Year 1020 D.E.

  Keshiema's knee-length metallic blue hair shimmered in the sunlight. She dangled her feet over the bridge, letting them soak in the cold water below. Today was her twentieth birthday, and she could hardly believe another year had gone by. The light breeze was a welcome relief to the sweltering summer heat. She closed her eyes and listened to the soft sounds of the forest. The birds sang cheerfully in the trees. The cattails rustled in the breeze. The creek gurgled softly. Small critters scurried across the forest floor.

  Although she was still technically on campus, no one frequented this path, and being here felt like she was truly home. She wondered if anyone in her old village would recognize her now. 'Probably not,' she thought. It had been fifteen years, and she had changed almost completely. She chose not to dwell on the thoughts, hoping to save herself from another panic attack. Instead, she listened intently to the world around her.

  The sound of crunching leaves in the distance caught her attention. Standing up, she readied herself to draw her swords. She heard their voices before she saw them. She recognized the voices immediately. A Serpent-Daemon named Marthim was conversing with Vetis, a Dryad-Daemon.

  "So then what?" Marthim asked. "I know you didn't let him get away with it."

  "I cut out his tongue and burned the wound. I couldn't let him choke on his blood too soon." The slant rhyme somehow made the act sound even worse.

  Realizing who it was, Keshiema turned to leave. But they rounded the path and spotted her. "Keshiema, you're alone." Marthim smiled at her.

  "I was just leaving." She said in a clipped tone.

  "After that night under the moon, you know for you, she'll no longer swoon." Vetis badgered Marthim

  "I don't need her to swoon. I just want a chance to explain things. Come on, Kesh, it's been almost five years."

  "Four, but who's counting?" Keshiema's hair and eyes shifted colors, turning a vibrant red. "I have somewhere to be." She huffed, trying not to let her anger out, even though it was already visible. "Maybe Azazel has time to listen to you. If you can take your tongue out of her throat long enough!"

  Keshiema sped off, running as fast as she could. She went to the cafeteria, hoping to find a cold drink to help cool her temper. It felt like not long ago seeing Marthim made her depressed, but it had been long enough since his deception that the heartbreak turned to anger. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts and returning to blue before entering the cafeteria.

  She grabbed a water and left, hoping not to see any of her more problematic classmates. Once outside the cafeteria, however, she ran into possibly the worst person she could. His name was Tommy, and he was supposed to be gone, having graduated the year before. He wore the uniform of a City Center Guard.

  "Keshiema!" he snarled, grabbing her arms. "No bodyguard today, I see!" his purple eyes were glowing with disgust.

  She kicked and screamed as he dragged her away. "Get away from me!" she shrieked. Trying to break free to reach a weapon. As a half-demon, she was weaker than him. Faculty rarely interfered in student quarrels, and death on campus was all too common. The Academy existed to create warriors, and if someone needed saving, could they even survive as a soldier?

  "Relax, it's not like I can kill you yet. I'm just gonna repay you." He was talking about the scar over his left eye.

  She continued to resist, throwing around the weight of her small body. With their size difference, it resembled a toddler having a tantrum. She threw her head back, and one of her small horns pierced his kevara armor; barely enough to draw blood, but surprising enough for him to loosen his grip.

  Keshiema broke free and drew her kodachi. Tommy complied and took out his dao. She charged, lighting on her feet. He was ready, having fought her too many times to count. She tried to get behind him, but he was just quick enough to spin around and block her. The metal sang as the swords clashed.

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  He swung his saber at her, and she managed to dodge. She attacked again. He was slower, but his reach was longer. He used her speed against her. He aimed for her center before she had time to fully change direction. The ground was painted crimson as his blade caught her side. She jumped back, panting in pain.

  "That's good enough for now, I think. Though it's a pitty you won't scar." He sheathed his dao and sauntered away in a much better mood.

  "I'd have stayed and heard out Marthim had I known Tommy was lurking about." She leaned against the building and closed her eyes. The scent of lilacs filled the air as a lavender aura formed around her hands. "Astano yi mar." She whispered, pressing her aura-covered hands against the gash in her side. The blood on her body receded into the wound before the injury sealed itself, and the scar faded away. Looking at her ruined uniform, she pouted. "At least the semester's almost over." A shiver ran through her body, leaving her cold and trembling, and she knew her Friskalian Mark had faded away.

  Returning to her dorm, she quickly showered before collapsing on her bed to rest before her friends came to celebrate her birthday. The nightmares swiftly found her.

  ***

  Fog covered the ravaged landscape. Charred oak and manzanita trees were all that remained of the once luscious forest. Keshiema sprinted through the scorched land, crying and gasping for air. The blackened earth stained her bare feet as she ran. A dark figure followed her, barely visible through the fog.

  A low-hanging branch scraped her cheek and caught itself in her long silver hair, stopping her in her tracks. The figure drew closer, calling her name in a haunting voice. She pulled on her hair, desperately trying to break free. Dark claws reached for her, viciously swiping the air as she pulled free from the dead tree.

  She continued running as fast as her legs could carry her. She began to feel slow and clumsy, tripping over the smallest obstacles. She fell forward, hitting the ground with a force that knocked the wind out of her. Her limbs felt heavy as she tried to stand. Struggling to breathe, she crawled forward as the dark figure closed in on her.

  Just before the shadow caught her, the dream took her away. She was a child, sitting in the bright laundry room of an otherwise dark house. She would have rather stayed with the dark figure.

  A loud shriek came from the other side of the house. Jumping to her feet, Keshiema ran down the hall, passing her own door. She forgot that only moments ago, she wished to sleep through the fear. When she reached the end of the hall, she took a sharp right.

  The second hallway ended at the large entryway. Her heart raced as she stood at the threshold. Darkness peered through the sliding glass door to the left. With a deep breath, she ran through the entryway to the hall leading to the master bedroom. A wooden banister separated a step-down living room from the last hallway. Enormous windows peeked out from behind powder blue curtains in the dark room.

  Another scream pierced the air as she reached the doorknob. She rushed in without catching her breath. A bright light stung her eyes, and the loud television hurt her ears. Keshiema's grandfather sat up in his bed and muted the television. The soft hum of a power crystal filled the silence. Her grandfather looked at her strangely. Between gasps of breath, she explained her presence. "I... heard... a scream."

  Although surprised by her sudden appearance, Keshiema's grandfather smiled softly. "It's just the TV. Are you okay? Why are you up?"

  Staring at the ground, Keshiema answered him in a barely audible mumble. "I couldn't sleep. Do you mind if I sleep in here tonight?"

  Her grandfather frowned, "Sorry, honey, not tonight. I'm not having an easy time sleeping, either. Just go to your own bed."

  "Uh, I," she hung her head, disappointed by his answer. "Okay."

  Slipping out of the room, Keshiema shut the door lightly. Setting her right hand on the banister, she slowly passed the step-down living room. The railing soon ended, though, and Keshiema stood at the entryway once more. Swallowing her fear, she approached the sliding glass door. Her reflection showed giant, scared hazel eyes. She hated looking at those pitiful eyes set on a chalk-white face framed in long, wavy, golden-brown hair. Smearing her sweating palm across her reflection's face, she turned left into the kitchen.

  "Water," she silently whispered as she plucked a clean cup off the counter and walked to the fridge to fill the glass with ice. A curious noise caught her attention, a soft creaking coming from the attic door above the entrance to the hallway. Setting the cup of ice on the counter, she walked into the main living room and stared at the cupboard-like door. The sound stopped as quickly as she noticed it.

  "A rat, maybe? I'll tell Papa tomorrow." Keshiema went to the thermostat hanging above the couch. Standing on the sofa, she flicked the switch, turning on the heater. Going back to her room, she stared at the almost-closed door. Leaving the laundry room light on, she entered her room. Climbing into bed, she prayed to fall asleep fast, desperately avoiding glances towards her mirrored closet doors. Turning to the wall, she squeezed her eyes shut. Something stared at her. She knew it; she felt it watching her.