—Inside the Teleportation Gate—

How would it feel, encased in a glass dome with snowflakes all around? Bloom stared at the closing portal, her boots clinking against the glass tube with ions buzzing on its outer circumference. Maybe she could have opted out while her brain screamed of danger. But her heart believed in her luck.

The long glass tube joined the start and the destination. It had no role in teleportation but ensured people weren't landing just anywhere but the destination. The blue ions were the dangerous teleportation material, helpful but dreadful. The cheapest teleportation system, she would say. And with the surplus jingling in her pockets, she had her own teleportation device.

“Tragedy.” Dragneel cursed under her breath. “I’m using a cheap ass shit when Ryuoketusai’s house was just a key’s turn away.”

She, by then, was observing the ions of the portal. The ions were pulsating energy around the column, aiding her descent to the destination. Boring, but she had to pass the time.

Then that happened.

She heard the cluttering of glass. Shards of glass sprinkled down, bypassing the ions. Dragneel whipped her head up when she heard the tube burst, and found a section of the column breaking, dissembling into glass dust. A second fault line crawled down like a spider web, spreading right above Bloom’s head as she passed by. The entire part dissipated into nothingness.

Until that point, the ions were akin to well-behaved neighbours roaming around. But the buzz stopped and returned intensely. Red hue oozed out of the blue ions, diffused with the glass of the column, and created holes in it. The blue aura of the portal changed into red.

A shiver ran up her spine and adrenaline coursed through her muscles. Her body slammed on the wall of the column like a ricocheting bullet, and the momentum dragged her further as the column dissipated behind.

Exposed to the portal ions, Bloom cut herself on them as they brushed past her. She brought her knees closer to her arms and formed a little ball. She covered herself with a layer of her energy to repel the ions attacking her. All she could do was wait till the ion storm passed away.

Ions rose in union as tides in the deep sea. Each wave threw her to another.

Bloom was positive she would still land somewhere in Dragonix. Finding a way back in the same universe is easier than landing in another and travelling back again.

“Let’s survive this first…So much just to hide some travel logs.”

The ions tore open another bend in the mother portal. It went beyond the algorithm ever set and twisted the fabric of space and time.

Bloom couldn't fathom a situation worse enough.

The new portal sucked in everything in its reach, like a bottomless black hole. The ions pushed her into the new portal, hurling her into another set of dimensions. She tried to shield away from the bombarding ions, but in vain.

Dragneel embraced herself into a tight hug before her back met the earth, knocking the breath out of her. She writhed on the ground, rolling from one side to the other. The sudden impact sent pain throbbing through her bones. Her head pounded hard, but she at least kept herself conscious.

A teleportation fault had only one outcome–death. And in rare cases, if someone survived the ride, it would cripple them for life.

Bloom got up on her hands and knees, and sat at the place to catch her breath. Her sight was a little blurry that sharpened with each passing moment. She checked her surroundings and found blackish-brown trees standing in files all around her. Not a single leaf on a tree. She clutched her fingers and caught dried leaves. Underneath that layer was a stone pathway.

It was the shedding season, autumn.

Bloom was thankful for the bed of leaves but…

"Where am I?" She looked at the dark sky.

She hadn’t noticed before, but wherever she was, it was past midnight. Hence, the images in her head were darker than they were supposed to be. But she wasn't at the Snow Palace for sure. Where was she?

A wet liquid dripped down her eyelashes and onto the ground. Blood, it was her blood from the scratches and the wounds. She raised her hand to feel the deep cut over her head. She felt her throbbing flesh with her fingers as the viscous blood oozed out. The cut had much depth, contrary to her belief. And since she was numb all over, she couldn’t feel the pain yet. All minor cuts and bruises had long healed, and in a matter of minutes, the deep wounds would heal. Blood clots formed with mesh supports, muscles connected—fibre to fibre, and the skin regenerated in layers. She calculated her recovery, also accounting for her fluctuating senses. In just nine minutes, she’d be good as new.

The only problem was her attire. Dragneel winced. What would she do with those finely torn pieces that barely hung on her body? While her waist remained secured, chest bindings in place, the layers of her shirt—rags. That was a problem to ponder upon.

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Suddenly, her ears twitched. Her irises dilated, and a chill ran over her skin. Her paranoia further sensitized her senses. It was a person. A powerful individual, she evaluated.

She scanned the path and stared as shoes clinked against the stony path and a shadow of a male humanoid became profound. Black mist covered his feet and his skin gleamed in the dark.

He stopped in front of her while the mist kept his appearance away from her. Dragneel squinted her eyes and glared at him. Her midnight orbs shimmered in the dark, and she took her stance on her knees. After all, a tiger was a tiger, injured or fit.

Bloom remembered her fights in the delirious of situations. With broken bones and ribs, torn tendons and muscles, depleting blood or fading consciousness, she had fought battles to victory. How much worse could that confrontation be?

The mist parted and revealed a young man with a shade of ash for his skin. His mesmerising stone grey eyes stared at her being with an eyebrow raised high. And his slim body wrapped in black robes towered over her crouching structure.

Bloom studied his robes. Finely designed golden threads woven into the fabric and a golden belt of jewels adorned his waist. Judging by his looks and aura, he was an aristocrat. She turned her gaze to his face, as his round pupils reemerged as slits.

Ah, he was getting angry.

His incessant stare tickled on Dragneel’s nerves. With no consideration, she blurted out a question.

“Who are you?”

The young creature curled his lips up and his eyes relaxed. “Shouldn’t I be the one to ask you?”

Bloom fixated on his face, then glanced at the side of his head, envisioning the distant mansion.

What should she answer?

He asked, “Who are you and what are you doing in my garden?”

Bloom looked at him. He was in no hurry, and unlike the stereotypical aristocrats, he allowed her a moment to think. The short-tempered aristocrats were the worst, in her opinion.

Bloom opened her mouth to say ‘Dragneel’ but stopped right before the disaster. That surname, an honour name, held high regards in Dragonix. As the individual standing in front was an aristocrat, there was no doubt he knew what ‘Dragneel’ was. She couldn’t blow up everything before it even started. Ryuoketusai would have her head for that.

“Bloom.” She agreed with her choice in her head.

“I am Night. So, what are you doing here?” Night smiled at her again and offered his hand.

“I was heading to the Ivory Realm. The Great Aide had placed an order for a bounty, and I was here to discuss the deal. But, the public Teleportation Gate broke down and here I am.” She stood on her feet, wobbling like a newborn fawn, her mouth spouting lies seamlessly.

The young man glanced at her clothes and then at her face. He evaluated something before he turned around. “Follow me.”

Bloom didn’t move for some time, but then trailed behind Night, who led the way to the mansion. She observed her surroundings, the statues and the flower plantations. She had landed on the pathway of his gardens. And yes, her host was a Dragon aristocrat.

The mansion was the ‘black beauty’ with a wide expanse of two hundred fifty acres. Built with the amalgamation of Basalt and Syenite, different units of the mansion spotted the scenery. The greys, blues and black meshed well with the lifeless, leafless trees in the gardens. Overall, the property was spooky as hell.

He raised his fingers to his lips as they neared the mansion. “Just keep quiet from here on.”

Bloom didn’t disobey. She placed her feet wherever he put his; hot on his heels. They circled the boundary and entered the mansion from a hidden passage around a unit at the back of the mansion.

Bloom deduced two reasons from their current scenario. Either he was a servant and not allowed to bring an outsider or he was the lord, but restricted.

They ascended spiralled stairs and manoeuvred through narrow passages. Night stopped at the end of a long, dark tunnel and felt for the texture of the stony wall. He popped a brick from the wall and found themselves in a bedroom.

“Sit.” He motioned her towards the bed.

Bloom sat down and he crossed the room to a big double door and cracked it. He whispered something outside. Then, a head peeped inside and looked at her. Dragneel smirked at the behaviour, but didn’t rebuke.

“Lord, do you want me to accompany you?” The person whispered to Night a few concerns.

The man nodded at the maid and stepped towards Bloom with a smile. “Miss Bloom, let me prepare some clothes.”

Bloom said nothing, but absorbed the phenomenon right before her. The man tapped his foot and a black mist lifted him above the wooden floorboards. His body turned into dust-like particles, swept along with the black mist, and disappeared into the maid’s shadow.

Bloom heard the person mumble incoherent prayers; the voice of a female. Dragneel experienced her gaze again as she listened to the female lick her dry lips and chant as if reminiscing about god. Then she walked away.

Before she was gone, Dragneel caught her whisper. “Miss, I am going to get some clothes for you. Just don’t step out of this room. At least for your sake.”

“I was right.” Dragneel thought. “Something is wrong. Why would the Lord sneak around his own house like a thief?”

Bloom closed her eyes and tapped the wooden floor in a rhythm. As each tap vibrated in the room, she created a mental picture of it. She opened her eyes and a plethora of colours flooded the sketch.

Sometimes Bloom wondered how care and meaning brought a difference in places of habitation. The room stood out from the hostile aura of the mansion in blue and grey with its brick red paint and black highlights. The golden doors on one side, the secretive wall on the opposite, the bed in a corner and the other walls covered in bookshelves. Neat.

Dragneel smirked a little. Night’s room suited his personality. Then her expression sobered. Maybe it was too soon to judge.

After a short while, the maid entered the room and hurried to close the door. Her hands held a tray atop which laid a set of clothes.

The black mist ejected out of the maid and spread throughout the room. Golden particles swirled in the black mist and a silhouette came to life. His short, black hair settled in a direction with the golden specks at the tips. Silver pulsated in the specks of his irises and the mist settled at his waist in a draped robe.

“Pardon for leaving you here, alone.” He looked down at the tray. “I have some clothes for you.”

He stepped aside, behind the ‘secret’, leaving Bloom in privacy to change her clothes. The maid offered to assist, to which Bloom declined.

Bloom sat on the bed in a black gown with silver detailing. Night slipped past and took a comfy chair on the opposite side of the bed and sank into the cushion, the right leg on his left knee. “It’s good that the gown fits you.”

Bloom nodded in acknowledgement.

“If you have questions, you may ask.”

“Are you the lord of this mansion?”

“Yes, I am.”

Dragneel thought for a moment. She needed a little confirmation of something. “And where is this?”

Night smiled as he intertwined his fingers on his knee. “Nyctoph Realm.”