll. "Why did you let me go?"

"What? No!" Lyn shook her head. "I will never, I swear, I- I won't-"

But the warm touch of the porcelain doll began to fade.

"No, no, no, wait!" Lyn screamed. "Cinna, don't leave! Please!"

She tried to grab Cydney, but she ended up grasping the air, pulling at the bedsheet, tearing through the bed. But no matter what she did, Cydney was getting away, disappearing, leaving her... No, no, no, no, no...

Then, she jolted awake, heart beating through her chest, skin sticky with sweat.

Oh, it was another one of those nightmares. She must have forgotten to take her sleeping potion again. Slumping back down on her bed, Lyn let out a loud groan. What the heck happened last night? Her entire body was aching so bad.

She sighed and rolled over to the side—or at least, she tried to roll over. But she couldn't; her hands were pulled up into a rather awkward position, a metal chain tying them up to the bedposts behind her. She blinked.

Wait, what?

She blinked a little more and realized that she was not in her room, or anywhere that she recognized for that matter. Instead, she was inside this tiny, cottage-like room.

The square window to her side was lined with vases of flowers, with just enough gap to let the mellow sunlight seep into the wooden floors. Next to her comfortable bed sat a small bedside table with yet another vase of flowers. The place felt warm and welcoming, if not for the fact that she was chained up like a criminal.

"Oh, you're awake."

Lyn turned her head to see a middle-aged woman. Thick, platinum hair was loosely braided and wrapped around her head like a flower crown. Her eyes, twinkling in amusement, were as grey as her hair, while her long gown swayed in the air as she sauntered towards Lyn.

Lyn did not need any introduction to this woman.

"Sybil Dalman," she growled.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Sybil's smiling lips curled up even more. "Lyn Bronte."

"How do you know my name?" Lyn demanded.

"Same reason how you know mine."

Without thinking, Lyn tried to lunge towards the witch, but the chains on her wrists pulled her back. She couldn't even move her legs either—under the blanket, her legs were chained up too.

"What do you want from me?" she yelled. Small sparks of electricity ran through her skin, but she was too exhausted to summon more of them. "And what the heck did you do to me?"

"That's not the attitude you should have when talking to the person who healed you." Sybil settled on the chair next to Lyn's bed, crossing her legs dramatically. "And you have no one to blame but yourself for the state you're in. We had to dig you out of all that rubble to get to you; it's a miracle you're alive right now. And after all that trouble, I don't even get a simple 'thank you'? I'm hurt, Lyn."

"Bullshit. If you healed me, then what's all this about?" Lyn said, yanking on the chains to prove her point. "Let me go right now!"

"Oh, that? Oh, I'm sorry, but I can't do anything about that. After all, I didn't put those chains on you." The witch gave Lyn a wink. "Your girlfriend did."

Girlfriend?

Realization dawned on Lyn as her memories came flooding back into her. That's right! Cinna! She was trying to protect Cinna from the collapsing cave before she blacked out.

"Where is she? What happened to her? What did you do to her?"

"What did I do to her?" Sybil leaned forward, her fingers tapping on her cheeks. "What exactly do you think I did to her, hm?"

Lyn clenched her fist. It all made sense now. The recent high-profile thefts of treasures, the appearance of the new witch, the way Cydney was running away, so afraid, so desperate... It was Sybil all along.

"You forced her into becoming the Crimson Witch," she snarled.

Sybil laughed. "No, I didn't. You were the one who forced her."

"What?" Lyn frowned. "What are you talking about?"

The older woman tilted her head, her eyes boring into Lyn so intensely that it was starting to become a little bit uncomfortable. "She came to me willingly, and then willingly became the Crimson Witch," —she took a short pause as if she was savoring the way she was taunting Lyn— "after you betrayed her."

Lyn felt as though she was struck by her lightning five times over. "W- What? I- I... I didn't..."

"Oh, did you forget? From what I heard, you fed her truth serum without her consent."

"I- I didn't mean to... A- And I flushed it out of her system immediately after that."

"Ah, but you were still willing to put her through that," Sybil said, the smile on her face was icy cold. "You were still willing to torture her for the QA."

"That's not... I- I would never..."

Sybil chuckled. She lifted her hand and patted Lyn on the head, to which Lyn responded by shaking her head vigorously. "Lyn, oh, Lyn, I'd suggest you forget about her. After all," she said with an annoying drawl, "she chose me, not you."

Blood rushed into Lyn's head. Once again, she struggled against the chains, trying to land a hit on the witch's face. "There's no way she'd choose someone like you," she spat. "You must have done something to her!"

"Why not, my dear? Why won't she choose me?" Sybil gasped exaggeratedly. "I'm so offended, Lyn. I'm protecting her in ways you can't, you know. She's safe from the QA with me; are you able to say the same?"

"Yes!" Lyn exclaimed. "I can protect her too!"

"Oh really?" Sybil raised her eyebrows. "I seriously doubt that, quester. I'm also teaching her things you can't teach her: all sorts of magic that you elemental mages can't even dream of doing. And she's a really fast learner too. In addition to magic..." Her face twisted into a derisive smirk. "I'm also teaching her all about human anatomy."

That last sentence tipped Lyn off the edge.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" she yelled, thrashing around furiously as the skin on her wrists began to tear from the friction. "Don't be a fucking coward and let me go! Fight me right now, right here, if you dare!"

"Oh, honey." The witch's voice was as sweet as that word, but Lyn was finding it absolutely disgusting. "You know you can't win against me."

"Then fucking let me go and try me!" Amidst Sybil's mocking laughter, Lyn screamed and flailed about aggressively, but the most she could do was to knock her blanket off.

Then, a voice silenced the two of them.

"Didn't I say not to disturb her, Sy?"

Both women stopped what they were doing to look at the newcomer. A small hooded figure was standing by the door and holding a bowl, brows furrowed in disapproval. Straggly, auburn hair that reminded Lyn of her own spilled from the hood, while a pair of eerily red eyes hung above a face veil. The Crimson Witch.

Lyn's eyes were glued onto her as she approached the bed. Despite the hair and the eyes, everything else about her was so painfully familiar. From the petite body to the way her feet touched the ground, so quiet and so nimble...

How could someone look so familiar, yet so unfamiliar at the same time?

"Cinna?" Lyn croaked. "Is it you?"

The woman did not answer her. Instead, she walked over to Sybil placidly, placing the bowl on the bedside table—a bowl of steaming chicken broth.

"They won't be able to find us for a while." Even though she kept her voice low, it was enough to send chills down Lyn's spine.

Sybil nodded and stood up. "I'm done here too." She gestured towards Lyn, not forgetting to give her a cheeky wink. "She's all yours."

"Thank you, Sy."

"No worries." Sybil placed a hand on the smaller girl's shoulder as she walked by. "But don't hang around too long, alright?"

The moment the older witch left, Lyn went into a frenzy.

"Cinna, Cinnamon, it's you, isn't it?" she cried, thrashing around as much as she could while being bound. "I can recognize your voice anywhere! Talk to me, Cinna, tell me, what did the Witches do to you? Let me help you!"

The hooded figure turned to face her.

Lyn almost let out a gasp when she saw swirls of darkness appearing within the blood-red eyes of the Crimson Witch. The black slowly filled the entire irises before overflowing into her hair. As she pulled down her hood, she combed through her hair with her fingers, straightening them in the process. She removed her mask—and Lyn stopped breathing.

Cydney.

Round, chubby cheeks that had felt so good to peck on; small, pink lips forming a small pout, the taste of it etched into Lyn's mind; furrowed brows over the large, round eyes that took Lyn's breath away. This was the face Lyn had been dreaming about for months. This was the face she loved the most, and the face that had tormented her mind endlessly.

"Cinnamon..." Lyn managed to choke out a small whimper as her eyes lapped up this image of Cydney—real, physical Cydney, not just the blinding lights from the eye-fone.

Cydney smiled in response, and Lyn felt her heart squeeze and shrivel like a scrunched paper flower. It was a small smile, so different from the big ones in the eye-fone, but so familiar at the same time. And so, so much better.

"Have some soup, Lyn," Cydney said, holding up the bowl of chicken broth, "you were really hurt."