Bound by Silver

All she felt was warmth—the softness of skin and a familiar smell. It smelled like a safe space, and she felt protected.

“Alishia,” a soft voice said gently.

,,I love you. I love you with all my heart.''

She had never felt more loved than she did in that moment. But just as she was about to speak, the warmth was torn away, and she was ripped back into the world.

The first thing she noticed was the smell.
Clean. Sharp. Wrong.
Nothing like the orphanage.

Her eyes fluttered open beneath the glare of white light. Somewhere close, a machine marked time with a steady beep… beep… beep—calm and unhurried, mocking the panic tightening in her chest.

Everything hurt. Her mind was still dazed, but she could feel her limbs burning and the crushing pressure on her chest.

She let out a small cry of pain and collapsed back onto the bed. Slowly, her mind began to clear, and she forced her eyes open.

Alishia looked around and realized she was in a hospital. But why? What had happened? Her memory felt like fog, stubbornly refusing to form answers.

The room was empty, and it was night, yet the harsh light overhead burned her eyes. She glanced down at herself. White hospital clothing clung uncomfortably to her, and bandages wrapped around her arms. With effort, she lifted the gown—each movement sending fresh jolts of pain through her arms and neck—and realized her legs were covered in bandages too.

She sighed, every breath heavy with exhaustion. What happened? She thought hard, but her memory was hazy. All she could recall was running through the city toward the school, where Ronja had wanted to take the money from her.

She arched in pain but gritted her teeth, clutching the bedsheet as she pushed herself up. A sharp cry escaped her lips, but she didn’t stop.

When she finally sat upright, she paused for a moment, gasping to catch her breath.

Slowly, she edged toward the wall, gripping it for support as she fought her way to the bathroom. Her hand found the doorknob, and she pushed the door open. Leaning heavily against the sink, she struggled to stay upright. Spit mixed with sweat dripped from her mouth, and every breath came in ragged gasps. Her arms and legs trembled, threatening to give out at any moment.

A strange familiarity lingered in the room, like a whisper caught between memory and dream.

She slowly lifted her head—but before she could think twice, she fell backward. Her face was pale, her expression frozen in shock. What the hell happened to me?

Trembling, she got onto her knees, afraid to look into the mirror again. But when she did, the same terrified face stared back.

Her face was wrapped in bandages, streaked with blood- she didn't even look human. It looked like she had walked straight out of a war zone—or like someone had torn her face apart.

Then it hit her. She remembered.
She remembered Ronja and her gang chasing her, the sudden roar of the train. She remembered the piercing pain—and then nothing—but darkness.

Her breath came in frantic gasps, her heart racing, her body trembling uncontrollably. How did I survive this? 

Not just the train… not all of this… all of this torture. Her mind spun, racing, desperate to make sense of it, yet every thought twisted back into impossibility, leaving her paralyzed with fear.

She looked up at the ceiling and the harsh light above. It was painful, glaring—cold and artificial. It gave no warmth, like fake plants trying to mimic something beautiful but failing utterly.

,,I hate hospitals'' she whispered to herself trying to calm down. She truly did. The doctors never seemed to care when she spoke; they looked past her, as if she were invisible, sometimes even pretending not to see her. She preferred small clinics, where the doctors actually noticed how the patient felt.

Slowly, she regained her strength and rose to her feet. She stepped out of the bathroom and sank back onto her bed. Outside, the night stretched dark and endless, filled with countless stars—a lonely, yet magical night.

She slowly turned off the lights.

“Alishia…”

She spun around—too fast for her injuries.

That voice again. What was it? Why was she hearing it again? She had first heard it with Ronja… and now here? But the room was empty. Completely empty. She was alone.

Then she heard it: footsteps and frantic voices.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was here?” a male voice shouted.

“Doctor… I’m sorry. I just found her here. She was already dead when I entered her room. She… she died because of her internal bleeding.” another male voice answered, stuttering with fear.

“It is your job to tell me when a patient passes away.”

The footsteps stopped just outside her door.

Alishia didn’t know why, but she scrambled into the closet, pressing herself into the shadows, afraid to breathe. Her body trembled uncontrollably, and the room felt unreal—like she was trapped in a dream she couldn’t wake from.

“That poor girl… only thirteen years old,” the old man sighed. “In a week, she would have been fourteen.”

Alishia’s breath caught in her throat. In a week… she would turn fourteen? But he wasn’t talking about her, was he? She wasn’t dead—not dead at all. She felt the sharp sting of pain in her arms, the heat of her pulse, the heavy rise and fall of her chest—her heart—

And then she froze. Her heart, just seconds ago hammering in panic, seemed to stop. A cold weight pressed into her chest. Her stomach knotted. Every muscle in her body went rigid. She could hear her own ragged breaths echoing in her ears, each one a deafening reminder that something was horribly, impossibly wrong.

She was completely empty.

Her mind spun, desperate to make sense of it, but there was no sense to be made. This can’t be real. This is impossible!

door slowly opened, and the two men stepped inside.

“Next time, come to me immediately! Not twenty minutes later!” the older man scolded the younger.

“I’m deeply sorry, and I noted the time of de—” the young man began, but he suddenly stopped. His notebook fell to the floor with a sharp clack.

,,What are you do—” the old man began, but he suddenly stopped.

Alishia peeked out and saw their shocked faces, like they had seen a ghost.

“Where did she go?” the young man suddenly blurted. “The dead can’t just walk away!”

“Are you absolutely sure she was dead?” the old man asked, his voice trembling.

“Yes! Her heart had stopped for several minutes! I don’t know how this is possible, and the nurse who was here before said she had already been dead for hours!”

The young man’s face paled even further. The doctor pulled out his phone and began dialing quickly, whispering urgently into it.

Alishia’s hand twitched against the closet door. A small creak escaped.

The young man froze, eyes wide. “Who’s there?” he whispered sharply, looking around.

“Shh!” the old man hissed, grabbing his arm. “Don’t speak. Can’t you see I’m on the phone you moron?!”

The young man swallowed hard.

For a moment, the room was eerily silent except for the faint echo of their breathing.

“Hours?? Why didn’t anyone tell me about this? All you do is nothing! No one is working in this hospital!” the old man barked at him.

“The nurse must have made a mistake. Come with me,” the he said angrily, hanging up the phone. Then the two of them left

Alishia sat there, completely paralyzed.
She couldn’t believe the conversation she had just witnessed—she refused to believe it. And yet, deep down, she knew it was true… and that was what terrified her most.

She pressed a trembling hand against her chest, searching for her heartbeat again.
Nothing.

Her breath caught. Panic crept in.

She tried to make sense of what was happening, to force her thoughts into order—but then something far worse struck her.

The amulet was gone.

Alishia looked down at her chest—nothing but her bare skin.

Panic surged through her.

She moved without thinking. Even though it felt like glass was slicing her open, she forced herself up and ran out of the room.

She didn’t know how she could still run, but she did.

She didn’t know where she was running—only that she had to go. Go far. Far away.

She didn’t even know where to begin looking for it—whether the train had destroyed it or if the hospital had taken it—but her mind and body screamed the same command:

Run.

Bare feet slapped against the cold hospital floor as she ran. The lights above blurred into streaks of white, her breath tearing painfully from her lungs. Somewhere behind her, a voice shouted—but she didn’t turn around.

Doors flew past. Curtains. Shadows.

Her shoulder slammed into a wall, pain exploding through her side, but she barely felt it. Fear drowned everything else.

Then—air.

Cold night air hit her face as she burst through the exit. The doors crashed shut behind her, the sound echoing too loud in the empty street. She stumbled forward, gasping, the city stretching out before her—dark, endless, and unforgiving.

She didn’t stop running.

She ran deep into the woods.
Branches cracked beneath her feet, and the moss and fallen leaves were wet and slippery. She ran until her breath burned and her body screamed in pain. Tears blurred her vision—not only from fear, but from exhaustion.

At last, she slowed. Shaking, she forced herself to breathe.

When she finally looked up, she realized she stood at the edge of an unfamiliar lake. Its glassy surface shimmered beautifully beneath the white moonlight, and the water made a soft, glistening sound—as if it had been touched by magic itself.

Alishia’s breathing slowly grew quieter, and the pain began to fade—just a little.

Then—

crack.

A sharp sound snapped through the silence.

Her body went rigid. Slowly, she turned around.

Someone was standing behind her.

,,Who are you?” she called out, her voice trembling.

The figure stepped out of the shadows.

A young man appeared—his silver-white hair shimmering faintly in the moonlight, his clothing strange and timeless, like something from an old story. His icy blue eyes seemed to hold secrets she couldn’t yet understand. Though he looked like a young adult, there was a quiet gravity about him, a presence that felt… significant, as if he had been waiting for this moment long before she even existed.

“Alishia,” he said softly.

Her breath caught.

It was the same voice she had heard before. She had thought she was imagining it, but now it was here, real and undeniable.

“I’m Kain,” he said, a faint, gentle smile brushing his lips. “I won’t hurt you. I promise. But you need to follow me, please.”

He knelt down, his expression soft and trustworthy.

,,Even if you don’t know me and don’t trust me’’

Slowly, he extended his hand toward her.

“I’m a friend of your mother.”

Alishia stared at him, unsure andconfused . Her body ached, her mind spun with questions—but there was something about the way the moonlight danced across his figure, the stillness of the lake behind them, that made her heart feel as if it were standing at the edge of something vast, invisible, and extraordinary.

She didn’t know it yet—but her path had already begun.