Nightmare

The first thing I noticed was the pain—sharp and all-encompassing, like something had reached inside
and twisted me apart. I tried to scream, but my voice never came. The world blurred, colors bleeding
together before everything snapped into darkness.
Then the whispers started.
“You’re worthless.”
“You’re a disappointment.”
“Why even try?”
They weren’t just whispers. They were my voice. Familiar and venomous, each word pressing down
like weights on my chest.
When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t in the courtyard anymore. I stood in the middle of a park—a memory I
hadn’t thought about in years. I must've been around ten years old at the time. The sun was too bright,
the grass too green, but the way my small hand clutched Mom’s made it real. We were out shopping,
just like we had so many times before. She looked so young, her hair tied back in a simple braid, her
warm eyes scanning the stalls as she squeezed my hand reassuringly.
And then he appeared.
A man—tall, rough, with anger radiating off him like heat. He bumped into Mom, hard enough to make
her stumble. She apologized immediately, bowing her head, but he wasn’t having it. “Watch where
you’re going,” he snarled, stepping closer.
My small body froze as his voice rose. Mom’s grip tightened on my hand, but she didn’t look at me.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, her voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Didn’t mean to? You’re in my way!” he spat, his anger growing louder, harsher.
My legs wouldn’t move. I wanted to pull Mom away, to tell him to leave her alone, but my voice was
gone, locked behind the lump in my throat. I was helpless, standing there like a stone while Mom’s
shoulders shrank under the weight of his shouting.
Frustration boiled inside me. My hands clenched, and the air grew hotter. Crimson light flickered at the
edges of my vision, a warning of something building beyond my control, teetering on the edge of
eruption. With a sharp cry, I threw my hands out, palms forward, and the energy surged from within me,
spiraling outward in a wild, violent torrent. The blast engulfed the man in a storm of crimson fire, tendrils
of maroon light tearing through him, piece by piece, until nothing remained but ash.
Time slowed. My breathing came in ragged gasps as I turned to Mom. Her wide eyes weren’t filled with
relief or gratitude—they were wide with fear, stark and paralyzing. She took a step back, her hand
hovering uncertainly as if deciding whether to reach for me or run. That hesitation struck deeper than
any words could.
“Mom, I—” My voice cracked.
Before I could reach her, Dad appeared. He grabbed her arm, pulling her behind him. His face was
cold, his eyes heavy with disappointment as he looked down at me. Without a word, he turned and led
her away.
“Wait! Don’t go!” I shouted, my voice cracking as tears spilled down my cheeks. “Please, I’m sorry!” I
reached out desperately, my arms trembling, but my legs wouldn’t move. My voice echoed into the void
as they disappeared, leaving me sobbing and alone.
The park dissolved into shadows. I was falling, the whispers louder now.
“Look at what you did.”
“You’re a monster.”
When I landed, I was back on stage. The piano recital. This moment was the root of my anxiety, a
memory that had clawed at me ever since. My hands hovered over the keys, trembling as the opening
notes of Autumn Leaves floated into the air. I’d played this a hundred times before, but the crowd felt
too close, their eyes boring into me. Every note felt heavier, slower, like I was dragging myself through
quicksand.
A single wrong note shattered the illusion. My chest tightened, and my breathing quickened as the
room started to blur. The audience shifted, their faces twisting into grotesque masks of judgment. Go
away.
Whispers erupted into laughter, growing louder and louder until it felt like the air was crushing me. My
chest tightened, and my breathing grew shallow and erratic. I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—the
panic clawed at me, dragging me deeper into its grip.
Go away.
I tried to heal myself. Green magic sparked weakly at my fingertips before fizzling out. My pulse raced
faster. Why wasn’t it working? Why couldn’t I calm down? The laughter of the audience rose like a
crashing wave, each sound sharper and louder, pounding relentlessly in my ears until it became
unbearable.
"Go away!" I screamed, slamming my hands onto the piano keys. Sound exploded out of the
instrument—a harsh, dissonant crash that seemed to split the air. My breath hitched as I felt something
stir, deep inside me, and before I could stop it, a pulse of crimson energy surged from the piano. It
rippled outward, swallowing the audience in a wave of light that blinded me for a moment.
When I opened my eyes, the laughter was gone. So were the people. The auditorium was silent and
barren, except for the piano, me, and the rows of seats which were now filled with pools of blood. My
hands trembled on the keys, the last notes still ringing in my ears like a distant scream. I sat frozen at
the piano, my reflection in the glossy keys staring back. It wasn’t me—not really. Crimson eyes glared
from the reflection, and a cruel smile twisted on its face.
The world fell away again, leaving only darkness.
I floated, weightless and alone. My breaths came shallow and quick as the whispers turned into a single
voice.
“You’ll give up, won’t you?”
A shape emerged in the void, stepping closer. Its body was lanky and hunched, its arms unnaturally
long. Fingers like claws scraped the darkness, and its face… its face was mine. Pale and tear-streaked,
but with crimson eyes and a smile too jagged, too wide.
It tilted its head, its voice overlapping with mine. “You'll never amount to anything because you’re too
afraid to try.”
I stumbled back, shaking my head. “No. That’s not true.”
It laughed, the sound echoing in the void. “Isn’t it? You want to fix things, go back to normal, but you’re
too weak. You don’t deserve to be happy. You don’t deserve anything. You're a waste of space.”
“Stop it!” I shouted, but my voice cracked.
A chest appeared between us, glowing crimson and wrapped in heavy chains. The shadow gestured
toward it, its broken smile widening. “This chest holds everything you hide—your fear, your failure, your
pain.”
My knees buckled as tears streamed down my face. “I… I don’t want to be afraid.”
The shadow loomed closer, its voice soft and venomous. “But you are. You always will be.”
The chains rattled, their cold, metallic grip biting into my skin as they dragged me toward the chest. The
ground scraped against me, each jagged edge tearing at my resolve. My knees scraped against the
unforgiving ground, searing pain coursing through me. The chains finally slackened, leaving me
sprawled on the ground. For a moment, I just lay there, gasping for air, my body broken. Gritting my
teeth, I planted my hands against the floor and pushed myself up, legs shaking but determined to
stand. “Not this time,” I whispered.
The shadow’s smile faltered. “What did you say?”
I stepped forward, my legs shaking but steady. “You don’t get to decide anymore.”
The shadow screeched, its clawed hands snapping toward me, searing my skin as they clawed and
dragged me closer. But I didn’t stop. I reached for the chest, crimson sparks igniting around me.
“Stay away,” the shadow hissed, its voice desperate.
With my jaw clenched tightly, I gripped the lock on the chest. The chains burned hotter, but I didn’t let
go. “No. You’re not stronger than me.”
The shadow shrieked as light burst from my hand, shattering the chains. Crimson energy surged
around me, filling the void with warmth and power. The shadow writhed, its form twisting and breaking
apart as it screamed.
“This isn’t over,” it spat before dissolving into nothingness.
The light faded, leaving me alone. But this time, the silence wasn’t heavy. It was calm.
I turned back to the chest, its glow softer now, inviting. Slowly, I opened the lid, half expecting another
wave of chains or darkness. Instead, there was a small orb, faintly pulsing with green and crimson light,
resting on a cushion of black velvet. It hummed softly, a sound like a heartbeat, steady and rhythmic.
I reached for it hesitantly. As soon as I touched it, warmth flooded through me, sinking into my very
core. It felt alive, resonating with a gentle hum that calmed my frayed nerves while sparking a flicker of
untapped potential deep within.
The shadow’s voice lingered faintly in the back of my mind. “You think this will help you? It’ll only make
things worse.”
I ignored it, focusing on the pulse of the orb. Its glow promised something powerful, something waiting
to awaken. As I held it closer, the green light grew brighter, overtaking the crimson. Images flashed in
my mind—a stream of mana flowing through my veins, endlessly renewing itself, weaving into the
rhythm of my breath. I felt it anchor itself deep inside me, a reservoir of energy I could tap into.
I stared at the orb, its green light steady and unwavering. It felt like a key, something I didn’t fully
understand but could learn to use. Maybe it could help me heal—not just the surface wounds, but
something deeper. The thought wasn’t certainty, just a quiet, hopeful possibility.
I exhaled slowly and looked up. “I’ll show you. I’m not afraid anymore.”
The void around me began to dissolve, the shadows melting away into light. The orb in my hand grew
fainter until it became one with the pulse inside me. I felt whole, like I had unlocked something I’d been
missing for a long time.
Slowly, I became aware of light piercing through the darkness. It started faint and distant, a small
pinprick that grew brighter with each step I took toward it. The whispers faded, replaced by a steady
rhythm in my chest, like the pulse of the orb still echoing within me. When I reached the light, it engulfed
me, warm and steady, and I found myself in the courtyard lying on the ground.
Mao, Kuro, and Rex stood over me, their faces illuminated by the soft glow lingering around my body.
My eyes fluttered open slowly, the world coming into focus as the rhythm of my mana pulsed within
me—steady and constant, unlike anything I had felt before. I pushed myself up, my legs shaky but
stable, and whispered, “I feel… different.”
As I stood, Kuro conjured a greatsword in a flash of silver light, its edges crackling with dark energy.
“It’s too soon,” Mao said sharply, her voice edged with worry.
Kuro didn’t hesitate. He swung the blade, the air hissing as it cut toward me. I yelped and flinched back,
but the edge only grazed my arm, leaving a bloodied gash. Pain flared for a brief moment before fading
as the wound began to close on its own. I stared, wide-eyed, as my skin stitched itself together without
any effort from me.
“See?” Kuro said, glancing at Mao with a satisfied smirk. “Told you.”
“What the hell is going on?” I demanded as I touched the newly healed skin.
Mao exhaled deeply. “The spell I cast forced you into a confrontation with your mana. It’s a dangerous
process, one that risks failure with dire consequences.”
What consequences?
"But you did well! And just so you know, it was Kuro who insisted we try it.”
Kuro scoffed.
Rex folded his arms. “It seems your connection to your mana has been unlocked.””
I stared at him, my mind reeling. “Unlocked? What does that even mean?”
Before Rex could answer, Kuro stepped forward, clapping his hands together. “Training starts
tomorrow, kid. Get some rest.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode out of the room.
Mao grinned and patted me on the shoulder. “Congrats. You’re one of us now! How about a bath to
celebrate?”
Rex's eyes narrowed. “That's enough Mao.”
Mao laughed, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. Next time.”
Rex shook his head and turned to me. “A maid will escort you back to your room. I'll see you tomorrow.”
On cue, a maid stepped forward, bowing politely. I nodded, my legs still unsteady, and let her guide me
out. As we walked, the steady pulse of mana inside me felt like a quiet promise of something new,
something I could learn to control.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t afraid of what came next.