Who Am I: Part 2

“Ahh! That was the best meal I’ve had in weeks,” Mana exclaimed in delight. Brendan and Licht seemed to agree as they, too, sat back in their chairs, stomachs full. “We still have to find a place to stay for the night, though. I don’t think my back could handle another night sleeping in the car.” She reached out to their waitress as she cleared a nearby table. “Excuse me, Ma’am?”

“Yes? Was everything to your satisfaction?” the waitress answered.

“Yes, actually. It was wonderful, but I noticed this restaurant was connected to an inn. Would you happen to have any openings or know if there are any, by chance?”

The waitress stopped for a moment to study the faces of her patrons. “Yes, actually, we do. How long are you looking to stay for?”

“Just a night or two, really.”

“Alright. And it’s just the three of you?”

“Yes. We need a break from sleeping in the car,” Mana laughed.

The waitress pulled out a small tablet, made a few quick taps, and handed the device to Mana. On the screen were several options depending on room-type, view, and even suites. The prices weren’t what she had hoped for, but they were still lighter on her wallet than what she was expecting. As she scrolled through the list of options, something else caught her eye; the numbers on the screen seemed to be in a foreign currency, but not one she’d ever heard of or seen before.

Ceruls, Alura’s currency of choice, had been replaced by something unrecognizable—a left-facing bracket centered inside a small circle. It was likely just a mistake, but Seria was still within Alura; the currency should still be in ceruls, regardless of who was requesting a room.

Cross-referencing the dinner bill and the room rates, she confirmed the currencies were dissimilar. She did a double-take just to be certain, but the respective currencies remained unchanged.

“Two nights would be perfect, but can you tell me what currency these rates are in?” Mana asked, handing the tablet back.

Puzzled, the waitress took a moment to examine the room rates in question. Mana watched as she fiddled with the device, frowning at its apparent failure to procure an accurate number; her frustration only grew when the tablet bricked itself, inoperable. She knocked it against the palm of her hand—a little crass and unexpected, but it seemed to work. With a couple more swipes, quick taps, and the click of a button, her face eased.

“I don’t know what happened there, but everything is back in ceruls again. I sincerely apologize for the inconvenience,” she exclaimed as she handed the tablet back to Mana.

Sure enough, the prices now reflected the updated currency and associated costs; the rates for a single night were now far more appealing. She was relieved, and so was her wallet.

“Yeah, two nights would be perfect, please.”

“Of course,” the waitress exclaimed in delight. “You’re our first guests in some time.”

“But there are so many people here… You’re telling me no one else has made a booking? The food is excellent and so are the prices for a room… I know things have been off lately, but there’s everything, and then some, going for this place. Doesn’t that seem strange?”

“Do you really think they have money for such expenses as you can afford right now?” The waitress gestured in the direction of a local refugee camp. “I think they have bigger things to worry about at the moment…”

A small group of refugees wandered through the streets; tattered clothes and dirt-covered faces exemplified their plight. One man limped along, struggling to keep pace while a woman held a hand over an already-scabbed-over laceration on her arm. They looked like they’d been through hell, but, somehow, they all managed to find a way to smile.

Mana overheard their conversation as they passed the patio. “I don’t know, guys,” a male voice said. “The earthquake was bad, but despite losing everything, I still have all of you. Maybe I’m still in shock, but I feel so blessed to be here right now…”

“Hey man, that’s what friends are for—to make you feel not-so-alone,” another of the male refugees replied. “We’re gonna get this figured out. For now, all we can do is wait for insurance to eventually kick in. I hope…”

“That’s really sweet of you, Mikey,” the injured woman said. “He’s right, guys. We have to be optimistic. There’s nothing we can do right now except wait, like you said.” She stopped, having noticed a member of the group had fallen behind. “Here, Rinn— Use my shoulder for support.”

Mana shifted uncomfortably in her seat, having been subject to a conversation she never thought she’d have to hear. While she’d been a little taken aback by the subtle suggestion that she was being selfish, judging by the waitresses’ reaction to her earlier question, it was still embarrassing to admit she wasn’t thinking clearly.

Her ears felt like they were on fire as her cheeks flushed. How could she have been so oblivious? These people were caught by surprise, victim to the unyielding power of nature. While she could afford dinner and a couple nights at a nice inn, she still felt guilty for having assumed that was a luxury everyone else could also afford.

The faint murmur of voices and small cries lingered in the air, carried out by the evening sea breezes as the final glow of the sun melted into the inky twilight of the evening. It was so calm despite the large influx of refugees into the city; the occasional laugh, and shout of frustration hitchhiked on the wind to her ears.

These people had suffered enormous tragedy; they were displaced, hungry, and scared with no home to return to, yet there remained a glimmer of hope and optimism that was unlike anything else. Maybe it was the sense of community and belonging? Was it that they could relate to each other, having lived through something as terrifying as an earthquake and, for some, a mega-tsunami?

“Maybe,” she thought. “It feels like forever since we left Azalea. Anything could have happened since then, but is this because of us? All of this suffering? We’re still supposed to find Lacia, right?”

She sighed. “You have a point,” she said in reply to the waitresses’ comments. “If you wouldn’t mind putting us up for a couple days, we’d still love to stay.” She turned around in her chair, legs brushing the linen tablecloth, to address Licht and Brendan. “How does a suite sound to you two? I think we could all use the room considering we’ve been stuck in that car for so long.”

“That sounds heavenly,” Brendan said, leaning back in his chair.

“Wurkfs fer mme,” Licht replied, stuffing his face once again.

Mana couldn’t help but giggle. “You heard the boys. One suite, two nights, please,” she said with a smile—the first one since Lacia’s abduction.

The waitress had recommended the master suite, even giving them their second night for half the rate of the first as an apology for her earlier comments and software glitch; she’d admitted it wasn’t her place to judge, but it had been a long day. She’d been harassed by some of the refugees on more than one occasion, fending off those who only wanted to make a scene.

“Girl… I’m sorry you had to put up with that,” Mana had said, sympathizing. “Next time, just smack them with a frying pan,” she winked, adding an extra 30% tip to the final dinner bill.

Walking into the room, the sweet scent of azaleas greeted her nostrils as she took a moment to enjoy the open space and quiet. While she didn’t doubt the waitresses’ opinions on the Master Suite, words simply didn’t do it justice: white walls and bright fluorescent lights gave the room an ethereal feel. Combined with the vaulted ceiling and walk-out back porch, the place felt more like a millionaire’s vacation home than a fancy suite at an inn in the middle of town.

Tired, she placed her bag and leftovers from dinner on the counter; the food was so good, she’d ordered another portion to-go. For a moment, she thought she was standing in the middle of a five-star kitchen: pots and pans hung from drying racks above the sink, the appliances were sparkly stainless steel, and the drawers and cabinets were a dark oaken color, juxtaposing the kitchen with the glass-like white-marble floors.

Eyeing a similarly colored leather couch, she finally realized how exhausted she was. She walked over and promptly buried her face in the throw pillows—makeup-be-damned. She’d worry about washing her face later.

An audible gasp escaped her lips, catching Licht and Brendan off-guard as they entered the room, carrying packed suitcases. She concluded that the couch was the most comfortable thing she’d ever laid on—period; she didn’t think her body would forgive her if she got up. Removing her face from the pillow, she turned her head, peering through a set of silken drapes—they cast an almost divine filter on the city.

“That’s eerily heavenly,” she thought to herself.

“Mana,” Brendan said, “Licht and I are gonna put the suitcases in the left bedroom. He says his feet are killing him, though, so if you want your stuff before he calls it a night, I can put it in your room, if that’s okay.”

“My… room?” She was confused. “There’s only two bedrooms and if Licht is taking the one on the left— Where will you sleep?” she asked, suddenly worried.

“Well, I’d say judging by your reaction to that couch when we walked in, that should suffice,” he laughed. “Mana— You’re footing the bill for us; the least I can do is let you have an actual bedroom.”

“And they say chivalry is dead,” she muttered under her breath. “Fine, but please let me know if you need an actual bed. I’m not opposed to… sharing…”

Brendan chuckled. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled.

“Uuunngh,” Licht grunted, fighting to remove his boots. “I think all of the walking we did in town today caused my feet to swell a bit,” he laughed. “Brendan, come give me a hand!”

Brendan sauntered over to help. “Thanks, again, for tonight. We’re getting closer to figuring out where Lacia is, so try to rest well tonight. We’ll find her, I promise,” he said, sticking his head through the doorway.

“Brendan!” Licht called.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming,” he said. Mana could hear him from the other room as she got up to inspect the other bedroom. “Put your back against the wall and I’ll pull,” he said. “It’s gotta come off eventually!”

“Guess I should’ve looked for a pair of shoes that fit instead of a new book on parallel dimensions, eh?" he said in reply.

Mana giggled. “It’s the hard times that bring out the best in people, unfortunately,” she said to herself.

Thirty minutes had passed, and Licht was still struggling to remove his boots. Brendan had tried wedging a butter knife between his ankle and the boot in hopes of loosening the seal between the two, resulting in a broken knife; he’d even tried warming it with a hair dryer to make the boot expand—no luck.

“Dude, just what shoe size are you, and how did you even get these on?”

“Eight and a half, and I put them on like I normally do.”

Brendan grunted, pulling at the boot with every ounce of muscle he could muster. “This… thing… won’t—”

The boot gave a massive sigh as the air pocket inside gave way. Somehow, Licht had managed to create an air-tight seal inside the boot, securely anchoring it to his foot. He wiggled his toes, relieved his foot was finally free.

“Ahh… Damn it feels good to take these things off. Now then… for the left,” he clamored joyously.

“Alright, on three,” Brendan said, one foot pressed against the wall, the other on the floor. “Let’s not make this another thirty-minute battle, so, on three, I’ll pull. That’s when you try to stay as anchored to the wall as possible,” he explained. “This won’t work if either of us loses our balance.”

“Aye, aye sir!” Licht said, laughing.

“Three… Two…” Brendan tightened his grip on the boot, “One!”

He pulled with so much force he stumbled back, surprised at how easy the second boot came off. Unable to regain his balance, he half-stumbled, half-moonwalked into Mana’s room, falling over the edge of the bed.

While she trusted Licht and Brendan to behave themselves, she never could have predicted what happened next. It had been an exhausting last few days, and a hot soak in the tub sounded like the perfect reprieve to her troubles. She’d purposefully left her room door open a crack, but not because she was looking to have someone accidentally tackle her and pin her to the bed—scantily dressed in only her underwear.

The silken sheets under her body were as cold as the chilled windows, but at least that chill was held back by the glass. The sheets were pleasurable, but not what she was in the mood for. What’s more, Brendan still hadn’t realized she was only half-dressed as he slowly lifted his face from the pillow he’d landed on, half-draped over her. She could just tell him to keep his head down until she put some clothes on, but why waste such an opportunity as this, she wondered, freeing herself.

“I’ll tell him how I feel,” she thought. “But I should also let him know that, even if it was an accident, you shouldn’t intrude on a woman when she’s changing.” She mulled her thoughts over in her head, but her mind resembled that of jello.

“Aghh! Come on Mana, get it together!”

It only took a few seconds for Brendan to remove his face from the pillow, but those few seconds felt more like a few centuries. How long had it actually been? Seconds? Minutes? She’d lost all track of time as her thoughts continued to congeal into a gelatinous mess.

“Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll tell him— No… Wait.” She pinched her cheek, resharpening her focus. “Am I just emotional because of everything we’ve been through lately? And Lacia’s disappearance… Are these feelings genuine or are they something artificial?” She shook her head.

“Hey, are you okay?” Brendan asked, pillow-free. “I didn’t mean to come barging in like… that…”

Brendan’s eyes grew to the size of golf balls. There, before him, Mana sat on her legs, hands at her sides still half-dressed as she stared into his eyes; he had no choice but to stare back—he refused to look anywhere else. Her emerald eyes bore holes into his own caramel irises. If there were an Olympic sport for staring contests, there would be no competition—neither Mana nor Brendan broke eye contact for a good minute.

“Mana… You realize…”

“Observant, are we?” Mana said blushing, gaze still fixed.

Seconds later, Brendan was at the foot of the bed, groveling in sincere apology. He wanted to compliment how great she looked—long before the accidental stumble into her room. Seeing her so brazenly bare all she had out in the open was one spectacle he wished he could compliment her on. Unfortunately, there was a time and place for everything, and her bedroom wasn’t it.

“If it’s any consolation, my face was in that pillow longer than I saw you, uhh… Look. I’ma be real with you right now, Mana. I have absolutely no idea what to say, and I’ve wanted to say some things to you, and—”

Mana turned around, perched at the foot of the bed as he continued groveling—definitely the last thing she’d expected him to do. It wasn’t that she doubted he had a good heart or wasn’t someone to lustfully leer at women—the problem was that she had no idea how to react. He hadn’t even complimented her. In fact, his apology sounded more like regret with a tinge of guilt than it did anything to do with her. If they hadn’t spent the last several weeks together, would his reaction have been different? He had said there were some things he’d wanted to say…

“Stop that,” she demanded. “You’re giving me S&M vibes and I don’t like it. Stop apologizing. You didn’t do anything.”

“Yes! Sorry! Oops… My bad,” he apologized, subconsciously.

“Stop! I literally hate the vibes that’s giving me right now,” she said, shaking her head. “Get back on the bed. I… want you to sit in front of me.” The gears in her mind smoked. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. I didn’t just say that, did I?”

Reluctantly, Brendan joined Mana on the bed again, now cross-legged. Meanwhile, Licht could be heard struggling with his other boot still. He couldn’t help but think about how strange the evening had become: the tug of Lacia’s mana, the incident at the restaurant, Licht’s boot, and now this. Truthfully, he just wanted to turn around and go to bed; that had been his plan from the start.

“Let me be abundantly clear: you are inviting me here, back onto this bed. This was not done with any other motives in mind,” he clarified, “but you do know you’re half, uh, naked… right?” If looks could kill, Mana would be accused of murder; her stare held so much ferocity he feared she might turn him to stone.

“This is the only time I’m going to say this, so listen carefully,” Mana said. Her cheeks had grown bright red.

“These feelings I have,” she placed a hand on her chest, “I don’t know if they’re genuine or not, but I wanted to tell you… Brendan, I think I—“

SWOOSH!! THUNK!

Licht’s other boot sailed between Mana and Brendan, leaving mere inches between them as it slipped by. The sole rammed the back of the headboard with a loud SMACK. Licht peeped his head out into the main room, noticing how quiet it had become.

“Bad time?” he asked, gritting his teeth.

“No… You know what? Never mind. Forget I asked,” she said softly, out of earshot. “I’m such a wreck right now—even boots are flying through the air!”

She pulled a robe over herself, draped across the back of the desk chair, and retreated into the bathroom. The door slammed shut with audible force. She slumped against the sleek oak door, defeated and tired. The boot was an unexpected out; she wanted to tell Brendan how she felt, but she couldn’t undermine herself; she had to ensure her feelings were genuine or suffer the pain of heartbreak later for leading herself on.

“Mana,” Brendan mumbled under his breath.

He knew what she was trying to convey, but he couldn’t understand what she was feeling—at least not entirely. Her sobs from behind the bathroom door had less to do with him and more to do with the fact that, over the last several weeks, she’d felt like she was increasingly powerless, unable to affect change. She watched as her world came crashing down at her feet like waves along the shoreline.

Losing Lacia meant losing the one person who kept her anchored when the going got rough. She could keep up appearances better than anyone, better than Lacia herself; whether she chose to willingly divulge what bothered her was strictly her business; she didn’t want to bother anyone else with her problems.

Before the school suspended classes, she was falling behind in multiple subjects—not because she was having trouble understanding the concepts, but because she was growing tired of isolation, always alone. Her parents had been gone for months, away on business. However, they’d gone radio silent several weeks prior to the day of the announcement in the school cafeteria. She called their work phones, but they would just ring and ring and ring—even the corporate line had been disconnected. To make matters worse, at the end of the first week, a large sum of money had appeared in her bank account; the last four digits she recognized as her parents’ joint savings account.

“Who would even want to listen to such a conspiracy-prone story, anyways? Losing you, Lacia, was like losing that second half of myself,” she pitied.

Brendan stared at the bathroom door, sighing. “We all have our demons. Her’s must be especially strong tonight.”

His own emotions began to well up inside of him, ready to spring. It hurt, seeing her suffer, feeling like she’d lost the only person she could confide in. A lump formed in his throat, but someone had to be her anchor. If he allowed his emotions to dictate his decisions, he was no better than a hollow puppet.

Shifting his attention from Mana for the moment, he realized how unkept her room was: a pair of leggings were draped over the headboard of the bed, a few pairs of shorts had been strewn across the floor, and a set of pajama bottoms lazily hanging from the curtains—how those got up there would forever be a mystery.

“What was she doing in here?” he thought aloud. “Maybe she was looking for something…”

As he picked up the room, a letter rustled to the floor—it must have been tucked away in a pocket somewhere. Several wrinkles had been creased into the envelope, reminding him of the scowl he used to receive from his teachers when they asked him where his homework was.

“Clearly not here,” he would retort, an attitude reminiscent of lazy, hazy school days.

He knelt down, un-wrinkling the envelope as best he could before replacing it inside her half-zipped suitcase. He returned his gaze to the door, frowning, wishing he had the answers to all of her problems; the sobbing had dulled to an occasional sniffle. A sudden bzzt refocused his attention once again; Mana’s phone had vibrated on the desk. To his surprise, it was unlocked.

“Perfect,” he thought.

There was no sense in trying to pry anything out of her right now—it wasn’t in anyone’s best interest. For tonight, it would be better if she was allowed to confront her inner self. Of course, he’d be sure to check up on her in the morning.

Picking up the phone, he navigated to the notes app and began typing. The battery had less than ten percent, though—he’d be quick. Hopefully, in time, the note would explain his own feelings a little better, but only when the time was right; then, and only then, would she truly have everything she needed.

“In due time…”

Dawn came early. Streaming through the curtains, sunlight bathed Mana’s bedroom in a pale light as she wrestled the bed sheets, trapped between her legs. She groaned, trying to block the morning sun from her eyes, but it was no use; she’d tossed and turned all night. The clock on her nightstand read a daunting 5:30am—not her preferred time to start the day. She did a double take:

“Five-thirty? Has it always been this bright so early in May?” she wondered. “Maybe I’ve just been so out of it lately that I haven’t paid as much attention to things as I normally do…”

Even so, she couldn’t believe April had already come and gone. Wasn’t she just walking Lacia home from school? And the croissant? The days had blurred together since her disappearance; today being the start of a new month didn’t exactly give her that “new” vibe; today was just another set of twenty-four hours in the quest to find Lacia. She felt no closer to finding her best friend than she did to winning the lottery, and she didn’t even have a ticket. Mana rubbed the sleep from her eyes, swinging her feet over the side of the bed.

“She’s been gone for almost a month now… Just how close are we actually getting to figuring this out?” she muttered. Her stomach seemed more interested in finding breakfast, however. “So hungry…”

She checked the Room Service menu on the kitchen counter, sneaking past Brendan, still asleep on the couch in the main room. Hotels always had early breakfast—surely this one was the same, right? Squinting, she turned the menu over:

“Breakfast starts at 7am,” it read.

“That is so cap. I’m hungry now, and there’s not a single scrap of food in this place besides last night’s leftovers…” She wanted breakfast—not a full-course dinner. “What the hell am I going to eat?” she mumbled, stomach rumbling. “Can we not right now, stomach? I know you’re hungry, but so am I. Please just, like—chill.”

Defeated, she stepped out onto the patio, inhaling the crisp, dewy morning air. Maybe if she took her mind off food, it would help settle her stomach. She eased into a patio chair nestled in the corner, warmed by the gentle rays of the morning sun, barely a half circle; another day of work had begun, arcing across the sky, warming the earth.

Shades of red and purple plastered the horizon, a display of magnificence fit only for those who dared brave the early hours of the approaching dawn—a display unlike anything she’d ever seen. The crimson reds reflected her fiery determination and passion, one that ignited a fire in her heart. She never backed down from a challenge, no matter how stacked against her the odds were. The hues of lavender symbolized her calming nature but reflected her heart’s burning desire for peace and stability.

“Sometimes, it takes a major ordeal before someone truly realizes just how fragile life is, but even more so for them to understand their own ideals and what constitutes their humanity,” she said, thinking back on the adventures she’d had with Lacia as a child. “Though I know we’re far apart, we’re not really that far, are we? I’ve learned a lot since we’ve been apart,” she laughed.

The gradual, warming light of the sun made her want to crawl back into bed, eyes heavy. She pulled her legs up to her chest, resting her head against her knees. Maybe getting up early wasn’t such a bad thing, after all. The sun represented life and renewal, and she understood why; it provided light—renewal—and warmth—life.

A sudden, light tingling sensation around her cheek disrupted her dreamy daze. Using the porch door, she examined her reflection in the glass; the mark under her eye had reignited as a fresh breeze stripped the sun’s warmth from her skin.

Without warning, her vision pulsed. She felt like someone was adjusting a zoom lens—in and out, in and out. A debilitating migraine radiated across her entire forehead, around the eyes, and down her neck. She began to sway, gripping the chair, struggling to steady herself. Her vision pulsed again as a streak of light cut across the sky like lightning, but there was no thunder; it danced across the horizon, erratic and unpredictable. The same moment it appeared, it vanished, leaving her with a worsening migraine.

Cracks formed in the sky, crawling across the pale, sunlit canvas like spidery cracks; they traversed the color-filled horizon in unrecognizable patterns: horizontally, vertically—even sharp, diagonal cuts that reminded her of a computer screensaver. Was she hallucinating? Was the migraine a harbinger of some sort? She pressed a hand to her head, embroiled by the searing pain.

An abrupt, but soft, voice called out to her: “Do not fret, my child. You’ve done well to come this far, but this is where your path lessens in ease.” The voice felt empty, void of emotion or substance, rippling through her mind. “You are not equipped to handle the burdens that will befall you on this path you have chosen. You are dearly missing someone—your heart aches—but it is not yet time for you to reunite.”

“Okay. It’s a bad migraine when there are voices in my head,” she groaned.

Still, she had questions, and if the last several weeks had taught her anything, asking questions seemed to be the only way information got around, yet she couldn’t help but wonder if, perhaps, there was something greater at work, something omniscient and loving—something grand.

“Alright, why not play along?” she pondered. “For the sake of having a control, let’s say I’m not losing my mind, and this is happening. Just who are you? Why come to me of all people, and for what?” She paused for a moment. “Who or what are you?”

Mana planted herself where she stood, still uneasy. The concrete patio retained the previous night’s chill, though it seemed to have no reservations about sharing. She exchanged her body heat for the shocking cold of the patio floor; the morning sun was too young to provide any warmth. Perhaps even more shocking, however, was the response she received to her question.

Silence reigned supreme. “I have been called an angel, an apparition—even a figment of imagination… Perhaps the term 'God' is something you are more familiar with?”

“…God?”

“If that is what you wish to call me, though I am not omnipotent,” the voice replied. “More to the point, time is not something I have, child. The person your heart seeks is safe, but she longs for your rescue.”

Mana’s eyes widened. Aside from Brendan managing to trace her mana, this was the first good news she’d received regarding Lacia. A question began to form on her lips, but she faltered. Lacia aside, what did the voice mean by “short on time”? Did Gods even have a sense of time?

“Or whatever you are,” she mumbled.

The voice continued. “It is not time for your reunion yet, but you must not forget what it is that has brought you this far,” it warned. “However, I shall bestow upon you something that will help in your journey.”

A distant whistling crept into Mana’s ears, shrill like a winter’s wind. Before she knew it, a surge of rich, magical energy funneled around her as a whirlwind nipped at her bare skin. The wind grew stronger, squeezing its way between the soles of her feet and the concrete. She felt her feet leave the patio floor, in awe at the mid-air suspension—she didn’t care how such a feat was even possible.

Elation poured into every fiber of her being; the warm influx of mana was sublime. Her muscles eased; the stress melted away—she could even feel her blood pressure lower. Wisps of color danced before her, twirling round and round in a ritualistic ceremony. Were they putting on a show for her or was there more to it? An orange wisp wandered up to her; it seemed almost… curious. It danced across her shoulders and bounced off her chest before it dissipated in the swirling column of air. Following suit, wisps of all colors joined their comrade, dissipating into multicolored puffs of air. The colors mixed together, transforming the vortex into a whirl of ethereal white.

Her body warmed, filled with the playful energy of the wisps and rejuvenated by the surge of mana that coursed through her veins, purging her body of senescent cells. She felt amazing, like she’d consumed a smoothie packed with every superfood known to man, buttressed by a confidence boost.

“So, this is what magic feels like,” she said softly, enveloped by the magically-charged vortex. “I’ve never felt anything like this. It’s so… warm and comforting.”

Moments later, her feet were returned to the ground as she made a gradual descent. What had taken less than five minutes felt like eternity; she didn’t want to lose the rich, magical feeling she’d been gifted—it was pure ecstasy. She licked her lips to wet her mouth and was greeted by a pleasant, sugary taste.

“Remember this feeling as it will be one you recall when the time is right,” the voice riddled again. “For now, relish what you have been given.”

A small inkling of satisfaction escaped her lips, one of pleasure. “Mmm… You can’t tease a girl like that…”