Post-Spring nights were the best in Yravell city. A warm breeze rolled between the high buildings, carrying the promise of a temperate summer. They were fun—inviting, and when you had the time and capital, they were more than welcoming too. In a sleepy downtown area, a man teetered from a small club with a smile on his face. His blood buzzed with alcohol, his mind swam in the haze of cinnamon-flavored edible, and the few hours in good company made his night feel alive. It wasn’t, no more than the cars he saw driving up the street; no more than the shuttle in the distance—boarded, and driven away. A lot of people couldn’t stay out as long as him—the next day beckoned, but the night was still young. He heard a low grumble, and couldn’t agree more. He could go for a filling meal and knew a good place nearby.

There was comfort in the low light setting of this street. He could see the ground ahead and the stars looming above. This was good. This was perfect. This was why he loved Yravell city, and as the grumble came again, he knew his meal had to be outside. That made it more of a shame that no one was around. The streets were too quiet for a city this grand. No whispers of footsteps; no murmurs of joy, just a man with his thoughts, and a grumble growing louder. That was fine, his meal was right around the corner ahead. As he turned it, he stopped, confusion growing in the darkness looming further. This was not just the effect of the low lights. They were motion-sensing—dimming when no one was near, but there was a difference between dim and pitch. That’s what he saw. A blob of shadows ahead, sitting like a boulder where none should be. All right, maybe not a boulder, but his mind couldn’t make sense of the size. It wasn’t bigger than him, of average height. But, it still filled the sidewalk in that way that made you turn to pass by. The darkness was so full that it couldn’t be alive. Would a streetlight go completely out? He looked up and an eyebrow raised. They weren’t out but broken. He looked back and his heart tripped in its beats. The shadow was closer and his heart raced. It wasn’t that much of a shadow anymore. He could almost see the details of fur. His lulling mind leaped to work, tracking down a recent memory. Fangs shone as the shadow bared them, and his heart and mind came together in agreement. It was time to run!

Run! Turn around, turn your back to this thing. Put one foot ahead of the other and move without looking back. It came like thunder after him. And he ran on, turning the corner—running back to the club. The shadow bounded off walls and dropped in front of him. Heart hammering in his chest, he turned, dashing the other way. He ran across the street, bathing in the light of coming cars. They illuminated both body and mind, breaking the stupor more and more. And more, the shadow chased. The man ran even as his legs hurt and his lung swelled in protest. He ran because as terror and light cleared his mind, he knew he wouldn’t escape. The shadow was just lazy in pursuit, taking its time, savoring the moment. It would let him run until his body gave up. He had a plan though. Across the intersection ahead, his office building gleamed—alive even at this time of night. He grinned as he pushed harder. The shadow grumbled louder, catching wind of his plan. The signal told him “Don’t Walk,” but he nearly leaped forward, trusting Smart-Drive tech.

Then it hit.

Not the shadow, but the car. The squeal of brakes was loud. The curve of its front was heavy. He tumbled into the road, and more cars squealed. Smart drive saved him from the worst of it, but left him motionless, watching. The shadow waited at the edge of the street. He watched until it receded, and his eyes slammed shut.

The next day, Kiara Million heard this story on the news as she sat in the principal’s office.

.

It concluded, and as they switched to the weather, she glared forward—a scowl plastered on her face. She was still waiting for the principal to return. The burnt orange blouse of her uniform stuck sickly to her skin, and she longed for a moment to change. Beside her sat the cause of her discomfort. Emily was a girl of roughly her age and height, nonchalantly checked her nails. She was a rather pretty girl, with long brown hair in a ponytail, and shimmering blue eyes. She sat as if she was here for unrelated reasons, but swelling purple splotches said otherwise. They said Kiara was in trouble, too, but at the very least, they made her smile as she looked at the girl.

“This is your fault." Emily noticed, crossing her arms. The haughty look set a flame upon Kiara's forehead.

"My fault?" She barked. Emily gave back disgust. There wouldn't be a conversation or debate. They already knew how this started.

Kiara just wanted to get something from her locker. When she keyed in her passcode, something slimy splashed out, instead. It was oppressively sweet, pouring like warm honey, hitting with enough force to knock her to the floor. She groaned as her shirt clung, and Emily's raucous laughter came in response. The girl's friends joined in, uproarious with vicious mirth. Seeing the leader for who she was, Kiara moved, rage at the wheel.

Punch and slap, and scratch and punch. She wreaked havoc until they were pulled apart and ushered down the hall. With one look at them, the Principal left them room. For ten minutes, they waited, more annoyed than scared of his verdict. As the door came open at last, and the weary figure shuffled back in, Kiara knew exactly how this would go. She grimaced at the thought.

"Ms. Million," He looked at her with haggard eyes, seeing in chestnut skin and coiling dark hair, a disciplinary issue barely contained. "You're usually a well-behaved student; you're one of our track team's best runners." He took his seat and a hologram lit up on the corner of his desk, flashing "T. Blite" in golden letters.

"I am well-behaved, but she's not!" Kiara pointed an accusing finger. "Every other day, she gets her little group to do something stupid to me. If it's not putting weird goop in my locker, then it's breaking my desk so I can't get assignments. She gets away with so much stuff because her parents feed the school money!" She slammed her hands on the desk and Blite reeled back.

"Ms. Million!" He barked and her glare deepened.

"Don't Ms. Million me!" She roared. "I've had to deal with her since grade school! Do you honestly think I don't know what she does?" She pointed another finger, and for her part, Emily played innocent.

"I didn't do anything, Mr. Blite." She said coolly. Kiara could already see the shock melting off his face. Aghast, she pulled at her grimy shirt.

"Then how do you explain this?"

"I don't know." Emily covered her mouth. "I just saw it happened, and I know it's bad, but I couldn't help laughing." There was remorse in her eyes, but Kiara knew a smile lurked behind her hands.

"Ms. Million, do you even have proof she did it?" Mr. Blite tapped his desk, and Kiara gritted her teeth. Even if she could find proof, she never got the chance before she was locked away. Even if she had proof, she could see herself in his eyes. One thing had been enough to make her snap at him. One thing was enough to burn away any goodwill. A well-behaved student? Maybe that’s what she was before today, but now she bore the face of her rage. Crap.

"Who else could it have been?" She said, dejected. Mr. Blite shook his round balding head.

"That's a question you need to ask yourself. Now for your insubordinate display and attacking another student, I want you to bring your parents here tomorrow. We may have two weeks before the school year ends, but I will not be lenient for any misbehavior." A screen appeared, and his tapping marked his schedule. His attention turned to Emily. "As for you Ms. Stewart, remember that pranks are no laughing matter. You're not necessarily guilty, but by laughing, you encourage future abuse." His words were a dismissal, and taking them as such, Emily rose and smiled.

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"Of course," She nodded to him, sneering at Kiara as she left the room. Kiara knew she was dismissed too. As she looked at the man, however, staring sternly back, she found his name again and had to agree. The spelling was off, but the truth was there, this man was most definitely a blight.

Outside the office, she found her three friends waiting. Taylor, Tristan, and Shin were in a deep conversation, stopping to stare when she finally emerged. The three rushed forward, questions on their lips. Before they could say anything, she pulled at her shirt and Taylor smiled. They made their way to the locker rooms where she showered and changed into a T-shirt and shorts. The boys whistled when she came out, giving her a laugh. Taylor followed her out, throwing a hand over her shoulder.

"So go over it with us, Kiara." The taller girl grinned, and she sighed at the enthusiasm on her face. Taylor had been Kiara's friend since fourth grade, and always had a short fuse. Thin, with cool dark skin, she never hesitated when tempted to throw a punch. She prided herself in how many people she fought, but her mother had not taken the victories as well. When the girl took interest in middle school archery, her mother saw a chance. She would get as much support as she wanted, so long as she behaved. Taylor hadn't fought since then, but her bloodlust remained. Kiara could see it in her dark eyes—a need to be sated.

"Are you telling me that Emily's friends didn't say anything?" She met those eyes. Taylor shrugged.

"No. I just want to hear your version." She smirked. Kiara gave them a quick recap. Stunned and wide-eyed, they stared in shock as she spoke of Mr. Blite. Shin clapped when the story was through.

"The firecracker Kiara is at it again." He did it loudly. She punched him sharply.

He was the packaged deal that came with Tristan in middle school but would have the world believe he was a solo attraction. With a face that could lead to modeling, Shin stood as the tallest of them—light complexion, dark eyes alive with ideas. Shin, the idea man. He'd never agree to a title so lame, and yet... Ideas crowded in the front of his mind, waiting for relevance to leave his mouth. Firecracker got multiple chances. If you could light Kiara's fuse, she's going to explode. "It's a shame, though. Emily is really cute and her face is going to be rough looking for a few days." He crossed his arms in contemplation, and beside him, Tristan shook a head of brown hair.

"Kiara's not that strong—no offense—so the bruises will be shallow. With an hour-long soothing treatment, the swelling and blackness will go down before tomorrow." Kiara the Firecracker, and Tristan the Medic. Where there was a fuse for her, there was a button for him. Push it, and the tan boy would take you from sick to well in three seconds flat.

"I'd prefer she look like that until school is over," Kiara said. Taylor spoke on her tail.

"Thank you, Dr. Tristan, do you also want to tell us how she gets that sweet girl sparkle in her eye?" She clapped her hands, and Shin raised his.

"I actually want to know. I mean, come on, Emily's really cute." Taylor shoved him.

"Well, when you think about it…" Tristan started, and the others took off before he could finish. Left behind with Kiara, he smiled. "I'm glad you're all right." He waited until they wouldn't hear. Heat filled her cheeks, and she shook her head.

"It's just Emily. She has those scrawny secretary arms, meanwhile, I have…" She flexed and Tristan laughed.

"Scrawny runner arms?" He grinned and she pushed him.

"What are you saying, I definitely have muscle. Touch right here!" She pointed to her bicep and he gave it a poke.

"Well, I definitely didn't feel bone." He laughed again. Shin called back.

"If you two are done flirting, will you guys come on!" They went silent and followed, entirely aware of how closely they stood together.

As they made their way out of the school, Shin went on about what type of fighting styles Kiara should learn for her rematch. Her petite frame would lend itself to speed, and he loved the idea of her with flying kicks. Tristan thought a more direct style would help. He was practicing one himself and found sharp blows preferable. Taylor just wanted in on the next round. It made them wonder which of Emily's friends would join the fight too. Taylor hoped it would be her boyfriend. He was tall, stacked with muscles, somewhat handsome too. The others got the implication and paid with disgust. This and other things kept them distracted on their route from one corner of Yravell to another until their mobiles beeped. From pockets came thin sheets of slick glass. Touching the center made a screen appear, glowing with little icons. Without touching one, a projection rose. The twelve-inch screens showed a map of their current area, with a bulletin scrolling across the top. Tracking Report: It is believed the mysterious animal will appear in this location. Proceed with caution! Looks were traded when the screens darkened. Shin smiled widely.

"You know what they're calling it online?" He grinned and they shook their heads. "They're calling it The Speckled Beast and some people are saying that it's a monster, just like that guy on the news earlier!" He made claws of his hands, and Taylor crossed her arms.

"Are these people even in Yravell or are they just a bunch of net addicts looking for reasons why other places are weird. Ooh, there are so many mysteries in the world!" She rolled her eyes, but Tristan nodded.

"There are though." She pressed a finger to his lips.

"Tristan, don't be Shin. We don't need two Shins." He smiled as light filled his eyes. Her words tasted like regret. "No!" She barked, but the smile only brightened.

"I don't know," Kiara said. "I mean, I'm not exactly normal." She pointed at her eyes, and they stared.

How long had it been since they looked at her like that? She was just Kiara now but was a storied girl when they met. Have you seen the girl with scarlet eyes? She was the only one in the world that had eyes like them. They made her stick out in every room. To some people, they made her a curse. They were also just the tip of the iceberg. In a way, she wanted her eyes to reveal that for her. Have you seen the girl with scarlet eyes? The answer was usually yes. But no one could guess how abnormal she was. Showing them was an insanely easy thing to do, and it frightened her to her core. Have you seen the girl with scarlet eyes? Yes, but have you truly seen her? If her eyes did the talking, what would they say?

"Honestly, I think your eyes are beautiful." Tristan almost murmured this, and Kiara's heart skipped a beat. She looked away from him, and the others grinned wildly at the proclamation.

"Tristan," Shin said in a singsong voice. "Look at you just melting Kiara. Be careful, she might explode and be too much for you to handle." He grinned. Kiara swung at him.

"Yeah Trist. I think Kiara's the type who wants to be in control." Taylor chuckled. Kiara swung at her. The two of them laughed as they jumped away.

"But they are amazing." Tristan murmured once more, and Kiara looked at him.

"I like your eyes too." Though his were a more standard brown, she liked the way they would often shine.

They chatted and strolled till evening set, switching to text as they parted ways. Kiara didn't reply. She was getting closer to home and was thinking of what to say to her parents. How did she get in trouble in these last two weeks? Sure, it was Emily's fault, but she should have thought better. Then there was the insubordination. Saying Blite made her mad wouldn't excuse it. And with an expedition around the corner, it just added more stress. Her parents didn't need this on top of packing and research. For their sake, she had to soften the blow. But how could she? There were no accolades to sandwich the news. She had nothing hidden she could bring up, and not look suspicious. There was only the cold hard truth, and she worked her brain to dull the edges. It distracted her so long she almost missed the man in her path. Did he stop there? Or...was he always there to begin with? She stayed a safe distance away as she took him in. He was in his late twenties, but altogether out of place. Things started sensibly. His hair was cut almost to a buzz; sunglasses sat over his eyes. But then she saw his jacket and knew something was wrong. He stood in what seemed to be leather, with a pattern of flames running around its bottom. The jacket hung open, but a dark shirt was underneath, made of thick material. He wore blue jeans and black shoes to close the ensemble, but as a warm breeze rolled over them, her eyes went to the jacket again.

“Who are you?" The best question fired forward. As if he didn't expect to be seen, he sharply looked away.

"Who are either of us?" He shoved his hands into his pockets. Kiara took a step back, clutching her fist as the wind grew fast. "Some of us receive names at birth. Others receive them down the line, but how do we know which name is true? What if we are the ones who decide? How do you suppose we'd find out?" He replied, and Kiara glared at him.

"We decide the names that matter to us! If we don't like it, we can change it!" Why did she answer?

"Ah, but what if even those are wrong, what if our names are written on our souls."

"If you try anything, I'll fight you." She thought she could, but wondered all the same if she could call for help. Someone that much older and taller couldn't be beaten with bare hands alone.

"I think," The man took a moment to look back at her, "That to see our true names we merely need to look through the windows. Our eyes would tell us all we need to know. If I showed you mine, I think you would know my name." He said. "And through your eyes, I think I can see yours." He smiled. "Have you ever wondered why they are scarlet?" Somehow, that question struck and stunned. Yes, she had wondered, but he said it as if he had the answers. Or maybe it was just a guess? Or maybe he hoped she knew? Kiara pondered this for a moment too long. When she was done, the man was gone. With the path before her empty, she wondered where the strange man went. She'd keep her eyes peeled as she continued. Who knew what other strange things lurked around the corners...