Lottie

Gentle vibrations rippled through the mattress, nudging me awake. My eyelids fluttered open as I
groggily registered the sound. Blinking, I glanced around, my thoughts sluggish, trying to piece together
the fragments of yesterday. I groaned, curling deeper into the blankets, trying to hold onto the dream I
couldn’t quite remember. Yesterday had been… what even was yesterday? My head was still buzzing.
My arms curled around what I thought was the softest pillow I’d ever owned. It was warm, slightly
squishy, and radiated an odd comfort that lulled me deeper into the blankets. I nuzzled into it, burying
my face deeper and letting out a contented sigh. Its squishiness molded perfectly under my cheek, and
I shifted slightly, hugging it closer. Warmth radiated from it like the perfect heated blanket, and for a
moment, I was utterly at peace. But then… it moved.
Groggily, I blinked my eyes open, my cheek still pressed against the “pillow.” As my vision adjusted, I
realized I was cuddled up to something… alive. My heart stuttered as I registered the violet axolotl the
size of a dog, its frilly head fins twitching slightly as it dozed. Its round, squishy body rose and fell with
slow breaths, completely oblivious to my growing panic.
I screamed.
The axolotl’s eyes shot open, and it screamed back—a high-pitched, warbling noise that sent shivers
down my spine.
“What the heck?!” I scrambled backward, nearly falling off the bed.
The creature hopped off the mattress, its stubby legs flailing as it landed with an audible thump. It let
out another scream, clearly startled by my reaction. We stared at each other in wide-eyed panic, caught
in a bizarre scream-off.
“What are you?!” I blurted out, my voice trembling. The axolotl cocked its head, its tiny mouth twitching
as if trying to form words.
In an instant, the creature’s body shimmered, its form twisting and reshaping like liquid. I blinked, and
standing before me was a little girl. She had violet hair that matched the axolotl’s vibrant hue, her head
still adorned with frilly axolotl-like fins. An aquatic tail swished behind her, and freckles dusted her pale
cheeks. She wore an oversized sweater dress that added to her innocent charm.
“I’m so sorry!” she wailed, her voice cracking as tears welled in her wide eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare
you! I… I sleepwalk sometimes, and… and… oh no!”
I froze. "You… you’re not going to eat me, right?"
“What? No!” she sniffled, her hands flailing. “I’m Lottie! I just… um, I just get lost sometimes when I’m
sleeping…” Her lip quivered, and she looked like she was about to burst into tears.
My initial panic ebbed away. She seemed genuinely distressed, and I couldn't stay upset. I reached out
awkwardly, patting her head. “Hey, it’s okay. I was just surprised, that’s all.”
Her watery eyes blinked up at me. “R-really?”
I nodded, offering a small smile. “Really. No harm done.”
The door burst open, and in stormed Mao and Anabella, both fuming. Mao brandished a pair of wooden
legs from a chair , while Anabella’s glowing claws and flashing fangs completed the absurd spectacle.
“What’s going on? Is someone messing with my Ari?!” Anabella growled, scanning the room.
“Where's the intruder?!” Mao added, gripping table legs like improvised swords.
Lottie let out a startled squeak, hiding behind me and clutching at the hem of my tunic. "Wait! I didn’t
mean to—don’t hurt me!" she stammered, her wide eyes darting between Mao and Anabella. "I-I
sleepwalk sometimes!"
Mao lowered her weapons, glaring at the little girl. “You? You’re causing all this ruckus?”
Anabella sighed in relief. “So you’ve met Lottie.”
“I thought she was a monster trying to eat me! And Mao, what are those for?"
Mao huffed, crossing her arms. "It’s called improvisation!"
That poor chair. Rest in piece.
Anabella began, “So, what’s up with this new power of yours, Aria? We should talk about it—maybe
while relaxing in a bath?”
“Bath?!” Mao snapped, her face reddening. “Aria’s going to bathe with me, thank you very much!”
“Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure she’d pick you?”
The two women squared off, the air around them crackling with tension. Lottie peeked out from behind
me, tugging at my skirt, “Pssst, Miss Aria, don’t do it—it’s a trap.”
Anabella’s bodyguard, Yuki, appeared in the doorway. Without a word, she grabbed both Mao and
Anabella by the collars of their shirts and began dragging them out of the room.
Yuki stopped and murmured, “No. She’s bathing with me.” Her flat tone left me blinking in silence as
she followed the others.
Lottie tugged at my sleeve, her face still worried. “Are you mad at me?”
“No, Lottie. Just try to give me a little warning next time, okay?”
“Okay! Oh, by the way, you’re training today, right? I can take you to Mr. Rex!”
“Rex?” I repeated, my stomach twisting at the thought of training.
I glanced at Lottie, her cheerful energy a stark contrast to the dread settling in my chest. My thoughts
swirled as I imagined what kind of "training" Rex had in store. Was it going to me getting relentlessly
beaten down? Running until I dropped? Worse?"
I grabbed at my chest intending to heal it, but froze when I realized I was already under the euphoric
effect. A quick scan of myself confirmed it—my magic was already working, the faint glow I hadn’t
noticed before doing its job. I really need to figure this out. The constant hum of healing felt almost
unnerving, like an engine I didn’t know how to turn off.
Lottie grabbed my hand and started pulling me toward the courtyard. After a short walk through the
winding castle corridors, the expansive courtyard came into view.
It was eerily quiet, with only faint whispers of wind brushing through the grass. Rex stood in the center,
his massive axe resting casually on one shoulder.
I hesitated at the edge of the courtyard, my heart hammering. Lottie nudged me forward with a playful
grin. “You’ll be fine,” she whispered, giving me a thumbs-up before scampering off, leaving me alone.
Rex’s sharp gaze landed on me, and his frown deepened. “You’re late.”
“S-Sorry,” I stammered, forcing myself to step forward. My legs felt like they were weighed down by
lead.
He raised an eyebrow, gesturing for me to come closer. “Whatever. Let’s hurry up and get started.” He
held out the edge of his axe. "Prick your finger on it," he said, his voice gruff and unyielding.
“What? Why?” I blurted out, my voice trembling.
“Just do it,” he said gruffly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Swallowing hard, I reached out and pricked my finger on the blade. A sharp sting shot through my
hand, and a bead of blood welled up before the wound closed almost instantly.
Rex nodded, satisfied. “As I thought. Your mana flows as a regenerative aura. Convenient.”
I stared at my finger confused. “Convenient?”
“Means you won’t tire as easily. I assume your muscles are healing themselves right now. So, we can
double—no, triple—the excersize.”
“Triple?!” My stomach dropped. My mind flashed back to gym class before I quit school. I’d always
dreaded those grueling laps around the track, the burning in my lungs, the stitch in my side. I’d
collapsed halfway through the mile run once, and the humiliation still lingered. I hated running. I hated
exercise. The thought of trying now, with Rex’s unyielding gaze fixed on me, felt like an insurmountable
wall.
Rex’s eyes scanned me from head to toe, his expression unreadable. Finally, he muttered, “Not exactly
what I’d call combat-ready.” He sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Damn Kuro for roping me into this.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “Whatever. Let’s start simple. Run a hundred laps around the
courtyard.”
“A hundred laps?” I gawked at the sheer size of the space. Each lap had to be at least 400 meters! The
thought of running it a hundred times twisted my insides into knots.
“Wait!” I blurted, desperate. “I’m a healer. Why do I need to train like this?”
Rex’s axe moved before I could blink, slicing through the air with a deafening roar. A powerful gust of
wind slammed into me, knocking me off my feet. I hit the ground with a startled "Eep!" my heart
pounding as I stared up at him.
“In a fight, you’d already be dead,” Rex growled, his expression as hard as stone. “Even a healer needs
to survive long enough to do their job. You think enemies are gonna sit around and wait while you chant
spells?”
I scrambled to my feet, my legs trembling. “I-I get it,” I stammered, brushing the dust off my clothes.
“But this feels… extreme.”
He snorted. “This isn’t even the hard part. Your Awakening boosted your mana, but it’s useless if you
don’t know how to use it.”
“I still don't know what any of that means!” I yelled.
“All right,” he said, folding his arms. “Let’s get this over with. Since you're not training with Mao until
tomorrow, I'll try and explain it to ya.”
I waited, half-expecting more enthusiasm. It didn’t come.
He rubbed his temple. “Your mana’s in overdrive because you awakened or whatever. Means you get a
power boost, but it’s a double-edged sword. Take it from me: when I first awakened, I didn’t sleep for
three days. Not fun.”
I forced myself to nod. “So it’s normal that my healing’s going haywire?”
“‘Normal’ is pushing it,” he muttered. “Your body’s basically pouring mana into that healing twenty-four
seven. Sure, it’s nice to patch yourself up on the fly, but it’ll chew through your reserves. Mana’s not
infinite.”
A prickle of worry ran down my spine. “So I could just... run out?”
He flicked a hand in the air, dismissive. “Like a candle. If you burn it too bright, too fast, there’s nothing
left but wax. And you definitely don’t want to go empty when you need it most.”
I swallowed. “How do I keep that from happening?”
“By getting stronger,” he said flatly. “Mao can handle all the magic stuff later. For now, we train.”
I clasped my hands together and tilted my head in what I hoped was an adorable pose—though my
cheeks were flaming enough to light a small village. “U-um, maybe we could, y’know… skip all that? I-I
can just train after lunch! Way better, right?” My voice cracked at the end, and I was pretty sure I’d
never blushed so hard in my life.
He stared at me, unamused. "No. Now run."
With a groan, I started forward, my legs already aching with each step. After just two laps, sweat clung
to my skin. Normally, by this point in a run, I’d be gasping and fighting for my life. But there was a new
sensation fluttering through me—tiny sparks of warmth, like sunlight on my muscles, slowly erasing
every throb of pain. Even though my feet kept going, my lungs never reached that dreaded point of
near-collapse. It felt almost…easy. My body was healing faster than it could tire.
I couldn’t help but test it. Every few strides I’d increase my speed a little, waiting for the familiar burn in
my calves to flare up. But each time the sting surfaced, it vanished almost instantly, like it’d been
swallowed by that strange warmth. My breathing never spiked; my heartbeat pounded steady and
strong. All of this without me lifting a finger to help—my newfound ability was doing the job on its own.
A tiny spark of hope ignited in my chest. For once, I wasn’t dreading the final stretch of the run. Instead,
for the first time in ages, I felt like I just might have a chance to succeed.
Kuro
The room was dimly lit, shadows flickering across stone walls that carried the lingering scents of stale
wine and dampness. Kuro lounged in an oversized chair, one leg dangling over an armrest while a flask
twirled idly from his fingertips. The place had clearly seen better days, but for now, it was his—and that
was enough.
A soft shuffle of footsteps caught his ear. Without bothering to look up, he grumbled, “Took you long
enough, Doc. Figured I’d dry out before you made it.”
A bunny-eared maid stepped inside, followed by a woman in a doctor’s coat. Her drooping puppy ears
framed eyes that were kind yet bone-weary. In her hands, she carried a large vial brimming with a
luminous green slime, the eerie glow reflecting in her tired gaze.
“Kuro,” the doctor said. “Hard to believe you’d come back here after getting kicked out.”
He snorted, tipping his flask to his lips. “That old man’s ego was big enough to trip over. Someone had
to do the honors.”
She let out a heavy sigh. “That ‘old man’ was the king you nearly toppled. As if wrecking half the castle
wasn’t bad enough.” She held up a vial. “Here. I’ve spent weeks perfecting this stuff—it should help
your wounds.”
Kuro’s eyebrow arched, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk. “Aw, Doc, you shouldn’t have,” he
drawled with mock sentiment.
Before another jibe could leave his mouth, her hand slapped against his chest, a faint glow flaring at
her palm. The force knocked him back, and he grunted as he scrambled upright. “Ever heard of gentle
bedside manner?” he complained, wincing as she drew nearer.
“Shirt off,” the doctor ordered, her voice calm but unyielding.
He blinked, smirk deepening. “Didn’t think you were into an audience. Not that I mind—”
“Now,” she cut in, her tone brooking no argument.
“Yeah, yeah.” Rolling his eyes, Kuro raised his arms in a show of surrender and peeled off his shirt.
She began applying the slime to the cuts crisscrossing his torso, the cool gel numbing his pain in slow
waves. Just when he started to relax, she jabbed a deeper gash, earning a sharp hiss from Kuro.
“Dammit, Doc.”
“Feel better?” she remarked dryly, watching him wince again.
“It’s not exactly a tickle,” he bit out, setting his jaw against the pain.
A thin smile tugged at her lips. “Give it a couple of days—these should heal just fine.” She slipped her
tools back into a worn leather pouch, patting his shoulder on her way out. “Oh, and maybe cut back on
the booze. Might help you heal faster.”
Kuro let out a harsh scoff. “So I drank myself stupid for nothing. What a hassle,” he muttered to himself
as the doctor exited, the bunny-eared maid trailing behind.
The door groaned shut, and Kuro sank deeper into his chair, staring up at the guttering lantern
overhead. “Truly a bother,” he mused, swirling the flask in one hand.
Silence wrapped around him then, broken only by the lantern’s faint hum. His attention drifted to the
glowing vial on the table, and for a fleeting moment, his grin gave way to something sharper—a steeled
resolve flickering just behind that trademark smirk.