Past Mistakes and Future Lessons

Chronid was small, but what it lacked in square footage it made up for in height. The town seemed almost futuristic: LED screens plastered the face of each building, creating a cyberpunk-like aesthetic combined with the city’s neon lights and reflective surfaces. Various news reports, pop culture trends, and the makeup-heavy faces of idols stared down from every angle—unnerving and foreign.

Eyes were glued to the screens as shouts and excited clamor filled the sidewalks and streets. For those that preferred the exercise, sets of helical stairs wound past each other as people climbed the gemstone-embedded steps like ants. Most traffic was of the foot variety, however, and even then, despite the cramped space, it remained minimal. The sidewalks remained far more mobile, transporting those who chose to get out to pre-programmed destinations. Neon arrows indicated the appropriate flow of foot traffic and small grassy medians were left untouched for those who had time to spare, meant for leisurely enjoyment.

Aside from its technological advancements, the city’s most-striking features were its multiple levels—above and below. The subsurface consisted of shopping and eatery as it spanned multiple subfloors, each one more prominent and luxurious than the last. From casual styles closer to the surface to urban and punk styles on the lower floors, Chronid had it all. For those interested in multi-cultural foods, the third sublevel offered a myriad of gourmet dishes, but for those more accustomed to local cuisines, the first sublevel offered that taste of home. It truly was an architectural and social marvel.

Clear glass elevators swooshed up and down, taking people from one story to the next. Like its subsurface, the upper half of the city reflected a luxurious appearance from its souvenir-focused storefronts to its glittering bars stocked with more alcohol than they knew what to do with—even the schools boasted large halls and open naves. Grocery stores were plastered with colorful produce posters and brimming with taste-test stations, allowing customers to sample small portions of the larger product. Back alleys squeezed between high-rises, hidden within a world of their own.

Towering into the sky, each story managed to find a new way to express the diverse culture and appreciation of Chronid while still embracing styles strangely reminiscent of Earth: sunglasses shops seemed as popular as grocery stores; women wore light cardigans or jackets combined with the occasional skirt or pair of leggings; off-shoulder tees and short shorts all seemed to reflect a different part of the city’s identity. Many opted for smaller handbags, finding the digitization of the most important items a luxury bestowed upon their shoulders. Makeup and skincare were heavily advertised by the occasional pull of a lip gloss tube or moisturizing cream alongside the innumerable amount of cute accessories: hair clips, pins, bows and berets, and even interchangeable nail tip stations for the small fee of five minutes of time.

For men, the digitization kept their pant pockets bulge-free from overstuffed wallets and heaps of cheap, plastic cards as they opted for looser styles paired with a simple, loose hat or even expensive looking headphones draped around their necks. Some went for even simpler styles: baggy shorts and a tee shirt, a zip-up hoodie and pants, or a collared shirt and pants. The occasional business suit still floated through the crowds of people, its wearer likely on his way to an important meeting somewhere. The sunglasses look, a casual short-sleeved hoodie and cargo shorts, seemed equally popular with the male population as the female population. Colognes and neutral body mists were advertised across the large screens alongside the occasional stylized satchel, leather or canvas. It seemed everyone did their shopping on the sublevels, with the flauntier outfits saved for the more social settings.

On the top floor, various idol groups, music agencies, and medical services called the place home. Concerts were a frequent occurrence, yet noise levels were never an issue. Flashing lights and heavy bass speakers frequented the concert and indie-band venues, painting the sky in a wealth of colors every evening. Cute, makeup-laden faces, frilly skirts and dresses paired with some form of thigh-highs or other tights, and the after-concert meet and greets graced the concert venues; soaring melodies and adrenaline-pumping guitar solos exuded from new indie bands looking to make a name for themselves, music agency executives judging from the shadows, scouting their next talent.

For the occasional dehydrated fan or talent, and even sprains or fractured bones, urgent care centers were open day and night, fully staffed by super intelligent AI doctors. The need for towering, concrete hospitals had been left in the past. The city was proud to display its medical data, too: Deaths: zero, Serious Disease: zero, Bone Fractures: six— The numbers scrolled on: zero for genetic disorders, two for lacerations and burns, and ten for dehydration, all within the last twelve months.

Somehow, Chronid was the epitome of luxury despite current events, but the city seemed blissfully unaware of the devils’ ascent and fate of their protector. With large LED screens plastered to the face of every multi-story building, something news-worthy was both expected and ignored entirely, contributing to the progressive style of the urban center itself. If no one cared, there was no need to instill fear and uncertainty or fill people’s heads with nonsense.

“Lyra, enough,” Brendan whined as he tried to free his wrist from her grasp. “We’re here, so you can let go now.”

“Not yet.” She looked around, uneasy. “You have no idea the scope of what I have to tell you, but this is still too public.”

Brendan looked around, uncertain himself. What had Lyra so afraid? It was the middle of the day, sunlight dazzling the city’s architecture. There was being cautious, but was there such thing as too cautious, all things considered?

“There.” She pointed to a small shade tree near the edge of town, just far enough away from the city center that it would be impossible for anyone to eavesdrop. “Just to be sure we’re on the same page here,” she said, double-checking, “the other girls did tell you about Chiipha and the devils, right?”

“Yes,” he said. “I mean, Mana and I have kind of been living here for the last two years, you know.”

“Great, because I’m about to blow your mind.”

A stern look crossed his face. The past two years hadn’t been a cakewalk, and he was always on his toes. With the threat of Ahzef and the other devils ever-present, what time was there to be anything but guarded? Lacia and Aria had been missing for two years, and if they had been unable to stop the devils, what chance was there that he and Mana could?

Lyra let out a deep sigh. “How do I put this? You know how Lacia told you about Kaden and the others, right? While she was still with Aria on the ship?”

Brendan nodded.

“Well… they never actually existed, and I know Lacia is going to tell you something different, but you should hear it from me first. It’s true that she just mysteriously ended up here, and what she told you about the power called “Aria” is also true, but, truthfully, it goes by a much different name.”

“Remember when you asked how you should put it? I have the answer to that question.” Brendan paused for a moment. “Bluntly.”

“Look, I’m sorry, but this is information you need to know, and you need to know, like, right now. Anyways,” she continued, “The school she ended up at doesn’t actually exist. As soon as she hit Chiipha’s boundary, I kind of had to dose her with magic. Think of it as some kind of magic-induced comatose lucid dream.”

He leaned against the base of the tree. “With Mana also being absent at the moment, I guess I’ll believe you. I mean, hell. This whole thing is like a branching storyline where all of the different bits and pieces of the story eventually coalesce into an ultimate climax.”

“Again, I apologize, but it’ll all make sense soon.” Her brunette hair turned blonde in the dappled sunlight as she sat in the grass. “If she had fully awakened right then and there, Ahzef and the other devils would have been on us in seconds, and she is not ready for that kind of power—yet. It would have been like taking candy from a baby.”

Brendan chuckled. “How cliché. So, I guess when she fully, quote-un-quote awakens, that becomes some kind of signal flare to the other devils, or…?” Another, more pertinent question, entered his mind. “How do you know all of this?”

“To answer your first question, yes. Until Lacia is ready to fight at full strength, she cannot awaken her powers completely. Not yet. Your little princess is,” she quickly covered her mouth, “That’s an oopsie… Well,” she sighed, shoulders slumping, “she’s a princess. Her primary duty is to defend the boundary between Earth and the Reverse World. However,” a brisk wind rustled the tree above their heads, throwing bits of shade and dappled sunlight around like a child’s toy, “there is another princess whose primary duty is to— Can you guess?”

“Guard the boundary between Chiipha and the Reverse World,” Brendan finished.

“Unfortunately, she was devoured by the devils many years ago, and a ceremony was never held to pass the title on to an heir for two reasons: first, because she was a virgin and had no children. The second reason is because what they stole from her is the reason they’re actively seeking Lacia.”

Brendan counted on his fingers, rehashing what Lyra just told him. “Alright. Let me get this straight: a new Princess of Chiipha was never crowned because the one who originally held that title was basically murdered and her powers stolen, that and the fact she had no children.”

“And even if she did have a child,” Lyra added, “they would have been too young to ascend to the metaphorical throne anyways. She—the princess—was just a little younger than we are now—approximately early twenties.” Lyra looked even more uneasy.

“Your expressions tell me there’s more.”

Her face went from uneasiness to embarrassment in seconds. “Yes, but you have to promise not to say anything until I give you the okay.”

She tucked locks of brunette hair behind her ears to reveal a subtle point to the tips. They were an odd shape, but not something that would draw attention unless someone got close, and even then, her hair hid her ears well. Still, despite their oddities, shorter lobes and subtle point at the tip, they seemed almost familiar, like something he’d read about in a book once. He wracked his brain, desperate to place why her ears seemed so familiar.

“No… It’s not that I’ve read about them…” He stared directly into Lyra’s eyes. “Your ears indicate that you’re part of a certain race of people, don’t they? You’re like a walking cliché,” he joked, “but you’re more important than you let on.”

“Huh? How could you possibly come to that conclusion just from the shape of my ears alone?”

“It was an old folktale passed down through the Greyriter family. Granted, somehow it got so off track that the moral of the story ended up being about not sleeping when you’re tired, whatever sense that makes.”

“The Iliern,” she whispered softly.

“And if I’m right— Wait. Did you just say—?” He grabbed Lyra’s palms, turning them up to face the afternoon sun, fighting to illuminate her fair skin. They gave off a faint, crystalline sheen, exposing a series of ornate patterns that twirled through each other, eventually forming a large makeshift star, similar to the one on Mana’s cheek when it glowed. “I knew it! You’re—”

“Shh!” Lyra hushed him. “Not here, Brendan. Besides,” she looked around anxiously, “we have business to attend to here. I didn’t drag you to Chronid for a vacation, in case you were wondering.”

“I’m aware,” he said, reigning in his excitement. “After this, we need to figure out where Lacia is before the devils do, and Aria is our best shot at that, but you’re not off the hook yet, either.”

A small groan escaped Aria’s lips. It took everything she had and then some to escape from that hell of a castle; she preferred to think of it as something akin to a royal pain in the ass. Kuria was tougher than she’d imagined, not to mention the last time she really used her magic was during her brawl with Lucifero.

Regardless, she and Mana were safe. She was almost certain they’d jumped to Chronid, but everything was so dark, and it smelled of mildew and wet wood—not exactly what she’d been hoping for. Did she miss the landing point when she pulled them out of Kuria’s realm? The unexpected run-in after finding Mana and subsequent fight had proved to be a costly one; she had used most of the mana she’d been storing in the event she’d need it for a later emergency which meant she had no way to heal either of them. Unfortunately, the overconsumption of mana had been costlier than she’d anticipated—another unexpected surprise: in her own way, she found herself teetering between life and death.

Aside from the pain, she felt something else—something intangible. Was it guilt, or an increased sense of uselessness and lack of power? She hadn’t been able to protect Lacia, and now Mana was about to pay the afterlife a visit if she didn’t think of something quick. If anything, though, she felt like a bad friend. Whatever the case, they both needed medical attention—Mana especially.

A warm, wet sensation covered her hand as she struggled to find something to prop herself up against, but it was no use; she was too sore to move and whatever she’d touched continued to expand. Panic overtook her senses. She was afraid Mana had bled out until the smell of fermented grapes and alcohol greeted her nose.

“So, it’s a wine cellar… Thank god.” She clamored around in the dark for another minute as her eyes adjusted to the dark. The light from under the cellar door desperately tried to eke its way in, but the darkness consumed it at its source. “Dammit. Come on!”

Without warning, the door suddenly flew open, smashing Aria in the face as she took the full brunt of the wooden frame. She held her hands over her nose, attempting to stem the gush of blood. Fresh tears stung her eyes, mixing with blood as they splattered to the ground.

“Eh? Who the hell are you, and how did you get in here?” An angry man stood in the doorway, juxtaposed against the light and dark.

“It’s a long story, ok?” she said, voice muffled. “And how can you stand there and berate me when you just bashed me in the face with a door?!” she retorted.

“It’s my wine cellar, and you’re the one who was sitting in front of the door. Now get out before I throw you out!” He scanned the room, observing a busted wooden barrel that now oozed red wine all over the floor. Moments later, his eyes caught sight of Mana, motionless in a back corner of the room.

Aria looked at the man then back at Mana. She was so disoriented, she didn’t realize Mana had thawed. “Wait… How did that happen?!” She scrambled towards her, wounds still fresh and bleeding. “We were supposed to have more time…”

Noticing Mana’s ragged condition, the wine keeper rushed over to join Aria. “Forget what I said earlier. Right now, we need to disinfect those wounds.”

She replied with a half-mumbled, semi-coherent response, but it came out jumbled and slurred—something about not waking her up yet. She was dizzy, and her ears buzzed like a swarm of bees. Blood trickled onto her legs, seeping into her tattered tights before sliding onto the floor. No matter how long she pinched her nose, she couldn’t get the blood to stop. Stumbling to her feet, she braced her shoulder against the wall, unsteady as she walked over to the wine keeper, scrambling to collect enough alcohol to disinfect her wounds.

“Do you see the way the skin has turned red?” he observed. “Those areas are already infected, and if we don’t get this young lady medical attention, you will have a much bigger problem on your hands.” He trickled fresh wine over Mana’s wounds, disinfecting the surface, but they were deep and so was the infection.

Mana’s face contorted in what must have been excruciating pain, but she remained unconscious—probably for the better. Aria placed a hand on Mana’s forehead, pushing her bangs up, before immediately withdrawing her hand; she was running a high fever. She held her hand above her forehead again, this time avoiding direct contact; she was giving off enough heat she could feel it without even having to place her hand.

“Are you able to carry her legs? I’ll carry her top half.” The wine keeper seemed ignorant of Aria’s own plight, still trying to collect herself.

She stooped down, attempting to lift Mana’s lower half, but her legs gave out almost immediately. She didn’t realize just how spent she was; she’d expended most of her strength fighting Kuria—not to mention the fact that her nose was probably broken. How could she help anyone when she was in as much pain as she was? A headache pounded against her skull with tremendous force causing her cheek muscles to twitch as her face continued to swell; she was cramping at the worst possible time too, but she couldn’t tell if was from the stab wounds or if she was just unfortunate enough to have hit that time of the month again. Her lower back muscles felt like they’d just dragged a two-hundred-pound weight up a large hill, and her shoulder blades ached from the referred pain of her punctured abdominal muscles.

“I’m sorry,” she said, slightly more coherent, “but I can hardly even stand… I don’t even remember walking over here…”

Finally, the wine keeper acknowledged her wounds, too. “Whatever you just went through has adrenaline pumping through your veins like crazy. What in the world happened to the both of you young ladies?”

His face was grave with concern, noticing Aria’s own wounds and bloodied nose. He stood up and yelled out the door as several young men, donning grape-stained aprons, appeared in the doorway; they must have been drawn by the man’s shouting.

“These young men here will take you both to the hospital,” he explained. “It’s the only one in all of Chiipha, but it has the best services, and you’ll need more than a quick bandage.”

“You have a business to run. Don’t wo—” One of the workers picked Aria up with such ease, she wondered if he was just really strong, or she was that light. Another young man grabbed Mana. “Y-you really don’t have to do this for us.”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re closed for the day anyways,” the wine keeper grinned, glad to be of help. “I’ll get this cleaned up in here, and I admit I acted out of haste a minute ago. You both just come see me when you’re all healed up, okay? I’ll make this right.” He turned around to face the liquified mess of a place the wine cellar had become and sighed. “Well, look at it this way. That nose will look better than you’ve ever seen it once you’re all fixed up!”

She blushed. “Y-yes sir. Thank you, and sorry… again.”

“This town is more like a labyrinth. How does every single floor have something different from the one above it?”

“Just follow me, and we’ll figure it out together,” Lyra said, unamused by Brendan’s whining.

“Lyra, wait— I think I just saw Mana? And Aria?” He rubbed his eyes then blinked a few times. “I am so serious right now. It was brief, but I swear I just saw them.” He jumped as an unfamiliar voice came from behind him.

“Do you know those two? That unconscious girl was in especially bad shape.”

“Yeah, we do but,” he looked down, locking eyes with a gentle, elderly man, though he seemed just as energetic as anyone. “How do you know them?”

“I discovered them in my wine cellar, all beaten up, about twenty minutes ago. I forgot to ask for their names. The brunette girl… I think she had yellow undergarments—the only part of her clothes that weren’t in tatters.” He cupped his chin in thought. “The caramel-haired one seemed… anxious, but she wasn’t in good shape either.”

“Mana was wearing yellow just the other day!” Brendan exclaimed.

Lyra shot him a disgusted look. “Why do you know that?”

“When you live with the same person in a rusted old RV for two years, it’s inevitable,” he sighed.

“You two should hurry,” the wine keeper said. “They’re being taken to the hospital. It’s the only one on the surface, top floor. When you exit the elevator, take a left and it’ll be on your right, just a few buildings down.”

“Thank you very much, sir.” Lyra paused. “Uhh… is there anything we can compensate you for?” Large, wet spots dampened the man’s knees—likely wine. “The smell of wine is super strong… But that’s a wild throwback to that time when we—” She covered her mouth. “I almost blew it!”

Brendan’s face furrowed with confusion. “I vaguely remember someone who used to say things like that… And the way her voice rose in pitch…”

“Considering the shape those two were in,” the wine keeper answered, responding to Lyra’s question, “and the regrettable fact that I accidently broke the caramel-haired one’s nose— Since you seem to know the two of them, I just ask you tell them to come drop by my store once they’ve recovered,” he said solemnly. “I did not act with dignity back there, and for that, I regret how I treated the situation.”

“We’ll make sure they get better, and they’ll be back to see you in no time,” Lyra said, trying to console him, “but we’ve got to go now. Thank you so much for your help!” She grabbed his hands, smiling.

“There’s something about this girl… I vaguely remember someone else who used to do the same thing… Worth keeping an eye on her, I suppose.” He turned towards the elderly wine keeper. “We’re caught up in some important business at the moment, so I apologize for the haste but, like she said, we really appreciate your help!”

The man smiled as he waved them off. “I look forward to your return, then. Be well.”

Vending machine snacks offered limited sustenance for its weary waiters: an overly salty chip, another slathered with too much cheese powder, and warm waters. Brendan peered through the glass, hoping something might stand out to him, but everything was the same: overly salty, cheesy, or some strange combination of flavors that could put someone in a coma.

“Root-based salt wedges…? What even is this stuff?” he mumbled under his breath.

Despite the lackluster snacks, the hospital itself was state-of-the-art: long hallways, spacious patient rooms, cushiony waiting room seats, and frequent informational graphics covering everything from broken bones to unheard-of viruses. Another series of screens displayed everything from patient names and their current status to highly accurate times for various procedures including surgeries.

Before Brendan could check for Mana’s name, he was greeted by the clack of crutches on tile as Aria wandered into the waiting room. At first, he didn’t recognize her; her nose was covered by a large gauze pad, held in place by a small stint, and her undereye bags were a shade of purple he’d only seen in movies. She gave a deep sigh as she pressed her shoulder against the wall, closing her eyes, tilting her head onto the same section of wall she now occupied.

He noticed large, white bandages that covered most of her abdomen as the hospital gown fluttered in the exchanging air currents. The occasional blood spot seeped through the bandaging. As he examined her further, he noticed her ankle had been wrapped in the same bandaging, also held in place by a stint. Her body language alone was enough to tell him she was exhausted, but she seemed to be okay, otherwise.

She opened her eyes, spotting Brendan moments later, surprised. “Before you ask, I’m fine. It’s just a bad sprain.”

“My ass, Aria. Look at your face, your arms and legs covered in bruises, your whole upper body—” She smashed his foot with the butt of her crutches. “What the hell?” he hissed. “That hurt!”

“You really should know not to point things like that out.” Lyra rounded the corner, winding her hair into a ponytail now draped over her shoulder. “A girl’s face is pretty important, and we don’t need reminding when it’s less than pretty. I would have smashed both of your feet, though,” she said, strangely disappointed. “I wonder what the dynamic between the two of you is.”

“Enough foot smashing talk! No one is smashing anymore feet,” he snapped. “Aria is a childhood… friend. Anyways, how is Mana? Did the doctors say?”

Aria’s face remained unchanged as she shifted her arms on the crutches, but something bothered her. Her eyes portrayed a distant look as if she’d received bad news. She wasn’t one to police what others said, but “childhood friend” didn’t sit right with her. She sighed, figuring it was best not to overthink things at the moment. Motioning for them to sit back down, she gave a quick update on Mana’s condition.

“We were lucky, luckier than we should have been, getting here when we did. But that doesn’t mean she’s out of the woods yet.” Aria attempted to take a seat herself as Brendan jumped up, trying to help into her a chair. “She’s in the Operating Room currently. They’re trying to see just how much internal damage there is, and if she’s going to need any organ transplants, but, from what I’ve been told, most of the internal stuff has avoided her vital areas.”

“Is it safe to assume, then, that her injuries are beyond the scope of healing with magic?” Lyra pondered.

Aria’s mouth twisted into an aslant frown. “Look… A lot has happened in the last two years, and while I can’t say for sure if she’s truly that in-danger, I can say that I can’t heal her—not right now.”

“Aria. I think it’s best you tell us where you’ve been and how you and Mana received the wounds you did.” Brendan stood up, folding his arms. “What I know for certain is that if you’re alive, so is Lacia, and that means one of two things—”

“That Ahzef is alive, or you two truly defeated the devils,” Lyra finished. Aria looked her dead in the eyes, emerald irises boring into Lyra’s soul. “I missed you Ari,” she smiled, “but there’s a lot to go over still. Apologies for interrupting, though.”

“I missed you too, Lyra,” Aria smiled back. “Long time no see.”

Brendan stared blankly. “I missed something. You two know each other?”

“We do,” Aria replied, “and I promise I’ll explain later, but right now, let me clarify what happened to me and Mana.”

“You spared off against the fourth-ranked of the Reverse World?” Brendan was shocked. “I’m sure she was nothing compared to Ahzef, but if what you’re saying is true, and Kuria didn’t just play us all for fools, then we have a problem.”

“And you met Chronyu?” Lyra added.

Aria nodded. “There’s more, though. Brendan already knows, but you don’t have the full story, Lyra, and I think it’s only fair you know, too.” She avoided eye contact at first, afraid of her reaction. “The reason I was ever with the devils in the first place was because of an accident my parents and I were in, but I was still small… when they died. I wasn’t myself after they passed. I was wallowing in self-pity, and when I found those essays, my own selfish reasons led me to a place I should never have set foot in.”

“Aria—”

She shook her head, silencing Brendan. “I thought that what we were doing was for my sake. After Lacia and I fought Lucifero, our memories connected, and I was there, living through them.” Her voice softened to a whisper. “I had no idea who she was at first, so when Ahzef brought her in, I thought— No… I didn’t think. I could feel it when she was transported to Chiipha for the first time and then I knew something was up.” Her voice trembled. “It was like when you can feel the cool air from a thunderstorm before it actually rains, but on a much larger scale. Think of the universe as a giant, unaltered pool. When something disturbs that tranquility, you feel it.”

“Aria,” Brendan started, but Lyra put a finger to her lips. “Let her continue.”

“I assume you two already noticed the disturbance in the universal plane… That’s because Lacia was forced through a gate that wasn’t meant to be opened.” Glistening tears flowed down her cheeks. “This all started because of me. It’s my fault we’re in this mess.”

Lyra lifted Aria’s chin, wet with tears. “None of this is your fault. You were hurting and didn’t know any better. I mean, how could anyone ever blame you?” She wiped her tears with a small cloth. “But that gate you mentioned… I wonder…”

“She’s right,” Brendan added. “None of us could have ever suspected the universe was filled with such terrifying and strange things. Magic, devils—even other worlds. Hell, no pun intended, even intelligent, non-human beings—Omnis and Hika, for example.” He flashed a cheery smile at her. “Aria, I told you two years ago that I didn’t expect you to act like anyone other than yourself. Do you remember that?”

She nodded. “Of course I do.”

“That hasn’t changed. Not once in these last two years.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Brendan—”

“You’re my world, and I wouldn’t have it any other way, so keep your head up.”

Lyra stepped out into the hall for a moment, giving the two some space. The day had grown into night as the minutes passed like speeding cars. Moments later, the sound of approaching footsteps caught her attention. She assumed it was one of Mana’s doctors as the tapping of rubber soles grew closer, but something seemed off. Chiipha’s medical facilities were supposed to be run by AI—not people.

“Well… Whatever the reason, this needs to be good news.”

“You’re one of Mana’s friends, right?” a masked doctor asked.

“I suppose you could say that,” she said, folding her arms, suspicious.

“She had some major internal damage, and we’ve repaired what we could, but the extent of her injuries was quite severe. I wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up suffering from chronic pains. There was a lot of torn muscle as well, but whatever caused her injuries luckily missed any vital spots.” Lyra sighed in relief. It wasn’t great news, but it wasn’t bad news, either. “We will need to keep her as an Inpatient for several days to monitor her during the recovery period. She’s lost a lot of blood, but there’s also still a chance she makes a full recovery, otherwise.”

“Can she have visitors yet?”

“Let’s give it ‘til morning. She needs the rest tonight, but if you want to visit then, that should be just fine.”

“Understood. Thank you for all of your hard work. We know this was sudden,” she apologized. “I’ll make sure those two,” she pointed with her thumb, “get the full report.” She shook the doctor’s hand before returning to the waiting room.

“What happened? Is everything okay?” Aria started. “You just suddenly left.”

“I was actually talking to one of Mana’s doctors, or so I say. Nothing vital was hit, and she will recover, but she lost a lot of blood. There was also a lot of torn muscle, and she could end up dealing with chronic pain for a while. Other than that, though, they want to keep her for a few days to monitor her recovery—standard procedure in Chiipha. They’d like her to rest tonight. Visitors in the morning.”

“That’s a relief,” Brendan said, slumping against his seat.

Aria’s face brightened. “Once my mana recovers a little more, I think I can fix whatever’s left over…”

“Alright, then how about we get some rest ourselves?” Lyra suggested. “Being pretty is tiring,” she winked playfully, “and we have a lot of catching up to do, Aria.”

She smiled faintly. “That we do…” She trailed off as a mysterious rumble knocked stacks of paper to the floor subsequently causing roller beds to skid across the tile floors. The shaking lasted several minutes before subsiding. “Was that an earthquake?”

“Yes, but didn’t it feel… different?” Brendan asked.

Aria nodded. “You’re right. It started off super gradual and died off the same way—kind of like a train almost.”

“They’re actually called Phuakes here,” Lyra noted. “If anyone finds out that the gateway between Earth and Chiipha was opened,” she glanced over her shoulder, “it’ll cause mass panic. We can’t let that happen, obviously, so if someone overhears you guys using Earth terminology, things like saying ‘earthquake’, we could be in trouble.”

“Phuakes, right… Kind of like an fw sound…” Aria said, practicing her pronunciation. She turned to Brendan, then back to Lyra. “So, does anyone have any great ideas on where we’re sleeping tonight since—”

The hospital shook with violent, astounding force in a test of adversity to the sudden forces of nature. Was the first tremor just a warning? Windows shattered, unable to hold the glass packed within their frames; beds crashed into each other as medical equipment was plucked from the wall outlets, snaking alongside the makeshift bumper car beds. The cacophony of crashing and banging corroded the usual peace and quiet.

“If the building collapses on us, we are so super dead—” A ceiling tile crashed to the floor, inches from Aria’s feet.

“It wouldn’t be any fun if that were to happen now, would it?”

Aria spun around, but Brendan and Lyra were hunkered down under a nearby table, facing the direction opposite of her. She wobbled back and forth, losing her balance as she fell onto her knees. She’d heard of schizophrenic people hearing voices in their heads, but she felt fine, aside from being as banged up as she was, so where did the voice come from? She briefly considered the idea that maybe she was a little schizophrenic, after all, but she pushed the thought from her mind.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “I can promise you. I’m the last person you want to intrude upon.”

“Yes, I’d rather not get on your bad side, but I think you’ll have the answer to your question if I just show you,” the voice taunted.

“What does that even m—”

A dark shadow pooled under the lights between the hallway and the waiting room, seemingly unafraid of the light. It compounded on itself, heaps of black shadows dripping like mud from the largest mounds before finally congealing into a solid form. There, in the entryway, stood a man, no older than thirty; he was well-kept and looked like he’d just arrived from a black-tie event: black dress shoes, tailored suit with a black bow tie, and slicked-back hair. He was the epitome of class.

“Mikaun,” Aria growled. “What do you want?”

“You’re enemies of Ahzef and the Reverse Royalty, are you not? I’d like to propose an idea.” Mikaun snapped his fingers, putting an end to the shaking. “Is that enough to trust me?”

“Absolutely not,” Aria and Lyra said in unison.

“Do you really think I’d ever trust a devil?” Aria warned. “Not after Lucifero— Not after Kuria— Not after any devil!” She bit her lip, still on her knees.

Mikaun shrugged. “And what if I told you I had some information you might find useful? Besides, if I’d wanted to kill you, I would have, seeing you sprawled out helpless on that cold floor.”

“I’ll burn that tongue out of your mouth. Don’t tease me,” Aria warned, clenching her fists.

Brendan stepped between Aria and the devil. “I can feel the hostility pouring from both of you like some kind of hot wind—especially you, Aria. Chill out for a minute.” He locked eyes with Mikaun. “What kind of information do you supposedly have? If you’re part of Ahzef’s troupe of fools, yet you’re here with us… I’m kind of liking this plot twist. Still,” he said, guarded, “you won’t gain any kind of help from us if you don’t spill whatever information you have.”

“Help?” Aria’s voice rang with confusion. “Help a devil? Brendan—”

“I’m interested in your offer,” he continued, but since you already seem to know so much about us, how about explaining why you’re here, first.” He was firmly in control of the conversation.

“Very well then.” Mikaun seated himself in an undamaged chair at the front of the room, crossing his legs. “I didn’t used to be so apt to help you humans, but what Ahzef seeks is the destruction of everything—a full reset, if you will. As you’re of Greyriter blood, I assume you’re aware of the Searing Wounds event?”

Brendan smiled, the look on his face almost psychotic. “You have my attention now! I love the adrenaline rush twists like this give me, but I’ll warn you—” His voice grew deep. “It would behoove you get to the point—quickly.”

“Fine, fine. First, recall that injured Lhumin boy. Now, think about why there’s no record of the event.” Mikaun let his words sink in. “Why do you think that is?”

“Simple answer—the family elders died alongside any record of it. It was all word-of-mouth for the most part. Anyone who might have even the slightest semblance of an idea as to what happened is more than likely dead.” He stood up from his seat under the table, stretching. “It’s been over 200 years since the conflicted ended, so why does it matter now? The Greyriter and Lhumin families settled their grievances already.”

Mikaun opened his hand. A large, bound book appeared in his palm, perfectly balanced. Leather straps sealed the contents of its pages, but the book itself looked as if it could fall apart at any moment. The string binding was cracked and looked as if it had been stained by either coffee or tea at some point. The scent of acrid ink filled the room as he opened the yellowed pages, stiff and heavy.

“This,” Mikaun said, thumbing through the book, “is the official record of the entirety of the Greyriter family history.”

“Not possible,” Brendan replied. “There can’t be a full record if the events of the Searing Wounds died alongside anyone who even lived during that time. Plus, even if there was some kind of written record somewhere, it certainly wouldn’t be in there.” Brendan approached the devil, but Mikaun signaled for him to stay put. “There’s only one way to verify your claim and the legitimacy of that book. There—”

“There’s a hidden emblem on the fourth page of every Greyriter record, and in order to see it, you have to warm the backside of the page—specifically, the bottom-right corner.” Mikaun looked up from the book, locking eyes with Brendan. “Now you may take it.”

Brendan snatched the book as he gently lifted the fourth page, warming it with short, hot breaths. It was just as Mikaun said; a small emblem faded onto the specified corner of the page: a small sword pierced what looked like a wooden shield of some sort. As he continued to warm the page, the rest of the emblem was revealed. Engraved within the shield was a sun, its rays shooting off the edges.

“So, is no one going to ask how he stopped the phuake, or?” Aria questioned. She crossed her arms, puffing out her cheeks like a pouting child. “It only seems fair we know why you’re here as well, Mikaun.” Aria was cautious, but her earlier apprehension had started to fade. “You never answered us.”

Mikaun grinned. “I’m actually here for that one.” He pointed at Lyra.

Brendan looked at Aria, mirroring the same confused expression. “That actually reminds me,” he mused. “Lyra, Mana and I never got a full introduction from you. No offense, but we still don’t know why you came to us.”

Lyra sighed. “Does it really surprise you? After all, Aria and I are pretty close. That alone should give you some idea.” She was firm, but her shifting feet exuded nervous energy.

Mikaun clapped his hands, refocusing everyone’s attention. “Now, now. Don’t get ahead of yourselves. I told you I had some information you might like, remember? That information should explain why I’m here.” He smiled devilishly, though it lacked malfeasance. “Oh, but we should have your friend present for this as well. Shall we pay her a visit?”

“But the doctor said—”

“Boy, I am the doctor,” Mikaun taunted, flashing his badge. “I’m sure you’re just as anxious to know as she is.” He smiled at Aria who shivered.

“Don’t do that,” she frowned.

Somehow, the hospital had managed to escape major damage by the phuake despite the small piles of rubble mysteriously pushed against the wall. The tremor had been deafening, like standing next to a freight train as it barreled down the tracks; now, an eerie silence hung in the air. Unless Chiipha had adapted to such violent tremors, the lack of concern for the hospital’s patients was strange.

Aria lagged Brendan and Lyra, but she didn’t mind. They were lost in conversation and seemed to be having a good time, judging by the occasional giggle from Lyra, but she wasn’t sure how she felt about their sudden buddy-buddy nature. Confusion? Maybe jealousy? Was she envious that it was Lyra hanging off his arm instead of her? The least he could have done was offer to help her walk; the crutches were beginning to dig into her arms.

“They make a cute pair.” Mikaun slithered up next to her from god knows where. “But I think I like what you and Brendan had going on, back at the Hall of Memories and all. Definitely way cuter.”

“More chills… Ughh…” She shivered. “How do you know what happened, anyways? No one else should know about that.”

“The answers you seek are not far, but I don’t dare interfere much further. As it stands, you’ve now met three of the five of the Reverse Royalty. The fifth and, technical sixth, seat are known as the Binary Twins—they fight together versus alone, so there’s actually six of us.” He paused for a moment. “Sorry, math isn’t my strong suit. I guess there’s really about seven of us, isn’t there?”

“Why are you telling me this, Mikaun? What are trying to get out of us?” Aria leaned against the wall, taking the weight off her ankle. “I know you, for whatever reason, can’t answer that, but if you’re trying to gain our trust—”

“You have fifteen minutes before you find yourself in a real bind, so less questions and more listening.” He helped Aria hobble into Mana’s hospital room. Brendan and Lyra were already seated in the guest chairs.

She scanned the room, surprised to find Mana awake. “It’s almost three-thirty in the morning and I hurt. This better be good or someone else gets to share my pain.”

“Good morning to you too, Mana,” Mikaun piped. “Now, all four of you, listen to me very carefully.” The devil’s playful face turned serious. “An encounter with two more seats of the Reverse Royalty is inevitable, but it doesn’t have to happen right now. You have less than fifteen minutes before they show up, so I will make this as quick as possible.” Mikaun closed the door and pulled the shade.

“You’re not a normal doctor, are you?” Mana said, narrowing her eyes.

“Very observant!” he clapped. “My name is Mikaun, the technical fifth and sixth ranked of the Reverse Royalty, though I mean no harm.” He turned towards Lyra. “Now then, Lyra— Or would you prefer I call you Princess, instead?”

Lyra shot him a look. “Since you’ve gone and told my secret, I’ll explain myself, thank you. Mikaun can pick up after I finish.” She looked over at Brendan, eager to hear what she had to say. “Approximately two decades ago, the Princess of Chiipha was devoured by the devils thus allowing them access to the boundaries between Earth and Chiipha. However, they had been brutally defeated the last time they attempted this—a Rezertia.”

Aria kept a watchful gaze over Mikaun as Lyra continued her explanation. Something felt off, but she couldn’t place what and why. Her stomach rolled with a mixture of hunger pangs and anxiety. Even if the hospital was run by mostly AI, who had swept up the rubble? Why hadn’t she seen anyone else around? Moreover, why hadn’t she seen any of the AI doctors and staff?

“There are meant to be two princesses,” Lyra continued, “but not the kind that wear fancy dresses or that you see in movies. Their solemn duty is to protect the respective boundaries that lie between Earth and Chiipha. Likewise, they’re supposed to ensure the safety of their people.” She spoke quick, but everyone seemed to be following. “So, because the princess of Chiipha was killed, an official ceremony to crown her heir was never held, but also because the devils completely drained her of her powers—this is why they are back now. This is just speculation, but Lacia’s sudden cross into Chiipha is probably because the Erill Gate that seals the Reverse World away has been weakened.”

Mikaun checked the clock on the wall. “Earth is also missing its princess, but that’s a side to the story you will have to hear from its rightful heir.”

Lyra allowed Mikaun to finish before she continued. “As for myself… Chiipha used to be home to multiple royal families, and that’s an entire history lesson in of itself, but I am a princess to one of them: the Ekair family.” She could sense the information dump was still processing, judging by the blank look on Brendan’s face; Mana and Aria seemed to be following, however. “I don’t have the time to explain everything right now, and with time as scarce as it is—”

“I’ll wrap this up,” Mikaun said, checking the clock once more. “The other devils were beaten back in the past, most recently just over two decades ago, as the princess here stated. I, however, was not involved. Unfortunately, victory came at a great cost.”

Aria was the first to speak. “What is your reasoning for coming here, Mikaun? Why are you providing us with this information despite being one of the devils yourself?” Her voice was demanding.

“Ahzef seeks to destroy, then rewrite, the universe,” he said. “That alone explains some of the shifts you’ve felt in the universal plane. I’m providing this information because, like you, I also have something to protect. Ahzef must not be allowed to succeed. If you fail, it won’t be just your universe that withers away.” The devil bowed his head.

“But I know that’s not right…” Alarm bells went off in Aria’s head.

“I understand.” Mana added. “I may not have all the information right now, or know what’s truly right or wrong, but I do know that I think we can trust you.” She placed her hand above her heart. “I can sense the benevolence in you, Mikaun. You truly do have something that means the world to you and, just like us, you don’t want that to disappear.”

“I’m surprised you have the heart to say that, right after Kuria tore you and Aria to shreds like she did,” Brendan said, noting the irony. “By the way, how did you stop the shaking earlier? I’m mostly just curious.” He investigated Mikaun’s eyes with his own.

“From the phuake, you mean?”

“Yes. You snapped your fingers and it just… stopped, but there has been almost no word on the thing at all. Not to mention how eerily quiet it is. Why hasn’t there been some kind of emergency response? Plus, where are all of the hospital staff and such?”

Mikaun chuckled. “It’s very unfortunate you came to that realization, albeit it was a simple deduction.” The devil began to split into separate entities: one retained Mikaun’s original appearance; the second figure was far more feminine. “It’s never good to be nosy.”

With a loud snap, the color was sucked from the room. The hospital faded from soft hues of blue and white as it transformed into a dimly lit cell, lined by candle-lit lanterns along the stony back wall.

“Dammit, Brendan!” Aria was furious. “You just had to go and address the elephant in the room, didn’t you? Was it so hard to keep your stupid mouth shut?”

“Oh, come on now, Aria,” Brendan fired back. “Don’t act like you didn’t sense something was off, too! You can’t think I’m just going to sit here and let you blame me for this!”

Lyra cleared her throat. “If you two don’t shut up, quit bickering like children, and figure out what the hell just happened here, we’re as good as dead. Now get along,” she said through clenched teeth, “or I’ll be the scariest thing you see for a while.”

Aria scoffed, walking to the front of what seemed to now be their holding cell. “We can’t afford to lose this kind of time! When I get my hands on that damn devil, I’m going to blast him like I did Lucifero!” She squeezed the iron bars until her knuckles turned white.

“You’re going to blast who like you blasted me?” a familiar, devilish voice mocked.

She groaned. “It just gets better by the minute…”