"How is she?"
"No good, her fever didn't go down at all after everything i did."
"I'll call an expertise, i don't think this is a normal cold anymore.."
".....Oh, Kara. What happened to you, darling?"
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In a cold, empty subconscious space. The sound of water are a strange clarity.
'It feels so hot.. it burns..'
Breathing was a struggle, feeling as though she was sinking at the bottom of the ocean.
'Cold.. too cold..'
A desperate gasp for air that felt like pulling a heavy weight. Her head spinning, the helplessness was maddening.
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"Is this what you want?"
Time stand still. The voice echoed, disembodied, yet familiar.
It resonated not in her ears, but deep within her very being, a tremor in her soul.
"You won't survive inside this body if you stay this fragile."
She couldn't answer. Her consciousness was fractured, splintering into a thousand pieces, each a shard of memory, a flicker of sensation, a fragment of fear.
"Show me.."
...
"Those strong emotion again."
Kara didn't fight back, instead letting herself be swallowed into the darkness. Her mind went blank, calming the wave inside her.
A seed plant in her soul, dormant but alive. She felt herself dissolving, as a strange light pulsing into nothingness.
They emerge from the ground with flower stalks in late summer and early fall, followed by the appearance of strap-like leaves that persist through winter.
And then... She vanished.
The servant's startled yelp pierced the air. Urgent, panicked footsteps echoed in the room.
"What's wrong?!"
"T-The young miss.. Madam—"
Glory half-run to Kara's side, her eyes widen as she found herself staring at the empty bed.
In her daughter's place bloomed a cluster of crimson petals, replacing her sudden disappearance.
Soon, a sudden realisation sparked her eyes, "...Call Davel, now please."
The attendant obliged without question.
Glory walk around the room, searching a presence, a trace of her child. Her face concentrate, but there's a hint of concern.
"Darling? It's okay now, baby. You can come out." She voice out gently, finding a clue of her whereabouts.
Kara couldn't respond, she couldn't move. But she heard everything, her mother's soothing words, her worried breathing, and the troubled beating of her chest.
Her vision blurred, her mind a swirling vortex of confusion. She felt as though she were in a different room, a place unfamiliar.
Kara longed to return.
Then, she felt the wind rush past from below. Her body was no longer on the bed.
She was falling...
"Madam Glory!" Just as she braced for impact, her mother's embrace enveloped her.
She never saw how her mother reached her, the bed was far away. Did she teleport? Or was Kara already within her reach? She couldn't tell.
"It's alright, Kara," her mother whispered, her voice soothing. Her cool, gentle hand caressed Kara's cheek. A cooling, soft glow filled her senses, lulling her into a deep sleep. "Rest well and feel better, Mama will be right here."
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.
.
A few days after her recovery, the revelation of her Arcana manifesting brought a new understanding.
The ordeal was celebrated throughout the household with a feast.
"Mm... Maybe the cold triggered its manifestation? Kara is already at the age where children normally have their Arcana," her father mused, hand on his chin.
Kara looked up at him, his large figure towered over her as they sat on the floor of her room. She nestled between his legs, playing with her Slate.
"Or her Arcana caused her cold. Either way, I'm just glad it wasn't serious," her mother sighed, hand resting on her cheek.
"It's just strange... I never got ill when my Arcana manifested. It just sort of happened, you know?" her father said, gently squeezing Kara's face.
Her mother smiled. "Let's not think too deeply into it... all that matters is our child was alright."
______________
Days later, Kara sat on the windowsill of their hallway, practicing her new ability.
'Papa said to take it easy so I don't shock my Arcana and hurt myself,' she thought.
She summoned a single flower with ease, but the memory of her disappearance lingered.
"Sigh... I tried doing that again, but all I let out was just another gas," she said in dismay, staring at the single flower in her hand. The flower looked and felt real, it was almost unbelievable that it appeared out of nowhere.
"...Red Spider Lily. So this is my power in this world," she pondered, excitement bubbling in her chest. Her smile widened. "I wonder what else I can do?"
The brunette giggled, unable to contain her smile as she dance side to side. A thrill ran through her body.
"Maybe I can make a whole field!" She exclaimed, her voice filled with childlike wonder. The possibilities seemed endless, and she couldn't wait to explore them all.
"Ah..." The flower slip out of her hand, swaying around like a butterfly as the wind carry it.
Kara dismissed the lost, since she could make another one.
She turned away...
..
..Then looked back.
The brunette found herself drawn to it's movements.
For a long while, it never drop to the ground.
The flower, a tiny red stark against the vastness of the afternoon sky, seemed to possess a purpose, a destination only it knew.
'That's strange...' Her brows furrowing as she observed.
Kara abandoned her spot on the windowsill without a second thought, her feet moving as if guided by an unwavering, almost childlike trust.
It wasn't a conscious decision, it was more like a current pulling her along. Her curiosity getting to her.
She followed slowly, each steps was silent, as if treading on hallowed ground.
Her focus narrowed to the dancing petal, a crimson compass in the gentle breeze.
And seemingly aware of her pursuit, the flower drifted with a purpose, its path a winding ribbon through the familiar landscape of her home. With each passing moment, Kara's curiosity deepened.
"...Where do you want to take me?" Kara whispered into no one. She could be referring to the flower, or someone else entirely.
"...This way?" The brunette open the door as it passed through.
It was their living room, a neat and tidy spacious room. Everything was in place, the chair, table and shelves, specially the books.
Kara tilted her head, confused. It seemed like a stupid idea to believe a flower could have a mind of its own.
The lily hovered above her. 'No way... it must be me unconsciously controlling this,'
She tried reaching for it, but was too far than expected. Frustrated, she leaped repeatedly, missing each time.
"Why did I even.. follow a suspicious thing... that looks like a horror trap?!" she lost her balance, landing hard on the floor.
"Ow.."
Unbeknownst to her, the spider lily drifted toward its final destination, alighting atop the glass table near the fireplace.
Kara watched its descent, slowly rising from the floor. Curiosity bubbled in her veins like live wires as she approached.
There, centered on the polished surface, lay its crimson petal beside an ancient silver staff. The artifact stood enshrined on a wrought-iron stand, its presence dominating the table like a beacon.
Her fingertip hovered an inch from the metal. "You... called me here?"
The air hummed in response. Beneath her socks, the floorboards grew unnaturally warm—then ice-cold.
The staff's silver veins flared crimson.
A spider lily petal spread around her wrist.
Click.
Time snapped like overstretched thread.
"H-Huh-?!"
One heartbeat she stood bathed in her own Arcana, the next swallowed by anti-light.
The world turned inside out..
.
.
.
.
.
.
The inky blackness pressed against her eyelids, a gentle current carrying her through its depths.
It was frightening at first, slowly but surely, those feelings vanished. Like lulling an infant into sleep after crying for a long time.
She felt safe, cradled in a silent, velvety darkness, a sense of peace washing over her.
She open her eyes.
This place, this darkness, it's strange, its like a forgotten dream. It was as if she had always been here, waiting for this moment, for this awakening.
She blinked, becoming aware of her surroundings.
"Where am I?" Kara whispered, her voice echoing in the vast emptiness. A cool breeze stirred, oddly comforting despite the unsettling darkness.
'This feels strangely familiar. It's like being in my past bedroom again.' where she laid in bed surrounded by pitch black darkness at night, waiting for the moment where her eyelids gets heavy and falls into a peaceful slumber. 'And it's so quiet too..'
".. I've been waiting.."
Then, the void shimmered. Crimson light erupted, swirling like a celestial dance. From its heart, a figure emerged.
A girl with sunset-hued hair, cascading in twin tails.
"Whoa..." she stepped back, weary of the new presence. The girl's amber eyes met hers.
She smiled, a radiant welcome.
"Greetings, my cute little descendant!" she announced. Her voice had an almost lyrical quality. "Thou art the presence of Aethel, myself! I am Lamia, thy ancestor, and I guide thee on thy destined path."
Kara stared, taking another step back.
"Uh, hi?"
Lamia grinned, "Discomfort I sense. Fear not, descendant," tapping a finger to her cheek. "For I am a humble demon, blessed with Lunara's grace, teehee!" She winked.
"Uh.." Kara echoed, feeling a wave of second-hand embarrassment. 'Is this girl ok in the head?'
A strong urge to flee overwhelmed her, but without a proper clue of her surroundings, it would be riskier than to stay with the stranger.
"Five years have passed... thou hast grown," Lamia said, moving closer before Kara realized it.
The sudden approach surprised her. "I expected more of Davel's likeness, but Glory's genes prevail. Well, unimportant..." Lamia flicked a finger, creating distance. "To business, yes?"
"Fate's decree: thy awakening marks our union," Lamia said, her tone shifting to a weighty seriousness. "Thy task to repay my boon... now commences." She extended her hand toward the brunette.
Kara stared at her, confused and uneasy as she caught a glimpse of Lamia's face. Something felt wrong, like missing pieces of a puzzle.
For a moment, Lamia's eyes become dulled. Her voice lost its playful lilt, becoming monotone. It felt like a different person entirely.
A jolt of pain shot through Kara's forehead, causing her to lose her balance and stumble back.
"Gha..! What was that for?!"
"Hark, child," Lamia smirked, her eyes dark and commanding. "Did my touch prove too forceful? Memory I must refresh."
Kara sat up, rubbing her forehead. "What does that mean?! You think I have some sort of amnesia? I've never met you before..." She paused, then instantly recognized Lamia. "Huh... I have met thee..."
At first, Lamia had felt like a stranger. But the second Kara laid eyes on her again, fragmented memories flooded her mind, pieces that had been hidden for a long time.
A shadowy figure, whispering... awakening her after death...
"My greatest desire is... to be reborn," Kara whispered, the words both foreign and familiar.
Lamia's eyes narrowed, amusement dancing in their depths. "Indeed. I stirred thy slumbering recollection. Thy memory veiled after I entwined thy soul with those nascent children. A consequence of thy reincarnation, a prudent measure."
Kara's brows furrowed, cautious of her.
Lamia hovered, her form glowing. Her expression turned solemn. Her voice resonated with weight.
"Centuries I have existed, before this era's form. I witnessed civilizations rise and fall, and the evolution of magic---the Arcana, that you humans call your own."
"Familiar art thou with the Ancient War?"
Kara nodded. "Yes, when Mom... uh... when Glory sometimes tells stories about it... I couldn't quite get it, i thought that was just a fairytale meant for kids?"
"Yes... The conflict that shattered peace between the world and the four tribes."
"I... I don't get it. What do you want me to do—Ack?!" Lamia flicked her again.
"How rude," Lamia hissed. "Patience, child! Let me finish!"
"..Sorry."
Lamia sighed. "The Demon tribe, driven by wrath, sought dominance. Chaos they unleashed upon the Ascendant. Heroes arose—a mysterious party that shackled the Demon tribe's fear. Their power undeniable..."
"Together, they fought. The Demon Lord fell at the hands of the greatest among them. His defeat was known, and the demons vanished. While I remained bound to this realm, trapped."
A shiver ran through Kara's spine. 'A Demon... sealed away... here?' She glanced at Lamia. A tail, horns... one broken. 'Now that I take a good look at her... She really looks like a Demon.'
Kara pinched the bridge of her nose, unease settled in her stomach. Questions raced in her mind, but asking them all would only raise more questions.
"And this place? What is it?" Kara uttered in a low voice, as if her energy was being drained.
"This is the realm of Crimson Valley.." Lamia's gaze softened. "A dimension reflects thy soul, descendant. Born from thy deepest feelings. When thou arrived, it was pitch black.. a void mirroring its lack of host."
"But now... it's all white... empty," Lamia said, her brows furrowing in confusion. "Strange... Does it mean Purity? If so, it shouldn't feel this cold. It should be a warm, blue sky... or ocean." She glanced at Kara thoughtfully.
"...Is that a bad thing?" Kara started to grow nervous, feeling as if she'd been exposed without her knowledge.
Lamia stared her down, arms crossed. Her dark eyes pierced Kara, examining her very being.
"Aspiration hast thou, descendant? A goal, perhaps?"
Kara stared blankly, "...No," she utter without thinking.
"Pardon?"
"Ah... W-Well, I used to have a dream. B-But I gave up on it a long time ago." Kara looked down at her socks, suddenly finding the pattern very interesting.
"Why?" Lamia's voice softened, sounding almost human.
She shrugged, "I ask myself the same question too." Kara smile felt stiff, like a mask glued to her face.
Her thumb kept picking at her fingernail, a bad habit Mom always scolded her about.
"Pry tell, I am listening."
The brunette hesitated, arms wrapping around herself like a shield. Lamia's shadow on the white floor looked strangely sharp, like claws instead of hands.
Fingertips brushed her shoulder.
Cold. Metallic.
Kara flinched, but there was no pain, just a single red petal placed in her palm. It smelled like... like her old art box. Like pencil shavings and the vanilla-scented markers she'd saved allowance money to buy.
"Stories take many forms," Lamia murmured behind her. The petal dissolved into ash that swirled into floating canvases. "It's easier to speak through their tongue."
The strange space around them changed like water splashing. Lamia moved her hand, creating floating paintings that were half finished and torn sketchbooks frozen mid-fall.
"Once there was a girl," Kara began, watching a ghostly pencil drew in mid-air as she spoke. "Her hands could make worlds bloom on paper. People would crowd around her desk, breathless as dragons took shape from chalk dust."
Lamia studied the floating art. "A special talent."
"Then came the day someone said, 'Arts is nothing more than just a hobby, why not focus on something that can be a job for the future?'.." Kara's voice flattened, her eyes almost empty. "Friends who once begged for portraits started rolling eyes at her sketchbooks. Parents praised practicality over 'childish scribbles.'"
The drawings began dissolving at the edges. A floating castle crumbled into ashes.
"It hurts when they denied what she loved." Kara reached toward the vanishing stardust, her reflection in the broken paintings looked shattered. "Then one day... she forgot how to hold the pencil. The lines wouldn't connect. Colors looked dirty."
"Her motivation slowly reaching it's end.."
..
"..Until none of it was left.."
The void shuddered, white emptiness bleeding gray. Lamia's form blurred at the edges, twin tails becoming ink smudges, amber eyes burning like forge embers.
Kara sighed deeply, as if everything was laid out all at once. She felt a bit relieved, but also self-conscious. "Well.. it doesn't matter anyway. My passion for art died a long time ago, i'm practically over it."
The brunette's finger circle into nothingness.
Lamia's eyes held Kara's with a strange understanding.
The silence stretched between them.
"Thou liest to thyself." Her voice sounded strange, like gaining echo harmonics. "The sting remains, fresh as new blood. I taste it in thy soul's tremor."
Kara's shoulders slumped, her face twisting at the demon's words. "Why keep digging up the past? That girl died long ago." She whirled toward the crimson-haired temptress, voice fraying like torn silk. "Enough games! What do you want from me?"
Lamia's fingers snapped like a viper's strike, making the brunette flinch.
"Strange human.."
The demon trailed a claw along her own jawline.
"The girl who sees beauty in death flowers... denies herself to grow again."
Kara stared at the entity infront of her, feeling the pressure that left to be unseen.
She felt breathless.
"Then, why not find thy aspiration once more?"
"..Huh?"
"Thou art reincarnated! A new life, a fresh start, and many paths lie ahead. Find thy calling!" Lamia's said with confident grinned. "I told thee, my descendant. I will guide you. Releasing the seal is not easy, I'll be with you every step of the way. And while we work, thou canst find what thou seekest."
Kara was caught off guard, feeling as though everything was moving too fast.
"Lost art thou? I can wait, there is no rush." Lamia said it like it's the most easiest thing. "Focus on thy current feelings first."
"What... do you mean?"
"Thy uncertainties," Lamia said, surprising Kara. "About thy parents, and thyself, since thy rebirth. Start there..."
And then, the world dissolved.
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Kara woke up, gasping for breath, her heart pounding in her chest. The familiar scent of her own room, the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through the window, grounded her back in reality.
She heard a knock and turned toward the door. It was slightly ajar, and her father's head peeked in, his expression soft and concerned.
"Papa?" she croaked, her voice hoarse.
"I brought you some water," he said, holding out a glass. "I figured you're thirsty after that long nap."
"Thanks," she mumbled, taking the glass. "How... did I get here?"
"We found you in the living room, asleep on the sofa," he explained, sitting on her bed. "Your mother didn't want you to catch a cold again, so I carried you here."
She hummed in response, taking a long, thirsty gulp of water. It felt like she'd been parched for days.
'That's strange,' she thought, a shiver running down her spine. 'It's like I was talking in my sleep, my throat feels too dry.'
"So, did Ancestor Lamia give you a hard time?" her father asked.
Her eyes widened. He knew about Lamia? A wave of confusion and panic washed over her. Lamia knew about her parents, but she'd never mentioned they knew about her.
'That woman... why did she leave out that information?!'
She sighed, feeling exhausted even though she'd just woken up. "She's... something,"
Davel laughed, a warm and genuine sound. "She is, something. An odd person indeed. Her behavior changes so instantly. It's like she doesn't have a real personality."
"However, you'll get used to her," he said, his eyes smiling. "She may not look like it, but she's the wisest person I know."
"Did Papa know the ancestor for a long time?" she asked, curious.
"Yes, since I was little," he said with a grin. "She taught me a lot. Like a mentor, and to all of our family that came before us."
"So she's been bothering people for that long?" The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Her father's laughter echoed in the room. He covered his mouth with his hand, shaking his head. "Shh," he whispered. "Don't let her hear you say that. She'll be mad." He stood up, turning to her with a smile. "How about this? You can ask me anything you're confused about over dinner. Your mama is cooking a delicious meal."
She watched him turn to leave, and at that moment, a cold dread washed over her. Lamia's words hung heavy, this feeling she had to sort out.
'The moment I was reborn in this life, I already decided I'll keep this secret to my grave...'
But the crushing weight of her deception was almost too much to bear.
The truth, she wasn't their real daughter.
She was someone who'd taken over.
Their love, their nurturing... it was all built on a foundation of lies she'd kept quiet. What if they discovered it? The thought paralyzed her, a terrifying fact she dared not approach.
"...Papa?" she called out, her voice trembling.
"Yes, Kara?" he turned back, eyeing her with concern.
A lump formed in her throat. The thought of speaking felt agonizing. She'd never been able to talked openly before.
"What will you do if... I'm not the same person anymore?" her voice was barely audible, but she knew he heard her.
She was scared. But she had to persevere.
The few seconds of silence were deafening. The words she'd spoken felt like a vase she regretted tossing. Her heart was thrumming so fast that the air she inhaled wasn't enough to calm her nerves.
She gripped the fabric of her clothes.
'Maybe this was a mistake,' she thought, the words a bitter taste on her tongue. 'He'll just shrug it off, dismiss it, and won't listen to me...'
But... no.. thats not it..
Her parents were different, in this world, that is. Kara knew they were the type of people who would never put unbearable pressure on their child. They were kind, supportive, and understanding.
Glory was the gentlest mother she'd ever known. Davel was a role model, someone strong and passionate.
So why was she thinking like this?
"I... I had this dream," she began, her voice a mere whisper. "Where I'm someone else, a stranger who came into your lives."
Davel's expression softened, his eyes filled with gentle concern that both comforted and terrified her. "What happened in the dream, sweetie?"
"I-It's like I've come from another life," she continued, her voice catching in her throat. "A completely different person from who I am now. Someone... else."
Her fingers dug into her arm, the pressure a desperate attempt to stop her shaking hands. Fear threatened to overwhelm her.
"I feel... lost," she admitted, tears welling up. "What if I'm just someone... playing the part of your daughter? What... would you do... Dad?"
Each word was a struggle. She heard his footsteps approach, slow and steady.
'Would you hate me then?'
"I would love you all the same."
She was taken aback. His simple words surprised her.
"Huh?" she whispered, blinking away her tears. Confusion warred with fear. "What do you mean?"
He kneeled down and placed his hand on her head, his touch gentle and strong.
"Listen, Kara," he said in whispers. "No matter who you are, where you've been, what you become... you are still my little girl."
He looked at her, his eyes steady and reassuring. A small smile touched his lips. "I still don't understand the 'playing a part' thing, but I won't press you." he said softly. "Just know this... Even if, by some twist of fate, we weren't related by blood..."
"The fact that you came into our lives means you're our daughter. And that will never change."
Tears flowed down her cheeks, a release of the heavy burden she'd carried.
'That's... right...'
His words were clear, yet they held a power that calmed the storm inside her.
'It was so simple...'
A fragile hope, a tentative belief, began to bloom amidst the lingering fear.
She began to sob.
"Papa... I love you, and Mama... so much..." she whispered, voice trembling as tears spilled over. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, seeking some anchor amid her swirling fears and warmth that finally felt real.
He watched her with tenderness in his eyes. "Me too, baby... your Mama as well..."
She smiled and leapt into his arms. They stayed in silence for a time, his presence offering comfort.
"Are you hungry, Kara?" he asked.
She nodded, never leaving his side.
His face lit up. "Let's go meet Mama then."
They left the room in silence, Davel carrying her in his arms. Each steps was slow and steady, making her feel calm and secured.
As her father open the door to another room. She heard the sound of plate being place, the appetizing aroma greeted them as they entered the kitchen.
She looked up, seeing her mother's smiling face.
"My, aren't you both getting along?"
Davel grinned, "Does this mean I've been promoted to favorite parent?"
"Over my undead body," Glory retorted, mock-scowling as she wipes her hands on a towel. She winked at Kara."Tell Papa he's dreaming, sweet pea."
Davel laughed softly and set the brunette down. The little girl ran straight to her mother, wrapping both arms around Glory's legs, her face bury on the woman's apron.
"Goodness gracious, Kara? What's wrong, darling?"
Davel walked over and kissed his wife's temple. "Seems i've been outranked."
Kara watched her parents muttering to each other, peaceful smile painting their faces.
A warm sensation blossom in her heart.
This felt right, she wanted to hold onto this moment.
Though the shadows might return, she knew her parents would always be her unwavering support.