Kersay stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection searching for any single imperfection she could find on her face. After what seemed to be forever of searching, she was happy with the fact that she had none. Well none that she could fix with make-up. Like the scar she always kept hidden with an insane amount of make-up.
But it was like that so that she didn't cause people to worry about where she got it. It also saved her from having to dance around explaining what she was.
And of the student body, the only one who knew who she was. Was Loki. The man with enough skill to already be considered a huntsman.
Then there was Lilac, who several times came close to seeing what Kersay really was so many times, it was kind of concerning. It was like that girl had a sixth sense for trouble, or at least some form of it.
Maybe it was what her semblance was? No that couldn't be the case, since she had to have seen her teammates semblance in some of the class exercises they had to do.
Shaking those thoughts out of her head, Kersay then slapped her face a few times to focus herself as she continued to observer her body. Staring at the scars that littered her thighs, just above where any clothing would reveal. They had started to fade some over the course of the last year, yet they were still noticeable. Continuing down her leg to her ankles were another set of scars that she always kept hidden with her socks.
The more she looked, the more those painful memories started resurfacing, seeping through the cracks to the point she flinched at the mere mental image that flashed in her mind.
Gripping the tile counter top, Kersay took several deep breaths in an attempt to calm her mind as her panic slowly started rising within her chest. All just from a memory. She hated that.
As she looked up from the tile, and the floor. She found herself staring into the mirror where she found that she wasn't alone.
Rather. She had a visitor, one that was supposed to be long dead.
"No way..." Kersay muttered in horror of what she was seeing. A man with a lean muscled build with platinum blonde hair. Wearing dark blue clothing that was much closer to black than it was blue. "...you're supposed to be dead..."
"Says who?" The man spoke his hungry eyes running over her body, and before he could advance. Kersay blinked, and before she knew it. She was a kid again. With rope tied tight around her her ankles. "I don't remember the gods dictating what my state of being is supposed to be my dear daughter. Rivali would be disappointed with how you turned out."
"B-brother would be disappointed..." She'd mutter in a low tone, shrinking back farther and farther into what she used to be. A slave to the cult of blood.
It was almost like her past had came back to haunt her. Every single cruel part of it.
"Now come on little daughter. We have a ceremony to attend." Her father would say cruelly as he gripped her hair in his hand. Pulling sending pain shooting through her entire body as he dragged her from the bathroom, and into the middle of the dorm room she was so familiar with.
The major differences being, that it looked like it had been ransacked by a battle. The furniture was all battle worn, and the walls were all coated in a thick layer of blood and ash.
Kersay didn't know what to do, what to feel. Making the mistake to look out of the window, where she saw a destroyed Vale, a destroyed beacon academy. With a dragon flying in the distance. A dragon that was flying towards her.
[In Carters World]
Carter took several deep breathes before lunging out his hand sending a card flying before activating his semblance. Which sent him launching deeper into the forest away from the cabin. As he appeared at the point where his card was. He was somewhere completely different.
He was in the middle of a sandy desert, far from the forest he found himself in, and definitely without the cover he could've taken advantage of. Looking behind he expected to see the white creature. Instead he was treated to something far worse than he had ever witnessed.
"No way. It can't be. You should be in a jail cell you racist bastard!" Carter roared gripping his fists so tight in anger he could've sworn he felt blood beginning to streak from the nail marks.
"No one keeps a member of thorns locked up. Especially not one as powerful as I am." The masked man spoke holding out his arms. "Now Carter, how about we get this show on the road. Yes?"
[In Lilac's world]
Lilac stared in horror at the thing that held her in its arms. She couldn't tell whether she was a result of her trip, or literally the embodiment of death. All black from head to toe, with no defining features to speak of. It was almost like it was a shell of what it used to be, or was supposed to be. In it's right hand was a small dagger with a twisted blade that should've been impossible to achieve with conventional standards.
She needed to move, had to move. Yet the more she moved, the more she found herself stuck where she was held. Watching as the figure slowly moved the dagger closer and closer towards her heart. Aiming to plunge it deep into her heart.
The closer the knife got. The more the figures form seemed to change. To change from the faceless form of death. To a face she hadn't seen in so long. The face she missed dearly with every passing moment.
The face of her father.