Against, History

Adam sat cross-legged in the middle of his scorched room, now sparsely furnished with hastily delivered replacements: a plain bed, a small desk, and stacks of blank notebooks. The scent of charred wood still lingered in the air, though Adam didn't mind. It matched the mess in his head. He flipped through one of the empty notebooks, aimlessly sketching a spiral as his thoughts churned.

"Magic… is fucking stupid," he muttered, exhaling heavily.

Yesterday's self-inflicted inferno had left him alive—more than alive, really—but with a host of questions he couldn't answer. He glanced at his arm, flexing his fingers. He'd grown. His body had aged in an instant, surging through time in a way that shouldn't have been possible. It was good, sure, but…

"Why?" he murmured, tapping the notebook with the charred edge of a pencil. "If I can't recreate it, what's the point? And I'm definitely not setting myself on fire again."

Hours passed as he scribbled notes and doodled diagrams, trying to piece together the mechanics of his sudden transformation. Then, as if struck by a bolt of clarity, he froze mid-doodle.

"Wait… ritual magic!" he exclaimed, sitting upright. "That's it! Maybe I accidentally combined elemental magic with ritual. Fire—fast, destructive, transformative. I must've connected it to growth in my head… but if that's the case, why didn't I starve? My body should've needed material for the growth—food, nutrients—but I feel fine. Not hungry, not malnourished…"

His brow furrowed as he considered another possibility. "Could it have used… something else? The burnt items? Maybe the ash acted as a substitute?" His words trailed off into frustrated silence. "Goddammit, I don't know…"

Before he could spiral further, a sound interrupted his thoughts: a low, guttural noise, like whispers in a language he couldn't recognize.

"#@$%&*%^#…?"

Adam stiffened, turning toward the source of the sound. "Huh? Who's there?" His eyes darted around the room, but there was no one.

Then the door creaked open, and in walked the Queen.

Leah stood in the doorway, her sharp gaze sweeping across the charred remnants of Adam's room. Her expression was neutral, though her lips curved slightly, as if suppressing amusement or disdain. Adam met her gaze with an unimpressed look, leaning back lazily against the wall.

"What do you want… master?" The last word dripped with reluctant venom. Even though he resisted the compulsion, the curse made it slip out, souring his tone.

Leah raised an eyebrow at his insolence but didn't comment on it. Instead, she spoke.

"@#$%&*&^%#^?"

Adam blinked, frowning. "What? I can't understand you. Oh, right…" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't have my crystal anymore. It got confiscated or something."

Leah tilted her head, clearly irritated by the inconvenience. Adam grabbed a blank notebook and quickly sketched a crude drawing of the crystal, holding it up for her to see. Recognition flickered in her eyes.

She called for someone, and moments later, Boyud, her horned beastfolk butler, entered the room. She murmured something to him, and with a respectful nod, he disappeared. Not long after, he returned, carrying the requested crystal.

Adam took it, holding it tightly. He exhaled, the magic flowing back into him as the connection reestablished. "Finally. Can you understand me now, master?" The word tasted bitter on his tongue, but he forced it out.

"Yes, I can," Leah replied, her tone cool. Then, with an edge of suspicion, she added, "That is quite the magical artifact you possess. I've never seen anything like it."

Adam shrugged, feigning indifference. "Yeah, it's neat, I guess."

Leah's expression darkened for a moment before she composed herself. "In two days' time, you and I will attend a banquet," she announced. "It will be a gathering of nobles, allies, enemies, and wealthy merchants. Most importantly, the church will be involved. The Pope himself will be present. I plan to introduce you, to showcase you as my new ally. I trust I don't need to remind you to behave?"

Her attempt at sounding domineering was laughable, almost forced. Adam noticed but didn't comment. Instead, he sighed, waving a dismissive hand. "Yeah, yeah. Just get me something appropriate to wear… master."

The Queen lingered for a moment, as if studying him, before turning on her heel and leaving. Adam leaned back against the wall, muttering, "Now, back to magic theories. God, I hate magic…"

The Queen's Thoughts

Leah walked briskly down the hallway, her heels clicking against the stone floor. Once she was out of earshot, she turned to Boyud, who followed closely behind.

"That artifact," she began, her voice low but sharp. "Tell me, Boyud—have you seen anything like it?"

Boyud, the ever-composed butler, bowed slightly before responding. "No, Mistress Leah. Not in my entire life. That artifact is of considerable strength. Whoever crafted it must be of extraordinary skill—perhaps on par with the Magic King of Has Republic… or even an Elemental." He hesitated. "However, take my words with caution, my lady. My knowledge is vast, but my power is not what it once was."

Leah's lips curled into a thin smile. "Don't say such things, Boyud. I chose you because you are the most capable magician in the Empire. To doubt yourself is to doubt my judgment."

Boyud chuckled softly. "My lady, I may be knowledgeable, but my strength pales in comparison to true high magicians. Age has not been kind to me."

Leah barely heard him, her mind racing with the implications of Adam's artifact. Her thoughts spiraled, dark and giddy.

(My little prince… you're hiding more and more secrets from me. But I understand. Oh, I do. If your world can produce someone capable of such craftsmanship, it is both reassuring and terrifying.)

She shivered, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. (Whoever created that crystal must be extraordinary. But you—Adam Terra—you possess it. You, who seem so ordinary and yet are anything but. Just who are you?)

Her smile widened, a flicker of madness dancing in her expression. (No matter. The darkness within me aches to know. And I will know. Soon.)

________________________

Varin paused mid-step as she spotted a familiar figure sitting by the town's fountain. Ms. Eldez.

The sight shouldn't have been strange—people rested there all the time—but seeing Ms. Eldez outside the guild was… jarring. Especially now that she was no longer part of it. Since her dismissal, the only other time Varin had seen her was during an impromptu picnic months ago.

"Ms. Eldez?" Varin called hesitantly, her voice carrying across the cobblestone square. "What are you doing here?"

Ms. Eldez turned slowly, her movements deliberate, like a marionette guided by invisible strings. Her eyes, pale and void of life, settled on Varin. They were the same as always: cold, glassy, and unreadable. Her complexion, unnaturally pale, gave her the appearance of a porcelain doll left too long in the dark. The contrast between her jet-black hair and her near-translucent skin was unsettling, as if she were a ghost masquerading in human form.

"Oh, Varin," Ms. Eldez said, her lips curving into an unnervingly serene smile. "How delightful to see you. I must say, I felt like taking a walk, and you came to mind. So, I thought to visit. But it seems you've found me first. How charming!"

Her tone was cheerful, almost too cheerful, but her eyes betrayed her. They held no spark, no joy—only an endless void that sent a chill down Varin's spine.

Varin shifted uncomfortably. "You… wanted to see me? Why?"

Ms. Eldez tilted her head, the eerie smile never leaving her face. "I'm leaving Kedora soon," she said, her voice light but with an unsettling undertone. "I thought I'd ask if you might tag along."

Varin blinked, taken aback. "You're leaving? Where to? And… why me?"

"I'm heading to Has," Ms. Eldez replied. She spoke as though the answer should have been obvious. "As for why you… Well, I enjoy your company, Varin. I'd feel rather lonely without you."

Her words were simple enough, but the way she said them sent an odd shiver through Varin. There was something too measured, too practiced about the way her lips moved. Her smile remained fixed, her face unnaturally still, as though she were merely mimicking human expression.

"I… don't know," Varin admitted, glancing back at the town she had called home her entire life. "I've lived here forever. To just leave… it's a lot to think about."

For a moment, Varin became lost in thought, her gaze drifting to the familiar rooftops and narrow streets of Kedora. The memories came flooding back: her childhood games, the bustling market, the warm lights of the guild hall. But there were shadows too—recent ones. Disappointment, stagnation, the feeling of being stuck.

She snapped back to the present, looking at Ms. Eldez. "Do you… really want me to come with you?"

Ms. Eldez's smile widened slightly, her head tilting just a fraction more. "Of course, Varin. I would love your company. Truly."

For the first time, her voice sounded genuine. And yet, the intensity in her gaze was unsettling, as though her words carried an unspoken weight.

Varin hesitated but found herself nodding. "…Alright. Let me grab a few things. When are we leaving?"

Ms. Eldez's smile didn't falter. "Right now. I've already packed my things."

Varin froze, caught off guard by the abruptness. But as she studied Ms. Eldez's unchanging expression, she realized there was no room for negotiation.

With a small sigh, Varin nodded again. "Okay. Give me a few minutes."

Ms. Eldez remained seated, her hands folded neatly in her lap as she watched Varin leave. Her gaze lingered on the young woman, the faintest glimmer of something unknowable flickering in her lifeless eyes.

As Varin disappeared around the corner, Ms. Eldez spoke softly to herself, her eerie smile widening.

"How delightful indeed."

__________________

"Y-yeah!" Varin's scream pierced the quiet forest as she lashed out instinctively. Her fist collided with something solid, and she staggered back, her breath catching in her throat. When she dared to open her eyes, she froze in horror.

A person—no, a bandit—lay crumpled in front of her. Or rather, what was left of them. Their head had been severed clean from their neck, rolling a few feet away to rest in the dirt, lifeless eyes staring at nothing.

"Oh my gods. Oh my gods. Oh my gods. What did I do?" Varin's voice rose into panicked hysteria as nausea clawed at her stomach. Her legs felt like they would give out any moment. She didn't even remember hitting that hard.

Before her spiraling thoughts could consume her, a cool hand rested on her shoulder. The touch sent a cold shiver down her spine.

"Varin, dear," came Ms. Eldez's familiar, lilting voice. "Why did you stop? Are you alright?"

Varin turned sharply, her wide eyes meeting the calm, unnervingly serene expression of Ms. Eldez. That faint, unnatural smile still played on her lips.

"M-Ms. Eldez!" Varin stammered, her voice cracking. "I—I killed someone! Oh gods, I killed them! What do I do? What do I—"

Ms. Eldez tilted her head, her expression unchanging. "Whatever are you talking about, Varin? There's no one here."

Varin blinked, staring at her in disbelief. "What?! What do you mean? They're right there! I—I accidentally removed their head! It's—it's right there, see?" She whipped her head back toward the spot where the body lay.

But there was nothing.

The road ahead stretched empty and undisturbed, save for the light scattering of fallen leaves. No blood. No corpse. No severed head.

"Huh?!" Varin's voice cracked with desperation as she stumbled forward, searching the ground frantically. "It was right here! I saw it! I—I did it! Did I… pulverize it so hard it disappeared? Oh no, what have I done?!"

Ms. Eldez chuckled softly, the sound light and melodic, yet strangely hollow. "Varin, you're clearly overtired. It's been a long journey. Perhaps your mind is playing tricks on you."

"But—" Varin hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth across the path. It didn't make sense. She was certain of what she saw.

"Come now," Ms. Eldez interrupted gently, her hand guiding Varin forward. "Let's walk a little further. A short rest will do wonders for your nerves."

Varin swallowed hard, still trembling, but nodded reluctantly. "Y-yeah, okay…" she mumbled, falling into step beside Ms. Eldez.

As they continued down the road, Varin kept glancing over her shoulder, her unease lingering like a dark cloud. The forest felt heavier, the air colder.

She didn't notice the skeletons among the trees.

They stood like macabre sentinels, barely visible in the dim light, their ivory bones gleaming with a strange, wet sheen. Steam rose faintly from them, curling into the air like ghostly tendrils. The bodies had been stripped clean, their flesh and life seemingly stolen in an instant.

Ms. Eldez, however, noticed.

Her smile deepened ever so slightly, her humming soft and unhurried, blending with the rustling of the leaves.

When they finally stopped to rest, Varin collapsed onto a patch of soft moss, burying her face in her hands.

"Ms. Eldez," she whispered, her voice small. "What's wrong with me? Am I going crazy?"

Ms. Eldez sat down beside her, folding her hands neatly in her lap. Her movements were unnaturally smooth, as though she weren't constrained by the same muscles and joints as everyone else.

"Don't fret, my dear," she said, her tone soothing yet distant. "The mind can be a tricky thing. Sometimes it sees things that aren't there… and sometimes it doesn't see what is."

Varin glanced up at her, her expression conflicted. "What does that mean?"

Ms. Eldez's smile widened ever so slightly, her dark eyes glinting with something unreadable.

"Nothing at all, my dear. Now, rest. We still have quite the journey ahead of us."

Varin lay back, her exhaustion overwhelming her unease.

And behind them, hidden among the shadows of the forest, the skeletons stood in silent, eerie witness.

_____________

Varin tossed and turned on the soft moss until, at last, sleep overtook her. Yet even in slumber, her mind offered no solace. She found herself standing in that same dark forest, surrounded by twisted trees whose branches reached like skeletal hands. Their trunks bore grotesque knots that, in the dim light, looked disturbingly human. The air carried the faint sound of a child crying, a familiar and unsettling echo that tugged at her heart.

"Wait… this place again?" Varin muttered, shivering as a chill passed through her. Despite her unease, she moved toward the sound, her boots crunching softly on the forest floor.

The crying grew louder until she found its source—a young girl. Dark-haired and pale, dressed in an antiquated style Varin only recognized from the elders' stories, the girl was huddled by a gnarled tree. She looked just as Varin remembered from before, fragile and small, yet with an eerie weight to her presence.

"Hey, it's you again!" Varin called, trying to sound cheerful despite her nerves. "Uh… what's your name again?"

The girl's sobbing stopped abruptly as she looked up at Varin with tear-streaked cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. Her gaze was intense, far too knowing for someone her age.

"It's you," the girl said, her voice trembling with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. "What are you doing here? Are you lost this time too?" She sniffled and wiped her face with the back of her hand before standing.

Varin blinked. "Uh, no, I'm not lost. I just… found myself here again." She hesitated, then added, "Hey, why were you crying? Is it something I can help with?"

The girl ignored the question, brushing off her dress with small hands. "Come on. I'll take you to my elder sister. She'll know how to send you back home." Without waiting for a reply, the girl started walking.

"W-wait a second!" Varin jogged after her, trying to keep up. "At least tell me your name! I don't think you told me last time, did you?"

The girl glanced back briefly, her expression unreadable. "Maria," she said simply. Then she muttered something under her breath, her voice distorting into a garbled sound that Varin couldn't quite catch.

"What was that last part?" Varin asked, but Maria didn't answer.

Instead, Maria asked, "And you? What's your name?"

"Varin. Varin Thimons," she said. "That's a lovely name you've got, Maria."

Maria snickered softly, though her smile was fleeting. "Thanks. Yours is nice too."

But just as quickly, her mood shifted, her shoulders slumping as her pace slowed. Her small frame seemed weighed down by an invisible burden.

"What's wrong?" Varin asked, her voice softening. "You were crying again earlier… Is it about that thing you mentioned last time? Aspects, or something?"

Maria tensed. "…No. This time it's different," she admitted after a pause. "My sister told me before, but… I think she's lying. She said I'd have an aspect, but I haven't managed to cast a single spell. Not one! So maybe they just said it to make me feel better because I'm a failure."

Her voice cracked as she spoke, and tears welled in her dark eyes again.

"Hey, hey, no," Varin said quickly, stepping closer. "Even if that's true—though I don't think it is—maybe it just takes time! Maybe your aspect is so powerful that it hasn't fully, uh, manifested yet."

Maria glared at her, sniffling. "What would you know? You're not even a witch!"

Varin flinched at the outburst, but Maria's anger faded just as quickly as it came. "Sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean to yell."

"It's okay. I get it," Varin said, smiling weakly.

Before she could say more, Maria stopped abruptly. "We're here."

Varin looked ahead and felt her stomach drop. Looming before them was a massive sphere of pulsating darkness. It seemed alive, the surface rippling like the surface of a black lake.

Maria turned to her, her expression serious. "Wait here. My sisters don't like outsiders." Without another word, she approached the sphere, which opened like a door to swallow her whole.

But curiosity got the better of Varin. Against her better judgment, she crept closer and peeked inside.

The interior was like stepping into another world—a vast, shadowy space lit by faint, otherworldly light. Maria stood near the center, speaking to two figures.

Varin's breath caught in her throat when she recognized one of them. Ms. Eldez.

"What the—?!" Varin whispered, her heart pounding. Why was Ms. Eldez here?

Her eyes darted to the second figure. This one was unfamiliar—tall, regal, with flowing blonde hair that gleamed like spun gold. Her eyes were bright and fierce, like miniature suns that seemed to pierce right through Varin.

Varin froze as those eyes locked onto her. A wave of terror washed over her, freezing her in place. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move.

And then she woke up.

Varin shot upright, gasping for air. Her heart raced, and her forehead was damp with sweat. The earthy scent of the forest filled her nose, accompanied by the mouthwatering aroma of fresh-cooked food.

"Ha… ha… what the hell was that?" she muttered, pressing a hand to her chest. The memory of the dream was already fading, leaving only a lingering unease.

"Good morning, Varin," came Ms. Eldez's calm, lilting voice. Varin turned to see her sitting on a wooden bench—one that hadn't been there the night before—eating a plate of fresh food.

Varin's stomach growled, and before she knew it, she was on her fourth helping.

"This is amazing! I didn't know you could cook, Ms. Eldez!" Varin said between bites.

Ms. Eldez simply smiled, her dark eyes glinting in the morning light. "I'm glad you enjoy it, dear."

As Varin took another bite, she hesitated, her thoughts still tangled with the remnants of the dream. "Hey, Ms. Eldez… What do you know about witches?"

Ms. Eldez's smile didn't falter, but her eyes seemed to darken, ever so slightly. "Oh, dear… Witches have been gone for centuries. There hasn't been a true witch in over three hundred years."

Her tone was as steady as ever, but Varin couldn't shake the feeling that there was something hidden in her words. Something she couldn't quite grasp.

Ms. Eldez tilted her head, her serene expression unchanging. "Why do you ask?"

Varin hesitated. "Oh, no reason. Just… curious, I guess."

Ms. Eldez's smile widened, and she turned back to her meal. "Of course, dear. Curiosity is a fine thing."

But in her eyes, something flickered—a shadow of knowing. A secret she wasn't ready to share.